Film Review: Blank 13 (2017) – The Wounds, Forgiveness, and the Silence That Remains

 

Blank 13 | 2017 | 1h 10m
Genre: Drama/Family | Country: Japan
Director: Takumi Saitô | Writers: Kôji Hashimoto, Mitsutoshi Saijô
Cast: Issey Takahashi, Mayu Matsuoka, Takumi Saito
IMDB: 6.4
My Rate: 7/10

Koji has to arrange the funeral of his father, who suddenly reappears after 13 years of vanishing and abandoning them. Confusion fills his heart, along with questions that still have no answers.

Warning:

Strong language and smoking scenes

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Synopsis:

Koji, his older brother, and their mother are forced to live in hardship after their father leaves without a word, leaving behind an uncountable amount of debt. Their mother tirelessly works multiple jobs from morning to night just to keep them alive. No one knows where the father went or what happened to him.

Thirteen years later, Koji receives news that his father is still alive but is now terminally ill and doesn’t have much time left. The resentment and wounds within the family still haven’t healed, so they decide to ignore the news. But Koji can’t—he chooses to see his father.

Koji and his brother eventually hold a funeral for their father. The guests aren’t many, but their presence brings an unexpected warmth. As they listen to the stories shared by the guests, they begin to uncover new sides of their father—memories that stir a mix of anger, sadness, and confusion inside them.

Will they be able to forgive their father’s mistakes?

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Review:

When a father who once left you with deep scars suddenly reappears, it’s bound to stir a storm of emotions—between the longing for answers and the inability to erase the pain he caused. Blank 13, inspired by the true story of Koji Hashimoto, tries to capture that emotional turbulence on screen.

The film opens beautifully, showing the fear, grief, and suffering of Koji’s family after their father’s disappearance. It portrays the struggle of survival and the reality that life must go on, even when abandonment has left them broken.

The conflict starts when the family hears about their father’s whereabouts. Each character’s inner turmoil is portrayed subtly—pain from the past creeping back into lives they’ve worked so hard to rebuild. Yet, Koji’s fond memories and lingering longing push him to take a step toward forgiveness.

Things get more complicated when Koji hears stories from the funeral guests about how kind his father had been to others. During his 13 years away, the man who abandoned them apparently lived a life full of good deeds. This contradiction creates a quiet rage—how could someone capable of helping so many people have neglected his own family?

The ending feels tender and reflective. We see each character slowly come to terms with their feelings. One of the most striking scenes is when Koji overhears that the funeral next door is filled with paid mourners. That moment gives him a new perspective on what it means to truly be present and sincere in grief.

The film’s use of flashbacks is clear and effective—it doesn’t confuse, but instead deepens the emotional tone. However, since most of the story takes place at the funeral, the father’s past is mostly told through dialogue. It would have been more impactful if those stories were shown visually, to strengthen the emotional payoff.

Acting-wise, no one particularly stands out. The main characters don’t get enough room to show their emotional development, as some scenes shift too much focus to supporting characters with long dialogues. Still, the technical execution is neat: the camera work, transitions, and music blend together to create an atmosphere of melancholy and quiet regret.

Blank 13 isn’t just about anger or resentment—it’s about acceptance and forgiveness. The beautiful and painful memories of the past can’t be undone, but they leave traces that shape who we are. The courage to face and accept them becomes its own kind of peace.

“Forgiving doesn’t mean giving up—it means giving peace to yourself.”

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Memorable Scene:

Koji decides to visit his father in the hospital for the first time after 13 years apart. The awkwardness between them is heavy and raw. You can see in Koji’s eyes the hope that maybe his father has changed, that maybe he feels guilty for leaving. But that hope quickly turns into a quiet disappointment.

 

Memorable Line:

“I hated him to death—and now he’s dead.”

 

Ending:

Sad Ending

 
Recommendation:

Worth to Watch

(Aluna)