Butler's Cinema Scene

The “family” at the center of “Shoplifters”

“SHOPLIFTERS” My rating: B+

121 minutes | MPAA rating: R

A study of an unconventional family and a stinging indictment of the modern Japanese economy, “Shoplifters” sneaks up quietly and leaves you heartbroken.

In the very first scene writer/director Hirokazu Koreeda (“After the Storm,” “Our Little Sister”) displays the film’s title in action. A father and son duo — Osamu (Lily Franky) and Shota (Jyo Kairi) — are cruising a grocery store. They appear absolutely unremarkable…Dad picks up various items, reads the labels; the curious  kid explores the place.

Thing is, little Shota is stuffing his clothing with that evening’s meal.  The pair return to their home — a rundown house overflowing with all manner of junk — and we meet the rest of the family:  Mom Nobuyo (Ando Sakura), big sister Aki (Matsuoka Mayu) and Grandma (Kiki Kirin).

Given the sticky-fingered antics of the opening scene, one might assume that this is nothing more than a family of crooks. But both Hirokazu and Nobuyo have backbreaking jobs that never pay enough to make ends meet.  The teenage Aki is a sex worker employed by a peep show.  Grandma contributes her monthly pension check.

The Japanese labor scene, evidently, pretty much guarantees that each day a working stiff is a bit poorer than the day before. Thus the petty crime.

Lily Franky, Jyo Kairi

The main plot element of “Shoplifters” centers on  Yuri (Sasaki Miyu), a five-year-old girl whom Hirokazu spots sitting alone in what appears to be an abandoned house.  Concerned for the child’s welfare, he brings her back to Nobuyo, who initially bitches about having another mouth to feed but slowly warms to the little charmer.

Indeed, the family dotes on Yuri, lavishing on her attention and a new swimming suit which she so loves that she wears it in the bathtub.

Up to a point “Shoplifters” is like a fairy tale about an odd family living on the fringes of everyday society. Through the innocent eyes of Yuri it’s all rather magical.

But rude reality intrudes.  When Grandma dies the family buries her beneath the floorboards and continues to cash those pension checks.

And when the cops show up to “rescue” Yuri and return her to her utterly indifferent birth parents, the barely glued-together illusion perpetrated by Osamo and Nobuyo comes crashing down. We’re suddenly faced with re-evaluating just who these people are.

For example, was Grandma actually a relation or just an old lady they absorbed into the group?

A family, Koreeda argues, is less about blood than commitment and caring. Not that the authorities care for such esoteric issues.

| Robert W. Butler