Amateur Recommendation Hour: The Third Murder

Today’s recommendation is a bitingly relevant and beautifully morally gray legal drama from one of the very best artists in contemporary filmmaking. Art is sometimes the best way to deal with complicated, nuanced topics as they relate to our real world that inspires such stories. The artists that are able to break down the complex moral stew of reality and give it form through storytelling mediums like cinema are as soulful and remarkable as anyone. The way that they are able to meticulously craft compelling drama, characters that feel real, believable, and layered just as you would find in every day life, it feels like magic, it really does.

The Third Murder, written and directed by prolific Japanese filmmaker Hirokazu Koreeda steps out of his comfort zone of emotionally complex familial dramas into the uncharted territory of a legal thriller that deals with the aftermath of the crime. The “why did he do it” aspect that is made compelling, absorbing, and consistently great by Koreeda’s steady yet razor-edged direction and pacing, some understated, subtly brilliant composition (it’s amazing to me just how well Koreeda can frame when a decent percentage of this film is shot through panes of prison glass), and Koreeda’s proficiency as a layered character writer.

The “who done it” murder mystery is a storytelling method that has existed for as long as any of us can remember. The tension, the anxiety, the uncertainty, of discovering the culprit of one of the most heinous crimes in which a human can perpetrate against another is a remarkable way to build suspense amongst the audience and captivate our morbid curiosity. 

It is in the way that The Third Murder deviates on a formula, contextualized in a way that gives us more interest in the motive than the mystery of identity that adds a layer of intrigue and, to an extent, dramatic irony that makes it’s spectacle more smart, cerebral, and mystifying in a way beyond a mere identity. The clarity of vision and execution of that vision is immensely impressive. 

The seemingly formulaic nature of the idea is easier to unshackle than one might think. As a film like this can prove a deviation and alteration of the tried and tested is not only a worthwhile refresh, but also a way of further expanding the scope and style to incorporate a director, writer, or any kind of creator from any kind of medium of storytelling's own personal touches. And as Hirokazu Koreeda has proved time and time again, his vision and penchant for creating idiosyncratic and unique works is as well realized and beautiful as ever.

The very first scene we are greeted with Misumi, a recently fired food service employee, viscerally murdering his former boss, the CEO of said factory. The mystery of “who” solved right before our eyes. It is up to Shigemori and his legal team to figure out the “why” trying to save him from seemingly certain death penalty. And as they are about to discover, Misumi is a hard nut to crack. Not content to merely give them the answers they seek in plain and certain terms. And there has to be a reason. He’s been caught and has seemingly nothing to gain from withholding his motivations any further.

The overcast, cold color palette, draped over seemingly every scene does a remarkable job establish tone and thematic intentions, reminding us at every turn just how morally muddy and (dare I say it) gray the world of legality is. As we dig more and more into Misumi’s past, we are confronted with our own uncertainties into what his justification is, why he felt he had to do this, and what led to his own demise. Our heads continue to spin along with the legal representatives and the more we question whether or not we understand anything about this crime.

As Koreeda and any artist worth their weight in gold would tell you, the artist must only ask questions in which the answers lie within our own hearts and minds. Through the conversations between Misumi and Shigemori we see the shift in which the lawyer begins to see himself and his relationship with the system that he is sworn to uphold. The belief system in which Shigemori sees being torn apart by Misumi. As a defense lawyer constantly faced with manipulating the truth for his client’s gain, has his expectations subverted by the humanity of his client and ultimately had forgotten in himself.

My interpretations of this work and the questions that I attempt to answer are in no way definitive, as only the best and most esteemed works of art can inspire such introspection from the viewer. The truth and the nature of justice are not always in lockstep, as much as those overseeing it may claim otherwise. The ethical conundrum of faithlessness in the legality of the systems and institutions leading to acts of self-righteous vigilantism. We can’t really consider it “justice” if it is carried outside of the system of which have worked so hard and long to make fair and well, just. Even if its outcome(s) may be considered by many, even a majority, to be objectively good for that very definition of justice.

Truth is treated as if it is a standard etched into the collective hearts of a moral society, it doesn’t have to be an inherently hopeless concept in the legal space. In the pursuit of that truth and justice we so crave, it should be possible to achieve a healthy compromise, and should such acts of what could be argued as “justified” violence outside of legal jurisdiction occur, it is proof of the system’s failure that such hopelessness is borne and that such an action would be deemed necessary by anyone in a civil society.