Amateur Recommendation Hour: Kids On The Slope

Today’s recommendation is a thematically and tonally brilliant balance of reality and idealism punctuated by its reverence for a genre of music that once swept the world over and the celebration and value of the music that makes so many of us feel so much for so many individualistically unique reasons. A depth that goes far deeper than any of us could fully comprehend in our neurological complexity and will remind us of the most vulnerable and cherished periods of our youths. Looking back on social tensions and awkward interactions with softness and warmth when experiencing them in our young minds was anything but. Foundational to helping us find self-discovery and community with each other that stands the test of time.

Kids On The Slope, directed by Shinichiro Watanabe, with music composed by Yoko Kanno, is a story set in 1960s Japan of a high school student, Kaoru Nishimi, from an affluent family learning how to acclimate to his new countryside surroundings and his transition from classical to jazz pianist through his unexpected friendship with delinquent drummer Sentaro Kawabuchi with whom he forms a jazz band that practices in the basement of the record shop owned by their friend and classmate Ritusko Mukae. Just leaving it at that would sell it extremely short, since it is a character driven narrative, the plot points aren’t as important as who is involved in them and how they grapple with their implications. Its setup is straightforward but it's never more than it needs to be. It's in in the execution where it earns its stripes. As is the case with most of not all works of art.

There are a lot of heavy topics and themes explored, given varying degrees of attention. The class divides of the 1960s that also intertwined between patrons and creatives of classical and jazz music, the cycle of mass protestation that swept the world over during the height of the Cold War, upstart young adults and traditionalism clashing. It capitalizes on its nostalgic feel without lionizing its era as a perfect time without fault. And while it is told primarily from the viewpoint of adolescents, we see through their interactions with their elder friends and relatives the bits and pieces of the harsh real world blurring into the lives of the younger demographic. Something that is even more prevalent now in the information age, given smaller roots in a different way at an earlier time in our history. It is depicted with such care that is noticeable to the smallest detail. These are both parts important background and foreground information allowing the tone of the work be maintained with a consistency but only venturing outside its small town field of vision when absolutely necessary. The world feels like a smaller place, a product of its time period, but importantly and necessarily being reminded of its size when cultural elements of its rural perspective come to the forefront, such as international jazz musicians, discrimination, and protest movements. Allowing a window into the world outside of what we see in the daily life of the main characters.

The main characters mostly have well fleshed out backstories fed to the viewer in a very naturalistic way, each with their own clearly defined reasons for being conflicted in ways that I'm sure all of us can identify with, in one way or another, give us reason to be tethered to them and their personal plights. And it is never excessively melodramatic or over-indulgent, striking a very healthy middle ground between minimalist and extravagant, hitting each respective beat when it would naturally feel appropriate. Hitting its emotional moments with the intensity felt for its teenaged main cast but removed enough that to the initiated, its emotional force can be seen for what it is. The believability and reactivity of each character dealing with their own endeavors at each given point in their lives and as it relates to each of their personal experiences is ripely woven into dialogue, decision making, narrative stakes, and character animations. The story is created more by the characters and the natural situations they find themselves in as opposed to an overarching story being filled in by character action. “Good characters write themselves” is never more true than in a story with the intentions at play here.

Yoko Kanno doing the score in a work where music is a focal point should speak for itself. The woman is a genius. Jack of all trades and master of all. As is the case with her work it becomes as identifying to the overall work as any element involved in the artistic process. In fact as this is a show about music she is able to have an even bigger role on the proceedings, imprinting even more of her personality and style on the show. Setting tone, delivering narrative and tonal backdrop to a given scene, it feels vastly more influential here given that what she is does is very much at the heart of Kids On The Slope as a work of fiction. In a way that doesn’t feel contradictory in the slightest yet fully intentional, it is in the moments of silence that, on a human level, hit the hardest. A character sitting at a piano in contemplation, another shocked into quiet by the action of another, the awkward silence that occurs before the ice is broken between mildly estranged family members meeting for the first time in years. They are discomforting on their own without accompaniment. We know what this feels like without artistic guidance. It is intelligent on a level few could create and see into tangible reality.

As is the case with Watanabe’s works, it is thematically very rich. Ultimately I believe this work to be about the importance of male relationships, self-actualization, the unifying presence that musical inclination provides, and the value of embracing different experiences you may not be used to or even look down upon at previous points of your life. 

Adolescence is the first time in our young lives where upheaval occurs on a grand scale. Emotionally, physically, physiologically, all cascading on top of one another whilst learning an emerging set of new social hierarchy and rules. Empathy can be felt by each and every human being but so uniquely, almost indescribably beautifully as through music. The way it is written, how each individual plays their part and their perspective of said part. And no matter the aptitude of the player, musical inclination gives so much dimension to our experiences, of all kinds. With each mistake we learn more. The key to healthy, meaningful, enduring, and ever lasting connections is in learning how each of us process the rhythm, handle its tempo, and manage each dynamic marking with the appropriate level of intensity and softness.