Tokyo Waka

Tokyo Waka is a cinematic portrait of Tokyo and its seemingly eccentric citizens, captured by filmmakers John Haptas and Kristine Samuelson. This exquisitely poetic, 2012 documentary paints an often-missed perspective of the city, with the narrative woven around the ubiquitous crow population.

Tokyo, the world's largest metropolitan area, is a city filled with towering skyscrapers, vibrant streets, and a rich tapestry of life. Yet, amidst this symphony of bustling city life, there thrive the crows - creatures often associated with darkness and foreboding. The filmmakers creatively use these enigmatic birds as a metaphor, a prism to refract the multifaceted essence of Tokyo.

As the movie unfolds, it explores the complex relationship between the city's human inhabitants and crows, which are seen as both an integral part of urban ecosystem and a nuisance. Tokyo's crow population, estimated to be around twenty-five thousand, despite being discouraged through various means employed by the city officials, has proven to be resilient. This imbues the film with a sense of serendipitous drama, underpinning the overarching theme of coexistence.

Through a combination of interviews, observational footage, and beautifully contemplative visuals, Tokyo Waka delves into Tokyo's cultural ethos, exploring themes from urban planning and waste management to Zen philosophy and nature’s resilience against remarkable odds. We are introduced to a diverse group of Tokyo residents; a homeless woman who finds solace in feeding crows, a poet finding inspiration in their caustic cries, a tofu vendor finding amusement in their antics, and a zookeeper reflecting on the animalistic nature that lurks in each of us.

One of the film's key contributions is its ability to reveal the crows as something apart from just destructive pests – as intelligent, adaptable creatures that, in their own way, provide a mirror to the city’s survivalist spirit against the relentless march of modernity. One of the scenes captures crows using traffic as nutcrackers – a display of their adaptation to the urban environment. In these nuances lie the insightful commentary of the film about the resilience nature exhibits against the face of man-made obstructions.

As much as Tokyo Waka is a commentary on urban life, it equally explores human perceptions and our parochial attitudes towards life around us. It cleverly juxtaposes the daily scenes of crowded subway stations, hustle and bustle of the city with the tranquil beauty of New Year’s Day at the Meiji shrine, and the ephemeral spectacle of blossoming cherry trees. This dichotomy between the collective memory and collective amnesia, between progress and forgetting, imparts the film with a philosophical depth.

Further, Tokyo Waka sheds light on the city’s post-war reconstruction and the pristinely choreographed social conventions of its people. The film subtly hints at Tokyo’s future challenges such as increasing population, shrinking living spaces, and insurmountable garbage piles. The crows, in their determination to cohabit with humans, serve as a poignant reminder of how city dwellers must learn to be flexible and adaptable in the face of adversity.

The narrative of Tokyo Waka oscillates between a vast sociological canvas and intimate personal tales, captured with deft mastery. Every individual featured in the film is treated with profundity, as though each carries a slice of Tokyo within them. The cinematography enhances the narrative with its thoughtful framing and captivating imagery, invoking an immersive experience.

In the end, viewers are left with an intriguingly complex portrait of Tokyo – not just a city of high-speed bullet trains, neon lights, and technological marvels, but also a city of struggling homelessness, aching solitude, and resilient crows. Tokyo Waka is a visual paean to the city and an appealing artwork that encourages introspection concerning our relationship with the natural world amidst the rapid advent of urbanization.

Haptas and Samuelson’s direction is commendably delicate, the landscape of Tokyo is as much a character as any of the humans or birds. The camera captures the nuances of real-life interactions while maintaining an objective distance. The effect is not voyeuristic, but rather a tribute to the city’s life-cycle and its inhabitants, as well as an introspective meditation on the collective lifespan of an urban world.

In its 63-minute runtime, Tokyo Waka manages to encapsulate the pulse of a city struggling to harmonize the clash between its past and present, nature and nurture – all seen through the enigmatic lens of it's enduring, winged residents.