Genki Kawamura and Takaaki Yamazaki: Input and Output. (Part 1)

As a film producer, Genki Kawamura has consecutively produced major hit films such as "Train Man," "Confessions," "Villain," "Mote-ki," "Wolf Children," "Parasyte," and "Bakuman." His novels, "If Cats Disappeared from the World" and "100 Million Man," were both nominated for the Bookstore Award and became bestsellers. His picture book "Tiny: The Story of a Balloon Dog" was adapted into an anime by NHK. Furthermore, he published the dialogue collection "Work." He continues to produce results while constantly taking on new challenges.

Meanwhile, Takaaki Yamazaki, known for creating unique commercials for brands like Recruit's Hot Pepper and Dai-Nichi Co., Ltd.'s Kinchōru, has long been fascinated by Kawamura's perspective and the process he uses to transform ideas into works. Though working in different genres, these two creators, constantly wrestling with expression, delve into each other's "input and output" in this first part of their conversation.

 

How Was Genki Kawamura Born?

Yamazaki: Mr. Kawamura, you achieved great success as a film producer at a young age. The day after I read '100 Million Man', I went to see kabuki at the Shimbashi Enbujo theater. There, sitting right in front of me, was Genki Kawamura in a kimono. I was so surprised I ended up chatting him up—that's how today's talk started. What was your childhood like, and what made you want to enter the world of film?

Kawamura: My parents didn't send me to kindergarten or daycare. We didn't have a TV at home either, so my Japanese was pretty shaky when I started elementary school. There was this defining moment for me: they told us to buy a clay board for clay work in class, so I bought a pink one at the stationery store. I figured since clay is usually dark, I'd get a nice-colored board. Then I got teased, called "the girl's color clay board." I'd never watched any TV superhero shows or anything like that, so I didn't know blue was a boy color and pink was a girl color. Looking back, that's probably when I developed this habit of questioning what's considered common sense.

Yamazaki: How did you encounter movies?

Kawamura: My father worked at Nikkatsu, so movies were part of my early education. We didn't have a TV, but I got to see films. The first movie I saw was E.T. I was three at the time, and it was a little scary, but I was deeply moved by the scene where the bicycle flies. That feeling of wonder stuck with me. I think because we didn't have a TV, each individual movie had a huge impact.

Yamazaki: Did you watch a lot of movies even as a child?

Kawamura: During high school and college, at my peak, I practically lived at the video store and watched about 500 movies a year. In college, there was a class where we made documentaries, but I always ended up making mine overly funny and exaggerated, and I was constantly getting scolded by the teacher. That's when I started thinking I was suited for entertainment, and after graduating, I joined Toho.

 

A Film Producer's "Principles of Planning"

Yamazaki: It's truly astonishing that you've produced so many hits at just 36. You made 'Train Man' at 26, right? How were you able to create it so young?

Kawamura: When I was 24, I was assigned to the planning department. Unlike my experienced seniors, I didn't have the clout to secure famous source material, I didn't know any directors, and I had no connections in the entertainment world. So I figured I had to find a loophole through the planning itself. That's when I started searching the internet for movie ideas and stumbled upon Train Man.

Yamazaki: So you focused on the internet and 2channel to compete with your seniors?

Kawamura: Back then, most film producers were in their 40s or older, so I figured they probably weren't looking at 2channel. Plus, I was lucky to have some great seniors. When I said I wanted to do "Train Man," several of them offered to help me with scriptwriting, casting, and finding a director.

Yamazaki: So, to clarify, what do you think the job of a film producer is?

Kawamura: It's been said since ancient times that content, not just films, is about "universality × timeliness." Human emotions like fear, laughter, and tears are "universal." But films, especially since people pay to see them, demand an enormous return on that emotional investment. On top of that, there's the "timeliness" – the question of "why now?" – meaning why release it at this specific moment.

Yamazaki: So for 'Train Man,' the "universality" was the love story of an unlucky guy falling for an unattainable woman, while the "timeliness" was 2channel and the internet.

Kawamura: Exactly. The other element is my original concept: "Discovery × Invention." Discovering something interesting is the start of a project, but I believe you can't just make something based on discovery alone. So, while valuing what you discover, the process of questioning it then continues endlessly. The fun part is only at the beginning; after that, it's suffering, or rather, relentless verification work to see if it's genuine.

