NEW YORK — Acclaimed Japanese director Sho Miyake has made his way to the United States, bringing with him two introspective feature films that delve into the quiet struggles of human connection. Small, Slow But Steady and Two Seasons, Two Strangers showcase Miyake's signature style of naturalistic portraits, where characters grapple with isolation and the subtle discomforts of everyday life. The director, whose work has garnered international praise, recently spoke with The Verge ahead of the U.S. theatrical debut of Two Seasons, Two Strangers, offering insights into his creative process and the existential questions that drive his storytelling.
Miyake's arrival coincides with growing interest in his films on the global stage. Small, Slow But Steady, which premiered at the New Directors/New Films festival in New York, follows Keiko, a deaf boxer played by Yukino Kishii, as she navigates her ambition in the ring amid personal upheavals. The story tenderly balances Keiko's drive for her first victory with the malaise that follows success, particularly as her longtime trainer's health declines and disrupts her routine. Now available on demand in the U.S., the film exemplifies Miyake's affinity for characters who feel increasingly distanced from society.
His latest work, Two Seasons, Two Strangers, builds on these themes with a more ambitious structure. The film opens and closes with screenwriter Li, portrayed by Shim Eun-kyung, at her desk, but weaves in layered narratives inspired by renowned cartoonist Yoshiharu Tsuge's works A View of the Seaside and Mr. Ben and His Igloo. This creates a film-within-a-film dynamic, reminiscent of a manga unfolding in real time. Miyake's innovative approach earned him the Golden Leopard award at the Locarno Film Festival earlier this year, highlighting the film's structural ingenuity and its exploration of human isolation.
In an interview with The Verge, conducted through a translator and edited for clarity, Miyake reflected on the characters that populate his films. He expressed a particular fondness for those who are "clumsy but honest," noting, "To be honest, I think for myself, almost in a bad sense, I’m a bit too slick in that I can find ways to kind of be dishonest with myself or lie to myself. So I think that it’s aspirational when my characters are clumsy, but at least very honest. It’s something that I aspire to." This personal admission underscores the aspirational quality he infuses into his protagonists, who often confront low-stakes dilemmas that carry profound emotional weight.
Looking back on Small, Slow But Steady, Miyake drew a direct parallel between the film's title and his filmmaking philosophy. "I think that Small, Slow But Steady reflects not only my approach to filmmaking, but also how I see that the world might change," he said. "When I was younger, I thought things don’t change overnight, but now I see that these small invisible efforts, the culmination of these can lead to greater changes both in society." He emphasized the importance of meticulous attention to each scene, explaining that while a single moment might not captivate audiences, their collective impact forms a compelling whole.
One memorable sequence in the film captures this ethos: a shot of dust particles illuminated in the morning light at the boxing gym. Miyake described it as an indulgent choice, recalling how the crew rose early to film it despite the presence of actors. "That’s actually one of my favorite shots in the film and it felt very indulgent in a sense because I had all these stars and actors on set, but there we were waking up early in the morning to film dust that’s clinging to the air," he told The Verge. "So I think that shot is an example of how I want to show these ordinarily invisible things and make sure that we don’t overlook them." The moment, he added, moved the entire team, reinforcing the value of capturing the ephemeral.
For Two Seasons, Two Strangers, Miyake's ideal writing environment blends solitude with inspiration from the outside world. He prefers a quiet desk for drafting but finds his best ideas while walking his neighborhood streets. "First and foremost, I want to be able to walk around my neighborhood and find a really pleasant street to walk down, because of course when I’m writing, I want to be at a desk in the quiet," he explained. "But as I’m walking is usually when I get my best ideas." This routine mirrors the film's serene opening, where Li pens her script in a picturesque setting, setting the tone for tales of connection and solitude.
At the heart of Miyake's work lies a fascination with existential inquiries, a curiosity that dates back to his childhood. "Even from when I was very young and even when I was a child, I thought a lot about why we are alive," he shared. "And I don’t mean to say that in, like, a depressed sense. It was more just a genuine sense of curiosity around that question." As an adult, these ponderings have grown heavier, but Miyake reframes them positively through art. "But if I try to change the form of that question: Why do we make films? Why do we make photographs? Why do we paint pictures? Just changing the format of that question makes me feel very positively about that," he said. In his new film, this manifests as questions about storytelling and travel, while in Small, Slow But Steady, it probes why Keiko persists in boxing.
The structural boldness of Two Seasons, Two Strangers draws from diverse influences. While critics have noted echoes of directors like Hong Sangsoo and Ryusuke Hamaguchi, Miyake pointed to Buster Keaton's 1924 silent film Sherlock Jr. as the primary inspiration. In Keaton's movie, a projectionist dreams himself into the screen, pioneering the film-within-a-film concept and questioning cinema's ties to reality. "Of course, the two directors that you mentioned are incredibly important to me, but I think the base of this film and the biggest inspiration was Buster Keaton’s Sherlock Jr.," Miyake stated. "I think that film is exploring the idea of what is cinema and what is cinema’s relationship to life."
Miyake's characters often navigate personal stakes that resonate deeply within their communities. He acknowledged this pattern but highlighted a shift in his current project, which he is editing. Unlike previous works focused on self-interest, this one centers a protagonist acting for others. "Actually, the film that I’m currently editing features a protagonist that instead of acting for themselves is acting for others," he said. "So that has really shifted the structure of the film, and I think it’s a new approach for myself." Regardless, the core remains interaction and improvement within one's surroundings, evolving from individual happiness to communal well-being.
Technically, Two Seasons, Two Strangers marks a departure from Miyake's prior films, which were shot on 35mm film. This project went digital for practical and artistic reasons. Harsh conditions—including ocean scenes and subzero temperatures—made film too risky, he explained. More conceptually, digital suited the manga's static origins. "With digital, as long as nothing is moving within the scene, it really truly just looks like a photograph," Miyake noted. "So that also allows for the smallest of movements to be very surprising and shocking for the viewer. It’s as if the manga has come to life." This choice enhances the film's ability to animate Tsuge's illustrations, bridging comics and cinema.
Miyake's films continue a tradition in Japanese cinema of subtle, character-driven narratives that prioritize emotional authenticity over spectacle. His growing filmography, including earlier works that also emphasize seclusion, positions him as a voice for those on society's fringes. The U.S. release of Two Seasons, Two Strangers—following Small, Slow But Steady's availability—offers American audiences a chance to engage with these themes, especially as global festivals like Locarno amplify his reach.
Broader implications of Miyake's approach lie in its commentary on incremental change. In a world often dominated by rapid shifts, his belief in "small, slow but steady" progress resonates, whether in personal growth, societal evolution, or artistic creation. As he contemplates technology's role, Miyake remains unfazed by current trends. When asked about AI's impact on his work, he simply replied, "I don’t think about it at all." This detachment allows him to focus on human stories, undiluted by digital distractions.
Looking ahead, Miyake's next film promises further evolution, with its emphasis on altruism suggesting a maturation in his thematic exploration. As Two Seasons, Two Strangers hits theaters, it invites viewers to ponder their own existential curiosities through quiet, honest lenses. For a director who finds inspiration in morning dust and neighborhood walks, the future holds potential for more profound, unassuming revelations.
