Photo By Steve Ramos

Hirokazu Kore-eda builds on his worldwide recognition with his latest drama, Nobody Knows, about four siblings abandoned in a Tokyo apartment.

"I have no idea," he answers with a smile, aided by a nearby translator who's helping him with his English.

Speaking during a morning interview at the fall 2004 Toronto Film Festival, Kore-eda is promoting his latest drama, Nobody Knows, a quiet, but powerful story based on real life events about four young siblings abandoned by their mother in their small Tokyo apartment.

Nobody Knows contains everything discerning audiences have come to expect from a Kore-eda film -- deliberate pacing, a contemplative narrative and subtle examination of one's private thoughts and their intersection with the public world. In the case of Nobody Knows, this plays out in the children's private understanding of their plight and the harsh reality of the world outside their apartment.

Kore-eda is younger than you expect, if only because his films share a humanistic spirit similar to past masters Robert Bresson, Yasujiro Ozu, Ingmar Bergman. You expect to meet a man with a lifetime of wisdom and experience behind him, but he is dressed college-student casual in jeans and a sweater. A helmet of thick black hair complements his boyish face. Stubble covers his soft chin. It's as if he's trying to look older, tough enough to be a filmmaker for the past 14 years.

When he leans forward to speak, slowly crossing and uncrossing his arms, any attempts at portraying himself as a down-to-business moviemaker fades away. Kore-eda, speaking slowly, quietly, becomes a flesh and blood extension of his films. He is a poet and true film artist, responsible for some of the most spiritual movies made today.

"I do think storytelling is an art," he says. "So my goal is to tell my stories in what I would describe as an artistic way. One way I do this is by looking at the small details of daily life. This is how I move the narrative forward."

Kore-eda is a Tokyo native who graduated from Waseda University. He began making TV documentaries through his independent company, TV Man Union, before his feature film debut in 1995 with Maborosi.

His work, eight films including Nobody Knows in addition to his TV documentaries, shows him to be one of the more contemplative filmmakers working today and an artistic peer to Asian contemporaries Hou Hsiao-Hsien and Tsai Ming-liang.

Maborosi deals with a woman who relocates to an island on Japan's Inland Sea to cope with the death of her grandmother and the suicide of her first husband.

After Life (1998), the film that introduced Kore-eda to worldwide audiences, is set in limbo, where the deceased choose memories to preserve for eternity. The setting might be fantastic, but Kore-eda emphasizes the humanist elements of the story -- one's desire to hold onto memories.

Distance (2001) is about forgiveness after a massacre from a religious cult. Four people travel to the rural site of the slaughter as means to get over the tragedy. While there, they encounter a former cult member, and the unexpected confrontation turns out to be life changing.

Kore-eda's documentaries are just as humanistic. August Without Him is about the first Japanese man to publicly admit contracting HIV through homosexual sex. Without Memory tells the story of a family man who loses his short-term memory due to a botched operation and his family's fight to receive benefits due to the malpractice. In Lessons from a Calf, Kore-eda follows the efforts of an elementary school class raising a dairy cow.

For Kore-eda, what connects his TV documentaries with his feature films is a common focus he brings to all his projects -- to grasp honestly and spontaneously the every day happenings of life.

In our conversation, Kore-eda mentions filmmakers like Britain's Ken Loach and his political stance as a source of inspiration. When comparisons to Ozu and Bresson, two of cinema's greatest artists, are mentioned as a compliment, Kore-eda responds with humility.

"I've seen many movies by the directors you mentioned, but this film (Nobody Knows) is not a legacy to them," he says, rubbing a hand against the stubble on his chin. "I think the thing for me is to create something organic. How can I get to know my subject, and how can I best describe their experience? I know that film is an international language capable of exposing these complex and diverse stories."

Kore-eda's reputation becomes more stellar with every film. Yet he remains humble, unwilling to make too much out of the acclaim.

His attitude confirms what one has always sensed about Kore-eda. He is more poet than commercial filmmaker, more artist than businessman. One other thing: During our interview, Kore-eda never once spoke glowingly about his own work. He knows he can remain humble when surrounded by deafening praise. ©