by SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD
In Shoplifters, the Japanese director Hirokazu Kore-eda provides a social work audience with echoes of the heartbreak we face with our clients day in and day out: the toll of poverty, hopelessness, with lack of empathy from so many; the suffering and vulnerability of children and their deep longing for love; the inhumanity of a dense inner city existence; bureaucratic arrogance and callousness. He also points to the frightening underbelly of human existence when nothing is as it first seems (or how people portray it); how lack of control over both events and personal instincts plays a major role in each life; the ultimate cost of dark secrets; the power of love; and how even in the tiniest slivers, love can make endurance possible.
In this film, gentle and understated, yet throbbing with intensity, Hirokazu Kore-eda examines what constitutes a family: Does family consist only of blood relatives? What emotions and choices offer sustenance? What counteracts hope and a feeling of belonging? What role does manipulation, betrayal, and cruelty play? What is the impact of inconsistencies and contradictions? In this complex focus, viewer emotions are in constant flux as a dark mystery slowly unfolds, bringing its painful truths. What you see initially in Shoplifters is surely not what you get! All of the Shibata family members have unsettling, disturbing components to their lives, having an impact on others.
(Please note: the following introductions of family members and some of their activities is for framing only. I will not reveal the film’s intricate, unfolding, startling development.)
In the initial moments of Shoplifters, we are introduced to a unifying Shibata family business - father and son steal food and household necessities, using quirky hand motions to coordinate and signal proper timing for the grab and hide. At first glance, they seem to steal only to care for basic human needs of their family, which seems to include a middle-aged husband and wife, Osamu (Lily Franky) and Noboya (Sakura Ando); their son Shota (Kairi Jyo); a daughter (or perhaps Osamu’s younger sister), Aki (Mayu Matsuoka); and a grandmother, Hatsue (Kirin Kiki, the beloved character actor in her final film before death).
All live together in a tiny apartment rented by Aki from a corrupt landlord. Yet, despite little room to move, the family knows warmth, shared wisdom, joy, appreciation, and mutual support. A family trip to the beach later in the film, offering sunlight, beauty, and freedom, is experienced as a blessing to behold, on screen and off.
Osamu works on a construction site, but this is short lived when he is in an accident. The bulk of his money comes from selling the fruits of his daily illegal pursuits. Noboya’s employment is in a hotel laundry, where she regularly steals items from pockets of clothing. Aki works in a city peepshow, offering soft porn as she longs for connection and trust. Hatsu contributes to the family survival with her small pension. Although her grandmotherly caring and common sense offer delight, her skills in manipulation are just as finely developed.
Walking home on a bitterly cold winter evening following a successful stealing outing, Osamu and Shota enjoy each other’s company as they snack. En route, they see Yuri, a sweet, delicate little girl, obviously sparsely fed, whom they regularly see locked out of her apartment, as her parents argue violently. They offer Yuri some of their food and take her home, causing initial discord among other family members, until they see signs of physical abuse, witness further parental rage, and decide not to return her. Weeks later, after Yuri is finally reported missing by her abusive, rejecting parents, the family she is growing to love and need cut her hair, shoplift new clothes for her, and give her a new name, Lin. They also introduce her to their shoplifting rituals.
I have watched Shoplifters three times. This was necessary, as my mind continually raced to examples of its profound truths in my life and in the lives of others. Because of this, I kept missing vital scenes as the contradictions of the layered plot unfolded in shocking dimension.
Although I am only offering an outline of Shoplifters, I want to emphasize one essential scene that I missed the first time I saw the film: Shota is initially rejecting of Yuri (Lin), fearing she will deprive him of family attention - but in time, he grows to cherish the little girl. In a store together, their attempts to steal are thwarted by a kind shopkeeper, who gives them candy, with guiding advice to Shota not to train his sister to be a thief. His words contradict Osamu’s rationalizations: They are not stealing if what they take is not someone else’s property or the store does not go bankrupt. Nor are they kidnapping a child if no ransom is requested.
The film highlights that each human being has the potential to love well, as well as unleash ugliness and destructiveness, and their combination. What you will learn about each member of the family Shibata in Shoplifters will move you, stun you, and break your heart. This is not a film to turn to for diversion or escape. Watching its truths unfold will cause you to gasp. The characters will continue to live with you. They can never be forgotten. The enormity of all they teach, now and upon reflection, is incalculable.
SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD, whose private and pro bono clinical social work practice is in Philadelphia, is a certified group psychotherapist and family life educator. She is a recipient of a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Pennsylvania chapter of NASW, and the 2013 NASW Media Award for Best Article. SaraKay is the author of Whoever Said Life Is Fair, Setting YourSelf Free, and Burnout and Self-Care in Social Work. Her writing has been published in peer-reviewed journals, newspapers, and blogs. SaraKay's professional life continues to be devoted to highlighting destructive societal forces through communication, advocacy, and activism. Read more about her work at SaraKaySmullens.com.