Tribeca Review: The Keeper of the Camphor Tree is as gorgeous and sprawling as the tree at its center

The massive tree at the center of (and in the title of) The Keeper of the Camphor Tree serves as a fitting symbol of the movie that surrounds it. Adapted from Keigo Higashino's novel, this film is sprawling and gorgeous, and its story has many branches that sometimes intersect in surprising ways. It covers so much ground, and has a gravity to it that pulled me in and left me weeping. It's a powerful tale, and beautifully rendered.

The eponymous keeper is Reito, a young man whose life is a mess. He was recently unfairly fired from a job that also provided his housing, and in a bid to get revenge, he ends up behind bars. Without family to rely on, a job to go back to, things don't look so good for him. Until a mysterious man shows up offering to bail him out on behalf of a wealthy aunt Reito doesn't know, one who has a new assignment for him: to serve as the manager/caretaker of the Camphor Tree.

This tree is a sort of shrine/religious site, one that's often swarming with visitors during the day, wanting to investigate and get photos. At night, things are quieter, more serious, more focused. One person at a time can go up to the tree, enter its indentation, and offer up their prayers and wishes. Exactly how the tree works is -- for most of the film -- a mystery, and Reito wants to know more. Especially as he begins to know some of the regulars, including Soki, the son of his former company's comatose president, and the father of a beguiling young woman named Yumi.

The film almost feels like it could've been broken up into a series, with how many characters and plot threads there are. In addition to the two stories mentioned above, there's also the general sweep of Reito getting his act together/resisting reconnecting with old coworkers who are a bad influence/becoming a detail-oriented caretaker. Then, there's the family drama. Reito's aunt, Chifune, is a powerful woman, and one who is seemingly being forced out of the family business; Reito is her protege and the only one in her corner. A lot of the film's most emotionally resonant scenes are those that unfold between Reito and his aunt, seeing them size each other up, open up to each other, and forge a strong family bond.

At nearly two hours long, this movies covers a lot of ground, and having so many narrative plates spinning really does it a lot of favors. It skips nimbly between its characters and plot threads, providing a nice sense of momentum. There are some nice little mysteries afoot here: why does Soki feel like he's wasting his time when he prays? What is Yuki's father up to -- is he having an affair? Why do some people always come to pray on the night of the New Moon, while others favor the night of the Full Moon? And why is Chifune always taking so many notes in her notebook, which never leads her side?

I found all of these threads and mysteries compelling, propulsive, and touching. The film interrogates what it means to be a family, and what it looks like to hold onto and honor those connections. Its characters are animated by curiosity, empathy, and a desire to connect with their loved ones and their communities. And the eventual reveal of how the Camphor Tree's prayer mechanism works is well-earned, narratively satisfying, and thematically revelatory, underlining the importance of listening to those who came before, and doing what we can for future generations. 

The Keeper of the Camphor Tree is, for the most part, quite straight-on visually. It's a nice-looking movie with great character designs (Reito is cute, which is always a plus), and it takes a couple big aesthetic swings later on, especially during the emotional climax, where things get fantastical, dreamy, drenched in blue. That sequence made me swoon.

The weirdest misstep, and one I think has to be mentioned, is one of the needle drops. At a particularly tense narrative crossroads where Reito is weighing what to do/where to go next, there is a bizarre musical choice of an extremely abrasive rap song that completely undermines the emotional weight of the moment, and feels like it goes on forever. In a movie that is so deft in its emotional storytelling, it was a glaring and strange choice.

Beyond that song, though, I was enraptured by The Keeper of the Camphor Tree. I loved discovering the little world that extends out from the tree, the lives these characters lead, the mysteries they unravel, the connections they make. It's a beautiful and generous bit of storytelling, and one of my favorite movies of the year so far.

The Keeper of the Camphor Tree makes its North American premiere at Tribeca on June 5. You can find more information and links for tickets here.