For a film director, their first feature film is a crucible, a test of their artistic vision. It’s a chance to showcase their passion for storytelling, their unique directorial style, and their artistic sensibilities. It can also determine the trajectory of their future career. Sora Ku, who has previously directed the short film ‘The Chicken’ and the concert documentary ‘Ryuichi Sakamoto | Opus,’ makes his feature film debut with ‘HAPPYEND.’ This film premiered at the 81st Venice International Film Festival in September, catapulting Ku onto the world stage. Set in a near-future Tokyo, ‘HAPPYEND’ vividly captures the lives of a group of high school friends on the cusp of adulthood. It’s a film that feels deeply personal to Ku, reflecting his own experiences and anxieties about the future.
Ku describes the film’s central theme as friendship, saying, “All stories, characters, and dialogue stem from the filmmaker’s own body. This film is born from my own thoughts and experiences.” Born in America and working from both New York and Tokyo, Ku explains the film’s genesis: “‘HAPPYEND’ is fundamentally about friendship. I wanted to make a film about youth, or more specifically, a ‘delinquent film.’ I simply love the genre. When you reach a position where you can make films, many are drawn to stories about the transition to adulthood, what’s called the ‘Coming of Age’ genre. My own film was sparked by events from my university days. I was compelled to make something that captured the feeling of losing a friend for political reasons, or conversely, the feeling of being left behind. It solidified the idea that friendship could be more important than family.”
Ku’s love for classic coming-of-age films is evident in the inspiration he drew from Nicolas Ray’s ‘Rebel Without a Cause,’ Edward Yang’s ‘A Brighter Summer Day,’ Hou Hsiao-hsien’s ‘The Boys from Fengkuei,’ and Tsai Ming-liang’s ‘The Juvenile,’ all of which inform the mood of ‘HAPPYEND.’
Through the lens of the film, we witness the genuine bonds of friendship and their inevitable disintegration. Yuta and Kou, along with Atchan, Min, and Tom, are five friends on the verge of graduating high school. However, Kou begins to feel a growing sense of alienation from society after their school implements an AI surveillance system. While Kou wrestles with these anxieties, Yuta embraces the remaining days of their youth with unbridled joy, causing a slow but painful rift in their friendship. Ku sheds light on the characters, saying, “Each of the five main characters is a blend of elements from myself and my friends. One character becomes politically awakened, while the other remains indifferent, leading to the breakdown of their relationship. While it’s primarily a story about friendship, it’s possible that the film carries a strong message by weaving in a political backdrop, though it wasn’t created solely for the purpose of delivering a message.”
Four of the five actors playing these close-knit friends are making their screen debuts. Their fresh energy fills the screen, but casting inexperienced actors was undoubtedly a gamble for Ku. “The success of this film hinges on the cast. Out of the five main characters, four are acting for the first time. It wasn’t a deliberate choice to work with newcomers, but many of those who captivated us during the audition process happened to be inexperienced. To guide them, I consulted with Ryusuke Hamaguchi, who has also directed actors with no prior experience. I incorporated his advice, as well as elements of the Meisner technique, which I found personally intriguing. It’s a method about how to live authentically within an imagined setting. While playing characters with different lives, the Meisner method involves reacting to another person’s dialogue and actions as if they were your own. We held a workshop a month before filming to focus on this approach, and the five actors became incredibly close. They even went out to eat together without me knowing! (laughs) They were so close that after a three-day retreat at the same hotel just before filming, I realized I didn’t need to worry about them at all on camera. The friendship was already evident. It was truly lucky. My instinctual casting decisions paid off.”
Beyond the natural performances of the cast, ‘HAPPYEND’ showcases Ku’s unique cinematic sensibilities in every frame. The film’s use of music and sound design is particularly captivating. “I was aware of the importance of sound in film. While it might be argued that films without music are superior, I personally enjoy film music, especially music with distinct melodies. I’m drawn to music that doesn’t smoothly integrate with the visuals but rather hits you with a “bang.” In this film, I chose to incorporate music that feels like a reflection of my own emotions or those of the older Kou and Yuta, as they recall the events unfolding in the scene. These are songs with a hint of nostalgia, happy memories tinged with a sense of loss. Another aspect of sound is the use of silence. By strategically employing silence, I was able to create a sense of separation and isolation before and after certain scenes. It also serves to avoid triggering the audience during the earthquake scene.”
