Hirokazu Kore-Eda, worthy heir of Yasujirō Ozu: a look back at 25 years of career

Since his Palme d'Or at Cannes in 2018, Kore-Eda has not gone unnoticed. After 25 years of cinema, thirteen films and the international success of A Family Affair, the Tokyo is at the top of his art.

Worthy heir of Yasujirō Ozu by the subjects he tackles and by the contemplative style of his films, Kore-Eda also calls for a recurring cast. We find, among others, the late Kiki Kirin (In a garden that seems eternal, The Delights of Tokyo) who died on September 15, 2018, but also Lily Franky (The Naked Director) and Hiroshi Abe, charismatic actor particularly appreciated in Japan. For his fourteenth film, entitled The Truth, Hirokazu Kore-Eda goes beyond borders and gives us a feature film entirely shot in France…

Nobody Knows : a moving Peter Pan of modern times 

Kore-Eda's fourth feature film, Nobody Knows (2004) is inspired by a macabre news item from Japan in the 1980s. Dubbed Sugamo child-abandonment case, the case took place in 1988 in the suburbs of Tokyo. After a romantic encounter, a fickle mother abandons her five children in her Toshima-ku apartment. Left to fend for themselves with only ¥50,000 to survive, the children were found nine months later in a state of extreme malnutrition: one of them did not survive.

Nobody Knows follows the story of Akira, Kyoko, Shigeru and Yuki, four children whose mother abandons them to join a lover. The case is romanticized, but some sordid details of the case are still preserved. Japanese television icon and co-host of the reality TV show Terrace House, You plays the role of Keiko, the mother. Yuya Yagira embodies the young Akira, twelve years old, thrown by his mother into the hostile reality of the adult world. His sublime performance earned him several awards, including Best Actor at Cannes in 2004.

A Family Affair before its time

Tokyo, nowadays. Three children slip out of the suitcases of Akira and his mother Keiko, who have just moved into apartment 203. Here, the rules are simple: no shouting, no noisy games, and no going out. What could be better than a funny introduction to immerse us in this sordid story? As a young teenager caught between an absent mother and an unknown father, Akira manages the daily life of the Fukushima family with his sister Kyoko. At the age of twelve, the young man perfectly embodies the Japanese qualifier majime : serious, calm, and responsible. Every night, Kyoko carefully hangs clean laundry while Akira cooks for the siblings. "You have to eat your carrots," he tells his little brother Shigeru, a smile on the corner of his lips. Both simple and touching, their conversations show an admirable maturity. "He left his carrots again," Kyoko says of Shigeru, a jovial little boy with a strong character. 

An intimate realization for a disturbing drama

Perfectly recognizable, Kore-Eda's paw perfectly illustrates the subject of Nobody Knows. Still shots and slow camera movements follow one another in a lazy routine effect. The cleverly exploited close-ups plunge the viewer into the intimacy of this strange family that seems to be spied on. While Akira and Kyoko manage the chores of the house every day assiduously, Keiko continues to conquer. Irresponsible, she returns later and later, and often alcoholic. One day, she tells Akira that she has met someone she has fallen in love with. "Again? Irritated, the young teenager reprimands his mother, who immediately retorts in an unbearable rattle-like voice. "This time it's different." A fair statement that marks Keiko's first long absence…

The unbearable beginnings of a terrible abandonment

A few days later, Keiko leaves a note and a few 10,000 yen bills on the kitchen table. "I'm leaving for a while, take care of your brother and sisters," she wrote. The letter is carefully decorated with small calligraphic flowers, but Akira's look is serious. Taking his responsibilities seriously, the schoolboy deposits the money into an account, and uses it sparingly. Left to his own devices, he revises his mathematics by keeping track of the money he spends to feed his family. Reserved but caring, Akira never forgets young Yuki's favorite sweets when he goes out shopping. Benevolent and courageous, Akira will stop at nothing to preserve his family. When the money runs out, he solicits Kyoko's fathers, Yuki and Shigeru, whose immaturity infuriates as much as it saddens.

Nobody Knows, the tragic fate of neglected siblings

As the situation verges on disaster, Keiko returns home after a long month of absence. With her arms full of gifts, she redeems her children's love with stuffed animals and remote-controlled cars. Would Keiko be remorseful? Far from it. As she plans to leave again, Akira rages, "You're too selfish, Mom." Capricious and infantile, Keiko adds: "What, I don't have the right to be happy? ». Hirokazu Kore-Eda sketches here one of his favorite themes: parent-child relationships. Deeply self-centered, Keiko lives her happiness at the expense of that of her children and relies on Akira to play mothers instead. "I'm counting on you to do your best! ": painful words of encouragement that push Akira beyond the limits of the bearable.

