I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 142 "Seven Samurai" - Ready! Eiji Kurosawa bows in shock!
So Hiroshi Nohara went to Asumi's office.

The office was not the bustling and noisy place he had expected, typical of senior management.

Only Asumi sat quietly behind that large desk.

There were no mountains of documents in front of him, only a brand-new script that had been read countless times and whose edges were slightly curled.

And a thick stack of comic storyboards, as thick as bricks.

Hearing the door open, Asumi looked up abruptly and exclaimed with delight, "Hiroshi-kun! You're finally back!"

Asuka jumped up from her seat and strode over to him, her face filled with undisguised elation and excitement: "You...you...are you really planning to drive us old folks into a corner before you're satisfied?"

This opening, filled with complaints, carries more weight than any praise.

Hiroshi Nohara simply smiled calmly, sat down on the sofa for guests, and said with composure, "Deputy Director Asumi, it seems you have already seen it."

"You've seen it?!" Asuka let out a long sigh of relief. "I've seen it more than just seen it! I've spent the last few days, except for sleeping and eating, watching it! Once, twice, three times... I even brought it home and let my daughter, who's in high school, watch it too!"

He paused, a strange, wry smile appearing on his refined face: "You know what? My daughter, who usually only knows how to chase after celebrities and read shoujo manga, cried all night after reading this, hugging our Shiba Inu that we've had for almost ten years. This morning, when she left home, she was still crying with red eyes, saying to me, 'Dad, you have to make this story into a film! You absolutely have to!'"

Upon hearing this, Hiroshi Nohara's smile deepened: "It seems your daughter is a very kind girl."

“This is no longer a matter of kindness!” Asumi sat back down in his seat, looking at Hiroshi Nohara with increasing emotion: “Hiroshi-kun, you… tell me honestly, how did you come up with this story?!”

He pointed to the script, his voice hoarse with excitement: "Loyalty! I know the core of this story is 'loyalty'! This... this is simply the most perfect spiritual totem tailor-made for our nation, which holds 'Bushido' as its guiding principle!"

"Moreover, the story is set in modern times! In the most familiar place, Shibuya Station! This... this is simply a stroke of genius!"

Asumi's eyes gleamed: "Do you know that the Tokyo Metropolitan Government is currently working on a 'Greater Tokyo Metropolitan Area' promotional plan? They're struggling to find a way to showcase Tokyo's modernity to the world without sacrificing human touch! Your story is like... a godsend! As long as we submit this project, not only will we have promotional resources, but I'm even confident we can secure a substantial 'cultural promotion' grant from the city government!"

This is not bragging.

Rather, it is because Asumi truly understands this aspect that he dares to speak so definitively and with such certainty.

"Deputy Director, you flatter me."

Hiroshi Nohara listened calmly, with just the right amount of humility: "Actually, this story isn't my original creation. It's just a legend I heard from the old people in my village in Akita Prefecture when I was a child. Plus, Akita Prefecture is famous for Akita dogs, so I guess I have a bit of a special feeling for this breed."

Hiroshi Nohara then asked, "So, I think our production department can put this script into the production review process now, right?"

Asuka remained silent.

The excitement on his face gradually faded, replaced by a sense of caution.

His tone also carried a hint of worry.

These are some of the concerns that Tomorrow Sea has been having these past few days.

“Hiroshi-kun, the script is divine, the idea is unparalleled. But…” He looked at Hiroshi Nohara, a deep worry flashing in his refined eyes: “Have you considered how difficult this project will be to execute?”

"The main character is a dog."

He pointed to the script, his voice tinged with helplessness: "Dogs don't have lines. All their emotions, all their performances, can only be conveyed through their eyes and actions. This... this places an almost impossible demand on the director's skill, the cinematography, and even the dog's own spirit!"

"We're not making an animated series like 'Tom and Jerry'! We're making a movie! How can a dog that can't talk possibly carry a two-hour movie? Will the audience... really buy into it?"

Tomorrow's concerns are not unfounded.

This is almost the most fatal problem that all filmmakers encounter when dealing with "animal themes".

However, Hiroshi Nohara simply smiled calmly, a smile that still held his absolute confidence.

