Waitress - A Modern American Melodrama

Plot Summary

      Waitress (2007) at first appears to be a light-hearted romantic comedy about Jenna, a waitress made submissive by her husband Earl’s violent tendencies, falling for her gynecologist, Dr. Pomatter. The silliness of Jenna’s two waitress friends and her comically therapeutic habit of naming pies after her most recent frustration act to balance some of the incredibly dark themes upon which the film is built: domestic abuse, infidelity, and the fear of single-motherhood. Though it was originally meant to remain a movie, the quirky and unique nature of the film inspired singer-songwriter Sara Bareilles to write a produce a Broadway musical version of the story in 2017.

Waitress on Broadway with original cast featuring Keala Settle as Becky (left), Jessi Mueller as Jenna (Center), and Kumiko Glenn as Dawn (right)

Waitress as a Melodrama

     Though Jenna's daughter, Lulu, isn't born until the very end of the film (and play), the mother-daughter relationship is a significant overarching theme. From Jenna's perspective, her unborn child is is the only other person in the world facing the kind of pressure she's currently working through, so it's natural that she often thinks out loud, and addresses "baby" as if her daughter is right in front of her. The theme of motherhood becomes quite clear after Lulu is born happy and healthy, and Jenna is finally depicted in a scene that doesn't evoke feelings of anger or disappointment. Following other events surrounding the birth of her daughter, Jenna is found in quite a dark place. It is the birth of her child that brings her a sense of calmness and relief that all she has sacrificed and endured has been worth it. 

     Waitress, especially in its Broadway adaptation, depicts and extraordinary amount of exaggerated acting on everyone's part except for, interestingly enough, Jenna. Her abusive husband is portrayed as a harmless simpleton in the Broadway production, Dr. Pomatter's promiscuous behavior with a pregnant patient is not commonly expected of gynecologists, and the portrayals of Jenna's friends Becky and Dawn are characatures created for the purpose, I believe, of creating two polar opposites of attitudes that Jenna can have. They're like reference points in the film so that the audience can see how Jenna's view of life and marriage balances between her reckless friend Becky and her overly cautious, pessimistic pal Dawn.

                               One of Jenna's famous creations: "I don't want Earl's baby" pie

Social/Cultural Significance

     The privilege of being in a long-term committed relationship brings senses of both pleasure, those being physical and emotional, and duty, derived from the need to fulfill the vows made to one’s spouse. As it has its roots, customs, and traditions in a plethora of cultures, religions, and societies, marriage is not an uncommon personal goal. To some, the idea of a white picket fenced house with a loving spouse and healthy children is still seen as a significant accomplishment in life, and Shelly’s female characters are no exception. With Becky’s constant complaints of her ailing husband, Dawn’s troubles with speed-dating, and Jenna’s problematic marriage, all three waitresses experience the same feeling of displeasure that accompanies not living up to the outdated misconception that maintaining a successful marriage with children is a prerequisite for a woman’s happiness. This mindset leads Dawn, the most timid of the trio, to settle for a speed-date suitor, against whom she originally intended to file a restraining order, because she did not think anything better was about to come around and wants to experience married life. A concern attached to the idolization of marriage and the perceived need to participate in it is the fact that reality usually does not measure up to the dream we seek so desperately to manifest, especially in relationships.

Melodrama in Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice

Melodrama in Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice

Introduction

Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice is an action game set in the late Sengoku era that follows the titular character's journey to take back his master after they are separated. While it would be difficult to holistically classify Sekiro as melodrama, the cutscenes and character interactions do use melodramatic tropes and effects.

Background

The story is set in the last days of the Sengoku era in the country of Ashina. Ashina is using its remaining strength to maintain its independence from the new shogun. The country was formerly led by a fearsome warrior named Isshin, but due to his age he no longer participates directly in conflicts, and instead leaves command of his military largely in the hands of his grandson Genichiro. Genichiro's passion for his homeland matches -- and may even exceed -- his grandfather's. In order to gain an edge in this fight against the shogun's forces (referred to as the "Interior Ministry" in game), he seeks the assistance of the master that Wolf's (not yet known by the name Sekiro) father charged him with protecting, the Divine Child Kuro. Kuro is the last living possessor of the Dragon's Heritage, which makes him and those he chooses to give his blood to immortal. Kuro does not permit Genichiro this power, and so he is taken away by force. Wolf retrieves him, but is defeated and has his arm cut off by Genichiro. With the help of the one-armed sculptor Sekijou, Sekiro is given a prosthetic replacement, and sets off to retrieve his master again.

