An introvert film has won Locarno’s Golden Leopard after spending its running time proving that being alone together is preferable to wearing a festival lanyard near strangers.
Miyake Sho’s Two Seasons, Two Strangers follows Li, a Korean screenwriter living in Japan, whose creative process consists largely of staring into space until an idea arrives and sits down without introducing itself.
The film then enters the story Li is writing, drawing on two otherwise unconnected works by manga artist Yoshiharu Tsuge. A young woman meets a solitary local in a coastal town, where the pair discover that conversation can exist without either participant checking whether there is an exit nearby.
Hollywood’s imaginary development department has proposed adding a car chase, but the idea collapsed when someone noticed that the characters might have to answer an unknown number.
“This is enormous recognition,” whispered Tabitha, Director of Optional Mingling. “Please celebrate individually, face approximately the same direction and avoid forming a spontaneous group.”
The film finds drama in writing, solitude and tentative connection. This presents a direct challenge to an entertainment industry that turns every pause into a franchise and every glance into an origin story requiring three films and a downloadable explanation.
The story within the film follows strangers who walk, talk and arrange to meet again. They do not immediately kiss, launch a podcast or announce a limited series about the experience. Their connection survives perfectly well without a marketing strategy, which will come as a shock to anyone who has ever been asked to turn a feeling into a brand.
The Golden Leopard is now travelling with the film, presumably in a case marked Please Leave At Door. The festival has invited the winners to a networking reception, but the trophy has declined to attend, citing an urgent commitment to being admired privately. It has finally found the one award ceremony with no acceptance speech, because even the prize understands that the only thing worse than winning is having to explain how it feels.
Real story: BFI Sight and Sound.
