Though the story embarks on a well-trodden path, "Rail of the Star" unfolds
with such grace and simplicity that it feels as fresh to us as it is to Chiko.
The film, which is based on the autobiography of Chiko Kobayashi, chooses the
right moments to linger on minutia (tossing a ball, hiking up a hill) and doesn't
indulge in historical details that wouldn't seem important to a six-year-old.
It succeeds in conveying cultural collisions and the complex power struggles of
a multi-faceted war without betraying its young narrator.
Director Toshio Hirata's coupling of innocence and vivacious curiosity in Chiko's
youthful demeanor gives the drama its particular voice. She's sweet and resilient
but not overly sentimental. Even at their most subtle, her powerful, un-modulated
screams and laughs humanize her animated visage. Her particularities prevent her from
being just a kid or just a narrator. With a bobbed haircut and two splashes of red
across her cheeks, Chiko appears playful and believably selfish at times, yet
increasingly attentive to her kind parents.
While Americans may be interested to see a WWII film void of pro-US flag-waving,
"Rail of the Star" is not a story from the "other" side. Like most modern war stories,
the prevailing message purports that war and the fallacies of cultural supremacy damage
everyone severely, particularly accidental bystanders like Miko and Chiko.
The children are the stars of the film both narratively and artistically. Character
designer Yoshenori Kanemori draws Miko and Chiko with more idiosyncratic detail than the
adults in the story. Light, nursery-mobile-style music peppers the occasionally stark
scenes, giving viewers the feeling of visiting an antique playroom that has been cleared
of its contents, but remains thick with mood and memory. Resonant with this tone, Hirata
uses the image of incessantly falling snow in myriad ways. Sometimes it dances, sometimes
it freezes and sometimes it whispers of things to come.
But despite its restrained flourishes, the movie sometimes loses the battle to portray
a tumultuous era without resorting to melodrama. It doesn't trust its intrinsic nostalgia
enough to avoid scenes like a flashback to baby Miko's bubbly giggle, 20 minutes after she
giggled in real time.
Another big bid for an emotionally charged moment-the film's title motif-also provides
one of its biggest holes. Early on, Chiko's dad points out the North Star, explaining that
for eons travelers have used it as a beacon. Chiko recalls this when the family and other
refugees are lost in the woods on their way to South Korea and reminds her grateful father.
Despite the loving exchange, it's more than a little strange that Mr. Kobayashi would
completely forget such a basic survival skill.
But "Rail of the Star" is more about how than what in its depiction of cultural collisions
in the background of one ultimately happy childhood. Not aiming for supernova status, the quiet,
contemplative movie glimmers and sparkles.