Ryo Iwamatsu is well-known to Western viewers of Japanese films for his acting roles in films ranging from Zebraman to Cutie Honey. What is less well-known in the West is Mr. Iwamatsu’s decades-long career as a playwright. He has just returned to the film director’s chair after a fifteen-year absence to write and direct Then Summer Came, a comedy-drama that had its world premiere at the 2008 New York Asian Film Festival. Then Summer Came is a very fine effort, a surreal comedy-drama about the tensions between a small-town father and son who must deal with many complications, including the son’s upcoming arranged marriage, the father’s secret romance with a coworker, and the return of a long-lost relative who is secretly living in their attic. While in New York for the premiere of his film, Mr. Iwamatsu sat down with Cinema Strikes Back’s Jeff for a long talk about his career and Then Summer Came.

CSB: Our readers are likely familiar with numerous of your acting roles, but they may not be familiar with your work in the theater. Would you mind providing our readers with a little bit of background about your career?

Iwamatsu: When I was in university, I became a member of the theater. I did not like it so much, and quit in one year. All of my colleagues and friends came back to me and said, “Why don’t you join us one more time?” I didn’t have anything else to do at the time, so I decided to rejoin. After ten-plus years in the same theater, I realized that I was over thirty years old. This was not good, so I decided to write a play for the theater. I became a playwright at that time. One thing led to another, and I won some awards. Now I have no way out!

CSB: One of my favorite things about Then Summer Came was its timeless feel. In fact, it’s very noticeable when modern technology intrudes on the characters, particularly with use of cell phones. Do you have any thoughts on this feeling of timelessness — the fact that the story could have happened 30 years ago, or today? Also do you share your characters’ dislike of cell phones?

Iwamatsu: I don’t like high-tech devices. If I have been asked to write a play, for example, based on those high-tech devices, I will make sure that it does not come into the play unnecessarily. I will make sure that it is a necessary tool.

CSB: Another thing I enjoyed about the film was how integral the small-town setting was to the plot. The town itself is almost a character. Are you from a small town yourself? Are the observations in the film about small towns, such as the absolute lack of privacy, based on your personal experiences?

Iwamatsu: I was from a small town, and when I was in high school, the only thing I really, really wished for was to get out of there, and be in Tokyo, where I could have some privacy. When I made it to Tokyo, I felt like I had to do something to prove that I’m here. I got into theater then.

CSB: When you began working on the script for Then Summer Came, did you know that this would be a film and not a play? Do you believe that some works are more suitable for film than for theater?

Iwamatsu: I originally had written this project twenty years ago. At the time, a TV producer or director had asked me to write whatever I wanted. Obviously, he was a fan of what I was doing in the theater. Then, I showed it to the person in charge, who said, “Nope. I really don’t get it.” So I rewrote it a couple of times, but it was never understood by anyone. Recently, I caught a producer and said that I had five really good ideas. One of those ideas was Then Summer Came.

CSB: That would explain the timeless feel, in part, I think.

Iwamatsu: Maybe so.

CSB: I thought that the performances in Then Summer Came were marvelous, in particular Joe Odagiri, whom I did not even recognize at first. Did you work closely with the actors in developing their performances — were there workshops or rehearsals prior to filming?

Iwamatsu: There weren’t any rehearsals or workshops. I was working on a TV drama as an actor with Mr. Odagiri. As you know, Mr. Odagiri is rather good-looking, so there is a big gap between the character of Tamio and him — I was a little concerned about that. When we had spare time on the TV drama, and we were talking, we’d discuss what type of hairstyle Tamio should have, what kind of outfits Tamio should wear. So we discussed the visual side of the character.

CSB: I thought that the clothing Mr. Odagiri wore was very integral to his characterization, and made him unrecognizable. Was the clothing the choice of the costume designer? Did you have input? Did Mr. Odagiri have input?

Iwamatsu: It was the designer’s choice. Of course we discussed it beforehand.

CSB: Did you know most of the primary actors from past television and film projects before casting them in the film?

Iwamatsu: When I finished the script, my concern was would anyone agree to make a film out of this script? So I felt extremely happy and lucky that the producer started doing the casting. I was very happy with the casting of (the three lead roles).

CSB: From doing research, it appears there was a fifteen-year gap between Then Summer Came and the last film you directed before that. What’s the reason for the long gap between directorial projects?

