Masaharu Fukuyama did not receive an Oscar nomination for portraying Ryōta Nonomiya in Like Father, Like Son.
Like Father, Like Son is a terrific film that follows a wealthy couple as they learn that their son was switched at birth, and must contemplate switching him with their biological son.
Masaharu Fukuyama has a very difficult role here as it is not nearly as
straight forward as one might expect just from the brief
synopsis I provided above. This is as the film itself takes a very naturalistic
approach to the story, despite the potentially melodramatic central element.
The film takes a very calm and very honest approach, that is evident right
within Fukuyama's performance as a Ryōta. This is as we see him interact with
his wife and apparent son as they live their life. Ryōta spending much of his
time working, in fact far more time than with his wife and son. I love that
Fukuyama portrays this without stereotype within the idea of such a man, though
while wholly fulfilling the reality of such a man. In that we see him in his
life and there is not an excessive unhappiness. Instead Fukuyama portrays a
contentment within Ryōta's life, not a fulfilling contentment perhaps, but there
is no sense of loss or desperation within this. Fukuyama rather portrays a man
just naturally living his life, which for him means spending very little time
with his actual family. Fukuyama is effective though by doing so in such a
believable way by also accentuating a natural decency within the man, by simply
never turning this into a one-dimensional caricature of the stern
businessman.
Fukuyama is great in that he realizes so naturally what should seem like
artifice, however Fukuyama finds the truth of the matter given that the man's
experience has crafted him in this traditional expectation. This is as his
physical performance, and general manner carries the weight of expectation so
well. He doesn't overplay but finds the right authentic stilted quality in the
man caused by this overt formality as required to be a proper man that has been
gilded within him. Again, Fukuyama still shows the general sense of an
affection with his wife and son, though always with a certain level of
disconnectedness. This is as his eyes often drift as though he is looking
elsewhere and seems tethered to some other requirement of life. Fukuyama is
terrific in the way he shows a certain type of coldness that isn't intense, but
still notable. Fukuyama portrays well as this assumed burden int he way the man
so carefully speaks his emotions and always presents his strongest drive within
his professionalism as opposed to his family. Fukuyama does a fantastic job of
finding such a humanity within essentially the realization of a man. Fukuyama
does not bring us some standard stiff Japanese businessman, but rather shows us
a real man, who happens to technically be a stiff Japanese
businessman.
Things must change a bit though when Ryōta is faced with a different reality
for himself and his wife Midori (Machiko Onon), when they discover their son is
technically not their own. In fact, their son technically belongs to the people
who have been raising their biological son. The couple being a rather affable
and outgoing pair named the Saiki family (the apparently always delightful Lily
Franky and Yoko Maki). Fukuyama is essential in a fascinating way in these
series of scenes where the couples meet, try to come with a solution, and deal
with the strangeness of the situation. This is as Fukuyama's work, though
certainly the central focus, is often of the observer. This falls right in the
man's life where family has come second, and now he is forced a bit more
interaction. Fukuyama is marvelous in creating certainly the sense of
discomfort in these moments particularly as he sees the contrast in his
parenting style to the far more engaged Saiki's. Fukuyama is amazing though as
in his subtle glances he is able to convey an uncertainty in observation, of a
man trying to determine his own thoughts, both as this state of being critical
towards what he is seeing while also being unable to processes it within
himself. Fukuyama creates this essential conflict within the man that so
importantly defines Ryōta's journey.
Fukuyama again is great at portraying the complexity of the situation within
the mind of Ryōta as it is not this simple thing. As there are these moments of
this unease alluding to a discomfort within his own distance. These then though
are followed by statements of cruelty such as when he criticizes his "adopted"
son's lack of ambition or suggests, by virtue of his financial circumstances,
that he takes all of the Saiki children. Fukuyama's delivery of these moments
is great as he makes them feel so honest, even as he does not portray Ryōta as
some evil man. Fukuyama though finds so effectively this formality in this
delivery of a moment as it represents a man who has learned a certain
expectation. This being a certain expectation of success as painted even in
parenthood, which is more financially oriented that emotionally
so. Fukuyama again makes this a natural reaction within the learned state
of the man. Fukuyama making this almost required. This is supplemented though
through the real humanity, so quietly portrayed, minimally but not mute, as the
man contemplates this situation. This in seeing the loving family but also
dealing with the cruelty that they learn had been purposefully inflicted upon
them by a nurse. Fukuyama shows that at every point it is not a hollow thought
within the man, as his eyes show the real concerns within Ryōta even as he is
unsure if to express them.
Ryōta coldly chooses to switch children. This of course goes as well as to
be expected as their son, accustomed to the ever-present father, reacts poorly
to Ryōta's parenting style. Fukuyama's performance though is excellent in these
moments as he is able to express the difficulty of the situation, that we see
him attempt to apply his business approach, though this falls away by the boy's
reactions. Fukuyama's small concession are made so authentic by making the fall
of the business this reversion to that humanity that has never been absent, yet
only hesitated to express. Fukuyama in these moments still shows this to be
quiet, yet the small loss of the more reserved attitude brings such a
power to it as the man tries to provide a more open affection. This is only a
small realization though as he comes across more directly his failings towards
the son he raised, first in visual proof via pictures the boy took of his
"father", always sleeping. Fukuyama is heartbreaking in his reaction
that is so expressive. It is an anguish that is defined by the real affection
he did have for his son that he failed to show when he had him. This is
followed by when the families reunite again though Ryōta's raised son runs from
him. Fukuyama is outstanding in the scene of talking his son back to him. This
is as he so powerfully loses any of that professional distance. He doesn't
overplay it, as his words are still quiet, yet the love is expressed so deeply
in his eyes and still within his voice as he now directly speaks to his son
like a father should. I loved this performance as Fukuyama offers such an
atypical journey. This is as this character typically would be a villain, and
the film would probably be about Lily Franky's character. We are granted a
different perspective though and through that Fukuyama offers a most poignant
and human portrait of a man coming to terms with his life and family.
