“Achilles and the Tortoise” can turn off just as many as it inspires, simply due to the film’s episodic nature and its black humor level. The type of humor that would place a big smile on someone like Kurt Vonnegut, which is just fine with me.

Young Machisu Kuramochi is an introverted kid immersed in his own world of painting. His father is a connoisseur of the arts (or so he would like others to think) and a powerful businessman. Young Machisu’s world comes to a crash when his father’s business collapses and his father commits suicide soon after. Exasperating his problems, his mother commits suicide shortly afterwards as well. Machisu is then sent off to an orphanage.

Now in his early 20’s, Machisu continues his pursuit of becoming a painter and attends art school. He also works in a factory to pay for his tuition. At the factory he meets Sachiko, a women who understands his art and eventually marries Machisu. Unfortunately, success, like the tortoise that Achilles fails to overtake in Zeno’s paradox, is always one step ahead of Machisu. Machisu continues his attempts to sell his paintings to an unscrupulous art dealer, but fails each time.

Now in his elderly years, Machisu is still driven to become an accomplished painter. He mimics every style known in the art world, but still finds rejection by the same unscrupulous art dealer. Meanwhile, his wife Sachiko becomes increasingly disillusioned by their quest and their daughter is disgusted by their parents obsession. After Sachiko is arrested for an artistic stunt to inspire Machisu, Sachiko leaves Machisu for good. Then his teenage daughter dies. None of this deters Machisu’s singular drive for artistic success, but will he ever find success?

Takeshi Kitano, an accomplished painter in his own right, centers “Achilles and the Tortoise” in the art world and takes frequent jabs at the art dealers who influence people’s perception of what “art” really is. The film is also loaded with beautiful art work all done by Takeshi Kitano himself. Yet, this isn’t what captured my imagination about the film so much so as the singular pursuit by Machisu Kuramochi to achieve success. This aspect could have worked with an aspiring gardener or a baseball player just as easily as a painter.

The first third of the film covers Machisu Kuramochi’s childhood years and unfolds in a dramatic way with sweet visuals and pacing that is done just right. Child actor Reiko Yoshioka shared an uncanny resemblance with Takeshi Kitano which works to the movie’s favor. The middle portion of the film dealing with Machisu’s post-teenage years is a bit more uneven. There are a handful of funny moments when Machisu works with his fellow art students. Then there are the less than original diatribes about the true spirit of art (should have left that on the editing room floors) & the poor choice in casting Yurei Yanagi as Machisu Kuramochi (he doesn’t resemble the younger or older versions and lacks screen prescence). Meanwhile, the third portion of the film features some of the funniest moments in the movie, with the “Jean-Michel Basquiat” scenes being particularly hilarious. Kanako Higuchi gets significant screen time as Mrs. Kuramochi and she is simply wonderful. Interesting to note, casting for Kuramochi’s mother and wife always shared a strong resemblance – which I don’t think was by chance.

The movie then wraps everything together with an uplifting message that comes out of nowhere. It turns out success for Machisu Kuramochi isn’t attaining fame in the art world, but rather reclaiming the unrequited love held by his ex-wife Sachiko. You see, “love” is to “success” in the way many people associate success with acceptance and acceptance with love. Thus, when you’re seeking success it just might turn out that you’re simply seeking love, something attainable for even Achilles in his pursuit of the tortoise.