“Deputy Director, rest assured.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it struck Asumi’s doubtful heart like a heavy hammer: “I have some preliminary ideas regarding the casting of ‘Hachiko.’ As for filming…”

He pointed to the thick stack of comic storyboards on the table, as thick as bricks, and a calm, serene smile, typical of a chess player, appeared on his lips.

"I assure you that as long as we strictly follow the instructions here, what we will produce will not be a simple animal movie. Rather, it will be a cinematic epic about 'love' and 'waiting,' highlighting 'loyalty,' a film that will move anyone with a heart."

Hiroshi Nohara is very confident.

The achievements of the previous life have already proven the success of this script.

And now.

All he needs to do is replicate it.

"This..." Asumi looked at the young man in front of her, who already possessed the aura of a king who could overlook the entire era. Her heart, which was already full of trust, was now taut like a fully drawn bowstring.

He was hesitating.

He was also pondering that this might be another new miracle created by Hiroshi Nohara.

but……

"Ugh……"

Asahi let out a long sigh, a sigh still filled with utter helplessness.

"Hiroshi-kun, I believe you. But... I'm afraid the board of directors won't believe you."

He rubbed his temples, a deep weariness appearing on his refined face: "Do you know that film projects are completely different concepts from the TV series and variety shows we did before?"

“Even if TV dramas and animations have poor ratings, we can always put them in late-night slots or sell them to local TV stations to recoup some of the costs. But movies are a one-off deal! If the theaters don't like them and the audience doesn't buy them, then the hundreds of millions invested will really be... a complete loss!”

“In our area, if a project fails, someone has to step up and take responsibility.”

As he spoke, a subtle, complex sense of regret, typical of someone with experience, flashed in his refined eyes: "My position as deputy director may sound prestigious, but I'm also sitting on a scalding hot oil pan. One wrong step and I'm doomed."

This is already speaking from the heart.

He knew that Tomorrow Sea was truly taking a huge risk for him and for this project.

"Deputy Director, I..." He was about to speak, about saying something that would reassure the other party.

"Dangdangdang——"

A crisp, rhythmic knock broke the heavy silence of the room.

"Please come in." Asuka frowned.

He doesn't like being disturbed.

The door was pushed open.

A figure, like a samurai sword drawn from its sheath, appeared at the doorway, carrying the indomitable spirit of a craftsman from a bygone era.

It was none other than Eiji Kurosawa, the master in the Japanese film industry known for his "samurai spirit."

"Tomorrow Sea, it's quite lively here."

Eiji Kurosawa's gaze calmly swept over the two men in the office with their different expressions, and finally landed on the young man who was smiling, nodding to him, and standing up to bow.

"Director Kurosawa?!" Asumi was completely stunned: "You... what brings you here?"

He knew that Eiji Kurosawa had been polishing his film just a few days ago.

"Can't I come?"

Eiji Kurosawa ignored him.

He simply took a step and walked up to the young man.

He didn't speak, but instead used his eyes, which had witnessed countless ups and downs of life, to carefully examine the young man in front of him who had stirred up the entire Japanese television industry.

His eyes held a look of melancholy.

"Nohara-kun."

He spoke slowly, his voice hoarse yet carrying immense weight: "I heard you're back from your vacation. This old man has run into some problems lately and wanted to talk to you... about the script."

These words were like a real atomic bomb, exploding in Asumi's mind!

He stared blankly at the scene before him, a scene brimming with magical realism. His already shocked heart was now completely overwhelmed by an even more absurd, almost unreal feeling!

Kurosawa Eiji!

That national treasure-level master, whom even the deputy director had to treat with utmost respect and address as "Director Kurosawa"!
That stubborn old man, known throughout the Japanese film industry for his "aloofness" and "obsession"!
Now, he actually... took the initiative to come to his door to find a young man who is even younger than his grandson, to "talk about the script"?
This...this is no longer just a simple matter of "valuing"!

This is clearly an equal partnership, a mutual appreciation between creators of the same level!
……

"Kurosawa-senpai and I... talked about the script?"

Hiroshi Nohara's heart skipped a beat, and a perfectly measured hint of surprise appeared on his signature gentle smile.

Of course he knew who Eiji Kurosawa was.