While Ku’s vision shines through in his first feature film, navigating the uncharted waters of filmmaking came with its own set of challenges. He reflects on how he overcame these obstacles, saying, “I’ve come to understand that filmmaking is a process of problem-solving. It requires creativity and a willingness to shift perspective. Production budget limitations can sometimes even spark creative solutions. Initially, we planned to film a scene where Kou participates in a protest, but time constraints and limitations on extras led us to cut it. This ultimately changed my perspective, and I realized there was something to be gained from not explicitly showing it. It allowed us to express Yuta’s feeling that Kou had disappeared into an invisible world. That’s what I consider a cinematic solution.”
Ku sets ‘HAPPYEND’ in a near-future Tokyo, showcasing a slightly altered landscape. Ku had conceived this film seven years ago, and his anxieties about the future have permeated the film’s narrative. “There’s definitely a sense of crisis in this film, a question of what will happen if society continues down this path. I’ve always had doubts about the structure of the state, and as I researched the authoritarian aspects of various countries, I became increasingly aware of the fragility of those in power. Despite this, surveillance systems are becoming increasingly robust. In Japan, many people are accepting things like My Number cards and facial recognition. And then there’s the deeply rooted issue of Japanese identity. It seems like many factors – race, nationality, birth, and even the ability to speak Japanese – are conflated to define what it means to be Japanese. Even if someone has lived in Japan for a long time, they might not be recognized as Japanese if they look like a foreigner. But how long do you have to live here to be considered Japanese? The categorization based on arbitrary differences, leading to discrimination in policies, is deeply violent.”
Ku’s aim is to evoke a sense of reflection by weaving into the narrative the realities of the world in 2024, including the threat of a major earthquake in Japan. “While researching the Korean massacre during the 1923 Great Kanto Earthquake, I became increasingly concerned that the same thing could happen if a major earthquake like the Nankai Trough earthquake struck again in the future. This feeling is also reflected in the formation of vigilante groups in Kawaguchi, Saitama Prefecture (where I’ve lived for decades) that discriminate against Kurds. I hope this film, created 101 years after the Great Kanto Earthquake, will inspire people to think about these things. Furthermore, it’s not just about visible violence. Japan’s military buildup, the genocide happening in Palestine, the connection between the minerals used in smartphones and the genocide in the Congo – our daily lives are built upon a structure of violence against others. We are all complicit in this, and that’s why I feel a constant desire to make a difference, even if it’s just a small step in the right direction.”
Ku is acutely aware of the potential impact a film can have on its viewers, saying, “A single film might change someone’s life.” However, he remains grounded in his assessment of cinema’s power: “I don’t have any unrealistic expectations for film, and I’m actually quite pessimistic about it. Few people actually take action after watching a film. I just happen to use film as a medium for expression. I’m not aiming to change anything about the world through my films, nor do I want to burden them with that responsibility. If something does change as a result, that’s great, but it’s not something I strive for.”
So, what has changed for Ku himself after making ‘HAPPYEND’? It’s his relationship with those closest to him. “The kind of breakdown of friendship caused by political differences that I portray in this film actually happened during the production process. I was furious with a friend who was making a film with me because he wasn’t openly protesting against the massacre in Palestine. However, what I learned was that communication is essential. With close friends, it can be easy to feel betrayed, but this film made me realize the importance of having open conversations.”
Regarding relationships that avoid political conversations, Ku is clear: “I wonder if relationships that don’t engage with these issues are even worth maintaining.”
Ku describes himself as “fundamentally pessimistic and negative.” “Personally, I’m incredibly despairing. But that’s why we have to fight, isn’t it? It’s easy to give up when you’re despairing, but it’s the younger generation who will be disadvantaged if we do. We need to hold onto some hope in order to survive.”
He also acknowledges a counterpoint to his pessimism: “When something terrible happens, it’s important to laugh about it. Even the people in Gaza find strength in laughter. Life is like that.”
He even extends this perspective to film: “Humor and comedy are inherently tools for criticizing power. There are fewer and fewer films that do this, and it’s something we need to reclaim.”
What kind of directorial journey awaits Ku after ‘HAPPYEND’? There’s a sense that his next project will be a completely different beast, a new masterpiece ready to be unleashed.
‘HAPPYEND’ opens in theaters on October 4th, 2024.
