October 19, 2025

In an age where asserting our independence and individuality has become something of a personal liability, it’s refreshing to see that some of us have not lost sight of its value and – in the case of this picture – have even gone so far as to celebrate the notion in a work of art. Such is the case in writer-director Yûta Shimotsu’s second feature effort, a truly strange but fun, insightful meditation on the perils of unquestioned conformity. In a… read the rest.

In an age where asserting our independence and individuality has become something of a personal liability, it’s refreshing to see that some of us have not lost sight of its value and – in the case of this picture – have even gone so far as to celebrate the notion in a work of art. Such is the case in writer-director Yûta Shimotsu’s second feature effort, a truly strange but fun, insightful meditation on the perils of unquestioned conformity. In a nation like Japan, where a premium is placed on complying with cultural and social norms, those who seek to affirm their personal sovereignty are frequently looked upon with disdain and ostracism, perhaps backed with verbal or physical intimidation (including of a violent nature) and unbridled bullying (as seen in weaponized tools like social media). That’s the experience of Ai (Anna Yamada), a soft-spoken but self-aware high schooler whose peers spontaneously (and inexplicably) begin engaging in forming human pyramids. Their bizarre behavior is soon blessed by the school’s administration, activity that’s regarded as a hallmark of being a good, contributing member of society. But contributing of what? These nonsensical actions soon spread throughout Japanese society, with the powers that be enthusiastically encouraging participation in it. But, unlike those around her, Ai resists, not sure of its highly enigmatic purpose. She’s aided by one of her classmates, Yu (Yuzu Aoki), who understands the importance of being true to oneself, no matter how much pressure to conform is placed upon us, and is unafraid to question its unexplained purpose. The film thus metaphorically becomes a commentary on undisputed, willingly embraced group think, a lesson not just for residents of Japan, but for those in any society that tries to enforce behavioral compliance, no matter how ridiculous or illogical it might seem. The filmmaker masterfully accomplishes this goal with a smorgasbord of off-the-wall humor that grows progressively more sidesplitting as the story plays out, especially when once-well-adjusted individuals begin acting like machines or zombies. Admittedly, there’s a tendency for the film to meander somewhat initially and for it to become a little heavy-handed in delivering its message, but this offering is nevertheless a fitting, contemporary complement to such earlier absurdist works in this vein, such as the stage play (and 1973 movie version) of Eugène Ionescu’s Rhinoceros (1959). It also illustrates, through several sequences characterized by graphic (though not gratuitous) violence (sensitive viewers take note), the observation of author and metaphysician Caroline Myss, who has noted how individuals who try to assert themselves in the face of a fiercely determined collective will “often be shot on sight” simply for attempting to be themselves. Those are wise words in this day and age, and, thankfully, we have movies like “New Group” to reinforce and remind us of that sentiment when we need it most.

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