Teki Cometh

At the start of his career, Daihachi Yoshida used to be a certainty for me. Just about every film he made ended up a personal favorite. The past decade or so, he began to slip a little, but I do keep track of him, as there's always a core quality present in his work. Teki Cometh [Teki] is his latest venture, and it looks to be a return to form. It's an interesting little arthouse film, with just the right amount of quirk and genre influences, while keeping its more serious composure. I doubt the film will rustle many feathers outside of Japan, so be sure to catch it when you can.

Though I truly like most of Yoshida's films, I don't find it that easy to pinpoint his signature style. He's a director who operates on the edge of various film niches that don't often cross over. His work mostly deals with more serious themes, but never without adding in some lighter elements. Sometimes subtle, sometimes more in-your-face. And his films are never sloppy, unintentional, or quick filler, which is why I've kept up with him, even though it's been a while since he made a truly standout one. I trusted his talent and skill would result in more great films along the line, and Teki Cometh didn't disappoint.

Teki Cometh is a portrait of an old man who has lost most of his purpose in life. The only thing that remains are fragments of his former glory, and so he slowly loses the energy to keep on going. It's a rather pitiful and dire prospect for us middle-aged folk, but the film never gets too depressing. The subject is handled with the proper realism and humanity, though without ever undermining the drama and the validity of the main character's situation. It's a precarious balance, and not everyone will probably think it appropriate, but I found it spot on.

Gisuke is an elderly man who lives by himself. His wife died twenty years ago, but he copes. He was once a respected teacher of French literature, and he still receives requests for lectures and written articles. His life is mundane, but he keeps himself busy by seeking out old friends and staying in touch with his former students. Loneliness keeps creeping up on him, and his mind starts to wander more often. One day, he receives a strange email warning him that the enemy is coming. He ignores it, like the other spam he is used to getting, but the idea won't leave him.

Even in 2025, doing black-and-white cinematography is still the quickest, most surefire way to gain arthouse cred. It immediately attracts (or repels) the right crowds. Considering the subject matter (the colorless life of an elderly gentleman), it's appropriate, and it is executed with the proper flair and feel for contrast. It also benefits the night scenes and the more dreamy sequences, so Yoshida gets away with it, but it's still not the most original of choices. There's also some minor messing with the aspect ratio I don't understand, but what else is new?

The score is one of the most minimal I've heard in ages. The first three quarters are almost completely without any additional music, relying primarily on ambient sounds and Nagatsuya's distinctive voice to add a bit of extra atmosphere. The latter quarter does ramp things up, which greatly increases the impact of these particular moments. It's a fitting stylistic trick and Yoshida executes it well, though I think there was potential to do even more, as I had to double-check the score for this review. It's just my usual nitpicking, so keep that in mind.

Kyozo Nagatsuya was cast for the lead role, and he had his work cut out for him. He doesn't have the most exciting character, but the entire film rests on his shoulders. He does an excellent job, portraying a man who has given up but still has his pride. Nagatsuya sculpted a respectable but vulnerable persona that is perfect for this film. The rest of the cast is good too, with another notable role for Yumi Kawai (just watched her in Desert of Namibia last week) and a strong performance from Kumi Takiuchi, especially the scene where she confronts him about his fantasies. Excellent casting all round.

Teki Cometh is a relatively slow film. Looking back, it's still pretty eventful, but that is mostly due to the final quarter. Things start off lazily, with Gisuke going through his everyday life per usual. It isn't until the halfway mark that some things start to feel off, and minor genre elements are introduced. Just know that whatever excitement there is, it exists purely in comparison to the slower first half. Core genre fans don't need to bother with this one, it'll be too mundane and languid. Core arthouse fans, on the other hand, might be taken aback by the livelier finale.

It's tricky to predict how well this film will perform and what kind of audience it'll appeal to. It's unique for sure, and the film's broader qualities are easy to spot, but Yoshida made some less obvious choices that could easily alienate a larger portion of his audience. Me, I loved the stylish cinematography, the subtle score, and the way the core themes were handled by purposefully blending arthouse and genre elements. Yoshida never truly disappeared, but with Teki Cometh he proves that he still has it in him to create distinctive and memorable little masterpieces.