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Waterboys
Directed by Shinobu Yaguchi
Starring: Satoshi Tsumabuki, Hiroshi Tamaki, Akifumi Miura, Koen Kondo
Running Time: 1:30
Country: Japan
Year: 2001
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Waterboys is a feel-good film from Japan that made me feel foolish for watching. Yet, as awkwardly trite and light as it was, it still possessed such a spirit of well-meaning that I gave the film its due and did not walk out (as some viewers did). Briefly, the movie does a good job of entertaining those of us who are either 12 to 14 years of age or have not seen many movies. It's been playing the film festival circuit in the U.S., but it's more like an "extra-special" after-school-special (those TV movies made for kids to zone out with when they get home from school) than your typical film festival fare, which is usually adult-oriented work. Maybe that's changing; maybe film festivals are dumbing down (like the rest of us?).
The simple story is about a bunch of nerdy high school boys who don't fit in with the rest of the school and decide against all odds (one boy doesn't even know how to swim) to become a synchronized swim team. Why "extra-special" after-school-special? The "extra" gimmick is the film's mild homoerotic references: one team member has had a crush on another team member (Suzuki, our main character) for years. The lovesick boy also happens to be hypersensitive, cries easily (we'd label him a "crybaby" in this country), is very pretty, with longish hair which he wears in a flip. The homosexuality is safely neutralized by an opposing stereotype, that of the puppy love between Suzuki (Satoshi Tsumabuki) and a student from a nearby girls' school (albeit a very tough young girl who tends to punch people out by way of expressing her feelings).
A long sequence in the movie takes place at a Sea World theme park, where the boys trade manual labor (cleaning the glass walls of the tanks, for instance) for synchronized swim instruction from the eccentric dolphin trainer (Takenaka Naoto). Here is where a deeper theme comes in: the ability to be "in synch" is a byproduct of some sort of work ethic. The dolphin trainer actually knows nothing about teaching; he's simply using the boypower to get work done around the place, and he's the first person surprised by their amazing accomplishment as they become better and better at synchronized swimming.
The action progresses within the usual structure of this kind of film. The team fights among themselves only to bond together in face of adversity; they overcome all sorts of miserable obstacles (for instance, their pool is filled with hundreds of fish so that the real swim team can practice their angling). Did I mention that one of their number doesn't know how to swim? And so on. Finally, the boys overcome all and succeed in learning synchronized swimming; the TV news does a feature on their "story"; and this publicity converts the arch-enemy traditional swim team members who join up with the now "cool" synchronized swim team. The movie climaxes with an exuberant performance in the Olympic-sized girls school pool, with the expanded boys team dancing, swimming and obviously having a wonderful time, along with the cheering audience.
So, persistence works. But we don't really see how. I certainly didn't buy it. To be convincing, there has to be some way that you can imagine such success could really happen. But here, though these boys do overcome each individual obstacle, we still wonder (if we take the time to do so), how did they learn synchronized swimming? There was no one teaching them. This is an Olympic sport (yes, one many enjoy laughing at, but still…). Doesn't it require some sort of land-based person who watches what is happening and gives feedback? We're to believe that getting in synch is just a matter of stick-with-it. I would like to know how this sport is actually learned. Here, slapstick and broad-stroked humor apparently are supposed to wipe out the need for any reality.
For those unbothered by such shortcomings, and unconcerned by the clichés and clunkiness of the action, this movie may be diverting enough to be worth your time. Or, if you're patient and can sit through the first half, when the action moves to Sea World there's some stunning photography of dolphins doing what dolphins do, effortlessly and synchronously. We don't wonder how the dolphins got that way. We already know: they're dolphins. Midway through the film we see Suzuki watching these animals propelling themselves high out of the water, and he's moved by the sight, just as we are. Suzuki wants to become like a dolphin. I just want to know how and why.
Carol Saturansky
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Waterboys review
