The low-tech sci-fi film Plan 75 posits a near future where, after a spate of hate crimes against the elderly, Japan offers its citizens a drastic way to deal with its rapidly ageing population. The plan of the title is a bureaucratic support system for people aged 75 and over who volunteer to be euthanised painlessly. In return, the state gives them ¥100,000 (roughly $740) to spend as they wish — be that on a luxurious last meal or, for the more practically minded, on funeral arrangements. Some may choose to be cremated and interred with friends or family, partly because it’s cheaper and partly because some believe it will be “less lonely”.
It’s a concept not unlike the one seen in cheesy 1973 future-shock classic Soylent Green, but without Charlton Heston shouting hysterically about what happens to all the dead bodies. Indeed, this is a quiet, respectful study of what a programme like this could mean for a range of different people, from lonely, forcibly retired, prospective user Michi (veteran actor Chieko Baisho giving a heartbreaker of a performance) to the bureaucrats who handle admissions and client services such as Hiromu (Hayato Isomura) and Yôko (Yumi Kawai).
The smooth pragmatism of Plan 75 suddenly seems less easy to shill when, in Hiromu’s case, his own aged uncle walks into his centre one day. Yôko, meanwhile, grows close to Michi while listening to her life story via phone calls, part of the therapeutic pre-death process that the plan includes. Finally, there is Maria (Stefanie Arianne), a Filipina immigrant who works behind the scenes sorting through the possessions left behind and trying to raise money for her sick child back home.
Writer-director Chie Hayakawa’s multi-stranded drama started out as one segment in an anthology film, Ten Years Japan, which imagined what the country might look like a decade into the future. It’s not hard to see why she wanted to develop the material further given that the basic conceit is so fertile, and perhaps more plausible than most sci-fi imaginings. Her direction is stately and considered, allowing space to savour little details along the way such as how Michi holds her hand up to the light, or how Maria sings in church. Composer Rémi Boubal’s string-led score offers a soothing balm without ever becoming saccharine, helping the film to achieve a kind of hushed transcendence.
★★★★☆
In UK cinemas from May 12
