The World of Movies: Ainu Mosir
Written by Rachael Crawley
The World of Movies is a series that explores global cinema, drawing on films from many countries, industries and eras. This week’s movie takes place in northern Japan.
May contain spoilers.
“I identify as Ainu, but I can’t seem to grasp what that means,” one person says early in the movie. This question is central to Ainu Mosir (Takeshi Fukunaga, 2020), as different characters consider their indigenous Ainu heritage in present-day Japan.
From the beginning, the movie’s characters are thinking of identity. A group of men debate the Iomante, the traditional sacrifice of a bear, which could be seen as controversial to outsiders – a real concern in a town now dependent on tourism. Meanwhile, a teenaged boy insists that he will go to school anywhere but locally – he is tired of participating in Ainu ceremonies, and wants to be “normal”, to his mother’s dismay. She, in turn, is studying to learn Ainu (a language that has struggled to be revitalized in recent years), while dealing with the complicated presence of tourists in her souvenir shop.
The teenager, Kanto, is a family friend of Debo, who is raising the future Iomante bear. The two of them trek into the woods, where Debo shows him traditional places and concepts, and tells stories of Kanto’s recently deceased father. He suggests that Kanto help raise the bear cub. Their friendship is very gentle, and it is clear they are close. Debo is respectful of Kanto’s grief, and is attempting, in his own way, to make it a little easier. It seems to work. When Kanto cares for the bear, Chibi, his face seems to light up. Kanto Shimokura, as the lead, effortlessly crosses through a wide range of emotions, while Debo Akibe’s steadier character provides a grounding contrast.
Neither Kanto nor the town at large know of the planned Iomante. Any discussion occurs behind closed doors. When Kanto discovers the plan, he confronts Debo, who tries to explain its significance. From this point, Kanto continues to struggle with the ritual – though his connection to it (and to the community in general) becomes more nuanced, it will always be complicated. He is not alone. Several characters, at different points in the movie, express a conflicted view of Iomante. While always considered to be important, it is not portrayed as a simple act. In the end, Kanto appears to be much more at peace – but the views of the adults suggest that this will be a lifelong journey.
Ainu Mosir.
One strength of the film is its beauty; set around the mountains and lakes of Hokkaido (suggested to be the Lake Akan area), it is lovely to watch. The movie’s relaxed pace fits this imagery well – the viewer has time to really appreciate the characters’ surroundings. Music is also important to the film, from traditional instruments to karaoke nights to Kanto’s newly formed band. Several different characters are given time to be established, even if they are only on camera for short moments. These elements give the impression of a close-knit place, one where a teenaged boy could feel both supported and constrained. Anyone who has spent time in a small town will recognize this setting.
The village’s relationship with tourists is also explored. While they are an economic necessity, they are shown as engaging on a surface level and remaining fundamentally ignorant of the town’s workings. The movie often juxtaposes public events with more private dynamics – the tourists are always there, but the real story occurs beyond their reach. On the day of the Iomante, the village is closed entirely, keeping this crucial moment within the community.
This is a multilayered story that tends not to settle on distinct answers, which gives the characters room to develop. It shows the strengths and challenges of the village, examining its changes while demonstrating its continuity. Ainu Mosir takes its title from the Ainu name for the region. In translation, it means “The Land Where People Live”.
Rachael Crawley holds a Master's Degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, and has worked with film in Canada and in Europe. She adores language and cinema, and how these subjects interact with each other.