I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 238 "Neon Flavors on the Tip of the Tongue"! Hiroshi Nohara's ingenious ideas! The crowd was shocked!
The air conditioner in the Kanto-tai conference room was still humming. The excitement from discussing the reform plan that morning hadn't completely dissipated. The empty ramen bowls and beer cans on the table had just been taken away by the logistics staff when Yamada pushed open the door carrying a thick stack of documents, the edges of the pages still stained with some pork bone soup from that morning.

"Everyone, I just found this in the archives."

Yamada placed the documents on the conference table and pointed to the yellowed booklet on top. "This is the documentary production report from 1981. At that time, our Kanto TV also produced 'Kanto Folk Customs Travelogue,' but unfortunately it was canceled after only three episodes due to low ratings. Back then, TV Tokyo's 'Tokyo Wide Angle' was very popular, and viewers loved watching urban dramas. Nobody wanted to watch slow-paced folk customs documentaries."

Matsui reached for the report, his fingertips tracing the gold-embossed title on the cover, his tone tinged with regret: "I remember this film. It was directed by Old Tian. To film the Kamakura Dragon Boat Festival, he and his team spent half a month camping out at the shrine, but the final ratings were only 2.3%, and the board of directors canceled the project. Looking back now, if we had persevered, perhaps our Kanto TV would have had its own documentary brand by now."

Asumi sat in the main seat, holding a freshly brewed sencha tea cup, and gently blew on the steam: "It's not just Kanto TV, the entire documentary market in Japan isn't doing well right now. I saw TV Tokyo's annual report before, and last year the entire station only produced 12 documentaries, which is less than a fraction of the number of variety shows. Moreover, most of them were historical films commissioned by NHK, which weren't very original."

Hiroshi leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the table, his gaze sweeping over everyone present—Matsui was flipping through an old report, his brows slightly furrowed.

Fujishita Ken patted his beer belly, a hint of confusion on his face;
Xiaolin opened his notebook, but the pen tip hovered over the paper without falling.

Saito was still the same as always, clutching his pager, his eyes fixed on the sycamore tree outside the window, lost in thought.

He cleared his throat and slowly began to speak: "Actually, the reason why documentaries are not popular now is mainly because the times are not right. We are now in 1991. Although the penetration rate of home television has reached more than 85%, most families still use television as an 'entertainment tool.' During the prime time from 7 pm to 10 pm, viewers prefer to watch TV dramas and variety shows. Nobody wants to sit down and watch a slow-paced documentary."

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone looked over.

Matsui put down the report, his tone filled with curiosity: "Nohara-san, when do you think 'the time has come'? Do you mean we have to wait until home television penetration reaches 100%?"

"It's not just about the rate of adoption, but more importantly, the changes in audience demand."

Hiroshi sat up straight, his tone resolute. "I estimate that things won't change until after the 21st century, around 2005. By then, home televisions will be common in every household, and many families will even have more than two televisions. Viewers will no longer flock to watch prime-time programs; instead, they will choose according to their own interests—some people like late-night animation, while others like weekend documentaries. The market will become more segmented."

He paused, then continued, “Moreover, by then, as the economy develops to a certain stage, the audience’s aesthetic will also change. Right now, people are still pursuing ‘exciting’ and ‘exciting’ entertainment, such as highly interactive variety shows like ‘Super Transformation’ and movies with large-scale scenes like ‘Seven Samurai’; but in another ten years or so, the audience will start to pursue ‘depth’ and ‘warmth’, wanting to learn more about the people and things around them through television, and to learn about those overlooked cultures and stories—that’s when the documentary market will emerge.”

Asumi nodded and added, "Nohara-san is right. When I went to NHK for exchanges before, their documentary director said that there have been signs of this in recent years—viewers over 35 years old are gradually paying more attention to historical and folk themes. Last year, NHK's 'Tales of Old Streets in Japan,' although it was broadcast on a Sunday afternoon during non-prime time, achieved a viewership rating of 4.7%, which was much higher than expected."

