‘Asura’ REVIEW: When Grace Outlives Affairs and Insecurities
‘Asura’ REVIEW: When Grace Outlives Affairs and Insecurities
From left to right: Takiko (Yu Aoi), Makiko (Machiko Ono), Tsunako (Rie Miyazawa), and Sakiko (Suzu Hirose) sitting outside of the Takezawa house / Still taken from Netflix
With powerful performances from a star-studded cast, Hirokazu Kore-eda’s second Netflix series, ‘Asura,’ crafts his most chaotic family dynamic yet. Overflowing with flaws and tangled in affairs that eventually find their much-needed grace.
Are affairs "more" acceptable when there’s no child involved?
This head-turning question is just one of many overlapping threads that Palme d’Or-winning auteur Hirokazu Kore-eda seeks to untangle in his second Netflix series, Asura. His enduring fascination with stories centered on family dynamics and their often underestimated effects has regularly garnered praise worldwide, making such subjects of infidelity well within his familiar territory and perfectly aligned with his empathetic, gentle style of filmmaking. It’s no surprise, then, that this series begins the year with as much strength as its messaging, which discourages undisputed condemnation — even against the countless troubles of precarious affairs and its consequences on households. And to put the cherry on top, this might be his most chaotic family yet.
Coming back to television from his 2023 Netflix debut The Makanai: Cooking for the Maiko House, Asura is a seven-episode series adapted from the novel of the same title by Mukoda Kuniko, with all episodes written and directed by Kore-eda. While bearing similarities to his 2015 film Our Little Sister, the story in Asura takes a distinct approach, told through the perspectives of four sisters — Makiko (Machiko Ono), Sakiko (Suzu Hirose), Takiko (Yu Aoi), and Tsunako (Rie Miyazawa) — as they try to conceal their father's (Jun Kunimura) infidelity from their mother (Keiko Matsuzuka), all while facing their own personal struggles with their partners. However, his stench is not the only one hovering in the house.
As I've watched all of his sixteen films and two shows in their entirety as a loudly outspoken fan, I believe it's important to impart that Mukoda is one of the director's cited inspirations for writing screenplays, particularly due to the naturalistic nuances of her back-and-forth dialogues. I feel that, at the height of his career, it is truly remarkable to witness him attempt to adapt his master's work, as the passion can be felt throughout the script of the series. Asura's characters are wonderfully written, to the level that even my most personal projections are not only validated on screen but also given insight born out of confrontational openness, not judgment.
Legendary Japanese actress Rie Miyazawa as Tsunako / Still taken from Netflix
With a timeworn aesthetic and warm-toned visuals that captures the nostalgia of ‘70s Tokyo, Kore-eda reunited with his cinematographer from 2013's Like Father, Like Son, Mikiya Takimoto, to infuse Asura with spot-on shot compositions and sweeping curiosity, finding wonder in the ordinary and discovering family secrets along the way. Beyond the stunningly captured details of living rooms and streets, much of the film focuses on the four sisters, whose conversations take center stage and oddly feel like being at home on weekends.
Their talks fling in and out of radar — some random blabber and others small yet major nods to their flaws, denials and frustrations. Makiko intently robs herself the ability to act on what lies beyond the convenient seat where she always waits for her husband, who trivializes cheating and constantly rationalizes the man's position in the family. And by that same token, rationalization is clearly Takiko's strong suit. She is the most inflexible of the sisters, so it's not news that she's the one who discovered her father's secret. Takiko even hired a discreet investigator, Mr. Katsumata, who then becomes wrapped up in an unlikely connection with her.
Sakiko and Tsunako, meanwhile, find themselves embroiled in relationships that are deeply unhealthy yet they fight for them — the former with a highly motivated yet erratic boxer boyfriend, and the latter with another woman’s conniving husband who is funnily her boss. Despite the numerous compensatory behaviors, fragile egos and toxic inclinations of the male characters, the four sisters are not entirely faultless.
From ingrained insecurities to the manifestations of their hypocrisies, they have their own stories to tell. And these legendary actresses deliver top-notch and moving performances that competently carry the thematic weight of what the series dares to explore. And not only that, they can make you laugh with just their silly rambles.
This is where Kore-eda's direction shines: it never universally moralizes or condemns its characters, who, at the end of the day, are not blank slates but individuals shaped by their personal struggles, flaws, and inner turmoil. Not everything is to be proud of, just as not everyone is. But no effort to try goes to waste.
The Takezawa household / Still taken from Netflix
It's admirable that Asura chooses to engage with human flaws not as brisk plot devices, but as organic traits of its characters. The circumstances they find themselves in are neither overly dramatized nor forced into cornered appraisals, but instead are approached with tenderness that seeks to understand and not opt for easy moral classifications. The series also doesn't shy away from finding humor in the oddest of places. In one scene, we experience a life-changing revelation; in the next, a false tooth suddenly falls out. All these elements converge to endow the story with a contagious and convincing humanism and three-dimensional depth that you can't easily find elsewhere.
With Asura, Hirokazu Kore-eda not only sharpens his mastery as a subtle and humanist filmmaker — a value-driven talent he has demonstrated over the years, both within and outside film circuits — but also brings it to a wider audience through Netflix at the expense of being severely under promoted. While the platform persistently promises meaningful, high quality work, it commonly falls short of delivering on that promise. Asura, however, stands as a rare exception that is so largely rewarding that paying a subscription just to watch it doesn't feel like a devious infidelity.
Asura is now streaming on Netflix.
