After Kokuho's Italy premiere to critical acclaim, director Lee Sang-il reflects on kabuki, outsiderhood, and identity shaped by art and ambition.
Kokuho Udine FEFF

A scene from "Kokuho." (Courtesy of Far East Film Festival)

Italy—the homeland of opera and theater. Even here, in the small, usually sleepy northern town of Udine, Kokuho created ripples among locals and foreigners gathered for the 28th Far East Film Festival.

The Italian premiere of Lee Sang-il's three-hour kabuki epic took place in Udine's magnificent Teatro Nuevo opera house, and it was simply impossible to ignore the astoundingly theatrical effect of this pairing. Even without much prior knowledge of kabuki theatre, the audience here gave a 15-minute standing ovation. 

So, did Lee expect the film to resonate so much at an international level? Turns out he hadn't given the notion much thought.

"Kokuho" director Lee Sang-il. (Courtesy of Far East Film Festival)

'My Base Is Always Japan'

"People are interested in the inner life and cruelty of a kabuki actor in the day-to-day," he said, speaking after the screening. "I never think about [how well my films will do] at an international level. My base is always Japan. If that base is well-established, then I can see it working at an international level."

People in Udine seemed aware of the film's success back home, where it grossed ¥20 billion ($130.8 million) to become the biggest-grossing Japanese live action film of all time and a cultural phenomenon. They may have also heard about how the film took a full 15 years to research, train the actors, and finally produce. 

What they did not know was the huge commercial risk involved in making a three-hour film about a traditional art form, slowly fading from public consciousness and general knowledge in Japan.   

But for Lee, this did not matter. "People didn't have to know about Kabuki to feel [what it's like on the inside of the craft]," he said. "It connected with [especially young] people because there are rivalries, friendships, dreams, human elements." 

A scene from "Kokuho." (Courtesy of Far East Film Festival)

The Making of a 'National Treasure'

Based on Shuichi Yoshida's novel of the same name, Kokuho is a tale of ambition, revenge, and sacrifice—and ultimately, art in its purest form. 

Spanning over 50 years of their lives, the film spotlights the sometimes rivalrous, sometimes soulmate-like relationship between Kikuo (Ryo Yoshizawa)—an orphaned boy raised in a yakuza family—and Shunsuke (Ryusei Yokohama), the heir to a kabuki legacy. 

This rivalry is born when Hanai Hanjiro II (Ken Watanabe) chooses Kikuo as his onnagata apprentice over his own son, and the film charts Kikuo's painstaking rise to become a true kokuho (or "national treasure"). 

Fast-forward to the end of the FEFF screening, and a middle-aged northern Italian woman left the theatre summing up the mood: "It touches on many parts of life—it's beautiful."

It is the humanity of this film that carries it across borders, cultures, and languages. Lee believes audiences both from within and outside Japan can recognize the passion and the politics at play.

"I don't think anyone can become a national treasure just because they want to, so it depends on how authentic you can be in your desire and your impulse," explained Lee. "If you can devote your whole life to it, then you might get close."

An Outsider's Path to Recognition

In the film, Kikuo is an outsider—removed from both the hierarchical structure of inherited legacy in kabuki and alienated as the son of a yakuza boss. Both elements stigmatize his ability to gain "kokuho" status yet he still does so by the end of the film. It's a position Lee recognizes given his own life story.

"As a Korean born in Japan, I have the possibility to think about the shape of Japan as a foreign person. I can therefore perceive Japan by using some of my perspective," Lee explained.

An outsider becoming an insider—this is the position that international audiences take up as they are immersed in the film. This enables the audience to feel what the characters feel, to be on the inside with them. 

The film confronts the complex psychological nature of being an actor (and maybe even a human being, too)—who are we when we remove our masks? 

A scene from "Kokuho." (Courtesy of Far East Film Festival)

Finding a 'Form'

Comparing Kokuho with Hula Girls (2006), another of his films exploring how theatre communicates identity, Lee said: "With kabuki, you have a constant search for a form. [It] is very conceptual—it's not possible to explain this simply. The motivation is very different [from Hula Girls]. I wanted to show a more obscure element of human nature."

Lee's desire to portray a more enigmatic, complex side of human nature is perhaps another reason why Kokuho resonates so deeply with global audiences. It's widely felt, now more than ever, that people are searching for purpose or a true sense of identity in this fast-paced, disorienting digital era.

Look then to the soft, stylized, conceptual form of kabuki which allows its actors to express true, unrestrained emotions to the maximum degree—all in the safety net of a stage and fictional story. It makes sense that audiences today are understanding this feeling, and perhaps want to find this "form" for themselves.

But Lee stresses that kabuki "is a way to capture your own identity" instead of a way to simply express that identity. To him, it is a place where actors can find themselves and to feel not so lost in the world.

Does the veteran director—after all the effort and the years put into the movie—think he is reaching "kokuho" status himself?

Lee humbly says: "I am just arriving at the entrance."

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Author: Annabelle Duggan

Annabelle Duggan attended the 28th Far East Film Festival as part of the FEFF Campus for aspiring critics, writers, and film industry professionals.

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