Miyama – Kyoto Prefecture

A film by Rainer Komers. In German and Japanese with German subtitles.

[Credits] [Tickets & Termine] [Trailer]

There’s pro­ba­b­ly no other citi­zen of Gelsenkirchen who has ever mas­te­red Nō sin­ging and play­ing the Shakuhachi flu­te as authen­ti­cal­ly as Uwe Walter. He has lived in the moun­tain vil­la­ge of Miyama north of Kyoto for three deca­des and emu­la­tes the local resi­dents, whe­ther they earn their living on the fields, bree­ding catt­le or hun­ting. People tend their gar­dens, repair fen­ces to keep away the maca­ques and grow their own rice. Uwe has beco­me per­fect­ly Japanese, at one with his environment.

However well-sui­ted his Ruhr area wit makes him as a figu­re of iden­ti­fi­ca­ti­on, the came­ra keeps a respectful distance, more reser­ved than Uwe hims­elf. Only at one point does it come tou­ch­in­gly clo­se: When he is forced to say good­bye to an essen­ti­al part of his past in the inte­rest of the vil­la­ge com­mu­ni­ty. But the real sub­ject of this film is not the German with his grey­ish blon­de curls but rather that very com­mu­ni­ty, por­tray­ed by Rainer Komers in bit­ters­weet poly­pho­ny. It emer­ges in the children’s games, the adults’ pur­suits and the old people’s tales, in the sum­mer down­pours of the rai­ny sea­son, the white moon over the noc­turnal vil­la­ge and the blood-red lea­ves of autumn.

Christoph Terhechte


DE 2022, 97 min, Deutsch, Japanisch OmU
Regie & Kamera: Rainer Komers
Schnitt: Gregor Bartsch


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