Genki Kawamura and Takaaki Yamazaki: Input and Output (Part 2)

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 Hot Pepper and Dai-Nichi Jochugiku Kinchōru, has long been fascinated by Kawamura's perspective and the process through which he transforms ideas into works. Though their genres differ, these two individuals, constantly wrestling with expression, delve into each other's "input and output" in this second part of their conversation.
 

 

Did Kinchō's "Boring!" originate from Ozu films?

Kawamura: I absolutely love the commercials Mr. Yamazaki creates. Both the Hot Pepper dubbing project and the Kinchōru commercials. How did "Boring!" come about?

Yamazaki: Kintooru is a company that's built its brand on humor.
But for Kinchōru, which doesn't pollute the air, the brief was "Do it sincerely, no gags." Absolutely no silly stuff. But I kept coming up with silly ideas, and the concepts wouldn't get approved. In desperation, I showed them a photo of Tomoyoshi Kasa sitting in front of Yasujirō Ozu's grave and said I wanted to do it in that worldview. It's a photo I really love and had kept a clipping of for ages.

Kawamura: Huh!? That's Ozu?

Yamazaki: Well, technically, it's Mr. Kasa sitting in front of Mr. Ozu's grave (laughs). The original idea was Mr. Otaki Hideo visiting his late wife's grave with Mr. Kishibe Ittoku, crying and saying, "Back when Mom was alive, there were no insecticides that didn't pollute the air." On the day of shooting, I wrote the line "You're saying such boring things" as an ad-lib, and it became Otaki-san's line: "Boring!" I believe the worldview is crucial for a concept, so I don't think too much about the story. Many ad creators suffer from story deficiency syndrome and try to cram a story into 15 seconds, but I don't have that.

Kawamura: I just noticed something after seeing the Kincho and Hot Pepper V-Con... Yamazaki-san, you probably look down on movies, right? (laughs) Even when watching Ozu films, you probably think, "The pauses when Chishu Ryu speaks are weird," and with American films, you probably find it funny when Japanese voice actors dub them, right?

Yamazaki: Huh!?... No, no, I'm not making fun of them at all.

Kawamura: No, I'm sure that's exactly it (laughs).

Yamazaki: That's not true at all. Otherwise, I wouldn't have invited you, Kawamura-san! What surprised me was that Kawamura-san, whose name is well-known as a producer, published a book. And a novel, no less.

Kawamura: I'd gotten plenty of offers before for books on planning techniques or similar topics, but I turned them all down.
I turned down the novel offer at first too, but as I talked with the editor, the story just took shape... and I ended up wanting to write it. What was in the "Discomfort Box" was this experience: I dropped my cell phone, tried to call work from a payphone, and realized I didn't remember anyone's number. It was a shock. It hit me that in just over a decade since cell phones became widespread, they'd completely robbed us of our ability to remember people's phone numbers.

That day, feeling down, I got on the train and saw a beautiful rainbow through the window.
But when I glanced around the train car, everyone was glued to their smartphones, completely oblivious to the rainbow. Because I didn't have a phone, I could see the rainbow. I realized that to gain something, you have to lose something else. When I shared this story with the editor, they suggested it would be more interesting if not just phones, but all sorts of things disappeared. That's how If Cats Disappeared from the World came to be. I think with ideas, noticing something is more important than what you come up with.

 

Creating while imagining a fictional "Worst Possible Post-Mortem"

Kawamura: When making a movie, I always imagine the release day. With films, by around noon on opening day, you generally know whether it's going to be a hit or not. That's why the wrap party for a flop on opening day is brutal. The staff gathers, and it's like a mini-postmortem where everyone says, "Well, it was a good movie, but..." and then everyone just sinks into despair.

Yamazaki: You imagine that post-mortem?

Kawamura: Exactly. I push myself during production thinking, "I can fix it now!" so I won't have to make excuses at that debriefing. For me, that fear is my biggest motivation. With novels, it's different—I write thinking, "I'll do things you can't do in film."

Yamazaki: What TV can't do, you do in film; what film can't do, you do in novels. That's always the goal.

Kawamura: I don't deliberately go into crowded places to fight. It's different from being contrary. It's more like a weakling's way of fighting.

Yamazaki: That's been your strategy since 'Train Man,' right? Do you accumulate the contents of your "discomfort box" from everyday life?

Kawamura: Exactly. I don't think our job is to use superpowers to create things that don't exist in this world. It's about noticing things that everyone feels uncomfortable with but usually just passes by without paying much attention. It's about extracting that, expressing it, and making the audience think, "Actually, I was bothered by that too."

Yamazaki: When you pinpoint something everyone notices but hasn't put into words, you gain empathy. That principle applies to advertising too. I learned a lot today from someone younger than me. Thank you.