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The film adaptation of Yoshida Shuichi's original novel, "Kokuho" (National Treasure), which spans over 170 minutes and was directed by Lee Sang-il, has made a huge impact on the Japanese and international film community. Proudly winning 17 awards from the Japan Academy Awards, including two "Best Actor" awards for the lead actors; three "Best Supporting Actress" awards; three "Best Supporting Actor" awards; and the prestigious "Best Picture" award, among other categories, "Kokuho" has officially become the highest-grossing film in Japan to date.
Earning 20 billion yen (US$128 million) in its short run, Kokuho is a nearly three-hour film that portrays the lives and intertwined beauty and pain of artists pursuing Kabuki – a traditional Japanese theatrical art form.
Earning 20 billion yen (128 million USD) in a short time since its release, Kokuho is a nearly three-hour-long story that portrays the lives, beauty, and profound suffering of artists pursuing Kabuki theater – a traditional Japanese theatrical art form.
With the participation of veteran actors such as Ryo Yoshizawa, Yokohama Ryusei, Koshiyama Keitatsu, Kurokawa Soya (playing young Kikuo), Mikami Ai… Kokuho received high expectations from critics and a large audience. Living up to everyone's expectations, the drama aired with breathtakingly beautiful cinematography, close-up shots, and an exquisitely detailed and layered plot that kept viewers engaged for an extended period.
The sun is shining brightly.
The film opens with a scene of a young Kikuo passionately performing in the play Seki no to, playing the role of a cherry blossom spirit disguised as a courtesan seeking revenge. Sitting in the audience, Hanai Hanjiro II, a veteran and renowned kabuki actor of the time, is stunned and somewhat curious about the identity of this young actor.
The story seemed destined to continue peacefully, but immediately after the performance, Kikuo Toichiro's father—a notorious Yakuza gang leader—was murdered, and his attempt to avenge his father failed. From that long night of resentment and pain, Kikuo tattooed an owl on his back, which he considered a symbol of gratitude and reciprocity, and gradually embarked on a new chapter in his life.
The film follows the characters over half a century, from the 1960s to 2014.
The moment Hanjiro decided to take Kikuo as his apprentice, it seemed as if the dawn of Kikuo's early life was beginning to break. He and Shunsuke, the master's son, ate, slept, studied, and endured rigorous tests together, practicing dances that forced both young men to become more supple, graceful, and flexible than even women. They were both kabuki actors belonging to the onnagta school (male actors specializing in female roles).
The first moment of artistic brilliance for the two boys, and the first brilliant rays of sunshine in Toichiro's life, was when they performed together in a famous kabuki play. That radiant sun shone brightly for a long time in Toichiro's life, as he not only displayed an astonishing acting talent but also became increasingly skilled through intense practice. His legs were as supple as dough, his hands gracefully curved, and his body fluidly performed kabuki movements as if they had long been ingrained in his blood. Kikuo continued to perform, living under the admiring and apprehensive gazes of those around him, and gradually shone brightly.
One day, when his master fell ill, a role he had to replace had to be filled. Everyone expected him to choose his beloved son, Shunsuke, but he unexpectedly chose his apprentice. Those around him secretly criticized him for selfishness, and directed resentful glances at his ambitious adopted son, who was using his talent to buy his way out of debt of gratitude. Kikuo took on his first major leading role as Ohatsu, a woman torn between love and death in The Love Suicides at Sonezaki. He poured his heart and soul into portraying a mix of happiness and bitter sorrow. Because of this performance, Shunsuke, sitting in the audience, was so shocked that he ran out of the theater and left home, remaining away for over eight years.
And Kikuo's bright sun gradually faded when Shunsuke disappeared, only to flare up again brilliantly when Hanjiro inherited the title of Third Hokage, choosing him to carry on the family's generations-old kabuki legacy.
From this point on, the fading sunlight swept Kukio into the deepest abyss of her life.
setting sun
One cannot help but admire the director and screenwriter for conveying a cinematic epic imbued with poetry, charm, and skill, yet subtly revealing the cruelty and coldness of life. Sofian El Fani's meticulous and careful cinematography produces visually rich and vibrant shots, magnificent and painterly, with strong, contrasting colors on stage. This contrasts sharply with the gloomy, contemplative, and gray everyday scenes, further emphasizing the harshness and rawness that the main character faces. This cinematography serves as a gentle metaphor for that harsh and arduous life.
