How Dare You? (ふつうの子ども, Mipo O, 2025)

“I told you to shut up about that,” Kokoa’s mother (Kumi Takiuchi) tells her after she gets caught with two other children trying to start an environmental revolution by releasing cows from their paddock. It’s not difficult to see why Kokoa (Ruri) feels so strongly about global warming even if it’s probably her home environment that she most wants to change given adult indifference to climate issues, though Mipo O’s charming family dramedy How Dare You? (ふつうの子ども, Futsu no Kodomo) is less about the issues themselves than the relationships between the children and the adults around them.

The point being that Kokoa hates adults for trashing the world and creating an environment in which she feels it’s impossible to live. Fellow student Yuishi (Tetta Shimada) is drawn to her Greta Thunberg-style speech in class having just embarrassed himself with an essay about his toilet habits and suddenly develops an interest in the environment as a means of getting close to her. Which isn’t to say that he didn’t really care before. In this semi-rural area, he and his friends still go outside every day to catch woodlice to feed his friend Soma’s lizards, and Yuishi is also very keen on animals in general. He’s sympathetic to the cause, but on the other hand, is only really into this because of Kokoa who pretty much ignores him in favour of class bad boy Haruto (Yota Mimoto) who tells her that they need to take “action” to wake the adults up or no one’s going to listen to a bunch of kids whining about methane emissions. 

There is something pleasantly old-fashioned about their tactics which include cutting letters out of magazines to make protest signs they hang up all over town telling people not buy so much stuff, eat meat, or drive cars. But while the other two are increasingly emboldened their actions and their revolutionary activities begin to get out of hand, Yuishi finds himself conflicted. When they spot similar signs springing up made by other kids they don’t know, Kokoa and Haruto are annoyed rather than pleased that more people are joining the cause. Yuishi agrees with a sign saying people should catch the bus because it’s better than driving a car even if buses also pollute while Haruto opposes it. But he also points out that the firework rockets Haruto has bought for another action give off CO2, so perhaps they shouldn’t use them. He tries to deescalate and avoids becoming radicalised, but is eventually bullied into going along with the other two and suggests releasing the local farmer’s cows as their next protest assuming it’s a “nice” thing to do and less aggressive than some of Haruto’s ideas.

But they’re still just children and don’t really understand the consequences of their actions. After all, what’s a wild cow supposed to do? It doesn’t occur to them that the cows could get hurt or end up causing accidents and damage, let alone that they may alienate the local community who are already fed up with their stunts because it’s affecting their livelihoods. Of course, this is also part of the problem. The adults ignore the children because what they’re saying is inconvenient for the way they live their lives under capitalism which isn’t something they think they could change even if they wanted to which they likely don’t. Yuishi’s sympathetic mother is forever reading books about how to raise children well, and so she tries to listen to Yuishi but also “corrects” him in subtle ways like hiding meat in his spring roll after he tells he wants to give up eating it for the environment. Though she may have correctly assumed that he’s not really serious about it and tells him what she’s done after his first bite of the spring roll, there’s no getting around the fact that just as Kokoa said she’s not really listening. Nor does she sort her rubbish and recycling responsibly. When Yuishi looks up global warming on his tablet, his mother remembers being told about this at school too, which just goes to show how long this has been going on and how easily everyone forgot about the ozone layer panic of 1980s and 90s.

Nevertheless, the gradual escalation of the children’s activities towards something akin to ecoterrorism echoing the student protest movement on the 1960s satirises the dangers of radicalisation especially as neither of the boys are really invested in the cause and are only there because they’re each drawn to Kokoa who remains intense and implacable. Their true natures are exposed when they’re caught with only Yuishi stoic and remorseful, admitting it was his idea to release the cows and that he did it because he liked Kokoa and wanted her to like him back, while Haruto spends the entire time crying in his mother’s arms and Kokoa glares at everyone while reciting environmental statistics. Maybe she isn’t overly invested either so much as trying to regain control over her life and using cold hard facts as an escape from her overbearing mother who liked her better when she was “sweet” and ‘cute” and never asked any inconvenient questions. Even so, there is something very charming about the children’s earnestness that’s largely lost on the well-meaning adults around them who may be trying their best in lots of other ways but have already given in to the idea that the world can’t be changed and nothing they do makes a difference so there’s no point doing anything. Yuishi at least has learned some valuable lessons, if only that things go better when you’re straightforward and honest your feelings even if it might be embarrassing in the moment.


