Myself Lost, and Dolls Misunderstood
Dolls is an unusual position in Takeshi Kitano's filmography — mainly because it is a purely artistic film with three storylines packed into the frames and symbolism of traditional Japanese puppet theatre, Bunraku. It is not a film that meets you halfway. Whether that is a flaw or the point is a question I am still not sure how to answer.
In Dolls you will find what is typical for Kitano — long shots, considered perspectives, a play of colours, and stunning landscapes. What you won't find is any easy way to grasp what the film is actually about. True love ruined by wrong decisions? Soulmates, or some mystical connection between people? Sacrifice? Karma? Escaping from fears, from life, from responsibility? I genuinely have no idea. It might be about all of those things, or none of them. Without knowledge of Bunraku, we may simply be doomed to be left in the dark.
I am not a fan of having everything handed on a silver platter — I like being challenged, I like subtle hints that make the picture less than obvious. These are signs of great filmmaking. But in Dolls, the breadcrumbs left for interpretation were simply too small for me to make anything out of them.
I found myself making up stories without enough support from the facts — and ending up even more confused. Maybe that was my mistake. Maybe the point was never to understand.
Perhaps my error was trying to understand everything rather than simply embracing the film as it was — the passing of time, the feelings that emerge in response to the presented scenes. I like being challenged by a director. But I need something to hold onto while being challenged, and Dolls didn't give me that.
Kitano caught me off guard here. We stand among cherry blossoms — myself lost, and Dolls misunderstood. That final image is the most honest thing I can say about the experience.