"Patriarchy continues to prevail in Japan, particularly in rural areas" : Koji Fukada probes LGBT issues in the Japanese countryside

Japanese director Koji Fukada is selected for the first time in competition in this 79^e edition of the Cannes festival. A few days in Nagi, presented on May 13 in Cannes, is expected in theaters in France on October 7, 2026.

The film tells the story of Yuri, an architect, who comes to spend a few days with her ex-sister-in-law Yoriko, a sculptor based in Nagi, in the province of Okayama. Yoriko offers to Yuri to make her sculpted portrait. Over the course of the sessions, the two women get closer and Yuri, who also spends a lot of time with Keita and Haruki, two inseparable village boys. Yuri decides to extend his stay in Nagi.

Koji Fukada, an important figure in today’s Japanese cinema, tells franceinfo Culture how he worked on this film, and on a production that he put entirely at the service of the emotions that run through his characters.

How was the idea for this film born?
The idea for this film dates back to 2017, at the time I was approached by Orisa Hirata, a playwright I know well, because I am a member of his theater troupe. He presented me with one of his best-known pieces called Tokyo Note. Much of the play takes place in a museum in Tokyo. He told me that he had discovered a very impressive museum in Okayama prefecture, in the city of Nagi, a contemporary art museum. He wondered if I could adapt his play using this Nagi museum as a setting, pretending that this museum was in Tokyo. I went to Nagi. The museum is indeed magnificent, but I told myself that it was a shame to limit myself to the museum. So I had the idea of ​​completely transposing the story into the town of Nagi and I chose to emancipate myself a little from the play to write a completely original scenario. This is how the idea for the film was initially born.

Why did you choose to feature a female sculptor?
When it came to filming in Nagi, which is in a very rural area, I wanted to show what the daily life of the people who live there, in these territories, in these countrysides was like. The fact of portraying a woman who lives alone also allowed me to explore many questions. Japan is still an extremely patriarchal society, and I was interested in showing how patriarchy continues to be exercised, particularly in these rural regions, where it is still very prevalent, much more than in the cities.

And for sculpture, it was initially a very instinctive choice. I wanted this relationship between the artist and his model, because I find it very cinematic. I liked the idea of ​​being able to film this distance, this relationship, this relationship between the artist and his model. But I found that the painter was already seen and so I chose sculpture. And when I started to work a little on Nagi, to do research on this city, I realized that sculpture was a tradition in the region, that this activity lent itself extremely well to the environment in which the character lived. Obtaining wood can be very expensive for an artist who lives in Tokyo, and then there is the question of noise pollution and space, how to store his equipment, how to store his works, etc. While there, nature and his living environment really allow him to devote himself to this activity without these worries, and so going to Nagi really confirmed that this choice that I had made instinctively was the right choice.

You translate feelings on screen that are very delicate, very interior, how did you think about the staging to be able to transmit these emotions and these feelings?
If there is one point that I really paid attention to, it was to be as discreet as possible, to ensure that the scene faded to allow the camera to capture as much as possible the nuances of the characters’ emotions. And I didn’t want to simplify things. In fiction, we tend to want to explain, to make legible the emotions and feelings that run through the characters. I want to be able to restore emotions in their natural state. Sometimes someone is near us and we don’t know what they’re thinking. It remains impenetrable to the other. Rather than trying to codify, simplify, popularize it, I wanted to be able to restore this complexity. This is why I try to place myself in the third person and keep a certain distance from the characters to be able to let things express themselves in the tiniest nuances.

You also play a lot in your staging with the landscapes, the settings and even the weather, why?
In Japan, we generally have little money to make films, we can’t afford to reconstruct everything. So as much as possible, most of the time I make sure to welcome whatever happens weather-wise. But sometimes there are key moments when I really need the weather to be good. For example, for this sequence approximately in the middle of the film where there are musicians playing music, I absolutely wanted there to be sunshine, for it to be very beautiful. And so, I remember that we waited a little over two hours for the sun to come out from behind the clouds because it seemed really important to me not to make concessions on this scene. I find that sometimes, in fact, time and light can help a lot to express a state of mind, in any case a mood in the characters. So I try to take into account these external elements which can nourish the narrative.

At the end of the film, there is a little song about opening a window so you can see the flowers blooming and smell their scent. Did the characters in the film also open a window, how did these few days change their lives?
It’s interesting this connection that you make between the characters and the song, because in fact I wanted this change, for it to be credible, to be imperceptible. Maybe I’m skeptical, but I find it hard to believe that someone can change dramatically overnight, or in just a few days. The most obvious change is that of Yuri. We know that she will move from a passive position to a more active position, and that she will make choices for herself in her life, which she did not do before because she lived in the shadow of her husband. For the other three characters, Keita, Haruki and Keita, this change is more discreet. It’s the possibility, perhaps, of opening the window where they didn’t open it before. And that’s enough for me. The idea was that perhaps something had been set in motion, but changes are never radical, and especially not in such a short time.

In this spirit, there is this magnificent scene of the declaration of love which is made through the dark room. What did you want to say with this scene?
Honestly, I didn’t try to give a symbolic meaning to this scene. I really like the “camera obscura”. I often use it in workshops to talk about images. And I really like this slightly fuzzy upside down world. I find that this always results in things that are visually very beautiful. This is why I wanted to use the darkroom for the most important scene in the film: this declaration of love between the two boys. The fact that she was standing in such a small space, I thought it was quite pretty. In fact I think it was just the desire that these two things important to me could be brought together in the same scene.

Is the LGTB issue taboo in Japan?
We talked about patriarchy earlier. Women are the most exposed to patriarchy, with what it can generate in terms of oppression and pressure. But it is also a pressure that is exerted on men, in particular on young men, even more so if they are homosexual.

In your film you compare two generations on this question of homosexuality, why?
I found it interesting to put the questions that Yoriko had at the age of the two young boys into perspective. The fact of treating two generations in parallel, a slightly older woman and two younger boys, made it possible to give a little relief and above all to underline the fact that things have not changed that much.

In the film, time is also punctuated by the sound of shots from the neighboring training camp, what did you want to say with that?
There really is a military base in Nagi, and so there are shooting exercises that take place every day, and that’s why we hear the detonations all day long. The lives of the inhabitants there are very much conditioned by the activity of the military base. It’s part of their daily life, and as I was filming their daily life, I really wanted to integrate it as it is. At the moment, there is a lot of talk about the war in Ukraine, but there are conflicts all over the world. And even if Japan is not currently directly concerned by conflicts, the presence of the self-defense forces in this military base and their exercises are also a reminder of the fact that humanity is constantly confronted with wars, and that we must prepare for them.

You have already been to Cannes, but this is the first time that you are there in official competition, what does that represent for you?
I am obviously very honored that my film was selected in competition. Places are extremely rare, and if the committee decided to project him, it is because he has the required qualities. I am very touched, very moved. As a film buff, I have seen a lot of films that have passed through the festival, and so I understand what an opportunity this represents. But I have also seen many films of great quality which were not selected at Cannes. Passage here is not obligatory. I’m here today, but that doesn’t mean I’ll still be here tomorrow. So I don’t want to be too euphoric either, I want to keep my head on my shoulders. For me, the most important thing is to be able to continue making films and working as I have always done.