Melodramatic Characters and Their Actions

We have defined melodrama throughout the semester as possessing a number of qualities, one of which is how character's actions are not appropriate or don't necessarily reflect the circumstances at hand. Some characters are traditionally melodramatic; they are boisterous, loud, and the antithesis of subtlety with respect to their emotions in low-intensity scenarios. Others, however, are the opposite. That is to say that their emotions are played down or absent in situations that should be tense. Interestingly, we observe that characters who fall into the former group are mostly villains and enemies, while characters that fall into the latter are the protagonists. Isshin Ashina is the best example of this. While his antagonistic nature is subject to debate (he both assists and antagonizes Wolf throughout the game), his personality is most identifiable with the 'villain' camp. Isshin seems aloof, even when Wolf's actions are directly dismantling the country he has made. He even goes so far as to offer Wolf sake. Even when greater issues are at hand, he instead dons a tengu mask and calls himself the Tengu of Ashina and kills members of the Interior Ministry rather than Wolf. Wolf himself is an excellent example, and indeed typifies members of the 'protagonist' group. Wolf is at every turn berated and laid low by various enemies. From the very start of the game enemies remark how useless he is. Even in light of these various stresses, Wolf remains emotionless. He is singlemindedly concerned with rescuing Kuro. There is one character who shifts from the 'protagonist' group to the 'villain' group in terms of his actions in the form of Wolf's adopted father Owl. Owl's raising of Wolf is all a part of his plan to obtain Kuro's blood for himself. This is not revealed until Wolf decides to defy Owl about halfway through the game. Owl prior to this was much like Wolf -- emotionless and cold. In the brief scenes we see of him after Wolf severs ties with him, he becomes like Isshin, in a way. Flamboyant, boisterous, and insulting. He even goes so far as to feign tears. Though he was always a villain, his change to a more melodramatic personality makes it ever more salient.

While on the subject of melodramatic actions and characters, one particularly poignant example is the Sculptor, Sekijou. Throughout the game he serves as a quasi-mentor figure, and what little he tells us about himself points to him having succumbed to rage over the death of his friend, and was only stopped once Isshin severed his arm. He mentions that Buddha only shows him images of flame to imply that his rage is not quelled, only temporarily subdued. He vanishes later in the game and reappears as an optional enemy to fight, but this time he is in the form of a fiery demon. This is implied to be the result of his refusal to confront his emotions. His inability to act as he should, and instead opting to remain emotionless even if it harms him has caused him to take this form. Perhaps the most melodramatic and salient evidence for this is how he acts when you first approach him in this form. He assumes a Kabuki pose called a mie typically reserved for moments where a character's emotions are at their zenith.

Sekijou, as the Demon of Hatred, assuming a mie stance

Positioning

Positioning and lighting also operate similarly in Sekiro like they do in the works we've been viewing over the course of the semester. They are used to further enforce previous ideas and enhance emotions in a given scene. One prominent example is Wolf's battles with Genichiro. In their first fight, Genichiro cuts off Wolf's arm with his sword and the resulting shot is one where Genichiro is faced away from him, both of their backs are to each other, and Wolf is kneeling while Genichiro stands. This enforces the notion that Genichiro possesses the "upper-hand" (no pun intended) in their rivalry. Genichiro has power and leverage over Wolf in that he has stolen his master from him. Contrast this with their second battle where Wolf emerges victorious. The resulting scene has a standing Wolf clashing blades with a kneeling Genichiro. Wolf's face is dead-pan and expressionless, while Genichiro is visibly struggling to prevent Wolf from overtaking him. Interesting to note is that in this scene snow suddenly begins to fall. This strengthens the notion that Ashina has entered her winter, and will soon wither and die with the defeat of Genichiro. 

