The Aesthetics of Nostalgia in All About Lily Chou-Chou
Content Creator Goh Cheng Hao ruminates on Shunji Iwai’s 2001 cult-favourite film, All About Lily Chou-Chou, through the lens of the present fixation on the Y2K subculture.
At a glance, Shunji Iwai’s experimental coming-of-age film, All About Lily Chou-Chou (2001) has become sort of the poster child (amongst others) of a very specific online sub-genre curated from the paraphernalia and media of the early 2000s. A combination of interests that culminate in a kind of cultural “esoterism”, where cultural iconographies are melded together in an eclectic yet still coherent aesthetic. Off the top of my head: Bjork, camcorders, Angel Blue, Walkmans, Trainspotting, Aphex Twin, CDs, W<, Domo, headphones, Yoshitomo Nara, and so on.
These curated aesthetics pander a lot to nostalgia, specifically surrounding analog technology and dated brands, which is interesting since many of the patrons of this aesthetic in today’s day and age (Gen Z) definitely did not experience or live through the eras (80s-early 00s) where these cultures were prolific. This adopted nostalgia (anemoia) is perhaps more of a romanticisation of the past rather than a recollection; by picking out the cool bits, the past is idealised and aestheticised.
However, there’s an undeniable charm in these aesthetics – they are not so obscure as they are retro, they are niche yet somewhat accessible. A lot of that charm lends itself to its obscurity, a novelty that resists and diverges from conventional popular culture, as a sort of identity marker we are able to adopt and assume as a form of cultural uniqueness. The more obscure your interests, the cooler you seem (or pretentious, you decide).
Linking back to the film, its rediscovery and subsequent cultural impact (“coolness”) is quite ironic then, for its central message unquestionably forewarns against the romanticising of youth. It was as if Iwai had the foresight of the current commodification and idealisation of nostalgia, where on surface level, All About Lily Chou-Chou’s formalistic qualities seem to be a tribute to these aesthetics. Breathtakingly shot with a digital handheld camera (advanced then, retro now), the film’s characters are stylistically overexposed in glaringly harsh light, doused in Wong Kar Wai-esque acid-green lighting, or filmed in home-video-like shakiness. Many iconic images of CD players, keychains, Ocean Pacific, bikes, etc., are also displayed throughout the film, soundtracked by the dreamy, romantic compositions of Debussy. Along with its “aesthetic” (how it would be described in “Tumblr-speak”) shots and scenes, the film seems to play into the trends and sensibilities of our contemporary internet culture with a certain prescience.
On the contrary, the film’s narrative instead contrasts these nostalgic scenes, standing as an image of teenage weariness. Without spoiling anything, the film embodies irrational violence and the anxieties of loneliness, as well as undertones of fatalism. Rather than a certain liberation or maturation from teenage angst, the film is paralyzingly despairing, with its characters stuck in perpetual cycles of oppression where their only response seems to be either silence or self-annihilation, their only escape the Internet and “the Ether”. The characters are passive, nauseatingly inactive against their oppressors, but curiously the retribution at the end of the movie does not provide any sort of catharsis. Compared to its more optimistic successors: The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012), Ladybird (2017), etc. (many of which are also steeped in privilege), it stands as a truer, more frank (and depressing) depiction of the coming-of-age.
Additionally, while the titular Lily Chou-Chou (inspired by the gorgeous Faye Wong’s similar hold over her Japanese fans at the time) seems to connect and unite the film’s characters through her music and her fansites, they remain markedly disconnected, polarisingly separate, as victims and aggressors, and as anonymous strangers.
Despite the film’s themes of isolation in the era of the internet, as well as its antithetical approach to romanticising youth, I think it is interesting to see its role in contributing/establishing a community online, where it clearly has not been saved from aestheticisation. Its iconic scene of Yuichi and Hoshino standing in vast fields of grass is constantly replicated on Tiktok as a sort of claim to its culture, and the film’s OST (especially グライド, Glide) is used as the audio for countless photo dumps. It is these posts from where I first learnt about the film, as well as later from a Mitski cover. Furthermore, Lilyholic, Lily’s fansite in the film, which was used as a sort of transmedia platform, despite mostly being unusable due to the fall of Adobe Flash Player (another victim to the chaos of technological advancement), its BBS (bulletin board system) still continues to be used to this day by avid fans of the film, as like a “XXX was here”.
Perhaps then it shows that the film’s message has been neglected in favour of visual aesthetics or for claims to culture – or to lend its patrons some credit, perhaps it has been appropriated: perhaps people are more self-aware of the inherent detachment of these online communities, using it as a light-hearted platform to relate with, where the Internet’s seemingly self-defeating nature can ultimately still draw people together in some way or another.
All about lily chou-chou (2001) was screened during asian film archive's programme titled y2k dreamz in september, which "explores films from around and about the year 2000, and seeks to examine the anxieties, hopes and fears prevalent within Asian cinema during the turn of the new millennium".