KOKUHO (Japanese) (2025) – A Life Devoted to the Art of Kabuki
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐
Kokuho simply blew me away. It is an epic, sweeping tale about one man’s lifelong quest to become the greatest kabuki performer in Japan, but beneath the spectacle is an intimate story about ambition, sacrifice, love, friendship and the moral compromises that come with dedicating one’s entire life to an art form.
The film follows Kikuo from his youth into old age, giving us a remarkably complete character arc as we witness the many highs and lows of his extraordinary journey. His pursuit of perfection in kabuki comes at a considerable personal cost, and the film is as much about the man behind the performer as it is about the art itself. It is a story of someone caught between an almost obsessive love for his craft and the responsibilities and obligations that life continually places in his path.
Directed by Japanese-Korean filmmaker Sang-il Lee, Kokuho is also an extraordinary visual experience. The film feels less like a conventional movie and more like a huge canvas of Japanese art brought to life. The imagery is lustrous, meticulously composed and often breathtaking, accompanied by a pounding, evocative score that gives the story an almost operatic quality.
But it is during the kabuki performances that the film truly becomes magical. Rather than rushing through the performances or using them merely as dramatic interludes, Lee allows the camera to pause and simply watch. The performances are often allowed to unfold almost uninterrupted, giving us time to appreciate the movements, gestures, costumes and rituals of kabuki. We are transported into the theatre and made to feel like members of the audience witnessing these performances in real time.
The cinematography is particularly impressive. Performances are captured from intimate angles and perspectives, both from the stage and from within the audience. The camera brings us remarkably close to the performers while still retaining the grandeur of the theatre. There is a tremendous amount of detail in every frame, and this attention to detail extends beyond the principal characters. Even those who occupy the background of a scene seem to have a presence and a life of their own. Nothing feels incidental. It is a subtle technique, but one that is masterfully executed and contributes enormously to the film’s immersive quality.
Yet Kokuho is never simply a showcase for kabuki. At its heart is a compelling human drama about the price of pursuing artistic greatness. Kikuo’s journey is complicated by relationships, loyalties and moral obligations that constantly challenge his single-minded devotion to his craft. The film asks an intriguing question without necessarily providing an easy answer: how much of one’s life can be sacrificed in the pursuit of artistic perfection?
Ryo Yoshizawa is simply amazing as Kikuo. He convincingly portrays the character across the different stages of his life, allowing us to see not just the evolution of a performer but also the emotional transformation of a man. His kabuki performances are particularly impressive, possessing the precision, grace and theatricality necessary to make us believe that we are watching an accomplished kabuki actor rather than an actor performing kabuki for a film. The supporting cast is equally top-notch, with Ken Watanabe standing out as the experienced kabuki performer who becomes Kikuo’s mentor. His presence gives the film another dimension, representing both the traditions that Kikuo inherits and the enormous expectations that come with becoming the custodian of such an exacting art form.
Kokuho is, for me, a flawlessly executed masterpiece. It excels on virtually every level: storytelling, performances, cinematography, music and, most importantly, its ability to immerse us completely in the fascinating world of kabuki. It is one of those rare films where the sheer scale of the filmmaking is matched by the depth of the human story at its centre.