This man, who is practically a "living legend" in the Japanese film industry, has made samurai films full of tragic aesthetics that have long become a cultural symbol of an era, deeply imprinted in the memories of a generation.

But that's precisely why Hiroshi Nohara was even more puzzled.

In his view, Eiji Kurosawa is like a magnificent sculpture, full of classical beauty, that has been sealed in amber by time.

As for myself, I'm more like a wild child who's used to using the most modern Lego bricks to build bizarre new worlds, and I don't follow the rules.

How could people from two completely different eras and with two completely different creative philosophies... possibly intersect?
"Hahaha! Director Kurosawa! You are truly...a rare guest!"

Before Hiroshi Nohara could even speak, Asumi, standing to the side, was already the most enthusiastic host, the first to greet him.

He personally pulled out the single sofa that symbolized the distinguished guest status for Eiji Kurosawa, and then deftly took out the finest Gyokuro tea from his treasured tea caddy, carefully brewing it with a set of expensive-looking bone china teaware.

"Deputy Director, let's skip the formalities."

Eiji Kurosawa simply waved his hand impatiently, his face filled with the honesty and helplessness of a craftsman from the old era: "I really came here to ask Nohara-kun for advice."

He used the word "ask for advice".

“Nohara-kun.” Kurosawa Eiji spoke slowly, his voice still hoarse, and got straight to the point: “I’m here today for no other reason than to ask you to take a look at this for me.”

As he spoke, he placed a rather old-looking brown paper file folder heavily on the coffee table, making a dull thud.

Above, written in faded ink, were several powerful characters—

The Samurai in the Blacksmith's Shop.

Hiroshi Nohara looked at those words, then at Eiji Kurosawa's weary expression, and became even more surprised.

But it's easy to see that this "samurai spirit" of the film industry is probably facing a creative block.

"Director Kurosawa, you're too kind."

Hiroshi Nohara stood up with a smile, his posture humble but not obsequious: "I have read your works since I was a child, and every one of them is a timeless classic. I am a junior with limited knowledge and skills, how could I be qualified to point fingers at your scripts?"

"Enough with the nonsense." Eiji Kurosawa's brows furrowed even deeper. He pointed to the sofa opposite him. "Sit down and watch." Seeing this, Asumi quickly brought over the freshly brewed tea and tried to smooth things over. "Oh dear, Director Kurosawa, don't be so impatient. Hiroshi-kun just got back from his hometown; he must be tired from the journey. He needs to have some tea and catch his breath, shouldn't he?"

As he spoke, he handed a steaming cup of fragrant tea to Hiroshi Nohara, and from an angle where the two of them couldn't see him, he winked mischievously at him.

The meaning in his eyes was clear—"That old stubborn fellow has this bad temper, so please bear with him. But for him to personally come to ask for your advice, you're quite a figurehead in our Guandong faction!"

"Okay, sure." Hiroshi Nohara, of course, understood Eiji Kurosawa's temperament.

He smiled as he accepted the teacup, sat down on the soft sofa, and then slowly picked up the script that carried the perplexity of a master craftsman.

He didn't open it immediately, but glanced at Eiji Kurosawa first.

Although the old man still stood tall, there was a hint of desolation in the depths of his sharp eyes, a desolation that even he himself was unaware of.

Hiroshi Nohara felt a strange sense of camaraderie among creators.

He stopped being polite and simply calmly opened the script.

The story is simple, and very much like "Eiji Kurosawa".

A young man of humble origins who grew up in a blacksmith's shop harbors an unrealistic dream of becoming a true samurai.

By chance, he saved a down-on-his-luck warrior who was seriously injured and on the verge of death.

After burying the samurai, he inexplicably donned the armor that symbolized his status and honor, donned the sharp and deadly katana, and took the place of the dead man, embarking on an adventure filled with lies and glory.

With the fearless spirit of a newborn calf and the brute strength he had honed in the blacksmith's shop, he actually managed to wipe out a gang of bandits who were ravaging the village by sheer luck. He gained the appreciation of a cowardly local lord and was treated as an honored guest.

Up to this point, the story is still a standard tale of a triumphant underdog victory.

However, the reason why Eiji Kurosawa is Eiji Kurosawa is because he never bothers to tell a simple fairy tale.

