Release Date: March 10th, 2023
Duration: 127 mins.
Director: Yusaku Matsumoto
Writer: Yusaku Matsumoto, Kentaro Kishi (Screenplay), Junki Watanabe (Original Novel),
Starring: Masahiro Higashide, Takahiro Miura, Mitsuru Fukikoshi, Hidetaka Yoshioka, Mai Kiryu, Kiyohiko Shibukawa, Yo Yoshida,
Yusaku Matsumoto’s interest in youth-oriented issues finds a surprising outlet in Winny, a rather restrained legal drama that puts forward the thesis that the future of Japan’s software sector was set back by outdated and dishonest establishment figures stifling a software developer.
To be specific, he dramatises a real life court case which started in 2002 when a talented software developer named Isamu Kaneko created a peer-to-peer file-sharing application called Winny. This programme, complete with sophisticated encryption, was originally envisioned as a place for the free flow of ideas. It, however, became the software of choice for online piracy in Japan. Pirates were arrested but police and prosecutors decided to make an example of Kaneko and charged him for “intentionally encouraging piracy.”
At the start of the film, the initial question of the legal drama is whether the developer should be charged for crimes committed by others?
To clear his name, Kaneko and his solicitor Toshimitsu Dan engaged in nine-year long legal battle, funded by supporters on 2chan forums. As the film goes on, however, the complications of the courtroom conflict keep collecting and Kaenko’s plight goes beyond copyright legalities to grander themes of freedom of speech as the film picks up a subplot involving corrupt cops and slush funds and the question becomes one of why the police chased after Kaneko.
With a lot to work with, Winny could be overburdened but everything dovetails neatly into Kaneko’s case through simple visual delivery, streamlining the story to expounding on the theme of the establishment being outdated and rotten, and working with his cast to get lively performances that delivers expositionary dialogue in an enjoyable fashion.
Indeed, some viewers may never have heard of Winny and have little knowledge of the Japanese law and tech scene of the early 2ooos but the film is always comprehensible thanks to following Kaneko’s legal team getting up to speed with these details themselves. Questions from a legal secretary (Mai Kiryu, one of the film’s few women with speaking parts) allow for context to keep viewers oriented and aware of the stakes while the puzzlement older characters on the team have in comprehending computer software, foreshadows challenges showing Kaneko’s innocent intentions to the judiciary, the chief judge of whom is a man probably deliberately cast to be visibly older.
Of particular note is the work of Mitsuru Fukikoshi as legendary solicitor Masashi Akita, a man with a high win rate against the state. He has the air of an Obi Wan Kenobi, calmly offering wisdom to Dan and Kaneko before trials and setting up plot developments as he ferrets out problems and performs verbal jiu jitsu to punish deceitful detectives on the stand. Fukikoshi’s urbane look and smooth mannerisms, his sharp and perceptive eyes, they are the focus of the camera in the courtroom and serve to underline significant moments. They also allow for comedy as his wry humour is used to explain how to get people to expose their lies – treat them like you would a lover and make them say it out loud – in getting his less experienced team mates to be better trial solicitors. He works on a nudge, a wink, and other small expressions that break up the dry legalese.
All of this keeps the film critical of the Japanese justice system as the malfeasance theme is explored via Kaneko forced into false confessions by the the police and perfidious prosecutors engaging in media manipulation to smear his work but it wouldn’t matter a jot if viewers didn’t care about Kaneko and Dan in their legal battle and, thanks to the simplicity, it is easy to root for them.
Putting on a couple of pounds and a pair of glasses to play Kaneko and Dan are Masahiro Higashide and Takahiro Miura respectively. Miura is always resolute and unfussy and always reminding people that Kaneko’s treatment threatens Japanese software development as the film keeps up with its themes. Meanwhile, Higashide gets to be the emotional core of the film to make us care.
His character’s simplistic behaviour leads him to show a frustrating lack of awareness and self-preservation as Kaneko, coupled with an obsessive desire to programme. It is almost unbelievable as the case winds its way through courts but this simplicity is purposeful because it lends him the air of a tragic hero, one totally dedicated to programming and sharing his joy of computers with the world while not prepared to grapple with reality. A person subject to a fatalistic idealism that leaves him at the mercy of the state. This attitude runs counter to the establishment figures who cynically target him and it is hard not to be moved after seeing the way he shines with joy over programming, a huge grin plastered on his face.
Higashide does shine with humanity in two tear-jerking moments where, one from behind bars where he reads of his supporters and the other during a phone message for his sister. The camera holds on him as his voice catches and he has to gather himself from the edge of breaking down and crying as it finally looks like the reality of his situation is dawning on him. His performance earned him the Best Actor Award at the 33rd Japan Film Critics Awards and it is moving enough that it it feels well earned.
Archive footage at the end of the film shows that Higashide is almost a perfect match, albeit he sometimes overplays the skittishness.
Matsumoto’s direction of all this is unfussy. In contrast to Anshul Chauhan’s recent courtroom drama December where zooms and cutting to the rhythm of the back-and-forth between people dictated the flow, Winny‘s courtroom scenes are shot in a direct and steady way so as to help convey information to the audience which is perfect for nailing down the minutiae of language usage in a confession or the way that people don’t quite grasp programming. And just to bring it back to Kaneko, when asked to show software, it perfectly shows the gap between a genius programmer who rattles off facts and has fun demonstrating games and the regular people around him as he is centre screen, almost rolling around in his seat while others around sit stiff-backed, slightly cringing.
Indeed, the couple of moments of poetic images involve his love of astronomy as he gazes at the sky and the camera slips from the Earth and all of his troubles to visions of nebulae and the freedom he gets from his imagination. It conveys that Kaneko really has his head in the clouds as the free-thinker that he is and appeals to our sympathy.
As a whole, Winny demonstrates efficient writing in chunking down big issues that are easy to understand. Alongside the dramatic beats of courtroom victories and setbacks, the acting that easily appeals to our sympathies, what emerges from the intellectual arguments and the emotional connection to a hero who just wants to create and a feeling of indignation over his treatment. Thus the film succeeds in suggesting his treatment had implications for Japan’s future digital innovators and tech development as we watch a genius creator dragged through the system and understand the tools the state used against him and tumultuous feelings he experienced.
Winny will be available to stream from indie movie site SAKKA from November 07th. The SAKKA release will include an exclusive director’s commentary.