Born in Tokyo in 1981, filmmaker Tetsuya Mariko began his creative journey making short films while studying at Hosei University. Early works such as The Far East Apartment (2003) and Mariko’s 30 Pirates (2004) earned him early awards, with the latter winning the Grand Prix at the Yubari International Fantastic Film Festival. His debut feature, Yellow Kid, completed during his graduate studies at Tokyo University of the Arts, received the New Director Grand Prix at the Takasaki Film Festival and marked the emergence of a distinctive cinematic voice.

Mariko has since become known for his unflinching storytelling – films that dissect the fractures of contemporary life with emotional ferocity. His 2016 feature Destruction Babies gained international recognition, winning the Golden Leopard for Best New Director at the Locarno Film Festival, while Miyamoto (2019) earned him the Nikkan Sports Film Award for Best Director.

Now, with Dear Stranger (2025), Mariko ventures beyond Japan for the first time, making a haunting film where he tackles subjects of identity, alienation, and the unspoken violences that exist within families. Following the film’s international premiere at the Busan International Film Festival, we sat down with Mariko to discuss his latest project, its landscape, and the experience of working outside Japan for the first time.

View of the Arts: Your film captures New York in shadows and muted neon, giving the city a tangible presence. How did you work with Yasuyuki Sasaki to achieve this visual style, and what conversations shaped the look of the film?

Tetsuya Mariko: Before starting this film, we first needed to learn the rules of shooting in the U.S. It was a process of trial and error, but having ample time to talk with Mr. Sasaki during the preparation stage was crucial for sharing the film’s worldview. Even though we were in America, we decided early on to ground ourselves by focusing on the importance of location scouting. Also, making a short film on 16mm before embarking on the feature became a kind of guideline. Since Dear Stranger was ultimately shot digitally, we didn’t chase after the look of film but instead tried to take advantage of digital’s strengths while developing the grading process.

VOA: Hidetoshi Nishijima and Gwei Lun-Mei bring incredible depth to Kenji and Jane. What drew you to these actors for these roles, and how did you approach the challenges of directing a largely English-language script with them?

TM: I approached both of them because I had already seen films they appeared in. I have watched Mr. Nishijima since I was a student; while cinema is something entirely constructed, the characters he portrays are so convincing that they make the audience believe in them as real. In contrast, Lun-Mei appears in front of the camera as she is, performing naturally as though she isn’t acting at all. Because their approaches are so different, the way they respected each other and clicked together—like the S and N poles of a magnet—was striking.

As for the challenge of English, I’m sure it was difficult for them, but for me, it was less of a problem than I expected. We made sure to spend plenty of time reading the script together and exchanging ideas about it. That mutual understanding helped us approach the shoot with confidence. Both Mr. Nishijima and Lun-Mei had a deep grasp of the film, and they were flexible in responding to sudden changes during production.

VOA: Donny, played by Julian Wang, appears sparingly yet carries weight in the story. How did you conceive this character, and what role do you see him playing in the larger narrative of Kenji and Jane’s lives?

TM: Characters like Donny – young people living on the margins of society – often appear in my films. During my research for this project, I came across the key theme of “abandoned places, abandoned people,” which also led me to discover ruins. Donny is certainly alive, yet he doesn’t know his real parents and hasn’t been able to integrate into society. I envisioned that focusing on his existence would be the spark that moves the story forward.

Jane has not forgotten him. Kenji, too, has never forgotten that this unseen figure exists somewhere. The two of them have always communicated, but precisely because they care for each other, they have avoided bringing up Donny directly. They weren’t hiding him so much as avoiding looking back at the past. I believe that when they finally face Donny, it marks the beginning of a new future for this family.

VOA: New York City almost becomes a character itself through Tu Duu-chih’s sound design. How did you collaborate with him and composer Jim O’Rourke to create a soundscape that complements the tone of the film?

