Interview with Adrien Lacoste & Haya Nakazaki

Synopsis: An elegiac and lyrical exploration of mental illness set in Japan, shot in black in white. Seijiro, born into a family of architects, returns home to Japan after studying in Mexico for his grandfather's 80th birthday. Amidst family, he reminisces about a chance encounter with photographer Lana during a trip to photograph Japanese ruins. .

With Adrien Lacoste

IAG: I see a lot of parallels between your film and one of the all-time greatest avant-garde films--Hiroshima Mon Amour by Alain Resnais. Was that film an influence for you?

AL: I love Alain Resnais—he’s without a doubt my favorite French filmmaker. It’s hard to fully grasp now just how groundbreaking his work was at the time. I’m especially influenced by Hiroshima Mon Amour, which still feels so ahead of its time, and Last Year at Marienbad, which continues to inspire me with its enigmatic, dreamlike quality. In Hiroshima Mon Amour, I love how he explores complex themes - like memory, trauma, and time, using simple yet profound interactions between two characters. 

What draws me to Resnais’s style is his introspective and poetic approach. His films always feel personal but also universal. I also like the way he experiments with editing and nonlinear storytelling. It keeps things fluid and captivating, and it challenges the audience to see things from new perspectives.

There’s something hypnotic and disorienting about his films that completely pulls you in. They create a world where emotions and impressions matter more than traditional narratives. It’s bold, and it pushes boundaries, which is something I really admire and try to incorporate into my own work. Resnais reminds me that film can be more than just a story—it can be an experience.

IAG: Where did the story for Utakata come from?

AL: I wanted my first film to be very personal. The reason I came to Japan twelve years ago was to confront and overcome my own mental health issues. It felt natural for me to make a film centered around this theme. I started to imagine what it might be like for a young Japanese man, Seijiro, who faces great pressure from both society and his family, to experience similar struggles.

Living in Japan, I also came to understand that mental health is not often a topic of open discussion. Through this film, I wanted to shine a light on these issues and contribute to starting a conversation that I believe is essential.

IAG: The black-and-white cinematography is gorgeous. At any point in the pre-production process, did you even consider shooting it in color, or were you committed to B/W from the very beginning?

AL: The idea of going black and white came to me during the final stages of writing. I wanted to create a visual language that would fully immerse the audience into Seijiro’s world. Black and white isn’t inherently sad—it can be strikingly beautiful— and it offers an altered perception of reality, which felt fitting for the story.

Our cinematographer, Toshihiko Kizu, did a great job bringing the black-and-white imagery to life. He guided me through the challenges of shooting in this format. While removing color simplifies certain aspects, it also presents its own complexities, as we lose the ability to use color as a tool to emphasize characters or points of interest within the frame. This required us to be far more deliberate with our lighting and tonal contrasts, making sure every frame felt dynamic and evocative.

IAG: Let's get into some technical details. Did you shoot it in color and convert it to B/W in post-production? What was your process? 

AL: The rushes were initially recorded in color, but the entire creative process was executed in black and white. On set, we applied a black-and-white LUT to the monitors, which allowed the cast and crew to view the film in black and white as we filmed. The same approach carried into post-production—although the source files were in color, we edited using proxies (low-resolution files) rendered in black and white.

During the color grading stage, we applied a black-and-white LUT to the original source files, using it as the base for the grade. There again, since we couldn’t use color to create contrast, our colorist focused on luminance, playing with light and shadow to bring attention to specific characters or objects in the frame.

IAG: As a European filmmaker making a movie in Japan, I assume there were at least a few language and/or cultural barriers. What was that like?  

When I started production on Utakata, I had already spent eight years living in Japan, so I was somewhat familiar with the culture. That said, working on a project with a cast and crew from such different cultural backgrounds presented its challenges. However, everyone involved was incredibly patient and understanding. I was fortunate to have excellent Assistant Directors and Producers who played a crucial role in bridging the gap between the Western and Japanese teams, both linguistically and culturally. Their support really helped make the collaboration go smoothly.

IAG: What are three films or filmmakers that have inspired your work?

AL: I’m a big fan of Lee Chang-Dong. His raw, emotional storytelling never fails to surprise me—it feels deeply honest and real. In each of his films, there’s something unsettling and captivating about his characters. I really don’t know how he does it. It’s like watching a magic trick, the kind you know no one else could ever replicate.

Terrence Malick has also had a profound influence on my approach to filmmaking. He’s proof that a film can be both subtle and spectacular at the same time. His visuals are stunning, while his philosophical messages leave a lasting impression. His style is uniquely poetic, especially in his portrayal of nature, and it has deeply shaped the way I think about mood and atmosphere.

And then there’s David Lynch. Watching his films was a total eye-opener for me—a real slap in the face in the best way. I love his surreal, dreamlike style, which has inspired me to take creative risks and fully embrace the unusual.