Office Royale

Anybody who has worked in an office knows that it can be vicious. Women are no different from men, sniping and backstabbing in pursuit of promotions or just making life difficult for each other because they can. In the office where Naoko (Mei Nagano) works, however, things have gone a step further – as will be clear to viewers in the opening scenes when our heroine is quietly chatting away and another woman goes flying into a filing cabinet behind her. She doesn’t bat an eyelid. Nao (as we will come to know her) values maintaining a professional demeanour.

What does it mean to be a proper office lady? You learn the ins and outs of the computer system. You answer the phone promptly and politely, remembering that the customer is always right. You keep your chin down and your voice gentle. You are always ready to help a senior member of staff (or, it seems, any male colleague). And you are loyal to your company. This latter stipulation will prove to be important. It is, perhaps, in accordance with Japanese tradition that a true master of office work would die for her company.

Engaging in physical combat, you will note, is not strictly required of all members of staff, but that’s in large part due to the assumption that many of them would be no good at it. Nao’s workplace is dominated by three gangs who are constantly at war – until, that is, a stranger arrives. Nao is instantly drawn to the beautiful and charismatic Ran (Alice Hirose), who can beat up large groups of people without so much as breaking a nail. She’s a clean cut hero figure, coming to the aid of a man facing sexual harassment and, as a friendship develops between them, promising that she will always protect Nao.

But where does this leave Nao herself? Has she become the hero’s rubbish sidekick, destined to annoy everybody and keep getting kidnapped? A keen comics fan, she begins to worry about her fate – especially as Ran’s reputation grows and representatives of other companies begin to turn up, spoiling for a fight.

Kazuaki Seki’s playful satire sticks closely to comic book form, which itself draws on popular martial arts cinema and the folk tales which predated that. It’s delivered with a perfectly straight face, with most scenes presented in pastel shades, softly lit and introduced by Nagano’s soft spoken narration. Traditional themes around honour, the reluctant hero and the loneliness of the warrior’s path sit side by side with office patter about diets and shopping and Nao’s longing for a boyfriend. The various foes who appear on the scene are clad in increasingly spectacular outfits, sometimes with scantily clad men in tow – though the latter are, naturally, dismissed when there is any danger that they might get caught up in combat. It’s not just that they might get hurt - they’re not really expected to understand the importance of it all.

If there’s one big problem with the film, it’s that almost all of the violence is kept offscreen. We see people flying through the air, we see their cuts and bruises, but we rarely see the knockout blows. Whilst there’s a stylistic aspect to this, which works well early on when we need to understand that the ordinary office workers take the fighting for granted, a little more of it at key moments could really have helped to give the film some energy. Once the plot gets going in earnest, however, this is less of an issue; and it is effective in reminding us of the pointlessness of the whole thing. It also enabled the cast to be chosen for their acting abilities. There are no weak links here but Hirose’s beautifully judged comedic work is particularly impressive.

Office Royale, which screened as part of the 2021 Fantasia International Film Festival, is certainly not for everyone, but the quality of the acting and myriad small observations in the script give it an appeal which should extend well beyond genre audiences. If the climate in your office is getting to you, it could be just the release you need.