Fablelike Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter riffs on Fargo

    1 of 2 2 of 2

      Starring Rinko Kikuchi. In English and Japanese, with English subtitles. Rated G.

      Even if it’s early to say, I don’t expect this year to deliver 10 titles better than Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter. A film of confident design and provocative insights, it worms its way into your subconscious, mirroring the strange dream state of its heroine, a dronelike Tokyo “office lady” unforgettably played by Rinko Kikuchi (seen in western films like Pacific Rim and The Brothers Bloom).

      Initially Japanese in tone and location, the film is an American product of the fringe-indie Zellner brothers—directed by David and written by him with Nathan, who plays a part later in the story. It was exec-produced by Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor, and shares a heightened, fablelike reality with their films, such as Nebraska and Election, and those of other brothers, called Coen.

      In fact, Kumiko begins with the same “This is a true story” legend that kicked off Fargo, back in 1996, and is the title of a 2003 documentary about a Japanese tourist reputedly lost in the Minnesota snow while looking for that suitcase full of money.

      As the fellow said in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, it’s always better to “print the legend”, and the fictional Kumiko is presented as someone determined to believe she has discovered hidden truths—and buried treasure—in her fetishized VHS copy of an old Steve Buscemi movie.

      With only the creepy condescension of her boss and her mother’s endless disapproval to look forward to, Kumiko makes like Psycho’s Marion Crane and lets the company’s money take her as far as it can: to wintry Minnesota. She’s determined to reach the North Dakota city of the title, even if Fargo itself never quite got there. And, as befits someone who landed in Michele Bachmann’s back yard, she continues to be driven by her insane mission despite all setbacks and confrontations with the truth. The startling finish is a twisted reminder of how far we can go no matter where we start.

      Comments