Every year at the Tokyo International Film Festival, the programming team makes an effort to champion emerging talent that challenges preconceived notions of what Japanese cinema is or can be. Through their Women’s Empowerment and Nippon Cinema Now strands, the festival often showcases new work from female and non-binary filmmakers who bring their unique worldview to the big screen. At the 2025 edition of the festival, three of the most exciting filmmakers showing their work were Mika Imai (Kiiroiko), Chihiro Amano (Sato and Sato) and Keiko Tsuruoka (Saikai Paradise) whose films confront notions of love, family, belonging and home. Amid the rush of the festival, we caught up with these three trailblazing filmmakers to find out what informs their creative practice.
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Chihiro Amano
Sato and Sato traces one couple’s relationship over the span of fifteen years, from romance blossoming between Sachi and Tamotsu at university to the trials and tribulations that develop with marriage, careers and parenthood.
Where did your passion and interest in filmmaking begin, and how did that transform into making films?
Amano: Iwas always very fond of making things when Iwas achild, but Inever really was into movies. Until Iwas in university, Isaw maybe one big Hollywood tentpole ayear, and that was about it. Inever realized people could actually make movies.
Right around the time Iwas about to finish college, Istarted watching movies at midnight in Japan, because on Japanese television they would play movies in the middle of the night. There were these kind of not-fancy movies, very far from the Hollywood big titles like Titanic. Even though they weren’t fancy, they were really interesting. Ibecame quite interested. Ieven saw La Strada by Fellini. That was when Istarted to think, “Oh, maybe it’s possible for me to become involved in movies. Is it the kind of thing where even Icould get ashot?” Ithink that was the first inspiration forme.
Because of that feeling, Ijoined the movie club at school, where we could get together with friends and make our own movies. That part was really fun, and we also had achance to screen [our films] for people, and then they would give us their feedback and their impressions. That was so stimulating, Ifelt Iwanted to continue.
After university you continued filmmaking. How difficult did you find it to pursue filmmaking as acareer? In the UK and in America, and alot of the world, it is still very difficult to be afemale filmmaker. My perception of the Japanese film industry is that it’s the same, quite difficult to break through as awoman. What were some of the challenges you faced as afemale filmmaker?
It’s been very hard the whole time, but Ithink in terms of being awoman, Iwas doing my own independent films, Iwas starting to win awards in domestic film festivals and film presentations, and Iwas finally at apoint where Icould call it my job. Iwas actually being paid to make movies when Igot married and Igot pregnant. Iassumed after Ihad the baby, Icould come back and continue to make movies. There was afemale producer who was very caring of me and trying to make the movie industry better. Itold her that I’d gotten pregnant and she was really shocked. Like, “What? Well, Amano-san, you’ve made it this far and now you’re not going to be able to make any more movies.” Ididn’t understand because Ifelt once Ihave the baby, I’m still me, I’m still going to be able to continue my work. But in reality, when Ihad the baby, Istopped getting work completely. Ithink people thought, “Oh, she’s awoman. She now has ababy, so we can’t ask her to dowork.”
Until then, Ithink there were certain proposals that came my way because Iwas ayoung woman. Iwas afemale among many male directors and maybe that was why Iwould get certain opportunities. But once Ifell out of that category, those proposals were no longer coming to me. Iwas working freelance. All of the daycare centers in Japan were full and Icouldn’t, as afreelancer, get aspot for my child. If Icouldn’t get my kid into daycare, Icouldn’t write scripts; if Icouldn’t write scripts, Icouldn’t make movies — it was like Ihit awall in all directions. It was really tough.
The film deals very directly with the idea that, as awoman, once you have achild, what are your responsibilities, and the idea of going back to work. It’s very shocking for people in the film that Sachi goes back to work and Tamotsu stays home with the baby. Iwas going to ask if it was inspired by your experiences, but it sounds like these kinds of issues may have been part of your own life. Is that thecase?
Yes, indeed. If you were to think about the movie, Iwas more Tamotsu because Ifelt like my world had come to astandstill. Icould only rely on my husband for our livelihood; Iwould stay at home taking care of domestic chores and raising the baby. Ifelt like Ihad been abandoned by society. My identity was shaken. Iwas frustrated and under alot of stress, and Iwould take it out on my husband. But there was also arealization. After awhile Iwas able to put my kid in daycare, and gradually Iwas able to start my work again. It was time to make amovie. If you shoot amovie, you have to be away and work hard for one to two months. During that time, my husband would have to do the household chores and raise the baby. Iwas away from morning till night, working outside [the home] — then Ibecame Sachi.
That was my experience: I’m working outside [the home], Icome home to my husband, who’s done the house chores and been raising the baby the whole day, and he’s basically amirror of my previous self, looking at me resentfully. Then Irealised it’s not about gender; it’s about your position. If you take on adifferent position, then you see completely different scenery. Ithink having those opposing experiences is what led to thismovie.
