Tsutsumi Yukihiko’s Hope is a family drama that stretches itself to also be a cutting indictment of media standards and their effects on the families they report on. Despite the iffy finale, it convincingly hits the landing.
The Ishikawa family live a peaceful, successful life: architect father Kazuto (Tsutsumi Shin’ichi), proof-reader mother Kiyomi (Ishida Yuriko), son Tadashi (Okada Kenshi) and daughter Miyabi (Kiyohara Kaya). But all of that changes overnight when one of Tadashi’s classmates is murdered, and Tadashi, who has gone missing, is reported to somehow be involved in the case.
Hope is a thought-provoking film that delves into the fears parents often harbor. It presents a moral dilemma: is it better to hope your child is innocent, even if it means accepting their possible death and the shame it might bring to your family, or is it better to accept their guilt, knowing they are alive and you can see them again? This is a question no parent ever wants to face, as in the end, they are the only ones who truly lose in such a situation.
It is the performances within Hope that make the film as impactful as it is, with Tsutsumi Shin’ichi as the patriarch Kazuto and Ishida Yuriko delivering terrific performances. With Kazuto, we have a man who tries to keep the traditional ideal of a Japanese family going; the idea of honour is heavy on him as he hopes that his son is innocent of the accusations, even if that means he has been murdered. Tsutsumi has a couple of scenes where he is able to show his full capabilities as an actor, and he truly delivers.
With Ishida, she is allowed to do a bit more with her character. She gives a complex yet memorable performance as a mother who just wants to see her son again. She is the emotional lynchpin of the film. Her performance, like Tsutsumi’s and Kiyohara Kaya’s, is striking in how honest they are. For the most part, Hope is that type of film that strikes you with more honesty than the expected melodrama, and it soars because of it.
Another point that Tsutsumi brings forward is the role of Japanese media in looking for a narrative in their reporting instead of just reporting the news. We see early how ignorant they are to families with how a reporter blocks Kiyomi from simply closing her front door and instead takes the manipulative approach to getting what he wants, just so he can get a sensationalist story.
By behaving in this manner, they allow speculation, whether false or correct, to run rampant in communities and, in this case, causing intense emotional stress and pain to the Ishikawas. Hope’s pointed and scathing approach to the media is a necessary attack on how stories, even ones as sad as depicted here, need more tact and sensitivity until all of the facts are revealed. Taking a tabloid skewering to report is incredibly harmful.
Tsutsumi’s inclination to keep the story going long after it had wrapped up only increases the melodramatic side of the film, which wasn’t at all necessary. Even as we hurtled towards the end (Hope is a brisk 105 minutes, brief for a film that could have easily been another 20 minutes longer), the inclusion of what happened with Tadashi feels misplaced. Fortunately, these minor issues do not derail Hope’s impact on the audience. Its two main threads keep you glued to the screen, and its rather blistering appraisal of current media ethics makes it a film that deserves discussion.
The Japan Foundation Touring Film Programme 2025 takes place in cinemas around the UK from 7 February – 31 March 2025.
For further information: https://www.jpf-film.org.uk/
