Kokuho is set in the elaborate world of kabuki, the traditional Japanese theatre form.TIFF/Supplied
Kokuho
Directed by Lee Sang-Il
Written by Satoko Okudera, based on a novel by Shuichi Yoshida
Starring Ryo Yoshizawa, Ken Watanabe and Mitsuki Takahata
Classification 14A; 175 minutes
Opens in select theatres Feb. 6
Critic’s Pick
What makes an artist? Is one born with a gift or can you train to bewitch onstage? How does an artist become a national treasure?
These are questions that Kokuho does not necessarily answer. Nevertheless, it’s an evocative film that poses those queries, setting them in the elaborate world of kabuki, the traditional Japanese theatre form saturated with ritual and rigor. Kokuho is a Japanese honorific meaning national treasure, and the film follows the life of an orphaned teenager taken in by a famous kabuki clan. He goes on to lead a tumultuous life before being conferred with the title. What he gains and loses in this pursuit is the subject of the meta-narrative.
Kikuo Tachibana (played by Soya Kurokawa as a teenager and Ryo Yoshizawa as an adult) is 14 when he watches his father, a fearsome yakuza gang leader, get killed by a rival gang. Earlier that evening, Kikuo performed as an onnagata, a male actor playing female roles, at a gathering presided by his father.
Famous kabuki actor Hanjiro Hanai (Ken Watanabe) happens to be at the gathering, and marvels at Kikuo’s natural talent. When Kikuo’s father dies, Hanjiro takes the boy under his wing, and Kikuo trains alongside Hanjiro’s son Shunsuke (played by Keitatsu Koshiyama as a teenager, and Ryusei Yokohama as an adult).
Japanese actor Ryo Yoshizawa plays an orphaned teen taken in by a famous kabuki clan.BLANCA CRUZ/AFP/Getty Images
The film opens in Nagasaki in 1964 and then spans 50 years, charting Kikuo’s remarkable rise to fame, downfall and rise again, his fate inversely mirroring Shunsuke’s. The rivalry between the two performers isn’t heated. Their lives are more intimately intertwined; their ascent to success is combined, their respective spirals out of favour are not.
Their bond deepens as they train together, carefully watching each other’s moves. Hanjiro points out the dancing duo’s traits before their debut performance on the mainstage. Shunsuke has kabuki in his blood, while Kikuo has trained so well that even if his brain forgets a movement, his body will remember. Each envies the other.
Ken Watanabe plays a famous kabuki actor.Caroline Brehman/Reuters
Kabuki is a highly stylized form. The male performers, adorned in a coat of white paint, their lips and eyes accentuated in red, wearing ornate kimonos and wigs, sing in a specific falsetto timbre, moving in an alternatively delicate and deliberate manner. There are hierarchies and decorum to be followed in the form. At first, Kikuo flourishes under his mentor’s guidance, while Shunsuke sulks on the sidelines.
When there’s a rift, the roles reverse. Now Kikuo is struggling out on the streets, making one bad decision after another, while Shunsuke reclaims his familial legacy. When Kikuo is at his lowest point, he’s thrown a lifeline. There’s a tentative reconciliation, but underlying tensions remain. There’s more loss to endure.
Kokuho is a sumptuous film. Cinematographer Sofian El Fani fills the screen with the incandescent glow of the theatre spaces that Kikuo and Shunsuke rehearse and work in, onstage and behind-the-scenes, the splendour and spectacle of the costumes, and lingering closeups, especially of Kikuo.
Oscar nominations 2026: The biggest Academy Award snubs, surprises and head-turners
The pace moves from the hustle-bustle of daily business carried out over five decades to moments of stillness from the artform – the flick of a fan and a hand moving in gentle waves, for example. The actors bring the drama to life, without being overly dramatic. Both Yoshizawa and Yokohama are able to dip into the dualities of their characters, inside and outside of the kabuki world. A familiar face in Western film, Watanabe (The Last Samurai, Inception, Godzilla) is memorable as the kabuki master and mentor, who puts his protege and son on a path of brotherhood and betrayal.
Although Kokuho is set in the world of a storied tradition, its beats are not that of an arthouse or avantgarde film. It takes a popular approach following Kikuo’s pursuit of his passion, from boyhood wonder to adult ambition. It’s no wonder then, that it became Japan’s highest-grossing live action film of all time, and is the country’s submission for an Oscar.
For those unfamiliar with kabuki, Kokuho could be a primer, showcasing a number of vignettes from theatrical productions. The almost three-hour run time could possibly have been trimmed, but it doesn’t feel tedious.
Other films such as Sentimental Value and Hamnet, which also screened at the Toronto International Film Festival last year and are now in Oscar contention, have tread that familiar theme of artists making art. They explore how artists come to write or act in works that may be inspired by their own lives, how the personal often become fodder for public consideration, if not outright consumption.
Kokuho fits in with that cohort. At differing points in the film, Kikuo is asked whether he is now finally ready to take the role he’d been preparing for his whole life, and whether his sacrifice was worth it.
It’s a question an artist can likely answer only for themselves.
Special to The Globe and Mail