“Took too long to see, I was wrong to believe in me only.” – Wilco (“Solitaire”)

I became a big fan of Bong Joon-ho’s work after watching Mother. In a week, I watched three more of his films: The Host, Memories of Murder and his short film Shaking Tokyo.

Shaking Tokyo, part of a three-part collection of short films in Tokyo! (2008), sweeps like sunlight across the room. The film follows the story of an unnamed loner (Teruyuki Kagawa). He is what is known as a hikikomori (shut-in) in Japanese – someone who avoids all contact with the outside world.

“Those who are sensitive would have noticed, but my own way of tidying up, practiced for 10 years has now reached the level of art.”

Neat stacks of pizza boxes, dog-eared books and magazines and rolls of toilet paper fill every space in his apartment – a seemingly “perfect” place according to the hikikomori. Ironically, no one else sees it.

It’s funny how the creation of art, in most cases, ties to the idea of seclusion. You hear of poets who lock themselves up in towers or intellectuals who retire from the city – its chaos and clutter – for Eden-like groves. Most writers follow a routine and have a quiet corner that’s ideal for thought creation, but it sure can get lonely sometimes. Am I conscious all the time when I write? Sometimes, I’m not entirely sure.

Do we shape cities or do cities shape us? By avoiding a society where occupational labels form one’s identity and meaning, Bong’s protagonist escapes failure and modernity’s cruel judgment. But the world is inescapable: being born in it forces one to also actively participate in it – a simple, unseen game the universe plays.

Shaking Tokyo opens the door, pulling stubbornness and pride aside, for possibilities just as the hikikomori’s first eye contact in over a decade awakens him. The protagonist falls in love – a metaphysical term Bong literalizes with the tremors that shake the city of Tokyo, which ultimately draw the hikikomori out of his house in search of love, consciousness and freedom.