The fifth day of TIFF commences with a screening of the German comedy, Leroy. Seventeen years old, Leroy (Alain Morel) plays the cello, more or less gets along with his parents, and does well in school. When pretty Eva (Anna Hausburg) swings her long blond hair at him, he is smitten. They begin a storybook romance that skids when he meets her family -- Leroy is an Afro-sporting Afro-German, and Eva’s father is a right wing councilor. Oh, and her five brothers are Neo-Nazis.

Then the inevitable conflict occurs. With no visible figures in the Afro-German community, Leroy turns to 1970s blaxploitation and emulates Shaft, recruiting fellow minority friends. Leroy walking down the street, Malcolm X glasses, Shaft-like long leather coat, swinging a baseball bat, the soundtrack chanting “Leroy!” simulating the Shaft theme, is hilarious, but its black empowerment is reduced to pop fun.

First-time feature film director Armin Völckers, who also wrote the screenplay, attempts to unite teen romance, satire, blaxploitation, and social awareness under the banner of comedy with uneven results. However, the film is carried by sheer likeability. Headed by the immensely affable Morel, and supported by Hausburg, who sparkles with girl-next-door charm, the cast is solid. Leroy may not be as galvanizing or as provocative as it could be, but true to Leroy’s “funk not fascism” motto, the film doesn’t pound its issues down your throat, it just wants you to have a good time.

The Q&A session included Völckers, Morel, Hausburg, and producers Oliver Stoltz and Jan Kruger. Völckers, who is white, revealed why he wrote a story with an Afro-German protagonist. Having lived in Brazil until the age of seven, he felt like an outsider in a black world. The feeling of estrangement from what was supposed to be home did not go away when he moved back to Germany. He noted, “Many Germans, with good reason, feel like outsiders in their own country.”

Asked about the reception of Leroy in Germany, Morel spoke excitedly of the praise he received from the Afro-German community. Out of 100,000 Afro-Germans, only a handful are actors. It took five months of searching to cast Morel as Leroy.

I attended the evening’s world premiere of the Japanese film Little DJ. Owing to the stage appearance of the cast and director, the auditorium was packed. A heavily orchestrated media event, the interview session was not particularly entertaining and was simply an opportunity to gawk at the well-known stars.

The film is set in Hokkaido, 1977. Twelve- year-old Taro is admitted to the hospital for an illness. An aspiring DJ, the head doctor arranges for Taro to record and play his own radio program, believing it to be the best possible treatment. As his stay extends, the film follows Taro’s relationships with his parents, hospital employees, fellow patients, and Tamaki, a fellow patient he falls in love with.

The above paragraph alone will allow you to string together the basic plot points, down to the fate of the protagonist. Little DJ makes no bones about following the tried and tested tearjerker formula, but I found myself moved in spite of this -- judging from the steadily increasing sounds of audience sniffles, I was not the only one.

The story is immaculately crafted with careful attention to detail. It moves leisurely, allowing its characters room to develop. The large cast performs with sincerity and clear affection for their characters, greatly contributing to the film’s warm, gentle tone.

As a Japanese viewer, I responded most to the depiction of small-town Japan in the seventies. The close-knit relations within the community, the workaholic father and his uncontested position in the family, and the irresistibly catchy seventies pop songs -- all products of the era, but they are elements that maintain their hold over the Japanese people to this day.