Japan Goes Down

I honestly can’t remember the last time I went to a cinema alone. But with a name dripping in B-Grade chic, you can be sure I’d go out of my way to watch The Sinking of Japan, it even if it means travelling an hour to Yishun 10 after work to catch its very last screening in Singapore.

Far from being home-release bargain bin fodder, Sinking is a surprisingly well-paced, well-thought out movie--one almost imagines that the producers went through a table-top crisis simulation exercise to envision the entire catastrophe developing from rumour to mass hysteria; and its political consequences locally and abroad. Its special effects, coming from the makers of the Godzilla franchise, were nothing short of spectacular. But more than the effects and suspense, what struck me most about the movie was the screenwriters’ willingness to allow Japan to be almost completely destroyed before being saved from submergence at the movie’s end. Is the paranoia of annihilation still in the Japanese psyche after 60 years? Interestingly enough, in a move too loaded with symbolism to be mere coincidence, the country’s final salvation is effected through a nuclear device.

Of course, there’s an added kick for me in watching Sinking since I’m currently learning the language and can now pick out expressions like sumimasen (“excuse me / sorry”), wakarimasu (“understand”), and nan de kore (“WTF!?”), not to mention all the -eru, -imasu and -shita verb endings (even if I don’t know the verbs themselves).

What I can’t understand, though, is a scene where the protagonist’s love interest says “make love to me now”, causing him to break into heavy sobs. He tearfully replies that he can’t “at the moment”, because only saving her family would make him truly happy. This has to be the first time in recent cinematic history that a male protagonist turns down an opportunity for casual sex with his love interest. What the f***, indeed! Maybe I do have a lot to learn about the Japanese psyche...