As soaring as Atsuko Maeda's rendition of Edith Piaf's Hymne à l'Amour is to the backdrop of the mountains surrounding Tashkent, Uzbekistan, this is a rather flat film. Maeda plays a TV journalist traveling with a small crew to capture a travelogue of sorts. In some of the film's best moments, we see her flip her TV personality on like a light switch and become animated, which is quite a contrast to the pensive person she is while not on camera. We also see how she's treated a bit like a prop by the crew, certainly not being in control and forced, for example, to ride a nausea-inducing rickety deathtrap of an amusement park ride more than once, with little regard for what it was doing to her. As a young woman, she's also eyed warily by the locals, but we ultimately see that they are reasonable and kind, which was probably part of the film's larger goal, to celebrate the 25th anniversary of diplomatic relationship between Japan and Uzbekistan.
Unfortunately, director (and writer) Kiyoshi Kurosawa just didn't put together a compelling enough story, or to expand on its numerous subplots in a satisfying way. The forced labor to build the Navoi Theater by Japanese POW's after WWII was mentioned but undeveloped further, and other incidents like the young woman's boyfriend being at risk because of a fire in Tokyo she sees on the TV felt the same way, just failed attempts at plot escalation. She wanders aimlessly and awkwardly (if not recklessly) through markets, perhaps a metaphor for her character aimlessly moving through life in a job she doesn't enjoy when her real passion is singing, but I didn't feel any real soul searching here. It's unfortunate because being transported to Uzbekistan, the culture clash, the window into the artificiality of tourism, and the main character's personal crisis were all of interest to me, and I feel the film could have been so much better. It had its moments though.