A second example of positioning playing a role in storytelling akin to how we've seen it is in Wolf's fight with his father, Owl. Three years prior, Owl (unbeknownst to Wolf) backstabs Wolf, causing Kuro to use his powers to grant him immortality. Owl's backstabbing Wolf is representative of the way that he has manipulated him since his youth to further his own goals. In their final fight, Wolf backstabs Owl, bringing getting revenge for a slight he didn't know he had incurred. 

DESIGNER デザイナー (1978 shojo manga)

DESIGNER デザイナー (1978 shojo manga)

When I was studying abroad in Kyoto last spring, I had the great pleasure to volunteer at the Kyoto International Manga Museum (MM) as an interpreter at the reception, as well as an assistant to the head archivist. Boasting a collection of more than 300k publications, MM is also home to hundreds of rare manga that are unavailable elsewhere, not even online. Every time I get off work, I would stay there for an hour or two to read, to make the most out of my privilege of being there for free (the tickets were quite pricey). I was particularly interested in early shojo manga, and among the works I got to read, Designer (デザイナー) by Yukari Ichijo left a lasting impression on me. As I finished reading Designer, my immediate reaction was: “this was the most melodramatic thing I’ve ever read.” Now, equipped with a further understanding of the term “melodrama,” I want to re-evaluate the elements that make Designer a melodramatic work, to validate my reaction at that time when I only had a vague idea regarding what “melodrama” means.

Desinger (1974) Volume 1 & 2, by Yukari Ichijo.

Yukari Ichijo (1949-) is considered one of the foundational shojo manga artists (along with Riyoko Ikeda mentioned in my previous blogpost) who set the standards and the techniques and visual style of shojo manga in the 70s and beyond. According to my mentor at MM, Yukari Ichijo is particularly known for her fashionable characters. Her drawing style is gorgeous, and she pours a lot of effort into the details in the setting, while shojo manga tends to omit realism in the background sometimes. Designer was my first contact with Yukari Ichijo, and I was immensely impressed by her stylish presentation of not only the plot but also the characters’ inner thoughts. This combination of detailed realism and emphasis on the characters’ emotions became the ideal foundation for a melodramatic story to take place.

Plot Summary

Ami is a young, gorgeous supermodel at the top of her game, yet she is shrouded in mystery - nobody knows anything about her family background, not even her last name. In fact, she is vengefully plotting to overtake her mother, Reika Otori, as the No.1 fashion designer in the country. Reika abandoned Ami at a young age and a lonely Ami had to go through tremendous hardship to get to where she is now. The two sometimes collaborate, but Reika is oblivious to the fact that Ami is her daughter.

Ami later met Toki, a young billionaire entrepreneur, and he sees great potential in Ami. Toki becomes Ami’s patron and hires top fashion designers from around the globe to assist her in defeating Reika. As Ami makes a widely successful debut with her first fashion show, Reika finally sees Ami as a real threat to her throne.

Meanwhile, Ami finds herself attracted to Aoishi, a middle-aged editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine who has a mature, passive outlook on the rigorous competition going on in the fashion world. Akira, a top photographer whom Ami always works with, confesses his feelings to her knowing that her heart lies elsewhere. Arisa, Ami’s only friend and an admirer of Akira, desperately offers her body up to Akira as a consolation. A rejected Akira emotionally gets sexually involved with Arisa, but he finally realizes how selfless Arisa is to him, and slowly nurtured sincere feelings towards her. The two bear a child.

As Ami is nearing the top, she confesses to Aoishi but is shocked to learn that he is actually her father - making him the ex-husband of the woman she hates - leaving Ami devastated. To make things worse, Ami gets caught in a car accident, further damaging her will to stay focused on her goal to overtake her mother. Toki, who develops affection towards Ami, helps her get back on track and the two, finding peace and happiness in each other, finally fall in love, and Ami is finally able to forgive her mother… ONLY to find out that they are actually twin siblings related by blood, while Toki is adopted by a billionaire. This piece of information led to Ami’s suicide, which sends Toki into a state of psychological impairment, causing him to forget everything about her. Reika, already defeated by Ami, moves to Paris to further her studies in fashion design alone, leaving the readers with a classic quote: “I was a designer before I was a woman.”(“女である前にデザイナーなのよ。”)

Designer and Melodrama

I don’t think I’ve ever felt this mentally exhausted after reading manga. I have read a few shojo manga by Riyoko Ikeda and I thought I had braced myself for the number of plot twists and women scheming to destroy each other’s lives, but I was still devastated by the ending of Designer. All that drama was packed into merely two volumes, and almost every single chapter contains a twist in one way or another. This excess of drama could have been comedic, but somehow Designer, along with some other early shojo manga I came across, was still able to initiate an emotional response from me.

