HIKARI

Did you always know you wanted to make films growing up? What inspired you to direct narrative films? 
 

I didn't always know. Filmmaking came to me through a winding path—everything I've done in my life kind of led me to this point. I started as a singer, joining a chorus group as a kid in Osaka. I performed in operas and musicals whenever major troupes came to Japan. From those experiences, I realized I needed to know what was beyond my small city.
My grandmother loved shooting stills, so there were always cameras around our household—35 millimeter, eight millimeter, camcorders everywhere. I started gravitating toward filming because I was awkward, but I enjoyed shooting live events. I wouldn't even call it filmmaking at first, just shooting.

When I came to America as a teenager, I was acting and doing theater. I loved performing arts. I auditioned for commercials and music videos, working as a performer. Then I became a photographer to make money—sometimes, I needed cash quickly. I shot headshots for friends, then musicians, weddings, funerals, bar mitzvahs, births—all of it. I really enjoyed capturing those moments and wanted to recreate them through cinema.

I became a hip-hop artist photographer for about three years, going to junkets, shooting concerts, and capturing behind-the-scenes moments. But I realized there was no money in hip hop—they were suffering too. I was probably 27 or 28 and wanted to do something more with my life. That's when I decided to go back to film school. It felt like everything I'd done pretty much summed up to filmmaking being the best path forward.
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After already working in the film industry, you returned to school to study film at USC. What motivated that decision, and in what ways did formal education reshape—or reaffirm—your instincts as a filmmaker?

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I went to USC to get the technical parts down. I really didn't know what a director did when I walked into the first orientation. They asked who wanted to become a director, and I thought, "I think I want to be a director, but I don't know how to do anything. So teach me."

I spent almost all my time in production. I was never film savvy—I didn't know much about film history or who made what. I was so behind on all that. Some people would go see movies every week; I never had the money or time. For two and a half years, I just spent my time making something.

I also didn't have financial support. I only had enough money for one year—USC is very expensive. My mom and I had just enough savings for that first year. For the second year, I wasn't sure what I was going to do. Luckily, I got a scholarship from USC and worked as a teacher's assistant for cinematography. That's how I paid my second-year tuition. I had no time to go see movies. I don't think I saw any movies in film school.
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Both Japanese and American cinema have produced hugely influential filmmakers and movements. Are there any filmmakers, artists, or mentors who have had a profound influence on your career and approach to cinema?
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I never really had a mentor in my life—I kind of did my own thing. I had one mentor, Kathleen Kennedy, during the Film Independent lab. She's one of my favorite human beings, incredible. But it was never hands-on; you just do your thing.

As for who influenced me, I really love Hayao Miyazaki. I grew up watching Nausicaä—it's my favorite movie. I was about nine or ten when it came out, and it really impacted me. I felt like I wanted to become Nausicaä, like I could save the world and community somehow. I watched that movie religiously. I still watch it without thinking; I know every single line. It's so beautiful, and the music is incredible. That movie was definitely my inspiration.

A lot of Studio Ghibli's work inspired me, especially the shows where Hayao Miyazaki did character drawings. They're all stories based on family—girls or boys going on a journey to find their family members. Looking back, I feel like I was really influenced by that because my movies have that journey aspect.

Later, after I graduated from USC, I started watching more movies. As a kid, Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli were my heroes. I also grew up watching Hollywood movies like Goonies and Stand By Me. I loved how Hollywood told stories with their structures. And my grandmother used to watch a lot of samurai movies—black and white films were constantly on in the background.

 

Among Japanese filmmakers, Juzo Itami is one of my favorite directors of all time. I love the way he tells stories.​

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You were raised in Japan and moved to the United States at 17 as an exchange student, continuing your education here. Although you left Japan, your work continues to center Japanese stories—how have these expereinces shaped your perspective and creative voice?

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I came to America and picked Utah because I wanted to go to a place where I didn't see Japanese people. At the time, 95% of the population was Caucasian. I didn't meet an Asian girl until six months in, and she was born there and didn't speak Japanese. I learned a lot about adapting to American culture. I had to speak the language—there was no choice. I was away from Japanese food for so many years.

I went back to undergrad in Utah to study theater and dance, partly because my best friend from high school went to college there, and the school had the best theater department with a Shakespeare program. Then I came to LA and did the whole acting thing.
When I started going back to Japan to work, I was already in my mid-30s. I didn't go back to film school until I was 31. As I started going back, I discovered this beauty about my country. I had been so far away from it—almost rejecting Japanese culture because I wanted to be American. But when I went back to Japan with more financial stability, I started seeing all parts of Japan and fell in love. I was revisiting and rediscovering.

The culture is so unique—it's a collision of tradition and modern technology. Tokyo fascinated me. I got so hooked and wanted to tell stories there. I thought, "Tokyo is awesome. I'd love to live here." As I spent more time there, ideas came to me naturally. For my first movie, I wondered where all the people with disabilities were and how they lived in Tokyo.

My thesis film was based on my grandmother's story. I was going to make it in the States for the longest time, but when I went back to Japan, the idea came to me. For some reason, stories just keep coming—I keep going back to Japan to write and make movies.

 

Many of your films center on the Japanese experience but are catered towards a more American or global audience, not strictly japanese. What differences do you see between Japanese and American cinema, and do you consciously blend elements of both in your work? Is working within this cultural space in between American and japanese cinema, American and japanese actors, an intentional part of your creative ethos?
 

I grew up watching Hollywood movies as a kid—that was my early film school. I loved how Hollywood movies told stories with their structures. But in the background, I always had my grandmother watching samurai movies. I also watched shows like Bewitched, a classic 1970s TV show. Then I studied filmmaking in America.

