In A Hundred Sweethearts, these worries spread to include the people and things around the filmmaker, as she presents herself as a slightly spoiled but unconceited youth who is used to having others care for her. It is both the comfort of this emotional security and the realization, as she becomes an adult, that it will not last that prompt Utagawa to record these events, seek out past ones in old home movies, and even re-enact them in the present. More than an affirmation of identity, film becomes for her a celluloid blanket, a warm set of images to which she must sweetly but sadly say goodbye as time marches inevitably on. - Aaron Gerow
