Keiko Utagawa

Song for Flower is a self-documentary in which she explores her own existence by pointing her camera at her family and friends. It is a film that will change the landscape of the venue after you leave the screening.

In A Hundred Sweethearts, these worries spread to include the people and things around the filmmaker, as she presents herself as a slightly spoiled but unconceited youth who is used to having others care for her. It is both the comfort of this emotional security and the realization, as she becomes an adult, that it will not last that prompt Utagawa to record these events, seek out past ones in old home movies, and even re-enact them in the present. More than an affirmation of identity, film becomes for her a celluloid blanket, a warm set of images to which she must sweetly but sadly say goodbye as time marches inevitably on. - Aaron Gerow

Have you ever felt like punching a person on a train? Sunao is a boy who understands that there is no right thing or right person in the world, but he is obsessed with the fact that there are too many wrong things and wrong people in the world. In the closed room of the train, a microcosm of the world, are the scenes Sunao encounters a mirage or reality? Is the other boy who follows him an illusion created by Sunao, or is he an alter ego of the world? This is an instantaneous spatial film that expresses through a boy with an inner weakness the fantasy that everyone has of being able to hit a noisy woman or a pompous man who happens to be in the same carriage as him. The filming on the train, which must have been done guerrilla style, makes us feel the speed at which the train runs.

A girl who believes her lover is swimming in the water in her ears decides to take action one day. She visits her health teacher at the high school she graduated from to complain about her physical problems, and also goes to an ear, nose and throat specialist to consult about her ears, which are prone to water ingress. This is a semi-documentary in which the filmmaker herself plays the role of the girl and goes out with the tool of a film camera to reveal the internal chaos. (IFF, 1994).

A woman gazes at the television while she irons as she falls in love with a murderer in the news. A young woman living in a dilapidated flat falls in love with a man who is wanted for the murder of a college girl and is reported on the news every day. She scraps his press photos and talks to his wanted posters on the street. But her secret happiness is short-lived, and the day comes when the man is arrested, despite her pleas for him to run away. She cries as she listens to the news, and when the wind blows in her room, all that is left is... A sad and fantastic love story, with a surprising twist at the end. The iron that the woman keeps in her room, the laundry, is a symbol of her feelings for the man, but because it is white in colour, the more it increases, the purer the effect of her feelings becomes.

Smile apologetically next to a beautiful woman. Kyoko Yamada is an ugly woman. She has a man in her life, Momotani, whom she has feelings for. He says to her, "Bring your friends and come visit me. Yamada, who is ugly and has no friends, goes out on the street and talks to girls. There is only one criterion. The only criteria is that the girl has to look good enough to complement him. Finally, Yamada finds a fat girl and takes her to Momotani's flat. But Momotani is a fat lover. The protagonist, who relies on fortune-telling in order to become beautiful and is bossy with the same sex whom she identifies as less than her, confronts the audience with "the ugly part of you", in the form of a laugh, saying "ugly people are such creatures". The film is a radical stomping ground of the looks complex.