On the occasion of the Asian Film Festival in Rome, we had the pleasure of meeting Kōji Fukada, one of the most sensitive and rigorous authors of contemporary Japanese cinema. With his film Love on Trial, awarded at the Asian Film Festival with the Special Mention of the UNINT Students’ Jury (University of International Studies of Rome), director Kōji Fukada addresses with clarity and depth complex themes such as love, control, and social judgment, placing them within a narrative that reflects on the often invisible dynamics of the entertainment industry.
During this interview, Fukada guided us through the creative process that shaped the film, sharing his perspective on individual freedom, the limits imposed by systems, and the role of cinema as a tool for critically observing contemporary reality.
Good morning Mr. Fukada. First of all, we would like to sincerely thank you for your availability in being interviewed by the students of the Liceo Tito Lucrezio Caro. Our students were deeply enthusiastic about your kindness and professionalism.
Recent reports suggest that J-pop artists often sign contracts that include “no dating” clauses. Love on Trial explores love within a context of judgment and regulation: how did this idea come about? Is it a narrative coincidence, or were you directly inspired by this real phenomenon?
The idea came after reading a newspaper article that told the story of a J-pop idol who was sued by her agency for violating the “no love” clause, guilty of falling in love with a fan. This story deeply struck me, as it reflects a phenomenon that is still very widespread in the J-pop industry. It was precisely from this inspiration that the need arose to tell a similar story, capable of exploring the often invisible dynamics that regulate both the private and public lives of artists.
The scene in which the actor is suspended in the air by a thread is beautiful. What kind of special effects did you use to create such a magical moment?
Rather than relying on special effects, I wanted to make that moment deeply meaningful by highlighting the different status of the two protagonists. On one side, the J-pop idol, deprived of freedom and bound by restrictive contracts that determine every aspect of her life; on the other, a street artist, free to choose his own path. I chose this figure precisely because it naturally represents the emblem of freedom and independence, both moral and artistic.
How much creative freedom do you give your actors in building their characters?
When I direct a film, I always try to build a strong professional harmony with the actors, sharing with them how to approach and interpret each scene. For me, freedom is a fundamental value: an artist is able to express themselves at their best when they can maintain their naturalness, while still being guided within a clear directorial vision.
We noticed that in your films you often take on multiple roles beyond directing: producer, screenwriter, set designer. How do you manage all of this while maintaining coherence and quality, and how important is collaboration with other professionals for you?
I prefer to personally oversee the construction of a film, because dealing with too many voices is often not productive and risks distancing me from the vision and goals I want to achieve.
Is there an Italian director who has influenced or inspired your way of working? If so, why in particular?
I deeply admire Federico Fellini, so much so that I was inspired by the figure of the street performer in the film Le notti di Cabiria. This choice comes from the fact that I consider street artists among the freest people in the world: they embody an authentic freedom, both human and artistic. I needed a figure that could represent this ideal within Love on Trial, and the reference to Fellini felt natural and deeply meaningful to me. There is also an Italian actor I would particularly like to work with: Nanni Moretti. I consider him a unique artist, capable of combining depth, irony, and an extremely personal view of the world. In his films, he conveys authentic emotions while always maintaining a strong authorial identity. I believe his sensitivity and his way of being on screen, so natural yet rich with meaning would perfectly align with the kind of cinema I strive to create.
If you had to encapsulate Love on Trial in a single question for your audience, what would it be?
Rather than giving an answer, I would prefer to ask the audience a question: in the place of the J-pop idol, what would you do?
Thank you, Mr. Fukada Koji.
