Interview - The Man Behind The Monster: Hirokazu Kore-eda

CR: Courtesy NETFLIX

The following interview was transcribed and edited for length and clarity within the context of the editor’s feature piece. Content and context revolved around an in-person one-on-one discussion with filmmaker, Hirokazu Kore-eda during the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival.


I remember the first time I watched a Hirokazu Kore-eda film. It was on Netflix. I had no prior knowledge of Kore-eda, his filmography or what to expect. I just clicked play.

I cried.

No hyperbole, no exaggeration. I was enthralled, engulfed, and absolutely emotionally captivated across its two-hour runtime. Kore-eda’s Like Father, Like Son, was quiet tour-de-force, it was a story about two families from two different walks of life – socially, economically, and even in their goals and perspectives. When the families find out that the sons, they have been raising for years are not theirs – they are faced with the dilemma of continuing raising them as their son(s) or finding their biological sons and switching them back.

Years later, I found myself at the 2016 iteration of the Toronto International Film Festival, waiting outside the Isabel Bader theatre on a brisk fall afternoon. I locked eyes with a reserved gentleman at the top of the queue – he was Japanese, salt and pepper hair and a gentle smile. It was Hirokazu Kore-eda. I smiled and bowed in acknowledgement as Mr. Kore-eda followed. It was his North American Premiere of After the Storm.

Like Father, Like Son (2013). Courtesy of Mubi

Flash forward to the 2023 Festival, the queue between Mr. Kore-eda and I has disappeared. Here I am and here he is, a mere foot or so of distance between us. Tucked away in the chambers of a meeting room on King Street in Toronto, I am seated across one of the most celebrated directors of modern international cinema; a gentle soul in his humble nature, Hirokazu Kore-eda. His newest feature, Monster celebrated its world premiere at the 76th Cannes Film Festival in early 2023 where it was in competition for the Palme d’Or and was celebrated with the Queer Palm and the winner for Best Screenplay. Mr. Kore-eda decided to bring Monster to Toronto for its North American premiere.

Across the vast seas of international cinema, Hirokazu Kore-eda is an unsuspecting hurricane, a tempest of emotional control, authenticity, and catharsis. Acclaimed in his perceptive dissection of the human condition, hearts and minds; Kore-eda has built a career in exploring narratives and stories that are endearing, socially relevant, powerful and monumental in its gentle scope, intimacy and authenticity. Kore-eda is a modern master of restraint, subtlety, and nuance; his films transcend socio-cultural boundaries, inviting audiences around the world into a reflection of the human condition.

It is only fitting to find that Kore-eda’s early career was marked with television documentaries, a precursor to the humanist and authentic reflections of reality he would portray in narrative film-making. In the ‘90s, Kore-eda began his career with Mabarosi and then After Life, a poignant film about memory and the fleeting notion of life after death. The film marked the beginning of what would become Kore-eda’s signature thematic ideologies in its delicate, precise storytelling and intimacy in its exploration of the lives of his characters. He would continue this notion of family throughout his career; often self-reflective and challenging in dynamics of human relationships, Kore-eda continued his realist narratives with Nobody Knows, Still Walking and my personal favourite, Like Father, Like Son. Kore-eda, confident in his understanding and vision of life and narrative, builds his reputation as a seismic emotional storyteller among his peers. He is devout to his imitation of life with such grace, authenticity and honesty.

In 2019, Kore-eda was awarded the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival with his universally lauded Shoplifters, which went on to be Japan’s nominee for Best International Foreign film at the 2019 Academy Awards. Focused on a make-shift family living on the fringes of society; Kore-eda again reinforces the enduring love and bonds in the relationships that connect different people together. His latest feature, Monster continues his foray into the hearts and minds of humanity. After a mother discovers strange behaviour from her son, she begins an exploration of her son’s school, teachers, and community to find the root cause of such concern. A delicate film about both the viciousness and the beauty of the human experience, Kore-eda gently balances the dynamic of human emotions across a multitude of complexities.

Mr. Kore-eda, one of the most fascinating recurring aspects throughout all of your films – and one that has almost always drawn me into your stories – is family. Whether it would be the bonds of family, the challenges between families or the innate desire to create families – what would you say inspires you to continually return to the concept of families film after film?

Kore-eda: I don’t see my films as family drama(s) per se. What really intrigues me is when an individual is impacted by the changes within the family – and that causes a real change in [an] individual’s role within that family. In the case of Like Father, Like Son, when [Ryota] is faced with the predicament between his children; his role becomes something different in that process. In any case, [in any of my films] the role of the individual has changed and to me, that is what is especially interesting.


It fascinates me immensely; the way Kore-eda explores the idea of a family unit – a defined connection between individuals, bound by blood, love or circumstance, all begins at how the role of an individual can change. Their very being, their drive and their perception of the world can all change in an instant; whether it would be revelation of accidental circumstance, or a perspective that was unknown to someone at one point in time and/or a missed opportunity due to indecisiveness or fear – one’s own world can shift in that very moment. The idea of family is a dynamic that to Kore-eda that is seemingly fluid. A bond that is defined by society but shaped by those within that makeshift family circle.

It becomes interesting to note that over the course of his illustrious career, Kore-eda has written all but two of his films; Maborosi, his first film and now his latest film, Monster, which was penned by fellow writer, Yuji Sakamoto. Monster felt both fresh, thrilling, and exciting as almost a rebranding of Kore-eda’s naturalistic flair, but also deeply rooted in the thematic motifs, recurring ideas and concepts that is wholeheartedly the foundation of a Hirokazu Kore-eda film.

