Interview with Kana Hatakeyama, Writer, Director, Producer, and Lead Actor in okaasan (mom)



Copy Edited & Posted by Sophie Schmidt

okaasan (mom) is a beautiful film set in rural Japan that follows a mother and daughter coming together after the passing of the mother’s mother, whom they both call Grandma. The mother and daughter celebrate their first New Year without Grandma, and it’s clear that they are both struggling with Grandma’s absence. How did this story come about for you and why was the New Year significant as the timing for the story?

I started writing bits and pieces of the script, just writing scenes and notes as they came to me, without any sort of specific concept or story I was working towards. I had been writing whatever came to mind, including bits that belong in other projects, but after a while, I had written enough of these scenes set in Japan that I thought could be worked into a script. From there, I printed out everything I had written that was in this world and arranged them in a way that I thought could work narratively, noting where there were missing beats I needed to fill in and what not. 

In writing the scenes, I was partly fueled by my desire to capture and share this beautiful part of Japan, as well as the bits and pieces of Japanese culture that I adored that I felt like people outside of Japan may not know about. The other part was more emotionally-driven, wanting to process the guilt I have actually grappled with from living so far away from my mother and missing her, as well as my late grandmother. I will say that while the film is deeply personal, it is neither a documentary nor autobiographical, in that the dialogue and happenings in the film were imagined and entirely scripted.

Close-up of a woman with a blurry colorful background

Kana Hatakeyama

New Year’s Day was significant because in Japan it’s not so much about partying, it’s about being with family, and it’s also more meditative, reflecting and setting intentions for the year to come. I also love the environment of it, with all the rituals, kimonos, families, people of all ages. I find it quite beautiful, and the air just feels so distinct and special, so I wanted to capture that.

The mother and grandmother remain unnamed throughout the film, while we find out that the daughter is named Yuka. What was the intention of leaving the mother and grandmother nameless?

I actually wanted them all to be nameless. In the credits, it says “Daughter” and not Yuka. It was just implausible to me that the mother wouldn’t call her by her name, so for that reason I came up with a name, but I really wanted them all to be nameless, just daughter, mother, grandmother, so that it felt archetypal, universal, and also because the focus of the film is the relationship between daughter, mother, grandmother. They all of course each have their own personalities and are fully human, but the film isn’t about who they are as individuals, it’s about who they are in relation to each other so I wanted to emphasize that.

You wrote, directed, produced, and played the protagonist, Yuka, in the story. How did you juggle all those roles and what did you learn about the experience of being involved in every aspect of this film?

It was definitely tough. Writing and directing, but being the sole producer and acting on top of that was a lot. I had never made a film before, apart from projects in a film production class and a 24-hour filmmaking challenge in college, so I thought it would be difficult to find a producer who would want to work with me, that would be a good fit, especially on such short notice and filming in Japan over a national holiday. So, I decided to go ahead and do it myself, but it was quite stressful. That being said, I learned a lot. 

Two women seen from between the slats of a fence

Still from okaasan (mom)

As for the acting, I really wanted my mom to play the mother, and since she isn’t a professional actor, I thought it would be better for her if I played the role. Also, I didn’t have time to look for actors in Japan, nor the money to pay, house, and feed them, so it made sense financially and timeline-wise as well for my mom and I to play these parts. However, purely from a creative standpoint, I thought my mom would be so great in this, and as we don’t get to spend a lot of time together, I thought it would be really special to do this with her. Being really present and natural on-camera, especially when not saying or doing anything specific is really hard, even for trained actors, but my mom had no problem with that. She did beautiful work in the film. 

However, because she’s not a professional actor, I did want to make sure we had more time for her takes, so I did my best to knock out all my coverage in 2-3 takes. In order to be able to do that, I got the wise advice from my mentor, filmmaker Deborah Kampmeier, that I needed to really prep my acting before heading over to Japan because I would not have time, and she was absolutely right. I didn’t even have time to watch that much play-back, so I was a little concerned about my own performance before going into post, but my editor and I were able to make it work with what we got.

We see Yuka and her mother make awkward attempts at rebuilding their fractured relationship through their interactions on the phone, deciding where Yuka will sleep, and even while they bathe together. For me, those scenes brought up a lot of emotions. How did you go about capturing this feeling of reconnection throughout the film?

