A brother and sister initiate a personal project to find out more about their grandfather, a World War II kamikaze pilot. When they discover their grandfather was universally regarded as a coward, their enthusiasm begins to wane. But the brother persists, discovering there is more to the story.
This is a subtle film, foregrounding the personal consequences of war for rounded, authentic characters. In the process, the film astutely stays away from either justifying or apologising for Japan's war actions. Jun'ichi Okada is a revelation as the pilot instructor who attempts to save his young charges from the excesses of his superiors, often at great personal sacrifice. He makes a promise to his wife, but then seems to compromise it in order to be loyal to his men. The resolution of this conflict makes for a powerful and well-plotted storyline.
The flashbacks to the war are engaging and dramatic, but the film's weak point is the bland Haruma Miura guiding us through the story. In a scene conspicuous for its shallow clunkiness, he berates his friends for equating tokkutai with modern-day suicide bombers. No real camaraderie seems to exist between the friends, and the whole scene seems designed merely to relay the point that modern-day fanaticism and historical Japanese 'heroism' cannot be equated. It is a fop to present-day rightist revisionism that is unworthy of the rest of the film.
Eien no Zero shows ordinary people living extraordinary lives in extraordinary circumstances. A thoughtful, emotional film that, casting flaws aside, proves cathartic and thought-provoking in equal measure.