A tragedy tinged with sweetness

Just a few days after her "professional" trip, Keiko announces to the children that she must leave, but will be back for Christmas. Disappointed, but not worried, Kyoko, Akira, Shigeru and Yuki continue their peaceful existence. Time passes slowly, between household chores and joyful childish conversations. A few jovial guitar notes seem to lessen the sadness of the family drama portrayed by Kore-Eda. A grayish stairwell, Akira's strolls at the bend of an alley, a small sunny park … plans that are repeated to draw up the pleasant daily routine of Fukushima.

Like a joyful refrain, Akira's words liven up conversations and comfort siblings in need of affection. Lulled by a light melody, the spectator also patiently awaits the return of Keiko, who has promised to return on December 25. Little by little, the trees become bare, the landscapes whiten, and the children lose hope. The money is lacking, and the gravity of the situation is resurfacing.

The lie as seen by Hirokazu Kore-Eda

The theme of lying is perfectly addressed in Nobody Knows. On the one hand, those of Keiko who hurt and destroy. By removing her children from society, Keiko prevents them from growing up and being happy. On the other, the blatant lies of love of Akira, who struggles to preserve the happiness of his brothers and sisters. When he discovers that Keiko has quit his job and changed his name, he distributes the traditional otoshidama (small envelopes filled with money that are received on New Year's Eve) to the siblings and claims that Keiko sent them.

The beginning of the end for Akira and his family

Soon, Akira grows up, dreams of going to school, and making friends. Money is lacking, running water and electricity are cut off. Keiko has changed her life and will not return. Broken, Akira counts every penny, then starts stealing. When the landlord, worried about no longer receiving payment of rent, visits the Fukushima, the reality is shocked by her atrocity. With a blank stre, the children wander around the apartment in a pitiful state. Appalled, the owner looks away, and slowly walks away. She will not call the police or social services, leaving the children to their fate. Kore-Eda offers a scathing critique of Japanese society, which is not interested in the plight of the weakest. 

A shocking drama

Nobody Knows is heartbreaking. He points to the decay of innocence and the disenchantment of a son with his mother and the society around them. The exquisite sweetness that emerges from the film during the first hour slowly disintegrates to give way to an unbearable descent into hell. Time seems long, the joyful melody that rocked the film is becoming rarer. The children don't smile anymore. The laughter gives way to angry cries and a painful tension slowly settles between the characters.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dYg-EH0r81g

Air Doll, a breath of fresh air by Kore-Eda

Released theatrically in 2009, Air Doll is Kore-Eda's seventh film. Bae Doo-na (Cloud Atlas, Sense8) plays Nozomi, an inflatable doll who is a slave to Hideo's solitary pleasures, played by Itsuji Itao (The Naked Director, Love Exposure). In his fifties, Hideo lives in a picturesque apartment hidden at the end of a dark Tokyo alley. Every evening, he sits in front of Nozomi, a mock wife to whom he tells his day in front of a bowl of ramen bought at the local konbini . Obsessed by this companion that he fantasizes, Hideo dreams of being director of the pitiful fast-food restaurant of which he is only a servile employee. Between solitary antics and monologues on the pillow, Hideo is the sad victim of the fake happiness he invented for himself.

Bae Doo-na as a dutch wife full of life

On a cool winter morning, everything changes. Lulled by a few notes of xylophone, Nozomi awakens. Bathed in daylight, she timidly brushes the morning dew and utters her first words in a hesitant voice. "Ki-re-i", or "beautiful" in Japanese. 

Dressed as a soubrette and flanked by an apple-shaped lunch box, Nozomi wanders among the salarymen in a hurry to go to work. Under the tinkling of Japanese chimes tossed by the wind, the young woman marvels at each new discovery. A little girl running, a wife taking out her garbage, a municipal employee picking up garbage… But barely "born", Nozomi suffers her first disappointment when she meets a group of children on a school trip. The toddlers heckle happily, and between bursts of laughter, a girl grabs Nozomi to drag her into their guillerette choreography. Smiling, the little girl immediately lets go of Nozomi's hand, under the bewildered gaze of the young woman. "Tsumetai! (in French, you're frozen!) she tells him. Nozomi moves like a human being, but the coldness of his skin betrays his true nature.