Designer centers around a quite conventional mother-daughter rivalry, and the plot is made unpredictable and filled with hyperdramatic moments that shatter readers’ expectations. The extent of emotional intensity involved in each of these moments was extreme, and it is further accentuated by Yukari Ichijo’s pioneering illustration and formatting techniques that amplify the coverage of inner monologues and facial expressions. The beautifully written monologues are presented by repetitive panels that depict even small changes of a character’s facial expression and gestures, reminiscent to theatrical soliloquies. The melodramatic appeal to emotions is at work; overall, it was a very action-packed, plot-driven story, but it slows down when appropriate to leave ample room for the monologues to sink in, in order to grip the readers’ emotions, which also explains the popularity of shojo manga at the time.

While melodrama typically involves the clash of moral polarities or class struggle, Designer does not really provide a solid moral framework for the readers to determine who’s good or bad. It constantly reveals new information about characters’ relationships and motivations, prompting re-evaluations on the degree of sympathy towards each of the characters from time to time. For example, Reika is initially presented as a cold-hearted mother who will do anything to reach the top, but we as we gradually learn about the reasons behind her actions, we start to respect her as a woman who is willing to make the sacrifice it takes to perfect an art. In the end, the only villain in the story seems to be “fate.” The term fate/運命 is a frequenter in early shojo manga, as the characters always refer to: 1)how cruel fate is 2)how amazing fate is to bring two people together 3)how unpredictable fate is. The mentioning of fate elevates the tragedy of such plots since they emphasize the powerlessness of the precious characters against it, and romanticize their downfall, which deepens the appeal to our emotions.

Family, Gender, and Melodrama

Pertaining to our viewing of Mildred Pierce, Designer also brings to my mind the quote from Halperin’s “The Sexual Politics of Genre”: “A generational conflict, by contrast [to one of father-son], even at its most serious or passionate, cannot rise above the level of melodrama” (p.261). I did get this impression from Designer, especially since the rivalry among women is a well-established trope that is deemed melodramatic, campy, and soap opera-esque. The male characters in designer also directly address how “meaningless” female rivalry is, even Aoishi undermines Ami’s intense sentiment towards her mother/his ex-wife.

I found myself initially reading with the detached, ironic perspective Halperin mentions since I couldn’t really sympathize with Ami since she is too unattainable. She herself isn’t necessarily a likable character herself, and the intensity of her hatred to Reika, and Reika’s relentless determination to remain on the top were unrealistic enough for me to have the same dismissive reaction as the male characters. Halperin writes, “for so much excessive and hollow emotions requires justification, and no rational explanation is available to justify its hyperbolic extremes…you will have to assert [adequate justification] by force. Violence is required.” (p.267) This is exactly what Designer does: it involves a (planned) car crash, a fair amount of slapping, and suicide among other things. Although it didn’t take me long to abandon my detached perspective and become wholeheartedly invested into the story like the typical shojo manga reader I am, as the plot proceeds, the violence eventually explained that excess for me, and I was able to savor all the emotions Yukari Ichijo wants me to take in.

I Want to Eat Your Pancreas (君の膵臓を食べたい)-live action movie -Blog 3

I Want to Eat Your Pancreas (君の膵臓を食べたい) is a live-action movie adapted from a novel by Sumino Yoru that was released into Japanese cinemas on July 28, 2017. The movie’s unique title has drawn attention from many viewers during the time of the screening and prior. Some of the main roles were played by famous actors and actresses such as Shun Oguri and Keiko Kitagawa.