Kokuho reflects the dark side of contemporary society, where power and prestige were implicitly attributed to men.
Kikuo faced life's hardships early in life, growing up withdrawn and indebted to someone who wasn't his blood relative, coupled with his cold yakuza bloodline, which gave him a deep understanding of how the world works. In one scene where Kikuo takes his daughter Ayano to a temple, he prays to the devil for the ultimate kabuki performance talent:
"I'm not begging God, I'm bargaining with the devil… I'm asking the devil to help me become the best kabuki actor in Japan. I'm willing to give everything I have."
Kikuo is straightforward with life; he doesn't want to "beg" for anything from the gods, but is willing to negotiate and bargain with dark forces to get what he needs. He is frank, practical, and loses the purest beliefs in his life when he doesn't appeal to God.
This glimpse into director Lee Sang-il's inner world allows us to better understand Kikuo's character. And when we witness the setting sun and his long, agonizing nights, we truly see how harsh life can be to the devastation inflicted upon artists who dedicate themselves wholeheartedly to the stage.
As the sun set, Kikuo lost his fame and public affection. He wandered to bars and restaurants, performing kabuki to make a living. Far from the dazzling stage lights, he was now left with only the dim, yellowish lights of the establishments and drunken, rude customers who had no understanding of kabuki.
Overwhelmed with grief and exhaustion, Kikuo ignored his smudged makeup and disheveled clothes and ran to the rooftop where he gulped down alcohol and wept uncontrollably. He fled the mundane stage that wasn't meant for him, escaped a harsh reality, and found himself lost in a state of aimless confusion, unsure of his future. He had lost his co-star and longtime friend Shun, his mentor, and the professional spotlight, but his love for kabuki seemed to have never faded.
The glorious peak
And then, the sun of Kabuki theater shone brightly again. The splendor, magic, and dazzling lights of the stage once more propelled him to a glorious golden age, making him a "national treasure of Kabuki acting" in Japan and perhaps the world.
He and Shun reenacted the play they had performed together in their public debut. At this point, both Shun and he were completely devoted to their art. Shunsuke, with his frail body, almost crawled onto the stage to fully embody the role of Ohatsu. Kikuo, meanwhile, played the male lead, her lover. Shunsuke's performance was one of gradual collapse on stage, much like a father who vomits blood on stage while handing over his title to the next generation. Shunsuke's role was also incredibly beautiful and an indispensable part of Kikuo's early years in theater.
The dazzling beauty of the makeup and costumes in the film earned Kokuho an Oscar nomination for Best Costume Design and Makeup. The meticulousness of kabuki acting, coupled with the precision of the movements and the elaborate appearance, partly illustrates the extreme difficulty of this profession. And Kikuo played the role perfectly, gradually rising to the glorious pinnacle of his life.
He became a new national treasure of acting, with each kabuki play such as Heron Maiden, The Love Suicides at Sonezaki, Wisteria Maiden… being adored by the public. And in his final play, "The Crane Maiden," he once again rediscovered the moment that had captivated him when he first performed on stage. The shimmering, ethereal moments on stage were what initially drew him deeper into kabuki, but later, looking back, he gradually understood that they were not only beautiful but also contained the pain of an artist's life, "spinning their heart and soul" on stage. Such beauty is hard to find, hard to grasp, and once captured, alas, how much bitterness and endless suffering must have been involved to create that artistic beauty.
Kokuho concludes with final scenes on stage where Kikuo, in his role as the "national treasure," gracefully walks under the glittering lights. He wears a white robe, his eyes now dimmed by time but still shining with a burning desire to live and die for his craft. The film vividly portrays the spirit of traditional Japanese kabuki, sparking increasing interest in this art form among young people both domestically and internationally. This is not only a success for the filmmaking team but also a source of pride for Japanese cinema, which is renowned for its beautiful and profound films.
