Newsletter No.
1428
News-Analysis
August 2, 2009
JAPANESE FILMMAKER
REFLECTS ON LIFE, ETHICS, AND AFGHAN TIES
The Mainichi Shinbun
published a feature today which may be worthy of our attention.
The story concerns an elderly Japanese filmmaker named Rentaro
Mikuni and footage he shot in Afghanistan in 1972. The piece
says that this footage is being developed into a film that
will be completed later this year.
It is unclear how much this
film will relate to Japan-Afghan relations, as the filmmaker
seems much more interested in existential questions relating
to humanity as a whole. On the other hand, it does signify
an episode of Japanese interactions with Afghanistan before
the July 1973 Kabul coup, which led to the many years of tragedy
that followed. Also, it is a testament to the Japanese interest
in the Bamiyan Buddhas.
Finally, Mr. Mikuni has some
pronounced views about the significance of Article Nine of
the Japanese Constitution, which are based on his own life
experience. His kind of view has largely been suppressed within
the elite debates in recent years.
Recently-Discovered Afghanistan Footage Speaks Strongly
Rentaro Mikuni interviewed by Tetsuko Yoshida
Mainichi Shinbun
August 2, 2009
In the vast crimson wastelands
of Afghanistan, a Japanese man walks with a young Afghani
boy, searching for their own lost utopia. The man, playing
a doctor losing his son to disease, is Rentaro Mikuni -- a
renowned Japanese actor who has appeared in over 200 films
and TV dramas, and now at age 86 is still eager to carry on
his profession. The scene is from an unfinished film that
he directed in Afghanistan in 1972, the footage of which was
recently discovered in Tokyo.
Mikuni is now trying to put
the pieces of 5 1/2-hour-long footage together, recalling
the danger-fraught days of shooting under the blazing sun
in Pakistan and Afghanistan. The film -- titled "Kishi
no Nai Kawa" (The Endless Stream) -- will be completed
later this year, and the director hopes it will provide a
clue to his long-held questions about the meaning of life
that lured him into a soul-searching journey of filmmaking.
"Before I shot this film,
I was dead broke, living in a rented house and deserting my
wife and son," recalled Mikuni during a recent interview
with the Mainichi. "I was around 49 or 50 then. I guess
human beings come to reflect on themselves at one point of
their life, pondering where they originally come from, and
I think I was just at that stage."
Ironically, the young Afghani
boy called Nabi, who played the role of an orphan named Mehdi
in the film, was aged at 12 at the time -- the same age as
the son Mikuni left behind in Japan. His estranged son Koichi
Sato eventually followed the footsteps of his father, becoming
one of the leading actors in Japan.
"First of all, I want
to show the film to my son, who is now about the same age
that I was when I shot it," said Mikuni. "Then,
I want to show it to many people as well, especially the younger
generation, so that they can realize what they should do for
those to come. It's not that I have realized it myself, but
I shot the film because I was about to realize it."
Mikuni doesn't talk much about
the details of the film -- his second ever as a director --
but believes the film has an important meaning for modern
times.
"I shot the film a long
time ago, but since then, I've felt that we are experiencing
some enormous pressure that we cannot see, a force that is
geared toward the wrong direction. I hope screening the film
at this crucial time will convey various messages: I believe
it can provide the human warmness, or even social awareness,
that's missing in the present era," says Mikuni.
Born in Gunma Prefecture in
1923, Mikuni was deployed to China during World War II, after
his desperate attempts to dodge the draft failed.
"Of course, the experience
of war is a major part of my memories from my youth, but I
found it meaningless to every individual involved. I even
wonder what in the world their sacrifices were for. But in
the meantime, I also find it's a sort of 'karma' or 'emptiness'
that human beings tend to repeat over and over again. It even
makes me question what the battle for survival is all about…
For me, war is an experience, but I wonder why people don't
realize how they're blinded to mass murder when it's justified
by a cause," he said.
As someone who survived the
war while many comrades in arms fell on the battleground,
and who after the war made an acting debut in the early 1950s,
Mikuni has tried to convey his hopes for peace through his
acting -- whose works range from the suspense film "Kiga
Kaikyo" (1965) to the recent comedy serial "Tsuribaka
Nisshi" -- and has put a great value on the Japanese
Constitution's pacifist Article 9.
"Article 9 is a social
imperative that was built on the flesh and blood of the many
people who were sacrificed (in the war). To let such a social
imperative fall apart is a serious crime committed by people
today who disregard that sacrifice… I'm not a scholar,
so I'm not sure if I understand the provisions correctly,
but if there are people who try to monopolize specific interests
by seeking loopholes in the text (of Article 9), I would call
them criminals to human society," Mikuni said.
The film's shooting locations
extended from Karachi in Pakistan to Kabul and Kandahar in
Afghanistan, including near the gigantic Buddhist monuments
in Bamiyan -- nearly 30 years before they were destroyed by
the Taliban.
"Throughout Asia prevails
the influence of Buddhism. Buddhism teaches us to live for
the sake of a large indefinite number of people, and in order
to propagate the teaching, the 50-meter-high monument was
built in Afghanistan," says Mikuni. "Destroying
the Buddha's images means that human beings have returned
to the primitive state. I guess those monuments can eventually
be restored some day, but it may take hundreds of years, or
perhaps even a thousand years. It was one of the major incidents
that overturned human history," he said.
Mikuni's interest in Buddhism
resurfaced in another film he directed, titled "Shinran:
Shiroi Michi" (Shinran: Path to Purity), which won the
Jury Prize at the Cannes International Film Festival in 1987.
For Mikuni, what does the
title of the 1972 film, "Kishi no Nai Kawa" -- which
literally means "a river without banks" in Japanese
-- mean?
"Riverbanks represent
reason and something close to human ethics. If they are missing,
a river gets flooded, bringing about many casualties. But
while banks are supposed to prevent a river from flooding,
I think they entail other negative effects. Fundamentally,
I think banks are not necessary. They are an ultimate absurdity,"
Mikuni said.
"Can you tell who takes
the responsibility for the sacrifices that were paid to build
the riverbanks? Those who are successful don't care about
the sacrifices, but only think about the enormous profits
they would gain. To me, it seems as if everyone is living
on human flesh to become affluent. I don't know much about
the theory of socialism or capitalism, but I believe capitalism
is about redistribution. There must be individual responsibility
for redistribution, which seems to be lacking in human society
today."
Over the past years, Mikuni
hoped to be reunited with the young Afghani co-actor, but
has no idea where he is living now. Mikuni's yearning to see
him again recently brought him to the Embassy of Afghanistan
in Tokyo to ask the ambassador for help in finding him.
By the time a documentary
TV program chronicling the process of editing the film for
possible completion is broadcast by WOWOW sometime in October,
Mikuni hopes to finally locate his co-actor, whom he felt
as if his another son.