I was never really too exposed to Japanese cinema except for a few filmmakers I love, like Juzo Itami. I tend to only shoot what I know at this point, and I always listen to my instinct—camera position, all of it. I don't really follow or copy anybody's style. Whenever I choose shots, I choose where I feel the camera should be. The shots are very important to me to tell the story.
I'm not sure if that's inspired by American or Japanese cinema—it's just the way I do it. I think about the intention of where I put the camera. I want the camera to be close to where people don't usually get close. I want the audience to feel what the characters are feeling.

I spent more than half my life here in America. I learned filmmaking in America and watched a lot of Hollywood movies. To me, I'm more like an American filmmaker—I just make movies in Japan. I don't really think too much about doing this for Japanese versus American audiences.

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You both co-wrote and directed Rental Family. Why was this the story you felt compelled to tell? What inspired you to create this film? 

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I wanted to tell a story about human connection that comes from unique situations. I spent my first five years in America in Utah, and the people I met—who looked nothing like me—became so supportive and kind. To this day, they became my family. With what's happening in the world, I really wanted to write a story that connects humanity, regardless of background, cultural ethnicity, all of it. I wanted to make a movie about empathy and compassion.

Self-discovery is always something I lean toward because to me, that's the only way we can learn and grow. You discover about yourself when you're exposed to the unknown—you learn so much about life. That's something I've experienced growing up.
I also wanted to share the idea that we are divine beings—through Japanese Shintoism, I guess, but I didn't want to make a religious story. I wanted to remind us that we have the power to do anything we want. When you put your hands together and think that's where God is, you're actually putting hands to yourself because you need to respect yourself.

The rental family idea—I never knew rental family existed, and I'm Japanese! When I found that from a writer, my reaction was, "Wow, what is it?" I had to research why this business exists, what kind of people use these services, why it's a legit business, and what comes out of it.

We wrote many different versions and brainstormed what we could do with the story. We wanted to make it as simple as possible while incorporating compassion, human connection, and self-discovery—not just for the lead actor but for every single character. That was a lot of puzzle pieces we put together.

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How was it working with such a diverse cast, including actors like Brendan Fraser and iconic Japanese actors?

 

Brendan was my first choice. I reached out to him and asked if he'd read the script. Luckily, he said yes—that was incredible. The older gentleman I was so inspired by—I grew up watching his movies. He was open enough to audition for me. Every single person you saw was cast by audition, except for smaller roles where I knew some friends I'd worked with before.

It was inspiring and encouraging to see people willing to take a leap, to learn and try something new. Working with them was so much fun, but it was also different—every single person on set works differently.

The little girl had never acted before—that was her first time. Brendan is a pro, so he gives three different takes. The older gentleman is very Japanese traditional in his style—he comes in prepared, but my job was to loosen up the preparation. I'd say, "We prepared, now let's try something different because I know there's something beyond that we can discover together."

Takehiro Hira is used to doing it the Japanese way—every take is the same, so I had to get him to try something different. Mary was more intellectual, so I had to talk to her about the backstory constantly—where she's at emotionally, what happened before, and why she's doing this.

And in the middle of it, Brendan doesn't speak Japanese, and Akira doesn't speak English, but they have to communicate as if they understood each other and speak as if they know exactly what the other is feeling. I had to make sure they weren't just saying the lines but also meant what they were saying.

 

I know that films can take years to make and that you need a solid team around you. When times get tough, which women in your life have inspired and/or supported your creativity and artistry as a filmmaker? Who truly supported you every step of the way?

 

My mom, my sister, and my best friend—those are my three favorite people who constantly support me mentally. I need that mental support.

As far as filmmaking mentors, I got really lucky just doing my own thing. I'm fortunate or unfortunate that I didn't have a mentor, so I had to discover my own way. Filmmaking is so hard, and every movie I make, I learn so much from making mistakes. I would say making mistakes became my mentor—you learn what not to do next time. I became my own mentor.

When you're living abroad and don't have family close, your friends become your family. I think people should recognize that, too.

As a Japanese woman working in a white, male-dominated industry, you’ve likely encountered unique challenges. What advice would you offer to young women aspiring to pursue careers similar to yours in film?

This industry is male-dominant in general. Some people are so respectful regardless of whether they're white, male, or anything. But I've been to Japan and had terrible times because people look at you like, "Who's this woman?" Some photographers, assistant directors, even PAs don't know how to respect women.

If people are giving you a hard time and you feel like a door is closing on you, don't take no for an answer. Always be collaborative—that's very important. But don't take no for an answer.

Instead of relying on everything in their hands—basically giving away your power—have questions and answers. Have you done your homework? If your team isn't working the way you want, what's happening? Are you giving too much power to them? Are you really voicing your opinion? You have to look into it.

If you realize you're doing everything you can but they're still giving you a hard time, fire them. Long story short, life is too short. That's part of the learning experience. If somebody is giving you a hard time and it doesn't make any sense, chances are they're not making any sense. You have to act upon it.

If you want to make the movie you want to make and something doesn't sit right in your belly or your heart, you have to take action. Listen to what you want and what you feel it needs. Even if the producer says, "No, we can't do that," don't take no for an answer. That's my best advice.

Being a female director, especially an Asian woman, people tend to say no more easily. We have to work on our craft and start building our family—people you can trust and rely on. When you get sick, they're going to be there for you. If you can't be on set, they know what you wanted to shoot.

Build the family and foundation so you can be as creative as possible. You need that creativity and people who surround you who support that idea. Surround yourself with them. You're the director—you're the leader of this entire 100- or 200-person crew. You have to be able to articulate what you want. You have to be kind and reasonable. But when people are giving you a hard time, you just have to say, "No, thank you. You gotta do your job."