Yamazaki: So it's about adding and subtracting to turn negatives into positives?

Kawamura: Exactly. When you're trying to beat a $200 million Hollywood blockbuster with a $2 million budget, discovery alone is nowhere near enough. You need to drive in ten or twenty pillars of invention to complement that discovery. Invention could be casting, or suddenly introducing a new element while writing the script. Only when all those pieces come together can you finally move forward.

Yamazaki: Are you perhaps the type who agonizes indecisively?

Kawamura: I'm extremely indecisive and change my mind constantly.

Yamazaki: So you're honest with your instincts. That's how Train Man became a hit, right?

Kawamura: The first one grossed 3.7 billion yen. I was 26. That's usually the pattern where you get carried away and things go wrong, right?

Yamazaki: But you didn't?

Kawamura: Even at 26, I probably sensed something fishy about that success. Actually, for about three years after that, I kept getting asked to do similar projects. I went through a period of doing them while feeling lost. I did them because they were requested, but I had no passion for them, no discoveries or inventions, so they didn't work out. I finally gave up and thought, "This isn't working," so I just did whatever I wanted. That's how "Detroit Metal City" came about. Since that worked out, I realized it's better to just combine the things I like. When something strikes me as interesting, it must somehow resonate with the times or possess universal appeal. Sometimes, while explaining the reasons why it's interesting to others after the fact, those half-baked justifications suddenly become legitimate reasoning.

 

Project Stockpile: "The Discomfort Box"

Yamazaki: After Detroit Metal City, your next projects, Confessions and Bad Guy, were heavy.

Kawamura: I think this applies to your ads too, Yamazaki-san. I believe in the reaction against the mainstream. Back then, movies that made you laugh, cry, and had happy endings were hits. But I also love Hitchcock's Psycho and David Fincher's Seven, so I thought it was about time this genre got its chance. Looking back, Battle Royale was a hit ten years prior. And looking next door, Memories of Murder was a hit in Korea then, while The Dark Knight was a hit in America. Examining the past and our neighbors gave me confidence.

Yamazaki: I once helped out on a film called "Moving" directed by Shinji Sōmei. Film shoots often run over schedule, and you have to communicate with the director. It must be tough on set, right?

Kawamura: I'm a producer who hardly ever goes to the set. Right now, I'm working with director Sang-il Lee on a film called Rage. Since we were starting shooting in Okinawa, I went there. There was a scene where Suzu Hirose gets off a boat and says "Nice to meet you" to an older man. The director did 70 test takes starting in the morning, and then said, "We're not shooting today." From my perspective, I was like, "What!?" I thought, "The first take and the 70th take are the same!" But that's the director's superpower. Suzu Hirose naturally got depressed. Maybe she couldn't eat dinner, because the next day she showed up with a completely unsparkling expression. That's when we got the OK right away.

Yamazaki: Back in the day, I once really pissed off Toshiyuki Nishida during a commercial shoot. But that take, with his bloodshot eyes and heaving shoulders, ended up being amazing. That kind of thing happens, right?

Kawamura: It happens. I think the ultimate way to push someone is to make them put their ego somewhere else. Every director has their own way of running the set, and that's the director's domain. Producers aren't useful on set, so I don't go (laughs).

Yamazaki: Why did you go from 'The Bad Guy' back to 'Moteki'?

Kawamura: The Moteki TV series couldn't run in prime time due to its content, so it aired late at night with ratings around 2-3%. But remember how the old TV dramas by Sō Kuramoto or Taichi Yamada had a bit of an erotic edge? I thought, "I want to make a movie that fully embraces that kind of sensual atmosphere." I wanted to take something that 100,000 core fans loved and turn it into a movie that 1 million people would watch.

Yamazaki: Doing what you can't do on TV is fundamental to film, right?

Kawamura: Exactly. Plus, I've always wanted to do a "J-pop musical." I have this "Discomfort Box" in my head filled with weird, jarring ideas. They don't work on their own, but when you combine them, they suddenly become interesting. One idea was how people get hyped up dancing with choreography at karaoke – it's like a musical. I thought that alone could be a movie. Then I saw the late-night drama Moteki, and the two clicked together. I knew it would work.

 

You can also read the interview here on AdTae!

Project Producer: Aki Kanahara, Dentsu Inc. Event & Space Design Bureau