Bradley Rust Gray’s blood is a beautifully observed film that never arrives at its desired emotional destination.
After her husband dies, Chloe (Carla Juri), a reserved photographer, travels to Japan for a work trip. She’s there to photograph craftsman — wasabi makers, ceramists, soba masters — and their intricate processes. Between these appointments, she spends time with her husband’s friend Toshi (Takashi Ueno), a scruffy Japanese man, and his daughter (Futaba Okazaki). The duo’s relationship begins amicably but as they grow closer, romantic feelings emerge.
blood
Blood meticulously traverses the ridges and grooves of Chloe’s grief, watching the young widow as she navigates present-day responsibilities, sifts through memories of the past and processes conflicting emotions. But the film’s distant gaze gets in its own way, ultimately doing a disservice to the characters and viewers alike.
Related Stories
This isn’t initially obvious. There’s a lot to marvel at in blood, especially when it comes to aesthetics. Gray and DP Eric Lin render Tokyo sensitively, the city and nearby countryside enlivened by the film’s soft focus. An arresting opening sequence creates an inviting welcome to the film’s world: two trains chugging across bridges, river water glistening and the sun’s orange glow bathing the skyline.
In the next moment, we see Chloe and Toshi driving along a verdant highway. They are on their way to see Toshi’s grandmother (Sachiko Ohshima), an energetic old woman who tends an enviously lush garden. The awkwardness of their early interactions make up the beginnings of blood, which relishes the minute details of people getting to know one another. Chloe understands some Japanese but doesn’t speak it well. Her communication with Toshi and his grandmother, neither of whom is proficient in English, comes off in fits and spurts. Gray does an assured job capturing the languorousness of cross-cultural communication while mostly avoiding the pitfalls of condescension.
Yet the narrative’s inertia eventually stiffens these interactions, making them increasingly harder to indulge. The characters remain frustratingly opaque. Who is Chloe and where does she come from? Why go to Japan? How long has her husband been dead? Why does photography interest her? Who is Toshi outside of his burgeoning romance with Chloe? What are his desires?
Occasionally, Gray gestures at bits of character development, but they are few and far between. One particularly poignant moment occurs while Chloe is traveling with her boss, Yatsuro (Issey Ogata). She wonders if she is doing the right thing and about her inclination to overthink. They are discussing her photographs, but, it seems, the conversation extends to her life as well. Yatsuro affirms her perspective: “Human beings always think too much,” he says to her. But the key, he goes on to say, is to surround yourself with others, from whom you can learn new things and then see yourself and the world differently. Tender interactions like these illuminate Chloe’s emotional state, giving viewers more to latch on to than her longing stares and anxious lip biting.
The same goes for Toshi. While he’s on a date with another woman, a chef explains to Toshi the process by which the restaurant prepares crabs. The story prompts him to muse about Chloe and her life’s work. “Chloe will like something like this, probably,” he wonders out loud in front of his date. When the young woman asks if he and Chloe are dating, Toshi mournfully dismisses the idea. In moments like these, when the narrative offers more than a passing interest in Toshi, we come to understand why his interactions with Chloe can feel so stilted: He is falling in love with his close friend’s wife, and that’s unnerving.
Blood unfurls at a steady, unhurried pace, which, at times, makes it easier to appreciate some of the small moments and feelings on which the film meditates. But too often the scenes feel like flashpoints in a bigger story we only partially access. Gray’s thematic interests — what it means to relate to others, how grief can help and hinder in forging new connections — become clearer in scenes between Chloe, Toshi and Toshi’s daughter. As the trio form a makeshift family, Chloe’s inner life, her conflicting desires, her reluctance to move forward feel more sharply rendered. Unfortunately it’s still not enough to inject blood with the life it needs.