Summary

This story is told in the form of a flashback the antisocial main character Haruki Shiga (in his late 20s) thinks back to his high school life. It all started from how Haruki accidentally finds a book titled the “Disease Coexistence Journal” which belongs to a classmate of his called Sakura. From reading the first few pages of the book before Sakura asks for the book back, he discovers that Sakura is currently suffering from pancreatic cancer and that the book serves as a journal to document her days with cancer. Sakura tells Haruki that she only has less than a year to live, but plans to make the most out of it. She pleads Haruki not to tell anyone else, thus her pancreatic cancer is a secret shared among the two. The relationship between two classmates who have never talked to each other begins after their meeting. At a certain point, during a time when both the protagonists go out on a trip to the temple, Sakura tells Haruki about a belief that if you were to eat an organ of someone who was dying, once they die their soul would still leave within you. Thus, she jokingly asks Haruki to eat her pancreas after she dies.

Due to Haruki being seen as an antisocial figure with no friends, Sakura’s best friend Kyoko starts to wonder and feel slightly jealous of Haruki, as if he was taking away her best friend. Therefore, Kyoko and Haruki were never on good terms.

As days passed, both Sakura and Haruki bond more and more with each other. From being close to someone so lively and optimistic, Haruki starts to change for the better.

The story however, takes an unexpectedly twist. Sakura eventually dies, not because of her pancreatic cancer but because of being stabbed to death by a murderer that was currently lurking in the city at the time. This meant that no one apart from Haruki and Sakura’s family knew of Sakura’s illness.

Fast-forwarding to roughly ten years in the future, Haruki displays signs of regret for not really living the life Sakura would have wished him to (a more positive minded life). He receives a wedding invitation from Kyoko and makes a last-minute decision to attend her wedding ceremony. Unfortunately, Haruki did not make it in time for the ceremony, but manages to see and talk to Kyoko afterwards, explaining to her about Sakura and her conditions back in their high school days. He then asks to be Kyoko’s friend, which eventually got Kyoko breaking down in tears. The act of befriending Kyoko was what Sakura had once asked him for.

Connections to melodrama

Hyperbolic elements

As mentioned by both Ito and Brooks, one of the main connections a film or novel could make with genre melodrama is the “heightened and hyperbolic drama”. An example of this is found in I Want to Eat Your Pancreas through the background of the main protagonist, Haruki. Haruki is portrayed as an antisocial character who does not fit into society, thus he does not have any friends. This friendless background serves as an exaggeration for his isolation and loneliness which evokes an overall mood of pity and sadness around Haruki.

Excessive build-up of emotions

There is an excessive build-up of emotion that extends from the beginning to the end of the movie, mainly through the worsening of Sakura’s health that progresses. The main build-up of emotion occurs when Haruki is changing for the better by stepping out of his antisocial box and taking on a more positive look on life, while Sakura’s health is shown to be getting worse and worse. It is as if Sakura is slowly passing on her wishes and will of her remaining moments to Haruki so that he could live a happy life like Sakura.

Crying scene by Haruki

Similar to that of other melodrama movies, there is a breaking point that comes from one of the characters. Haruki who is depicted as a quiet, stoic person who refuses to show his emotions, breaks down crying after Sakura’s death. The fact that a stoic character opens up to his emotions and lets out his sadness heightens the melodramatic aspect of the movie.

Metaphors and motifs

-Philosophic views

Sakura represents the ‘philosopher’ element that exists in some melodrama. Despite knowing that death is soon to approach her, she has remarkable views on life and death.

-Connotations regarding the transience of life and love

This relates mostly to the title of the movie. Although it may seem gross at first, the context behind the meaning is discussed in the movie where Sakura talks about a belief that if you were to eat an organ of someone who was dying, once they die their soul would still leave within you. This implies that life and love are tied together.

-Pinky promise

A pinky promise serves as a symbol of oath or contract between two people. Through the actions of doing a pinky promise, which is often done by children, there is an element of purity present within Haruki and Sakura. In the hospital scene where Haruki pays Sakura a visit, Sakura makes him promise her that he wouldn’t tell anyone of her disease and that he will stick with her until she passes away. As they make their pinky promise, it is also noticeable that this is one of the very first scenes where the characters are making physical contact with each other, showing empathy and love and flows between the two.

Film aesthetics

Lighting

Lighting is used to interpret various messages, mostly relating to the character’s emotions. As shown in the scene below, there is a clear contrast in lighting split between Haruki (darker side) and Sakura (lighter side). This can be interpreted that Sakura has an optimistic mindset, whereas Haruki has a more pessimistic mindset. Moreover, the lighting in this scene can show the bonds that have not completely formed between the two. This scene happens towards the opening of the movie, thus both the characters have not quite developed a bond between them; therefore, the break in lighting can show the disconnection between feelings.