“4.7%?” Fujishita Ken’s eyes lit up. “That’s higher than some of our prime-time shows! I remember last month our show, ‘Kanto Family Drama,’ only got a 3.9% rating, and we were ridiculed by TV Tokyo.”

Kimura adjusted his glasses, his tone analytical: "This shows that it's not that audiences don't like documentaries, but rather that we haven't found the right subject matter and format. Our previous documentary, 'Kanto Folk Customs Journey,' was too didactic, starting with historical background and featuring mostly static scenery, which made viewers sleepy. But NHK's 'Tales of Old Streets in Japan' is different. It follows ordinary people in old streets, like bakery owners and bookstore owners, using their stories to tell the history of the old streets, which is much more interesting."

Kobayashi immediately jotted down "using people's stories to tell history" in his notebook, then looked up at Hiroshi: "Nohara-san, should we follow this approach when making documentaries now? Instead of dry popularization of knowledge, should we film people and events with warmth?"

Hiroshi smiled and nodded: "That's right. And our Kanto TV station has a natural advantage—there are so many people and things worth filming in the Kanto region. For example, the old crafts that Matsui-san just mentioned, the woodblock printmakers in Kamakura who do this one thing their whole lives, how their crafts are passed down, how they face the impact of modern industry, there are so many stories to tell; and the Kanto scenery, such as the rice harvest in Chiba, the hot spring festival in Gunma, these scenes are very visually appealing, and when combined with the locals' narration, they will definitely attract viewers."

Matsui's eyes gradually brightened. He flipped through the old report in his hand, pointed to a page and said, "Back when we were filming 'Kanto Folk Customs Travelogue,' we also thought about filming woodblock printmakers, but the board of directors said, 'It's too niche, no one will watch it,' so we changed it to filming the history of shrines. Now that I think about it, if we had insisted on filming the craftsmen back then, the result might have been different."

"It's not too late."

Hiroshi picked up the thread, his tone encouraging, “We can start with three directions—the first is ‘Kanto Old Crafts,’ which will be dedicated to filming traditional crafts that are on the verge of disappearing. Each episode will focus on a craftsman, filming from his daily work to the process of making the craft, and finally talking about the culture behind the craft; the second is ‘Kanto Scenery,’ which can keep the previous name, but the content will be changed. We’ll film festivals and customs in various parts of Kanto, such as the Dano Festival in Kamakura and the Lunar New Year in the Asian Street in Yokohama, using the camera to record these lively scenes, and then interspersing local people’s memories; the third is ‘Kanto Landscape Stories,’ which will film the natural scenery of Kanto, but not just the scenery, but the people in the scenery, such as the farmers at the foot of Mount Fuji and the fishermen in Tokyo Bay, combining the scenery and the stories of the people.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the conference room became lively.

Kenjiro Fujishita was the first to raise his hand, his voice filled with excitement: "I think the direction of 'Old Crafts of Kanto' is great! We can collaborate with Marui Soy Sauce. Doesn't their boss like traditional culture? Let them sponsor the production costs, and we can give their soy sauce bottles a close-up in the film. That way, we can promote the craftsmanship and get advertising at the same time—a win-win situation!"

"I support 'The Scenery of Northeast China'!"

Kobayashi immediately chimed in, his pen flying across his notebook, “Last year, when I went to Yokohama for an interview, I discovered a dumpling shop there. The owner is a third-generation successor and still makes old-fashioned red bean buns. Young people these days don’t want to learn it anymore, and he’s worried about how to pass it on—if this story were made into a film, it would definitely be touching!”

Yamada nodded in agreement: "The Kanto Region Landscape Story is also good! I have a classmate who grows apples at the foot of Mount Fuji. His family has been growing apples for five generations, and the apple variety is still from the Meiji period. Now they are facing competition from imported apples in supermarkets, and life is not easy. If we film how they persevere and how they find ways to sell the old variety of apples, there will definitely be viewers who want to watch it."

