It will be a second language that we will have to learn from scratch, making it uncomfortable at times, difficult, incomprehensible, impenetrable or disturbing in other moments, but the consequence is simple enough to speak for itself: our world, not only speaking in cinematic terms, will broaden and grow. And that’s exactly why we love cinema so much in the first place, to discover and travel to new, different places, isn’t it?

From all the different cinemas possible out there, I will briefly speak about the Japanese one, an industry as long and rich as any other that has many interesting things to show to us, Western viewers, about an art we think we know so well. In a global world such as ours, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to find differences, to spot authentic and idiosyncratic cultural expressions, yet at the same time peculiarities and localisms are stronger than ever in their fight to survive; this dichotomy between universal and specific explains perfectly the identity of the Japanese cinema of the XXI century, and it’s vital to understand its complexity and diversity. Japan produces over 400 movies per year, one of the biggest industries in the world, and they account for a very respectable figure in the local box office figures. But its production and, most important, its reception, is heavily fragmented, and this is something very peculiar about its industry: there is not only one Japanese cinema we should talk about, but three, all of them clearly defined by specific boundaries, marketed at specific audiences and shaped by different intentions, themes, styles. This is not unique from Japan, of course, as it happens in any other major industry, but perhaps this fragmentation is more visible and obvious here than anywhere else, as it is simply not possible to speak about “Japanese cinema” in any reasonable terms without establishing first this triple coexistence of cinematic universes. The first group is, personally, the least interesting from a cultural and aesthetical point of view: mainstream Japanese cinema. Its conventions follow Hollywood standards, trying to appeal to broad segments of the population, leaving small room for individual expression, local flavor or cultural awareness; if there is any, normally it remains strictly between the limits of cultural stereotypes, thus being simply a Japanese version of the Western canon. We could also include here the genre pieces, such as the horror films, which began maybe as more independent and creative pieces but, gradually, have become pure exercises of popular mass consumption cinema. Directors such as Hideo Nakata, Takashi Yamazaki, Isao Yukisada and Shinobu Yaguchi are good examples of this first group, important to keep the industry financially healthy, but not so exciting for the purpose of an artistic analysis. The second group is much more culturally concerned: anime. All forms of animation (from manga to anime) have become a part of Japanese lifestyle, manga books are the absolute bestsellers in the country, and exported everywhere else in the world; no surprise that anime movies usually fill the first spots of the national box office. The problem in this category is, perhaps, saturation, as the amount of products is enormous and there is not much space for creativity and variation in an overpopulated microcosm like this. Speaking exclusively about feature films (TV is a parallel and huge universe in this regard) we should always mention Hayao Miyazaki, the most recognizable name internationally, along with Isao Takahata, Satoshi Kon, Makoto Shinkai or Mamoru Hosoda, among many others. Finally, the third and last group, the one that maybe expresses more clearly something we could call “Japaneseness”, is the independent Japanese cinema, formed by a group of directors that share a common style and way of understanding cinema, though they work separately and with no real connection between them apart from a somehow coherent point of view. In my opinion, this group has some of the most interesting voices in contemporary cinema, but they are not exempt from dangers either: some of them have lost their touch after an initial success, trying to turn into a bit more mainstream, while others have isolated themselves trying to strictly remain inside the independent circuit. Names such as Hirokazu Koreeda, Kiyoshi Kurosawa, Takeshi Kitano, Takashi Miike, Naomi Kawase, Sion Sono or Toshiaki Toyoda are well known in the big film festivals around the world, and they have all filmed some of the most unique and exceptional pieces of filmmaking to come out of Japan in the last two decades. It takes a bit of time and will to start appreciating Japanese cinema in its most unique manifestations; we need to approach it with an open mind and a conscious effort at first, as it is a new alphabet we must learn, but once we start deciphering its symbols, its melodies, its topics, it all becomes a new part of ourselves that, most probably, will stay with us forever.