The story takes a sudden turn in style in the second half.

That seemingly cowardly lord actually harbored deep hatred for the samurai class.

His parents died in a turmoil caused by warlords.

He admires the protagonist, but only to use him, this seemingly sharp "sword," to defend him against an invasion by an even more powerful group of warriors from an enemy country.

Ultimately, in that fierce battle to defend the city, the protagonist, leading a group of foot soldiers inspired by his false "samurai spirit," fought a bloody battle to the point of near annihilation, but successfully bought the lord the most precious time.

Just as the enemy warriors breached the city gates and thought victory was in sight, the seemingly cowardly lord on the city wall revealed a sinister smile.

Behind him, a whole row of arquebuses, exuding a chilling aura of death, purchased at great expense from merchants on Tanegashima, were aimed at the exhausted samurai below the castle.

"boom--!"

With a gunshot piercing the sky, the story came to an abrupt end.

The age of samurai ended with the advent of firearms.

A tragedy filled with deception and betrayal marks the end of an era.

"……call."

Hiroshi Nohara slowly closed the script, let out a long breath, and felt alright.

"How is it?" Eiji Kurosawa's voice carried a hint of barely perceptible tension.

"It's brilliant." Hiroshi Nohara gave the most apt evaluation: "Especially the twist at the end, it's a stroke of genius. Using the appearance of the musket to symbolize the end of an old era, this technique of seeing the big picture in the small details is full of your unique tragic aesthetics."

“Yes, yes!” Asumi nodded in agreement. He looked at Eiji Kurosawa and said, “Director Kurosawa, I guarantee that your script will gross over a billion yen as long as it’s made!”

However, faced with the praise from these two people, a deeper bitterness appeared on Eiji Kurosawa's weathered face.

"A billion?"

He chuckled self-deprecatingly, a laugh tinged with helplessness: "Asuka, you and I both know this. Eighty million of this billion is for the name 'Eiji Kurosawa.' If an unknown director were to make this film, the story would be lucky to get four or five hundred million at the box office."

He looked at Hiroshi Nohara, and for the first time, a trace of the confusion that belonged to a creator was revealed in his slightly cloudy eyes.

"Nohara-kun, to be honest, I've revised this script at least ten times. Every time, I feel that it... is still not enough."

“It’s too bland.” He tapped the script lightly with his knuckles, his voice filled with a disappointed frustration: “Although I added plot twists and deconstructed the samurai spirit, its core is still the same old thing: class, social stratum, samurai, lords, peasants, bandits… I’ve been making films about these things my whole life, telling stories about them my whole life. The audience is already tired of it. Even I’m almost sick of writing them myself.”

“I always feel that it…it’s missing something. Something new, something that can truly pierce this era. But I…I really can’t think of it.”

This giant who had dominated the Japanese film industry for half a century was like a lost child at this moment, with only lingering weariness and confusion in his sharp eyes.

Hiroshi Nohara listened quietly, his respect for his junior growing ever stronger.

He knew the old man wasn't after box office numbers.

He was pursuing an artistic breakthrough that would convince even himself.

And in his mind, the vast treasure trove of film art that had been dormant for so long, belonging to his previous life on Earth, was completely awakened at this moment by Eiji Kurosawa's pure pursuit of art.

He remembered that epic tale, which was also about the decline of the samurai class, but was even grander and more profound—"Seven Samurai"!
He remembered Kikuchiyo, who, like Kikuchiyo, came from a peasant background but exemplified the true meaning of a "real samurai" through her actions, a tragic figure.

He was reminded of that classic line, a line worthy of being recorded in film history, full of irony and insight, about the subtle yet cruel symbiotic relationship between "samurai" and "peasant".

"What do you take farmers for? Do you think they are bodhisattvas?"

Hiroshi Nohara picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and in a voice almost like a dream, only he could hear, slowly uttered the line he knew by heart:

"...That's a joke! Farmers are the most cunning. They won't give you rice if you ask, and they'll say they don't have wheat if you ask. But they actually have everything. Lift up the floorboards and look. They're either underground or in the storage room. You'll definitely find a lot of things: rice, salt, beans, wine...Go deep into the valley and look. There are hidden rice paddies!"