Kimura adjusted his glasses and said in a calm tone, "I think we can advance in three directions at the same time. Let's shoot one episode of each as a pilot project and see how the audience reacts. As for the production team, we can select a few experienced veteran cinematographers from the production department and pair them with young directors. The veterans understand the local customs and culture of the Kanto region, while the young ones have fresh ideas. This way, the film we shoot will be both warm and innovative."

Saito finally spoke, his voice as deep as ever: "Don't worry about the technology. I can bring out that unused HD camera in the technical department. Although it's been used for five years, the image quality is still pretty good. It's fine for shooting landscapes and craft details. If you need special shots, like slow motion, I can modify the equipment myself. There's no need to apply for a new one."

Matsui watched everyone's enthusiastic discussion and a long-lost smile appeared on his face. He put down the old report in his hand and said with emotion, "I never thought that after so many years, our Kanto TV station would be able to discuss documentaries again. When we were filming 'Kanto Folk Customs Travelogue,' I thought we would never have the chance to make our own documentary again. Now it seems that I was wrong."

Asumi smiled, picked up her teacup, and raised it to everyone: "This is all thanks to Nohara-san. If it weren't for him suggesting the documentary direction, we'd still be struggling to compete with TV Tokyo for variety show resources. Come on, everyone, let's toast Nohara-san with tea instead of wine, to thank him for pointing out a new path for our Kanto TV!"

Everyone raised their teacups and gestured towards Hiroshi. The atmosphere in the meeting room was even more lively than in the morning, and even the hum of the air conditioner seemed less jarring.

Hiroshi quickly waved his hand, speaking modestly: "Seniors, you're too kind. I only suggested a direction. How to implement it will depend on everyone's joint efforts. Moreover, the three directions we are discussing now actually have a lot of room for exploration. For example, in 'Old Crafts of Kanto,' in addition to woodblock prints and washi paper, there are also kimono embroidery in Tokyo and lacquerware in Kanagawa, all of which are worth filming. 'Kanto Folk Customs' can also film the food customs of Kanto, such as the origin of eating soba noodles for the New Year and the history of eating shaved ice in summer. These are all closely related to the audience's lives and are more likely to resonate with them."

"Food customs?" Fujishita Ken's eyes lit up immediately. He patted his beer belly and said with anticipation, "That's great! I love food the most. If you're going to film food, I'll be the first to sign up to film it! The owner of Asakusa-ya even told me that their tonkotsu soup has been made for three generations and they have a secret recipe. If we can film it, it will definitely attract more customers!"

Everyone laughed when he said that, and Matsui laughed along with him, tapping his fingers lightly on the edge of the table. He suddenly looked at Hiroshi and said, "Nohara-san, you just mentioned food customs. I suddenly thought, could we make a documentary about food? After all, food is something that both young and old people like to watch. It might be more attractive to the audience than old crafts or folk paintings."

These words instantly silenced the meeting room, and everyone's eyes were focused on Hiroshi.

Asumi looked at him with curiosity in his eyes—there were no delicacies in the three directions they had just discussed, and he wanted to hear what Hiroshi thought.

Hiroshi smiled and nodded slightly as he met everyone's gaze: "Matsui-san is right. Actually, I had this idea from the beginning, but I was too embarrassed to bring it up first—after all, people's impression of documentaries is still that they are 'serious' and 'niche,' and I was afraid that people would think I wasn't 'professional' enough if I suddenly said I wanted to film food."

"Not professional enough?" Fujishita Ken immediately retorted, his tone tinged with dissatisfaction. "How can food not be professional? I talked to the owner of Asakusa-ya. Their tonkotsu soup is simmered for twelve hours, using Kyushu black pork bones, and they add more than twenty kinds of spices. There's a lot of knowledge involved! It would definitely be more interesting to film than those dry historical documentaries!"

Kobayashi nodded in agreement, writing "Food Documentary" in large letters in his notebook. He said excitedly, "I support it! There aren't any food documentaries on the market right now. If we make one, we'll be the first to try something new! Besides, food doesn't conflict with the traditional crafts and local customs we discussed earlier. For example, if we film the woodblock prints in Kamakura, we can also film the local seafood donburi; if we film the Asian Street in Yokohama, we can film the steamed buns from a century-old steamed bun shop. This way, they can complement each other and make the film's content richer."