A deep reflection on human feelings

Little by little, Nozomi learns to talk and walk, then falls in love with Junichi whom she meets in a video club. Could this be a nod to the world of cinema so dear to Kore-Eda? For the young woman, it's love at first sight, and for us, the click. Too captivated by his imaginary romance, Hideo does not even notice that Nozomi is no longer an inanimate object. Is that love? Living alongside the other to fill the loneliness, without ever paying attention to him? This is one of the many reflections that Air Doll offers: love, loneliness, dependence on others and human relationships…

Live and let yourself die

Different from the others in many ways but ready to do anything to look as human as possible, Nozomi nevertheless discovers the other side of the coin. "Having a heart was heartbreaking": because to live is also to be wounded, to suffer, to grow old, and to die. Slowly, Nozomi's shimmering gaze gives way to eyes swollen by the pain of existing. The innocence of a young girl still untouched by the world turns into the bitter disenchantment of a woman broken by life. Sometimes airy and jovial, the soundtrack composed by Katsuhiko Maeda also becomes a sweet tragic melody. Pastel tones and rays of sunshine give way to dark colors and rain. 

A sweet ode to human life

Adapted from the manga The Pneumatic Figure of A Girl by Yoshiie Gōda, Air Doll is a journey to the heart of the human. Through poetic dialogues and a realization in perfect symbiosis with the narrative, the feature film dazzles with its delicacy. Who better than a character alien to life to teach us how to do it? Under its guise of a fantastic tale, Air Doll reveals a message likely to touch all of us. As children, we learn to count, talk and live together, but nothing prepares us to suffer and be hurt. "Kurushii" or "it hurts" in English, these are the words of Nozomi to describe the suffering that brings her the soul she has received. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QeMfPUOZuy8

A Family Affair, the culmination of a career already at the top

For this thirteenth feature film, the reception was triumphant. Nominated for six different prizes after its release, A Family Affair (2018) first won the Palme d'Or at Cannes in 2018. Then comes the Best Director Award at the Antalya International Film Festival, then the 2019 César for Best Foreign Film. After The Third Murder, a thriller that abandons the theme of the family in favor of that of the death penalty, Kore-Eda returns with a family drama reminiscent of some of his previous feature films. 

On the distribution side, we find some of the faces specific to the Japanese director's achievements. Lily Franky plays Osamu Shibata, a disillusioned and lazy worker attracted by easy money. Sakura Andô (Love Exposure) plays his wife Nobuyo, a role for which she received the Japan Academy Prize for Best Actress in 2019. Kiki Kirin wears the costume of Hatsue, grandmother full of kindness and wisdom.

Manbiki Kazoku, an evocative title

A Family Affair , in Japanese Manbiki Kazoku, literally means "a family of shoplifters". Under its romantic looks, the title hides a meaning closely linked to the story. One winter evening, Osamu and his son Shōta come face to face with a little girl abandoned by her parents. Osamu decides to bring her back under his roof to feed her before taking her home. During the meal, Hatsue examines him under the worried gaze of the rest of the family. The little girl, Yuri, is covered in bruises. The well-established hypothesis of child violence is confirmed when Nobuyo and her husband overhear a violent altercation between Yuri's parents. "I didn't want this child either!" his mother roared in a fit of hysteria. The decision is made for Nobuyo and Osamu to keep Yuri to protect her from her parents' beatings. 

Between morality and family duty

After only a few minutes, the bet is successful for Kore-Eda who seeks to make us sympathize with the Shibata, a family at first sight unsavory. Can we blame them for kidnapping Yuri, victim of abject neglect at only four years old? Doesn't it deserve to be loved and preserved? This is the difficulty pointed out by Kore-Eda. After the moving Like Father, Like Son, the director once again explores the subject of the ties of the heart, opposed to those of blood. If they don't guarantee us to be loved, can't we choose our family? As Nobuyo puts it so well, "Normally, you can't choose your parents. But it's stronger when you choose them, don't you think?». 

Like Father, Like Son 2.0

From a certain point of view, A Family Affair almost seems to be a more in-depth version of Like Father, Like Son. In the latter, Keita Nonomiya, 6 years old, is tossed between a modest family of which he is the biological son, and the wealthy family that raised him following a mistake of motherhood at birth. Kore-Eda's ninth feature film reflects on the question of ethics. Should an infant exchanged by mistake live with his biological family or adoptive family? What are the prevailing links? In A Family Affair, it is almost a matter of life and death. Little Yuri is stuck between two unsavory families. On the one hand his biological parents, violent and uncaring, and on the other the Shibata, unscrupulous thieves (and more…). 