How Dare You? screens 20th July as part of this year’s New York Asian Film Festival.

Original trailer (English subtitles)

Living in Two Worlds (ぼくが生きてる、ふたつの世界, Mipo O, 2024)

Mipo O had been quietly building a reputation as one of Japan’s most promising young indie directors with such lauded films as The Light Shines Only There but has been on an extended hiatus since 2015’s Being Good. Living in Two Worlds (ぼくが生きてる、ふたつの世界, Boku ga Ikiteru, Futatsu no Sekai) marks her return to filmmaking after taking a break to raise a family and, adapted from from an autobiographical book by Daisuke Igarashi, not only explores the realities faced by the deaf community but the complicated relationship between a son and his mother.

Indeed, at times the issue is less that both of Daisuke’s (Ryo Yoshizawa) parents are deaf as it is that he does not listen. When he becomes a teenager, his mother Akiko (Akiko Oshidari) spends a huge amount of money on a high tech hearing aid because she wants to hear his voice, though most of what he says to her is hurtful and unpleasant. His older self is probably regretful, ashamed of the way he treated his mother in particular but also in regards to his rejection of his family because he felt embarrassed by their difference in what is a fiercely conformist culture. He doesn’t give his mother a letter about parents’ day because he doesn’t want her to come and also thinks it would be pointless because she wouldn’t be able to hear anything anyway. Later he tries to get his grandmother to come with him to a parent teacher meeting about his plans for high school and beyond, telling his mother she’d only be in the way. In fact, the meeting is quite awkward because the teacher talks directly to him without trying to include Akiko while Daisuke makes infrequent signs under the table as if embarrassed to have the teacher see them.

As a young child, Daisuke had interpreted for his mother using sign language publicly despite the awkward attitude towards it at home. His grandmother writes things down on paper instead, telling him that it’s too difficult for her to learn. That doesn’t make sense to his young brain as after all he’s picked it up since birth. But this early tension perhaps contributes to his increasingly conflicted feelings. When he brings a friend home, he asks him why his mother speaks in such a funny way but of course it’s normal to Daisuke and this perhaps innocent question begins to cement for him that his family isn’t “normal” and he isn’t like the other children. Resentment towards his mother only grows to the point he begins to blame all of his problems on her including his failure to get into the better high school though she has done nothing but support and encourage him. As she points out, she never had any choice about her schooling and received little education because her parents thought she’d recover her hearing and refused to send her to a specialist school until she was 14 meaning she was just sat there all day twiddling her thumbs while unable to make friends with hearing children who mostly ignored her.

The parents were also against the idea of her marrying her husband Yosuke (Akito Imai) because he was also deaf, nor did they support their decision to have a child believing two deaf parents would not be able to raise one safely or effectively. Such attitudes lay bare the lingering stigma towards disability which remains even within the family unit. Unable to separate himself from being the child of working class deaf parents, the teenage Daisuke abruptly moves to Tokyo with a vague idea of becoming an actor signalling his internal search for an independent identity. The film hints that his liminal status existing between the worlds of the hearing and the deaf has left him with subpar communication skills as seen in his repeated faux pas at job interviews until he finally tells the truth and is offered a job on the spot. There’s an intimacy involved in his interactions with his parents which often can’t be understood by others, but also a less pleasant undercurrent in the way these interplay with speech and his own decisions of when to switch between dialogue and sign. 

Having gone to Tokyo to escape being the child of deaf parents, he discovers that being “ordinary” doesn’t really suit him either and only begins to accept his identity after meeting a deaf woman at a pachinko parlour who invites him to her class for learning sign language in a more a formal way while another of her pupils gently explains to him that though he means well he sometimes does them a disservice by taking over as a hearing person when he should let them do the things they can do for themselves. The absence of musical score and variation in the sound mix emphasise Daisuke’s transition between worlds and his own attempts to locate himself within them eventually discovering the equilibrium that allows him to realise he was the one who couldn’t hear along though his mother had always been talking to him. Touching but resisting sentimentality, O’s poignant drama never shies away from the failings of its protagonist but equally from those of the society within which he lives that can itself be unwelcoming of difference.


