Jessica Kiang The two men on the train are sharing a single set of earphones. “Good song, isn’t it?” says the more gregarious of the two.
The quieter man smiles faintly and agrees, “It goes with the landscape.” They could be childhood friends reconnecting, or colleagues who get along despite their differences.
But they are filmmaker Atsushi Sakahara, victim of the 1995 Tokyo subway sarin attacks, and Hiroshi Araki, long-standing member of Aleph (formerly Aum Shinriko) the doomsday cult that carried them out.
And their flickering but unmistakable connection forms the core of the desperately moving “Me and the Cult Leader,” a film made all the more heartbreaking because you can never be quite sure who your heart is breaking for.
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