Director Carlos Reygadas doesn’t have a very simple explanation for why he entitled his feature film debut Japón, given that the film is set in Mexico and populated by 
Mexican characters who do not do or say anything remotely Asian. Reygadas claims that the title captures the film’s tone, revealing his own broad conception of Japanese culture and lifestyle. That is a defendable position, and yet I suspect that the choice also reveals the pretensions of a young, talented, and energetic director who wanted to enhance the sense of mystery associated with his film. That’s okay, too, given the fact that Reygadas puts his money where his mouth is, crafting a bold, complex, yet sensitive portrait of two ordinary people.
Alejandro Ferretis plays the central character, an unnamed man who travels to the remote, mountainous village of his birth with the intention of committing suicide. When he arrives and seeks a place to sleep, the village leader suggests that he find lodging in the barn of an elderly spinster (Magdalena Flores) who lives on the outskirts of the community. The woman’s name is Ascencion (the villagers call her “Ascen”), and she is deeply religious in the traditional, superstitious, Catholic sense of the word. As in Reygadas’ subsequent two films, Japón requires a level of patience. The characters reveal themselves slowly and deliberately, with little exposition of their pasts. We wonder, in vain, what series of horrors or disappointments has led this man to this desperate place. But as the seemingly mundane daily actions of these two characters pass us, something both subtle and profound is taking place.
The man eventually requests something of Ascen which on the one hand reflects the most base aspects of his humanity and yet reveals itself to be the defining, transcendent moment by which their relationship becomes something else. Is it exploitation, selfless sacrifice, or a reflection of the most unlikely love? As is the case with the film’s title, viewers are likely to have mixed reactions to the Christ-like allegory that remains barely beneath the surface until the final sequence. And while Reygadas walks a tightrope between a natural gift for observation and a strained sense of importance, the film is so beautiful from start to finish that any misstep will surely be forgiven.
Here are this morning’s Oscar-nominated films, alphabetically. The nominees for foreign language film and documentary feature are compiled at the end of the list. (Short format nominees are listed in a 
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