In a near-future Tokyo, not too different from ours, Japan is on the verge of societal collapse. The government is run by an aspiring fascist dictator, and an omnipresent surveillance state, in which every citizen must go through regular facial ID checks, has become the norm. Though you wouldn’t guess it based on the way the groups of rebellious youths run amok, sneaking into underground clubs and breaking into their school clubroom after hours to blast EDM music (an “old” genre that no one listens to anymore, they quip).One such group of rebellious high school students go one step too far, however. Seeing their principal flaunting the new sports car he bought, they decide to flip it on its nose and place it in the middle of the school grounds — creating something that looks like a post-modern art piece. As the sunrise starts to fracture into rosy drops of light, they stumble home, pleased with their cheeky little act of rebellion. But the next day, their prank is taken as an act of “terrorism” by the irate principal, who instantly installs a strict video surveillance system in the school for everyone’s “safety.” Thus begins Happyend, Neo Sora’s chilling vision of a dystopian future not too far off from our own reality. It’s a shaggy, beautifully understated film about the resilience of youthful rebellion and ennui in the face of an increasingly bleak future. And while it may not have too much to say about that future, it’s hard to dislike the film’s slice-of-life approach to its sci-fi premise.“The systems that define people are crumbling in Japan,” reads a title card at the beginning of Happyend, setting the scene for a future that we imagine looks closer to apocalyptic. But instead, Neo Sora’s vision of this “distant” future looks very similar to the present, albeit with a few more technological advancements, and a generation of youths that are even more impossibly disillusioned. But this future world is secondary to the story of childhood best friends Yuta (Hayao Kurihara) and Kou (Yukito Hidaki), who are aspiring DJs and de facto leaders of a gang of misfits including the mixed-race Tomu (Arazi), the part-Chinese Ming (Shina Peng) and the fashionably flamboyant Ata-chan (Yuta Hayashi).They’ve become known as the troublemakers of their school, but their carefree days of pulling harmless pranks are over once the elaborate new security system arrives. The system immediately identifies, through facial recognition, a delinquent student and penalizes them with demerit points. At first, the gang treats it like a joke, with Ata-chan putting on a show of obscene gestures to the camera to a crowd of cheering students. But soon the punishments start to feel more real: their favorite teacher is replaced with a humorless rule-follower and their music club room, which they had decorated with their own posters and graffiti, is seized and dismantled by the school. As the threat of a world-ending earthquake looms over the nation, and an increasingly militant government threatens to take more drastic measures to curb crime and enforce “security,” the latent xenophobia that had been simmering beneath the surface finally explodes in their school. And Kou, who has endured harassment as a Zainichi Korean citizen all his life, is caught in the middle.The students observe the upturned sports car. | Film MovementHappyend is much more meandering and slow-burning than its premise would have you think, happier to tap into the nihilist ennui of youth than into the bleak realities of its surveillance-state future. As Kou gets increasingly frustrated with Yuta’s immaturity and how he doesn’t care about the future, Yuta asks sardonically, what future? Sora paints a sterile, flat future full of empty spaces and hospital-white walls, the film only coming alive and full of color when Kou and Yuta play or dance to their music. But this life can only exist underground or in hidden spaces, and Kou slowly has to learn how to live in the world above. This is where Happyend’s coming-of-age narrative gets confused with its anti-conformity one — at one point, it seems like one starts to negate the other.In the end, Happyend isn’t quite the happy ending that the film’s title promises, though perhaps its question mark of a denouement may be apt. Maybe we can’t escape the surveillance state that is inevitably coming for us all, but the little victories against the looming grip of authoritarianism may be the best we can hope for. It’s perhaps a more chilling conclusion than the film intended, but it’s only fitting that Happyend’s ending would be ironic.Happyend is playing in New York theaters now, and expands to LA September 19.