Love as an essential bond

But the strength of Shibata, and what allows us to understand them, lies in the deep bonds that unite them. As Osamu remarked to Aki, "we are bound by the heart." The film is an almost extreme reasoning to show us that the real family is the one we choose, and that makes us happy. "When you love, you protect, you don't give up," Nobuyo told Yuri. Whatever the circumstances, love prevails over blood ties. It is the only essential element in building a family.

The family according to Hirokazu Kore-Eda

Kore-Eda distills some of his childhood memories into this crusade-like drama against a Japanese society unjust to the weakest. From I Wish to Like Father, Like Son via Nobody Knows, Kore-Eda dissects childhood and strives to sublimate the joys and sorrows of adults in the making. Through a deeply touching work, the director seeks to deconstruct our image of the traditional family. Like his predecessor Yasujirō Ozu, Kore-Eda once again signs a feature film striking realism. He manages to capture the painful and authentic moments of family life to release a magnificent poetry.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9382rwoMiRc

Catherine Deneuve and Juliette Binoche in the spotlight in The Truth

For his fourteenth film, presented at the Venice Film Festival in 2019, Hirokazu Kore-Eda installs his cameras in France. With The Truth, the Japanese director approaches his favorite theme from a different angle and is interested in the stormy relationship between a mother and her daughter. This time, no Lily Franky or Kiki Kirin on the horizon. The usual cast of Kore-Eda gives way to a cast that is both ambitious and almost 100% French. Proof that the director's mastery and sharp eye transcend all borders.

A tumultuous relationship carried by a dream cast 

In this Franco-Japanese production, Juliette Binoche plays Lumir, a French screenwriter expatriate in New York and married to Hank. Played by Ethan Hawke, Hank is a sympathetic American B-movie actor with alcoholic tendencies. While the biography of his mother Fabienne has just been published, Lumir, Hank and their daughter Charlotte decide to visit him in Paris. The relationship between Lumir and Fabienne (Catherine Deneuve) is thorny, and the situation worsens. For good reason, Fabienne is a capricious actress, selfish and obsessed with her career to the point of hurting her loved ones…

Like mother, like daughter

This time, it is the difficult relationship between a mother and daughter that is explored by Hirokazu Kore-Eda. On one side, Fabienne, an ambitious actress obsessed with her film roles. Frank, sharp in her words and imbued with herself, Fabienne has everything of a detestable woman. Brimming with pride, she denigrates what she does not understand to the detriment of those around her. On the other, his daughter Lumir, a child abandoned by her mother and now a bitter woman. When Luc, Fabienne's agent, leaves her for a blunder she committed, Lumir is forced to replace him and accompany her mother on set. In the film entitled Souvenirs de ma mère, Fabienne plays Amy, a young woman whose mother abandons her to live in space. While cinema and reality gradually merge, Fabienne's new role is a catharsis, and she seems to abandon her all-consuming pride…

The family seen through the prism of cinema

A true goldsmith of the big screen, Kore-Eda has an eye for detail. Throughout the film, the director distills subtle references to the cinema that is so dear to him. From the first scenes, Charlotte walks a small camera through which she observes the world around her. More comfortable in front of a camera than in reality, Fabienne smiles and poses for her little girl. Yet driven by an outspokenness defying the laws of propriety, Fabienne seems unable to face the truth. Cinema is the possibility of inventing and lying: as in a role, Fabienne plays comedy to hide her weaknesses.

A typical Kore-Eda licked achievement

Different from Hirokazu Kore-Eda's previous feature films by its cultural aspect, The Truth still manages to touch thanks to its realism. Through the conflictual relationships of two adults, Kore-Eda joins the subject of childhood, which he likes to explore. In the manner of Ozu, he manages to capture the details of everyday life and extract the poetic essence. A delicate contemplative spirit, a few piano notes and usual slow shots that we like to admire. The subject of the film touches by its sincerity. Who has never been in conflict with his parents? We have all felt misunderstood one day: The Truth offers a beautiful reflection on the place of honesty in relationships with others. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoNoOn6c0gA

With a filmography of nearly fourteen films, Hirokazu Kore-Eda shines by his way of approaching the subject of family. Inspired by his own experiences, the Japanese director portrays dysfunctional and imperfect families , but which shine by their unity. From Like Father, Like Son to Nobody Knows , Still Walking, Our Little Sister and A Family Affair, Kore-Eda delicately explores all facets of human life. Childhood, abandonment, love, truth, betrayal… Themes approached with poetry by a brilliant director.