"They appear honest but are the worst liars; they'll lie about anything! When war breaks out, they kill the wounded and steal weapons. Listen to this: the so-called peasants are the stingiest, the most cunning, the cowardly, the wicked, the incompetent—they're murderers!"

"But who made them like this?"

"It's you, you warriors, all of you, die! Burning villages, ravaging fields, forcing labor, abusing women, killing those who resist—what are you expecting the peasants to do? What are they supposed to do?!"

This sentence is truly a classic.

It highlights class conflict.

It refutes stereotypes.

There was also a reversal after the victory.

Hiroshi Nohara couldn't help but utter these lines, even though his voice was very soft, as soft as a feather, quietly drifting into the frozen air.

However, these few light words were like a thunderbolt that ripped through the long night of eternity, striking hard into Eiji Kurosawa's long-dried sea of ​​inspiration!

"!!!"

Eiji Kurosawa's body trembled violently!
His already somewhat cloudy eyes suddenly burst forth with a terrifying light that could ignite the entire room!
Like a sleeping lion awakened in an instant, he rushed forward in one stride, his large hands, covered with age spots but still powerful, grabbed Nohara Hiroshi's arm tightly without regard for anything else!

"What...what did you just say?!"

His voice was hoarse from extreme shock and excitement, and his sharp eyes were fixed on Hiroshi Nohara, as if trying to see right through him!
"Say it again! Say what you just said! Say it again!"

"Director Kurosawa! You..."

Asumi was also completely frightened by his sudden, almost out-of-control behavior.

I thought they had a fight.

He rushed forward to try and separate the two: "Calm down! Calm down, Director Kurosawa!"

“It’s alright, Deputy Director Asumi.” However, Hiroshi Nohara simply raised his hand to signal him to calm down.

He looked at the master in front of him, who had fallen into creative frenzy because of a careless remark, and a helpless look, both amused and exasperated, appeared on his handsome face.

He knew that he seemed to have... accidentally caused a major incident.

"Director Kurosawa, please calm down." His voice was like a clear spring, instantly soothing the old man's agitation: "Just now, I just... suddenly had a little, immature idea."

"What are you thinking?! Speak up!" Kurosawa Eiji's eyes burned with two raging flames!

he knows!
He knew this young man; he must have found that new answer—the one he had been searching for half his life but could never reach!
Hiroshi Nohara looked into his expectant and eager eyes, then glanced at Asumi beside him, who was also filled with shock and curiosity, and finally let out a long sigh.

He knew that some things, once ignited, could never be extinguished.

So it's okay to say it.

"My idea is very simple."

He slowly began, “Why must we focus the story on a ‘fake samurai’? Why can’t it be… a group of real samurai?”

He paused, and under the gazes of the two men, who were already utterly stunned by his shocking remarks, he slowly unveiled a completely new concept that was enough to overturn the entire history of Japanese cinema.

"A story about seven samurai, each representing a different personality, whose personalities led to different outcomes... a story that seems to follow a cause-and-effect relationship."

"..."

The entire office instantly fell into an eerie, deathly silence.

Asahi stared blankly at the young man, his refined demeanor frozen in shock.

What's going on in this guy's monstrous head this time?!
Eiji Kurosawa, the giant who dominated the Japanese film industry for half a century, finally released his grip on the young man's arm.

Then, under Asumi's incredulous, almost ghost-like gaze...

He bowed deeply, deeply, to the young man who was even younger than his grandson.

A standard, respectful, and inquisitive bow at a ninety-degree angle!

"Nohara-kun!"

His voice was no longer hoarse or confused, but instead filled with a powerful and resonant quality, as if he had survived a catastrophe!
"Please...please, please tell me your thoughts!"

"please!"

In Japanese etiquette, this is an elderly person in their sixties bowing to a young person in their twenties.

This is shameless and disrespectful behavior; it would be so shameful and laughable if it were said out loud!

But this also demonstrates Eiji Kurosawa's determination.

Hiroshi Nohara pursed his lips slightly.

He nodded and said, "Okay."

If the board of directors of TV Tokyo doesn't trust him to make movies, then he should prove himself by helping director Eiji Kurosawa make "Seven Samurai"!

(End of this chapter)