I feel like in life, so much of those huge, charged feelings in intimate relationships exist and reveal themselves in the mundane. Even if it’s not a huge outburst, there’s constant negotiation that happens in those small moments that says so much about the relationship. They may try, but people aren’t as good at hiding or pretending around people they know really well. On top of that, it can be harder to really honestly and openly articulate or express in words because the feelings are so big, and these mother-daughter relationships have so much history interwoven with complicated feelings, so it might feel embarrassing to say out loud, and thus manifests in these small interactions instead. Even though neither are comfortable with explicitly expressing their deep love for the other, they both do try to convey it through their actions, and sometimes the other is able to receive it as such, sometimes not. For example, Yuka tries to express it by complimenting her mother’s cooking and joining her for bed, and mom tries to express it by cooking for her and trying to take care of her basic needs; neither do a great job of receiving these moments. There’s a change with the bath scene, where mom is able to receive Yuka’s bid for intimacy, and in turn, Yuka is able to receive Mom dressing her in the kimono. That’s what I think ultimately allows Yuka to more directly express her feelings to Mom before she leaves, and for them to be able to connect in a raw, honest way.

A mother and daughter hugging

Still from okaasan (mom).

There are also tense moments between Yuka and her mother where they disagree over how something should be done, like when Yuka’s mother tells her that Yuka can’t wear Grandma’s kimono since neither one of them knows how to put one on. As you were writing the script and directing the piece, what role were you hoping these scenes would play in the narrative?

There is the existing tension from them having been so far apart physically and how they each feel about that reality. On top of that, people mourn and process loss differently. I wanted those two aspects to collide, and bringing in Grandma was one way to achieve that. I also think it explains some of Yuka’s behavior — part of it comes from the relationship she’s always had with her mother, on top of that her feelings about living far away, and then there’s the added layer of her grieving. For me, the film is about moving through loss as much as it is about a mother-daughter relationship.

What was the biggest challenge while creating okaasan (mom)? What advice do you have for filmmakers struggling to tell their own stories? 

Pre-production into production was certainly the toughest part, because it was important to me to film over New Year’s Day, I had six weeks to assemble a crew willing to work at indie rates, outside of Tokyo during the most important national holiday of the year, and very few film contacts in Japan. I actually ended up finding the crew not through my film contacts in Japan, but through Facebook — I made a post saying I was looking for crew, and friends would tag their friends, who would tag their friends, and that’s how I found my people. On top of all that I had never done this before. I reached out to friends who had produced their own projects, asked questions, and kind of figured it out as I went along, but it was definitely a stressful few weeks. I had been saving money with the goal of making a film, so I didn’t have to crowdfund at that time, though I did go the crowdfunding route for my most recent short. Then, once I got to production, it was a skeleton crew of 5 people + my mom + myself, so while I had some help from my mom, I was making sure there was food and coffee, dressing the set, figuring out make-up and costumes for my mom and I, setting up shots with my DP, and on and on. I probably only slept 2-3 hours a night and was stretched pretty thin. But my crew was game and patient and did wonderful work, so all in all I feel very grateful to them and for the whole experience.

Even before getting to pre-production though, finishing the script, sharing it with people, and making the decision to go for it was in a way the biggest hurdle. I was terrified. I don’t advise doing this, but I spent an entire night drinking a bottle of wine alone while Facebook chatting with a writer friend about my fear and anxiety sharing my first real piece of screenwriting before I worked up the courage to email my script with yet another dear, kind, and trusted artist friend (I hadn’t shared it with anyone before then). I also had to call my mentor, filmmaker Deborah Kampmeier, who gave me the final push and encouragement I needed, before committing to making the film. Then from there, there were all the people who generously gave me feedback on the script and the cuts and shared information and contacts with me. So my advice to filmmakers would be to find and connect with other artists and filmmakers and don’t be scared to reach out and ask for help. That network of support and encouragement is vital.

A woman walking a dog while talking on the phone.

Filming the opening scene with actors Kako Hatakeyama and dog actor extraordinaire Hime.

Do you have any further plans for the film? Are there any other projects you’re working on that we should keep an eye out for?

The film is now online on NoBudge, Directors’ Notes, and my Vimeo page! Free to watch, so anyone can check it out. I’m finishing a second short film that I also wrote, directed, produced, and acted in, which I’m hoping to get out there soon. It’s quite different from okaasan (mom) though–it’s called FITNESS! or a story about SWEAT and is a weird comedy set in Brooklyn. I also in the past year finished a draft of my feature-length screenplay, which is a story set in Japan and probably more in line with okaasan (mom), though it’ll still be fairly different. I’m hoping to work on rewrites this year, and getting it made sooner rather than later. Fingers crossed 🙂

You can view the trailer of okaasan (mom) on Vimeo, and you can watch okaasan (mom) for free on Vimeo, NoBudge, and Directors Notes. You can also keep up with the film on Facebook. You can learn more about Kana on her website and IMDB page, and you can also follow her on Instagram. Connect with Sophie on her profile.