Living in Two Worlds screened as part of this year’s BFI London Film Festival

International trailer (English subtitles)

Being Good (きみはいい子, Mipo O, 2015)

Being Goog J poster“Being good”. What does that mean? Is it as simple as “not being bad” (whatever that means) or perhaps it’s just abiding by the moral conventions of your society though those may be, no – are, questionable ideas in themselves. Mipo O follows up her hard hitting modern romance The Light Shines Only There by attempting to answer this question through looking at the stories of three ordinary people whose lives are touched by human cruelty.

The film begins with newbie teacher Okano (Kengo Kora) who is still trying to adjust to the extremely stressful life of a primary school teacher in charge of 38 little guys and girls. As he’s young and he’s only just started he’s filled with enthusiasm and is intent on doing his best to make a difference. On the other hand, he’s a young man with a private life of his own to think about and sometimes he’s just too tired to want to be bothered with a bunch of kids intentionally trying to push his buttons. When he notices one of the pupils hanging around the schoolyard everyday long after he should have gone home, he begins to worry about the boy’s life outside of school.

Strand two also features the life of an abused child as stressed out mother Masami (Machiko Ono) struggles to cope with her three year old daughter Ayane while her husband is frequently abroad on business. Having been an abused child herself, Masami enters a vicious cycle of hating herself for treating her daughter the way she does and resenting Ayane even more for making her feel this way. After becoming friends with a cheerful woman who seems completely at ease with her two rowdy kids, there may be a better way out on offer for Masami and Ayane.

The third tale is a little different than the other two as it encompasses themes of lonely older people in Japan’s rapidly ageing society and the position of those who are different from the norm. Akiko lost her entire family during the war and never had children of her own so she’s all alone now. Every evening while she’s sweeping the steps a young boy says “hello, goodbye” to her as he walks past. One day the boy is in a terrible panic because he’s somehow lost his house key but Akiko calms him down and takes him inside until his mother can come and fetch him.

Okano is full of good intentions. He wants to think himself a “good” person and genuinely wants to look after the young lives placed in his care. However, he is still young, inexperienced and a little bit vain so that the slightest bit of criticism niggles at him. Simply put, he just doesn’t really know what to do and several of his ideas backfire quite spectacularly or appear extremely ill-conceived. Some of this is still about him and his own idea of his being a “good person” rather than an altruistic desire to help the children under his care.

The same, however, cannot be said of the elderly lady who still takes such delight in the falling cherry blossoms which waft down from the school to her small suburban house. Akiko might be lonely, but there’s nothing selfish in the warmth she extends to others. When Hyato’s mother, Kazumi, arrives to fetch him, she’s immediately mortified, convinced that her son must have caused immense levels of trouble for this little old lady. Akiko claims not even to have noticed Hyato’s differences but remarks on how polite he is greeting her every evening and that he’s been the perfect houseguest – in fact she was enjoying herself so much she’s a little sorry Kazumi has turned up so quickly. Kazumi is completely overwhelmed by Akiko’s kindness – it’s the first time she’s ever heard anyone say something nice about her son rather than having people criticise him for being different. In fact, sometimes even she begins to forget how “good” he can be.

In the case of Masami and her daughter Ayane, it’s not that Masami is “bad” person but is responding to a cycle of violence that she finds impossible to escape. Masami doesn’t cope well with stressful situations, dislikes noise and disorder and has impossibly high (and arbitrary) standards for her daughter which result in “discipline” through physical violence. Nevertheless, Ayane loves her mother and, even if Masami recoils when Ayane tries to hug her, reacts with horror to cheerful friend Yoko’s joke of adopting her into their family. Ayane wants to be like her mum, taking delight in wearing a matching pair of shoes even if that means she can’t play with the other kids. As Masami was abused, so she abuses – will the cycle continue with Ayane? Luckily, the pair may have found a more gentle solution in the form of the kindly Yoko who proves far wiser than one would suspect.

As Okano’s sister tells him, when you’re nice to children, they’re nice to others. If everyone could be nicer to their children perhaps we could have a nicer world. The young boy whom Okano is trying to save has come to believe that he’s a “bad kid” – proven by the fact that Santa never comes to their house. He can’t bring himself to talk about his step father to his teachers and Okano’s interventions only make things worse for the boy. He needs someone to show him that he’s not at fault and that the world is not a bad place but it will take more than just “good will” to solve the problem. Sometimes, all you can do is knock on the door.


Reviewed as part of the Japan Foundation Touring Film Programme 2016.

This is the original trailer for the film but in my opinion it contains a few spoilers so bear that in mind if you plan on watching in the near future: