Parting the veil on a Japanese household teetering on the verge of collapse, "Tokyo Sonata" may be director Kiyoshi Kurosawa's most conventional work-if conventional is the right word for a film that explores the contemporary family dynamic with such brooding fortitude. The renowned Japanese horror filmmaker has created a startlingly candid portrait of domestic life in "Tokyo Sonata," a film that, by evoking the waking nightmares of repressed souls, brims with a terror of its own accord.

Businessman Ryuhei Sasaki, victimized by economic downsizing after his company terminates his job, chooses to hide his predicament from his family by roaming the streets of Tokyo during daytime. His wife Megumi juggles housewife duties and a tenuous relationship with her oldest son Takashi, whose desire to break away from tradition echoes the detachment of Japanese youth in a society wreathed in materialism. The youngest member of the family, Kenji, rebels against authority yet displays sensitivity beyond his age when he discovers an innate passion for piano.

Juxtaposing tight interior shots of living rooms with panoramic compositions of urban sprawl, Kurosawa imbues the film with something of an otherworldly presence-a haunting, dreamlike aura that pervades "Tokyo Sonata" as its dysfunctional family continues to crumble inwardly. Conversations dissipate; lies build on previous lies; a mother's love is torn between duty and empathy. Humiliated by his jobless situation yet determined to maintain his patriarchal status, Ryuhei physically abuses Kenji for secretly taking piano lessons after browbeating Megumi for allowing Takashi to join the military. Recession-plagued Tokyo, already a landscape of existential lament, gradually takes a backseat to familial destruction.

The film's blend of domestic drama and social commentary is both poignant and timely. Office workers like Ryuhei and his colleagues are portrayed as ironic victims of the Japanese male dynamic, driven by their obligations to home and work yet completely unwilling to compromise after hitting rock bottom. In displaying the failure of authority in a culture that revolves around it, Kurosawa draws poignant contrasts. "We're like a slowly sinking ship," grieves an unemployed friend of Ryuhei. "The lifeboats are gone, the water's up to our mouths." Like a vessel slowly sliding into oblivion, ideals built around workplaces and households slowly disintegrate, replaced by coldness and bitter angst.

Tellingly, "Tokyo Sonata" eventually mirrors these systematic collapses by venturing into surreal territory. In one of the film's most affecting sequences, an afternoon nap turns into a chilling seance when Takashi returns home from the war, saying to his mother, "I killed so many people." Megumi's troubled psyche finally begins to eat away at her maternal strength. When a wayward burglar abducts her, and Ryuhei and Kenji encounter catastrophic situations, the film's quiet buildup escalates into irreversible mayhem.

When does it end, and where does it begin? The mother's catharsis, manifested in a sequence of lasting power, injects rays of hope into an otherwise miserable flurry of dead ends. The final movement of "Tokyo Sonata," uneven as it is compared to its predecessors, completes the cycle of fall and salvation with admirable finality. Powerfully acted and impeccably orchestrated, Kiyoshi Kurosawa's "Tokyo Sonata" is a masterful exercise in paradoxes: at one and the same time comical and melancholy, despairing and exultant, nihilistic and regenerative.

Economic hard times have surfaced in places like Japan, where one just could not imagine these extraordinary times the world is experiencing, would be also affecting them. No country appears to be immune to what the financial crisis has done to millions that have seen their jobs evaporate.

This is the story of Ryuhei Sasaki, a proud middle management employee, one of the casualties of downsizing, when his company lets him go after many years of having been with the firm. The life he enjoyed, comes tumbling down. In Ryuhei's case, he decides to keep on pretending nothing has happened. By not telling about his new status, pretending he is still working, Ryuhei creates a problem for himself and his family who has no clue he is unemployed with no prospects of getting a job.

There are problems in the Sasaki's household. His wife, Megumi, is a no nonsense woman. She has stayed home to take care of a husband and two sons. Takashi, the oldest boy, wants to join the US armed forces in a program that offers citizenship to all that volunteer. Kenji, the youngest son, begins having problems in school because of his rebellious nature. Kenji would like to learn to play the piano, against his father's wishes. He even goes to spend his lunch money on lessons at a musical academy where a beautiful woman, Kaneko, discovers a talent in Kenji's abilities to play the instrument.

Ryuhei is seen going out in the mornings as though nothing had happened. We see him getting frustrated by what jobs are available, paying much less than he was making. On his search, Ryuhei discovers the soup kitchens that seem to have sprouted everywhere in Tokyo. Megumi sees him one day while eating, but does not tell him. Pressed to accept a cleaning job at a mall, husband and wife will have a bizarre meeting at his work place, something Ryuhei cannot hide from her.

"Tokyo Sonata" is a lyrical poem about the hard times experienced by a man that never thought he would be out of a job. Directed by Kyyoshi Kurosawa, a man who has been involved in the horror genre, this film surprises by the complexity which Mr. Kurosawa and his writing partners, Max Mannix and Sachiko Tanaka created. It kept reminding us of the neo-realism period because of the atmosphere of doom and helplessness it presents. It also evokes another film by Laurent Cantent's "Le emploi du temps" which also deals with the unemployment issue.

Teruyuki Kawaga plays Ryuhei with conviction. This man loses his dignity when he is not able to provide for a family that up to this point depended on him. Not only does he let down his wife, but he cannot face the uncertain future. Kyoko Koizumi plays Megumi, the woman that has sacrificed everything to keep a home for years without complaining because the happiness of the others is essential.

Akiko Ashiwawa's cinematography gets the atmosphere Mr. Kurosawa wanted and shows a different Tokyo, one in which the circumstances have changed for the Sasakis. Good musical score by Kasumasa Hashimoto.

When I saw "Tokyo Sonata" I thought it was going to be a comedy. The plot sure sounds like a comedy--though it certainly is NOT. In fact, it's a super-depressing film--one that only gets worse and worse as you watch. In fact, it's so depressing that you might want to think twice about seeing it--particularly if you are out of work or middle-aged.

Mr. Sasaki is a mid-level manager. However, like what has happened so often here in the US also, his Japanese company has decided to move production to China and lay off their domestic employees. Oddly, however, he does not tell his family and continues behaving as if he's going to work each day. I really thought this was intended to be a dark comedy, but as his unemployment continued, things only got worse for him and his family. Slowly, his family began to unravel--as if each was re-inventing themselves--and not necessarily always for the better. In the process, one of Mr. Sasaki's friends kills himself and his wife, Sasaki is run over and injured, their oldest son joins the US military (I didn't know you could do that!), the wife has a brief tryst with a man who abducts her and the youngest becomes an almost instant musical prodigy (too instantly to be realistic, actually).

As I said above, none of this really is funny and is in many ways reminiscent of the film "American Pie". Mid-life crises abound in this one and they all seek new direction in life. I appreciated all this but prefer "American Pie" because it had a certain dark humor--whereas with the Sasaki family, it was mostly dark and miserable until near the end--when things improved a bit. Well made, thought-provoking and unpleasant.

By the way, I did have a few questions about what I saw in the film and I'd love to hear more about this if you can help. First, how common in Japan are unemployed men in business suits filling the parks or folks pretending they are not unemployed? The film made both seem rather common. Second, didn't the fathers seem awfully abusive in the film? Is this common or acceptable? I was rather shocked by this. Third, is it possible for ANYONE (a prodigy or not) to learn the piano THIS expertly after only about 7 months worth of lessons? Just wondering....