Iwamatsu: I never considered myself to be film director. I thought of myself as a playwright and director for the theater. The jobs kept coming in, so I just kept doing what I had to do. I did remember that it was really fun to make a film fifteen years ago. Recently, I’ve been doing a lot of work in film as an actor. I saw that this one film director was having a great time. I thought maybe it’s not fair that they are having all the fun. Last time when I directed a film I was not actually in charge of the script-writing. I really wanted to write and direct by myself this time because last time it was really hard to lead the screenwriter into my sphere.

WARNING: SPOILERS ABOUT THE PLOT (AND, INCIDENTALLY, ABOUT THE GRADUATE, FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN’T SEEN IT)

CSB: When I was watching the film with my wife last night, we both enjoyed your homage to The Graduate. She is from Spain, and noted that the The Graduate is not a very important film for people in Spain. But for people in America, it’s a hugely influential film that everyone knows. Does it have that kind of influence in Japan?

Iwamatsu: In Japan, it’s a huge, huge movie. When I was fifteen or sixteen, it was shown in Japan. All the music was great, from Simon and Garfunkel. At that time I was in a small town in the middle of nowhere, and I thought this was a movie that all the cosmopolitan people see. In the very last scene (of The Graduate), where the couple escape, I wanted to incorporate that into my film, but a bit more destroyed. (laughs) So your wife didn’t know The Graduate?

CSB: She did, but she thought most people in Spain of our generation wouldn’t know of it.

Iwamatsu: Of course, everyone knows The Graduate in Japan in my generation, but I was curious what would happen if the new generation in Japan who doesn’t know The Graduate saw my film, and what take they would have on it.

CSB: In America, The Graduate is one of those films you see when you reach a certain age, maybe 20 years old. It still speaks to everyone.

Iwamatsu: I saw The Graduate one more time before I shot the film. I got a different impression compared to when I first saw it. I just realized that it isn’t actually a church that they run away from. It looks like a gym or something; they just had a cross on the top. (laughter)

CSB: I remember it being a church. The big cross is what everyone remembers.

Iwamatsu: You really can’t do that in a real church.

CSB: Was it a church in your film, or was it a wedding hall that just kind of looks like a church?

Iwamatsu: It was a real church.

CSB: One of the other things that was striking to me were the scenes of the salesladies on the bicycles. Are there still things like that in Japan? It seemed very quaint.

Iwamatsu: Not on that big a scale, not in Japan any longer. Nowadays, you make a phone order, and a truck will come by and drop things off. When you say the film has a timeless feel, some of it comes from there.

CSB: It’s a wonderful visual, to see them spread out on their bicycles.

Iwamatsu: Remember the scene that after the father says his son is getting married, and all the women on bicycles go out for their jobs. The sound of the bicycles was not actually from bicycles. I asked the sound designer to create something more happy and merry. It should reflect his spirit that he was so happy … Almost like a little bell.

CSB: Would you like to comment on the father-son relationship in the film?

Iwamatsu: I’m often told that I’m depicting the relationship or bond between the son and the father, but actually it’s the other way around. I wanted to depict what is missing (in them individually), not what is missing between them as father and son. Something that is missing from them is something universal, something eternal, something unchanging. I wanted to depict that, instead of the father-son bond itself.

CSB: That also ties in well with The Graduate, because at the end of that film, the characters are feeling very empty. In the same way, there is emptiness in the father and in the son (in Then Summer Came) — would you agree?

Iwamatsu: To some extent, yes. But on the surface, The Graduate has a happy ending. However, in this film, the father and son running away together is not a happy ending. From the audience’s point of view, they’re an unwise family; I’m not going to say stupid, but they’re unwise, not clever. That’s what I wanted to depict when I talked about unchanging, eternal and universal themes — what’s missing from them. They could have seen what was wrong once they stepped out of their own sphere. People tend to have a narrow perspective, that’s an unchanging fact of life. … Those two, the son and father, embody this problem we all have. As an audience member, you can laugh at them because you are in a different sphere, but once you are in their position, perhaps you will do the same because you’re not seeing the bigger picture.

Special thanks to Mr. Iwamatsu for generously providing his time, to Grady Hendrix of Subway Cinema and Yukio Shiomaki of StyleJam for coordinating the interview, and to our translator, whose name I regretfully do not recall.