Mr. Kore-eda, Monster, like your other work, is as profoundly beautiful, devastating, and absolute in its message and vision. Being only the 2nd film in your filmography that is not distinctly written by you, tell us about your experience in working with Yuji Sakamoto – and why specifically this project?

Kore-eda: I’d had already indicated in many times before that if I were not to write a script, the only person I would work with would be Yuji Sakamoto. We had often met together and have had many discussions with each other as part of different projects. Especially in magazines and other things, they’d ask us to talk to each other and during those discussions we had often said that we would love to collaborate. At the end of 2018, I was approached to collaborate on a script that Yuji Sakamoto had created. I didn’t even even read the script, but I had immediately said “Yes”.

Monster (2023)

Monster feels unique in both its familiarity and distinctiveness when approaching it from Kore-eda’s filmography. The film is often compared to Rashomon; a challenging vision that incorporates a multitude of character point-of-view and perspectives that form a structure and foundation of narrative tension, progression and ultimately a satisfying conclusion. Kore-eda and Sakamoto structures Monster similarly in the sense of its chapter-book feel, almost beckoning to that of an Asghar Farhadi film. A page-turner that is deeply rooted in intricate character drama and emotion but progresses with the ferocity and drive of a mystery and thriller film. Monster feels almost transitory, especially in the context of Kore-eda’s career. It feels contemporary, explicit, and implicit in Kore-eda’s voice and vision, an evolution of directorial mastery and a step-forward in what is already a celebrated, lauded and distinguished career.

Mr. Kore-eda, your filmography is widely known to be a prime example of humanist and realist filmmaking; from its cinematography to the performances – each of your films feels as if they are a direct mirror reflection of our real world. How do you approach your filmmaking in terms of structure and perspective?

Kore-eda: So up to now, I believe the way that I had structured my films is that we had the characters and their respective relationships between them. My films depict the daily lives of these characters, and their interactions form the structure of my films. Whereas in Monster, it felt as though the narrative came first and it was very clear that the storytelling from the start was much more pronounced. It felt much more formalized in my approach. It felt very interesting to make [Monster] that way.

It becomes interesting to note of how Kore-eda seemingly approaches Monster; a film that suitably feels like his most cinematic work to date, yet distinctly restrained and intimate in execution. One of the most distinguishable traits of a Hirokazu Kore-eda film is his patient, omniscient, almost voyeuristic observational cinematography. His camera lingers extensively on wide and close-up shots, hardly employing the use of steadi-cam or whip pans and tilts; his films feel as invitations for the audience to be a part of the lives of his characters – their daily routines, their rituals, their celebrations, their failures, and their romances. Kore-eda’s films are intimately humane, emphasizing the beauty of the simplicity (and arguably, complexities) of our own lives. In Our Little Sister, After the Storm and even Still Walking all feel explicitly natural and unconventional in its representation of cinema. His films feel absolute in restraint but integral in purpose and precise in focus. Kore-eda forgoes spectacle and even melodramatic climaxes in favour of quiet reflective contemplation, empathy and universality of ideologies, perspectives, and philosophies. Monster feels less contemplative in its narrative progression and unique spectacle of perspective and structure, but still carries many of the distinct elements that Kore-eda has mastered.

Shoplifters (2018)

             Kore-eda’s nuanced storytelling is an unwavering testament to his dedication to his craft; a commitment to authentic representation and his magnetic ability in capturing beauty, empathy, and intimacy in the most simplistic mediations of the cinematic medium. Kore-eda’s films are landmark achievements and arguably a foundational structure of how cinema can be used to invite, inspire, and reflect on the complexities, intricacies and sometimes, the simplicities of human experience. Through the lens of his seemingly ordinary characters living what many may argue as mundane or humble lives; his filmography extrapolates how the ordinary to one person can be perceived as extraordinary, fascinating and/or remarkable in the eyes of his international audience(s).

Kore-eda’s films are shared experiences; tethered by an intangible connection, a thematic remediation of our own understanding of the world around us. There are tidal waves of emotion that can overwhelm and overcome us in our lives and Kore-eda challenges his audience to experience these wholeheartedly. It feels comforting to recognize that the characters that Kore-eda crafts and explores are as human as we are – they feel, they laugh, they cry and they sing. It never feels too much like a movie, but almost like a memory.

Mr. Kore-eda, one of the most interesting elements that I resonate with your films is almost a nostalgic feeling of memory. I feel emotionally connected to each and every character – there are scenes that feel distinctively powerful and reminiscent of my own life – I liken them to almost seeing a long lost photograph or memory boxes filled with my past. I don’t know if this is something that you feel when making your films, but is their a similar feeling or thought that you have when you continue to make films or look back on them?

Kore-eda: All of them I feel are distinctively different, but somehow, all of them feel interconnected.

Monster is his latest feature and is now playing in select cinemas in the United States and Canada.


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Rafael Cordero

Rafael Cordero is a writer, educator and assistant director in the Toronto Film and Television Industry. Maybe one day he’ll be the next Paul Thomas Anderson…or Danny McBride. When he’s not stuck on set or being a Letterboxd critic, you can find him at the movies or getting attacked on the Layered Butter Podcast.

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