TM: I was already fascinated by the many films Mr. Tu had worked on, so collaborating with him was an incredibly significant experience for me. First, I shared everything about the film’s worldview with him. He watched the film many times and crafted a sound design that was at once restrained yet striking. We engaged in detailed discussions at 3H Studio. Even under tight time constraints, we stuck with it persistently until the work was complete.

I first met Jim in Japan, and later, while he was traveling the world, we continued conversations online, sending him rough cuts to guide his compositions. Jim’s music determined the direction of the film. After he gave us the first piece, he suggested composing the ending theme as well, saying he wanted to create music that would encompass everything – the journeys of Kenji, Jane, Kai, and Donny. That made me very happy. The final piece he delivered truly closes the film beautifully – it’s rough around the edges, yet profoundly beautiful.

VOA: You describe the emotional distance and silence between Kenji and Jane as “cold violence.” How did you translate this subtle, internal form of conflict into visual and narrative choices on screen?

TM: That stems first from the situations they are in and the unseen backgrounds behind them. Jane, having moved to America with her family, has worked hard to adapt, even putting her puppetry aside to devote herself to raising their child. Kenji, on the other hand, is still struggling for tenure and feels that pressure. For both of them, their struggles are “for the sake of the family” but also expressions of their own hardship. Whether it can be called “cold violence” or not, I think it’s a form of stress that anyone can experience in daily life.

Some viewers have told me they couldn’t forgive Jane for neglecting child-rearing and only complaining to her husband, while others said Kenji was too much of a failure as a husband to sympathise with. On the other hand, some felt the couple’s balance was exquisite and that the film revealed new emotions with each viewing. The film doesn’t try to pose a riddle to the audience, nor is it doing anything deliberately complicated. That’s why interpretations and impressions vary depending on each viewer. This was already present in the script stage, and I found that interesting as I continued writing. During editing, I realised that even small changes could make it a different film, so I carefully connected the pieces while keeping the balance of the story in mind.

VOA: The film shifts between English, Japanese, and Mandarin. How did the multilingual aspect influence your directing process, and what challenges or insights did it bring to portraying communication and miscommunication?

TM: Because we began with the premise that language barriers existed, I made sure to communicate carefully. Of course, we did thorough table reads in advance, but we also scheduled a 30-minute script reading before shooting every single scene – even if the actors were both American. By sharing this plan with the crew beforehand, it never became a scheduling issue, and I believe it was meaningful for both actors and crew to connect right before the actual shoot.

The main takeaway was that careful communication is important, even when everyone speaks the same language. And thinking back, since the cast and crew this time all managed to understand one another, there were no major obstacles. But in another case, if mutual understanding were lacking, then no matter how skilled someone might be, that would be an issue to resolve before anything else.

VOA: d entirely in New York, the city feels both alien and intimate for your characters. How did your own experiences in the United States inform your depiction of displacement, belonging, and the immigrant experience?

TM: During my year-long stay, I saw many people living overseas for different reasons. Some were there temporarily for work, some had moved as children like Jane, and others had been away for decades and no longer had anyone to return to in their home country.

Being in Japan, I might have lost sight of my identity or the importance of family and community, but living in the U.S. made me more aware of these things. In portraying the characters in this film, I tried as much as possible to adopt the perspective of people living there. I wanted to depict them with respect for their struggles and their determination to live fully despite hardship.

Written and interviewed by Maggie Gogler

Featured image courtesy of Tetsuya Mariko

_{Dear Stranger has also been selected as the Closing Night Film at the upcoming Taipei Golden Horse Film Festival.}

_{View of the Arts is an online publication dedicated to films, music, and the arts, with a strong focus on the Asian entertainment industry. With rich content already available to our readers, we aim to expand our reach and grow alongside our audience by delving deeper into emerging platforms such as K-pop and Asian music more broadly. At the same time, we remain committed to exploring the vibrant and ever-evolving global landscape of film, music, and the arts, celebrating the immense talent and creativity that define these industries worldwide.}