Memoirs of A Geisha

Memoirs of A Geisha is a film directed by American director Rob Marshall in 2005. Set in Japan during World War II, the film tells the lifetime story of Chiyo Matsumoto, a young Japanese girl from an impoverished family who is sold to an okiya (geisha house) by her father. Heartbroken and lost, Chiyo meets Chairman Iwamura, her love for the lifetime, and decides to become a geisha so that she can be part of the Chairman’s life. However, becoming a geisha is not as easy as Chiyo has imagined. As a new geisha, Chiyo doesn’t have too much choice over her customers. She is forced to entertain Chairman’s friend, even though the only person who she admires is the Chairman. As Chiyo becomes the most well-known geisha in Gion, Japan’s defeat in the war eventually caused the downfall of entertainment activities. Chiyo is forced to leave Kyoto after her transient success as a geisha. But luckily, after the war, Chiyo meets the Chairman again while she helps him to relaunch his business after the war. In the final, Chiyo and the Chairman finally confess love to each other.

As a memoir, the film is narrated in Chiyo’s perspective and it’s easy for us to understand Chiyo’s thoughts at different time. After Chiyo falls in love with the Chairman, there is a scene where she runs down the Senbon Torii gates, smiling and anticipating. This is one of the most famous, and also my favorite melodramatic moment in the film. In this scene, Chiyo’s emotion is excessive. Her happiness, her hope, and her dream to become part of the Chairman’s life. The audience definitely read and feel Chiyo’s emotion, even without the narrative.

Another Melodramatic scene in the movie is where Chiyo’s rival, Hatsumomo, finds out her love for the Chairman and the two physically fight each other at the Okiya. There are a lot of emotional outburst, as the audience can feel the tension between these two women increase as we see Chiyo’s uneasiness. Hatsumomo used to be the most famous geisha at the okiya, but Chiyo’s success immediately takes all men’s attention from her. But Hatsumomo is not one of those subordinate geishas who do not fight against fate. She loves, she hates, and she acts purely based on her desire. Hatsumomo is the exact opposite of Chiyo’s teacher, Mameha, who is always calm and knows what’s best for herself. Throughout the film, Chiyo is basically choosing between Hatsumomo and mameha: either be dispassionate like Mameha or emotional like Mameha. In her Chiyo’s fight with Hatsumomo, we definitely see Chiyo is more like the latter. The motif behind all her actions is her love for the Chairman. When atsumomo is chased out of the okiya, Chiyo says, “ I could be her. Now I am geisha to this house. Were we so different? She loved once, she hoped once,  I might be looking into my own future.” At the end of that scene, the okiya is set on fire. Everything in the okiya is burnt into ashes, implying the end of Chiyo’s career as a geisha.

The second part of the movie, which is set in postwar Japan, mainly focus on the theme of chaos and the loss of tradition. The postwar Japan is experiencing huge culture change and foreigners mistakenly take geisha as prostitutes. Chiyo’s old friend, Pumpkin, who used to be a geisha at the okiya house, becomes one of those who sells her body to make a living.  However, Chiyo does not give in to this change. In her mind, geisha is an elegant work of art that allows her to reach the world that she otherwise could never reach; it is the only connection that she has with the Chairman. “But I was a far from the geisha I had once been. The secrets of our hidden world were postcards now for girls back home. Any streetwalker with a painted face and silk kimono could call herself a geisha.” The contradiction between Chiyo and Pumpkin is the vivid representation of the conflict of tradition and modernization in postwar Japan society. Chiyo is desperate, because now being a geisha means giving her body to another man. Up until here, the tragic elements are very obvious in the film. It seems natural for us to expect a sad ending that is common to most Japanese postwar melodramas. However, the film ends with Chiyo’s reunion with the Chairman, a happy ending that  is more common in Hollywood melodramas. After all, Memoirs of A Geisha is made by an American director. Although the style and the ending is quite different from a typical Japanese melodrama, it still in some degrees addresses the topic that is very common in Japanese melodrama.