John Kaizan Neptune opens Words Can’t Go There, a new feature film documenting his path is life by immediately explaining the title, which I suppose is the right choice. It’s poetic and mystical, just as it should be. Either way, that path seems initially very narrow, his passion for a traditional Japanese musical instrument called a Shakuhachi, a bamboo flute that’s played – and you’ll forgive the analogy – like you might play a modern recorder all there is to tell. Of course, as the film progresses, it becomes much than what power this music may hold on a man but how a man has power over the music itself.
Directed by his son David Neptune, Words Can’t Go There briefly expositions how and why John made his first journey to Japan as a 19-year-old, wanting to study the Shakuhachi and how it ultimately molded his destiny. It then transitions into the story of the instrument and how it drew the young California surfer into its expanding folds of history, tradition, and influence. We discover the teaching techniques that shaped him and how the Japanese culture itself became integral to his training and lifestyle.
From there, it’s how John advanced as a Shakuhachi player, incorporating his own vision to the performance, including jazz, that carries the rest of the film, as John brought the flute to the outside world, playing his Japanese instrument to American music halls in the 1980s. What’s important about that is how John, as a foreigner, had the ability to break from the accepted norms of how the Shakuhachi is played, where strict repetition to style and form is the standard, in his hands becoming free-flowing and improvisational. It’s not a stretch to say, at least by any definition of the film, that the Shakuhachi was his true calling.
And this isn’t just about playing the flute but how he became a highly-skilled maker as well, redefining the process and meaning behind tuning and creating. His experiments drew to him a well-known master, who joined John to learn how to make better flutes. That might seem sort of uninteresting at first, as surely a thing like this must be about the music itself, yet his dedication and commitment to the craft is one of the most galvanizing segments in the film.
David doesn’t attempt to deify his father, as one might expect a son to do with such freedom in telling the story, instead keeping himself nearly entirely absent from the production, aside from a few glimpses as he listens to his dad. Instead, he allows the film to feel like a testament, where John and those he had been influenced by and has impact on share their experiences. It’s beautifully shot and highly respectful, but most affecting, very personal, sometimes funny and often emotional.
You mostly likely have never heard of the Shakuhachi, though will surely recognize its sound. Words Can’t Go There will absolutely make you familiar with this unique instrument – I actually play (to a much, much lesser degree) the Korean equivalent called the Daegeum – and hopefully will make you want to learn more. John’s story is a gentle, meditative one, balanced on the breathy, haunting tones of the flute he has so passionately embraced.