CAPSULE: An (2015, Dir. Naomi Kawase)

An, that sweet bean paste that goes inside those cute little Japanese pancake sandwiches, dorayaki, is hard to make apparently. So says Sentarō (Masatoshi Nagase) from his dorayaki stall in Nagoya. He says it to Tokue (Kirin Kiki), an elderly woman with rickety hands who's be pestering him for a job. He uses canned an. She makes a kick-arse an. He relents and a friendship develops - one of those "you've changed my life forever and now I can start getting over my shit" friendships that make for super sweet films.

Super sweet films, the type that trade almost entirely on goodwill and self-renewal, are also difficult to make. Director Naomi Kawase has pulled it off though and with very little of the canned sentiment that usually drags these films down. Or at least that sentiment is delivered so well (by Kawase, Kiki and Nagase) that it is easily swallowed, even affecting.

The lightness of An and Kawase's ability to float atop the genre's clichés is entirely commendable. There is rarely a moment in which it is not entirely predictable where she is taking us and yet she finds a way to stir the emotions anyhow. Her finesse in this regard is constantly tested, and it is certainly strained to its limits when the socially conscious side of the film kicks in via an OTT reaction to Tokue's leprosy by the dorayaki stall's owner. It is a scene that provides an uncomfortable transition to the film's later dramas (the life-redefining ones) but once the service is carried out the film gets on with its more nuanced scenes quite effortlessly. And it milks the clarified situation for all its worth.

So, if believable and affecting sentimentality is your thing (and I've clearly got a sweet spot for it), An and its reveries on freedom, food and nature will do you a world of good. If not, you're well advised to give this one a wide berth.

★★★☆

Trailer: