Contemporary Japanese cinema’s master returns with a new project after earning the Palme d’Or for A Family Affair. In this installment, Hirokazu Kore-eda takes a road movie approach, keeping the signature balance of lightness and gravity while turning his lens toward characters who live on society’s margins and endure under a system that often strips them of humanity and empathy. This time, he moves from Japan to South Korea, yet the core sensibility of his storytelling remains intact. The subject matter is provocative: baby mailboxes established by various groups, ranging from NGOs to religious organizations, intended to care for unwanted newborns. At the center are two men who exploit the system to traffic vulnerable children, placing a troubling spotlight on a deeply imperfect world we all must confront.
Why did Kore-eda choose to tell this story in Korea?
He first encountered baby mailboxes in 2012 during a visit to Japan, but the South Korean context revealed a broader and more nuanced discussion. The vulnerability of a child inside a box, accessible to anyone and with an unknown future, opened many lines of inquiry about how society chooses to respond to the most fragile among us. The director also wanted to work with actor Song Kang-ho, renowned worldwide for Parasite and celebrated for his Palme d’Or–winning performance in Broker. Bringing these elements together promised a compelling collaboration that could explore the idea from multiple angles.
So while the film leans into comedy in its tone, there are clear parallels to A Family Affair, correct?
Many observers view them as a diptych, sharing a core concern: what family means when traditional ties are absent. For Kore-eda, family is less a bloodline and more a vessel carrying life and meaning. He wrote both projects around the same time, noticing how their common threads run deep. Yet with this new work, the focus shifts toward a more active, outward-facing social critique rather than merely intimate examination of poverty in Japan. The aim was to harness a slightly more kinetic energy while still probing the same human questions that define his work.
Some critics have suggested an anti-abortion reading of the film. How does Kore-eda respond to that interpretation?
The filmmaker emphasizes that no explicit stance on abortion was intended. He views the surrounding debate as a misreading rather than a deliberate provocation. The timing of the film’s release in Korea, coinciding with shifts in U.S. law, may have shaped perceptions, but the goal was never to argue for or against bringing a child into the world. Rather, the story centers on what happiness could look like for a child in the world they ultimately inhabit. From this perspective, abortion is framed as a personal matter for women and those who bear that responsibility, not a topic for the director to adjudicate on behalf of any audience.
Did the controversy affect Kore-eda personally or professionally?
Some critics tend to pin a single message on a movie, which can limit both the work and the filmmaker. For Kore-eda, baby mailboxes act as an acoustical space where many viewpoints converge. They invite dialogue rather than a monolithic reading. The director welcomed diverse interpretations, believing that any discussion is valuable because people will perceive the story through their own life experiences. The aim was never to prescribe a single takeaway; instead, it’s about encouraging conversation across different audiences.
In a world growing more polarized, does the filmmaker feel pressure to self-censor when tackling sensitive topics?
When considering how a film will be received in diverse countries, one cannot entirely shield the project from interpretation. In South Korea, abortion was illegal until a decade ago, a historical fact that shaped the context in which mailboxes proliferated. Still, censoring viewpoints seems unnecessary and counterproductive. The work reflects a broad spectrum of opinions, inviting viewers to weigh contrasting perspectives rather than settling on a single verdict.
There is a thread of critique of Japanese society that runs through Kore-eda’s work, though the current film takes place outside Japan.
Japanese society has undergone significant changes since the earlier decades when certain career paths felt secure and life paths seemed predictable. The nation has witnessed widening poverty and the erosion of a robust middle class, even as the term “working poor” has entered common usage. Despite these shifts, many people remain unaware or unaccepting of the deeper social strains. Kore-eda notes these transformations with a measured, humane gaze, using the narrative to illuminate the human impact of economic pressure and social exclusion, while maintaining a hopeful undercurrent about resilience and connection.