Shoplifters (Manbiki kazoku)

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ½

Hirokazu Koreeda is perhaps my favorite living Japanese director. “Nobody Knows” (2005), “Still Walking” (2009), “I Wish” (2011), “After the Storm” (2016). His list of great films is long. He has shown a genius for capturing real, natural, powerful human relationships. Everyone in his films seems so real and fragile, so full of pain and hope and need, even when they stoically try to appear strong. I love his characters and the world they inhabit. “Shoplifters” is no exception. The story covers a family who lives on the fringes of respectability, stealing and deceiving to get by. These are the types of people society loves to scorn, but through Koreeda’s eyes, we see into their hearts. These are deeply flawed people who genuinely love each other and treat each other with real affection and respect. Koreeda contrasts them with other, “respectable” families, calling into question what concepts like “morality” or “family” really mean. But this is a complicated story, and the members of this family are not painted as saints. Just when you think you understand the film’s perspective, the story shifts, so slightly at first you almost miss it, and things become a whole other shade of gray. Oh, so you think you know what’s going on and that you’re onboard for the story Koreeda is telling you? Well, he won’t let you off the hook that easily. I love that. True to that uncertainty, the film has a beautiful, typical Koreeda ending. The little girl stands up, looks over a wall and… her expression changes. What does she see? And is it right or wrong? By the time the credits roll, you may well wonder what the moral of the story is. Perhaps, there isn’t one. Or, perhaps it is simply to live life aware of the complexities around you. Perhaps, the greatest sin is simply the moral laziness of believing in unambiguous truths.