青い春 English Title: Blue Spring

Released:  2002
Directed By:  Toyoda Toshiaki
Based on the Story By:  Matsumoto Taiyo
Staring:  Matsuda Ryuhei
               Arai Hirofumi

If ever a movie were to make one want to both ditch class and hit the books at the same time, Blue Spring would be it.  From the first scenes – a slow motion introduction reminiscent of the beginning scenes of Reservoir Dogs – we are confronted with the visual appeal of the dangerous, the lawlessness, and the free.  For those of us who can’t confess to having been there, we can all come close to the feeling of wanting to have been.  And as we meet our “ruffian” heroes, we are both terrified by their rebelliousness, yet attracted by our very disavowal of their actions.  At the same time, we find ourselves routing for our unlikely, rather hopeless heroes, to turn things around, to study and graduate, even until the very last minute.

 Perhaps it is the pivotal point that the characters – a group of high school boys – find themselves at, or maybe even more so, the ways in which they go about confronting the choices before them, that further strikes a chord with the viewer.  For all their recklessness and abandonment, these characters love being at high school.  Here their rule of the school and the world that they have created is evident from the spray paint that they leave – “turf” in Japanese literally means “island.”  And, as the only world they know, it truly is an island – one surrounded by the vast ocean that the characters know they must inevitably one day face. 

 Each character, however, handles this transition differently and, due to the nature of their lifestyle to this point, some tragically.  It is the understanding of the character’s own fear and uncertainty over the future however, that grants the audience the further ability to sympathize with them, despite their often violent and outrageous behavior.  Although close, theirs is not yet the behavior of adults but is closer to mimicking.  What is striking about this is that, as adult viewers, we see reflected in the characters both a shared ideal of the purity of youth, and the destructive elements that often characterize the adult world.

 The metaphor of students or youth “flowering” into adults is surely one that we have all heard enough to make us roll our eyes.  Blue Spring, however, manages to give this a fresh poignancy by highlighting that not all bloom in the same way, and pointing out the sad reality that, when left untended, may not flower at all.  In just one of the scenes revealing their compassionate, hopeful sides, the main characters take a minute from their fighting and let their appearance of apathy drop as they help the school gardener to plant flowers.  Prodding them to help, the gardener wisely challenges them to take up the difficulty of tending plants.  “Ah, but I wonder if they will flower,” he says, secretly urging them to provide the necessary water and care that they need.  “Maybe they will flower black,” main character Kujo replies jokingly.

 But, as graduation approaches, the fragility of the boys is exposed, even if some refuse to accept it, and the gardener’s words become painfully significant.  “Aren’t their some flowers that don’t bloom,” Kujo asks, to which the gardener reveals his hope for the boys, despite their difficult circumstances; “flowers are born to bloom not to wilt,” he says, “that’s something that I’ve decided to believe.”

Blue Spring masterfully breaks down the defensive walls and appearances that we all too often hide behind and exposes us for the weak, dependent creatures that we really are.  For those expecting a positive outcome as a result of excessive action and violence, this might be a disappointment.  For those who are ready to appreciate weakness and dependency not as a deficit but as a strength on the other hand, the film is a welcome reaffirmation.  Certainly this realization is Blue Spring’s greatest strength, and one which helps it to transcend its likeness to similar high school dramas, and into a class of its own - a fantastic, unforgettable piece of cinema.