Cutie and the Boxer

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Day 275 of 365 of my year long challenge

Week 40: The Artist's Brush
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I think I expected more art. At the very least, I expected to get more of an insight into the process of Ushio Shinohara's art. Instead, we get an insight into the life and process of his wife Noriko. Cutie and the Boxer is not a documentary about art or even an artist but rather, it is a documentary of the artist's life.

I can't say I came away from this feeling enlightened, entertained or really anything. Cutie and the Boxer has always been a film that has caught my eye so it's about time I got around to watching it. What I eventually found though was something so very bittersweet that I'm not sure whether to like this or not. Cutie and the Boxer is certainly not a film one would turn around and say they love. Really, though, I'm not sure that is entirely unexpected.

In capturing the lives of Ushio and Noriko, Cutie and the Boxer presents us with a strained, passionate, bittersweet relationship. The pair is worlds apart yet come together in a love of art and a passion for each other that frankly defies rhyme or reason. For the majority of the film, you'd be forgiven for thinking they hate each other based on how many sly, passive-aggressive and open barbs they throw at each other. And yet, small, almost innocuous moments seem to capture something that runs deep and can never be explained.

In indulging their creative passions, both genius and assistant (yes, that is exactly how Ushio sees it) find themselves hurtling down a path that is not only self-destructive but also hugely destructive to those around them. There may be scant hints at this but glimpses of home-video footage show hints of a volatility that lives within them. So too does it live in their son. The greatest victim of it all, Alex has become a borderline alcoholic like his father and seems set to follow a similar trajectory unless his mother sets him straight early.

That's very much a big part of Cutie and the Boxer. Ushio is a force of nature whose art is visceral, passionate and arguably unskilled. I can't say it's my style at least. Noriko, on the other hand, is reserved, contemplative and somewhat skilled. His art is reflective of a kinetic chaos that reigns free within him, Hers is art that reflects a life once lived and a life yet to be lived. They are largely opposites and yet they find a way.

We watch Ushio's 80th birthday, multiple gallery showings, an attempted sale and the creations of his work. Though he dabbles with reality, he never quite seems to believe in it. That is left for Noriko as she tries desperately to find money, find recognition and hold together a house, family and way of life that was barely viable 40 hears ago and even less so now.

Her empowerment is his "awakening" to a changed world and while one should feel triumphant for her, there's still an anchor holding her back that may never be resolved. They are, by film's end, as close to equals as they'll ever likely get and like most things in Cutie and the Boxer, it's a bittersweet thing.

This slice of life is at times moving, at times uncomfortable and at times maddening but through it all, there really is this bittersweet tone that is clung to like a life raft. Love is not easy. Certainly not with volatile passion like theirs, yet, Cutie and the Boxer give hope to all those who think they can't weather the lightest of storms.

I know I said this was a documentary that captured a slice of the artist's life but really, Cutie and the Boxer captures a slice of everyone's life. Not everyone may live so vividly and erratically as Ushio and Noriko Shinohara but we all live a life of passion, reflection, ambition and bittersweet love.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Day 275 of 365 of my year long challenge

Week 40: The Artist's Brush
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I think I expected more art. At the very least, I expected to get more of an insight into the process of Ushio Shinohara's art. Instead, we get an insight into the life and process of his wife Noriko. Cutie and the Boxer is not a documentary about art or even an artist but rather, it is a documentary of the artist's life.

I can't say I came away from this feeling enlightened, entertained or really anything. Cutie and the Boxer has always been a film that has caught my eye so it's about time I got around to watching it. What I eventually found though was something so very bittersweet that I'm not sure whether to like this or not. Cutie and the Boxer is certainly not a film one would turn around and say they love. Really, though, I'm not sure that is entirely unexpected.

In capturing the lives of Ushio and Noriko, Cutie and the Boxer presents us with a strained, passionate, bittersweet relationship. The pair is worlds apart yet come together in a love of art and a passion for each other that frankly defies rhyme or reason. For the majority of the film, you'd be forgiven for thinking they hate each other based on how many sly, passive-aggressive and open barbs they throw at each other. And yet, small, almost innocuous moments seem to capture something that runs deep and can never be explained.

In indulging their creative passions, both genius and assistant (yes, that is exactly how Ushio sees it) find themselves hurtling down a path that is not only self-destructive but also hugely destructive to those around them. There may be scant hints at this but glimpses of home-video footage show hints of a volatility that lives within them. So too does it live in their son. The greatest victim of it all, Alex has become a borderline alcoholic like his father and seems set to follow a similar trajectory unless his mother sets him straight early.

That's very much a big part of Cutie and the Boxer. Ushio is a force of nature whose art is visceral, passionate and arguably unskilled. I can't say it's my style at least. Noriko, on the other hand, is reserved, contemplative and somewhat skilled. His art is reflective of a kinetic chaos that reigns free within him, Hers is art that reflects a life once lived and a life yet to be lived. They are largely opposites and yet they find a way.

We watch Ushio's 80th birthday, multiple gallery showings, an attempted sale and the creations of his work. Though he dabbles with reality, he never quite seems to believe in it. That is left for Noriko as she tries desperately to find money, find recognition and hold together a house, family and way of life that was barely viable 40 hears ago and even less so now.

Her empowerment is his "awakening" to a changed world and while one should feel triumphant for her, there's still an anchor holding her back that may never be resolved. They are, by film's end, as close to equals as they'll ever likely get and like most things in Cutie and the Boxer, it's a bittersweet thing.

This slice of life is at times moving, at times uncomfortable and at times maddening but through it all, there really is this bittersweet tone that is clung to like a life raft. Love is not easy. Certainly not with volatile passion like theirs, yet, Cutie and the Boxer give hope to all those who think they can't weather the lightest of storms.

I know I said this was a documentary that captured a slice of the artist's life but really, Cutie and the Boxer captures a slice of everyone's life. Not everyone may live so vividly and erratically as Ushio and Noriko Shinohara but we all live a life of passion, reflection, ambition and bittersweet love.