‘And So I’m at a Loss’: Cautionary tale turns meta

The turn of the year is traditionally a time for reflection: an opportunity to look back at what’s gone by (possibly through a haze of alcohol) and determine how to do better next time around.

This high-minded notion gets flipped on its head in Daisuke Miura’s fleet-footed caper, “And So I’m at a Loss.” Set in the lead-up to New Year’s Eve, it’s a picaresque tale in which the hero doesn’t so much face up to his mistakes as run in the opposite direction — and keep running.

Yuichi (Taisuke Fujigaya) is an entitled underachiever who’s grown accustomed to taking everything in life for granted. However, when long-term girlfriend Satomi (Atsuko Maeda) discovers that he’s been fooling around behind her back, he hurriedly packs a bag and makes a run for it.

So begins a journey that takes him from Tokyo to his hometown in Hokkaido via a string of friends and family members, all of whom have only limited patience for his prodigal-son schtick. After coming to blows with childhood pal Shinji (Akiyoshi Nakao), Yuichi tries his luck with coworker Osamu (Katsuya Maiguma) and disapproving older sister Kaori (the single-named Karina).

When he heads back to his family home, he finds his mother, Tomoko (Mieko Harada), living alone and crippled by rheumatism, like a personification of his guilty conscience. Meanwhile, an unexpected reunion with his deadbeat dad, Koji (Etsushi Toyokawa), offers a glimpse of what he may one day become himself: a permanently indebted wastrel, living off-grid on account of his cell phone being cut off.

Bringing his own 2018 stage production to the screen, playwright-turned-director Miura keeps the episodic story moving along briskly. Still, there’s a repetitive nature to Yuichi’s encounters, all of which seem to end in shouting, recriminations and a swift dash for the exit. Although the variety of locations helps the film transcend its stage origins, the cast’s performances can often feel like they’d be better suited to the theater.

Some of the performers, Fujigaya included, are reprising roles that they played in the original production. Your exact mileage with his protagonist will probably vary: Japanese cinema is teeming with unrepentant, solipsistic jerks like this, although I felt the actor managed to retain a kernel of sympathy throughout. Maybe that’s because even his most obnoxious behavior still registers as fairly mild. Granted, there’s something outrageous about how Yuichi does a runner whenever an argument erupts, but his severance from friends and family isn’t as dramatic as the film makes out.

The movie certainly isn’t as scandalous as Miura’s “Call Boy” (2018) or “Love’s Whirlpool” (2014), with their unflinching explorations of sexuality, although his ear for dialogue is still just as sharp.

The director livens things up by introducing a meta element. First, a movie industry acquaintance tells Yuichi that his exploits would make a good film, then his errant dad encourages him to treat life’s adversities like a screen hero. Things aren’t getting bad — they’re getting interesting!

There’s a neat false ending, but I was honestly annoyed by the way the story’s final twist shifts much of the burden of blame from its (obviously culpable) protagonist. It does at least arrest the narrative’s trajectory toward a clear-cut conclusion in which lessons are learned and all is forgiven. Never mind, though: There’ll always be next year.