Matsui looked at Hiroshi, his tone expectant: "Nohara-san, what are your specific thoughts? How do you plan to film this food documentary? What kinds of food will you be filming?"

Hiroshi sat up straight and said seriously, "I plan to name this documentary 'Neon Flavors'."

"A Bite of Neon?" Everyone repeated in unison, their eyes filled with surprise.

Matsui stroked his chin thoughtfully: "This name... it sounds very evocative, like just hearing the name makes you see all sorts of delicious food laid out in front of you."

Asumi nodded, her tone approving: "The title is good. It clearly states the theme is food, and it also has a touch of poetry, making it more appealing than a straightforward title like 'Kanto Food Journey.' As for the content, will it only feature food from the Kanto region, or will it cover all of Japan?"

"We'll start by filming in the Kanto region, and once we've gained some fame, we'll expand to film all of Japan."

Hiroshi explained, “The Kanto region has a wide variety of delicious foods, such as sushi in Tokyo, cuisine in Yokohama, seafood rice bowls in Kamakura, onsen eggs in Gunma, and rice in Chiba. Each kind of food has a story behind it. For example, the sushi chefs in Tokyo, how they select fish and how they make sushi, insist on using traditional methods for their entire lives. There is craftsmanship in that. The century-old baozi shops in Yokohama's Asian Street, how they improved Chinese baozi to suit the taste of Japanese people, there is cultural integration in that. The onsen eggs in Gunma, why can only be cooked in local hot springs to achieve that texture, there is regional characteristics in that.”

He paused, then continued, "Moreover, filming food is not just about filming the food itself, but also about filming the people behind the food. For example, when filming rice in Chiba, you need to film how farmers grow rice, from spring planting to autumn harvest, and how many storms they endure; when filming onsen tamago (hot spring eggs) in Gunma, you need to film how the landlady of the hot spring inn gets up at dawn every day to boil eggs, a practice she has maintained for decades; when filming sushi chefs in Tokyo, you need to film how they deal with fishmongers and how they select the freshest fish—the stories of these people are the soul of food documentaries."

“Well said!” Matsui couldn’t help but clap his hands, his tone full of agreement. “I once went to Chiba for an interview and met an old farmer who had grown rice all his life. He said, ‘Rice is like a child. You have to take good care of it to make it grow well.’ Before each harvest, he would say to the rice, ‘Thank you for your hard work.’ If this kind of story were made into a film, it would definitely touch the audience.”

Asumi looked at Hiroshi with admiration in her eyes: "Nohara-san, your understanding of documentaries is deeper than I imagined. I originally thought you were only good at variety shows and movies, but I didn't expect you to have such unique insights into documentaries as well."

Hiroshi smiled and waved his hand, speaking modestly: "Actually, I also referred to some previous ideas. I think that a good documentary should not educate the audience, but move them. Previous documentaries focused too much on 'knowledge dissemination,' for example, when talking about the history of a place, they would start by saying 'what this place was like in the Meiji period and what it was like in the Taisho period,' which would easily make the audience sleepy; but if history is told through the story of an ordinary person, such as an old man recalling his childhood life in this place, the audience is more likely to accept it and resonate with it."

He picked up a pen from the table and drew a simple outline on the paper: "For the first episode of 'A Bite of Japan,' we can film 'Kanto Breakfast.' For example, Tokyo's Tsukiji Market starts bustling at four in the morning, with fishmongers busy unloading their catch, sushi chefs busy preparing ingredients, and office workers busy buying breakfast; in Yokohama's Asia Street, steamed bun shops open at six in the morning, with the proprietress busy steaming buns, and regular customers sitting in the shop waiting for the first batch of buns to come out of the steamer; on the coast of Kamakura, fishermen go out to sea to fish in the morning and sell their seafood directly at the dock when they return, and tourists can have their seafood cooked at the small shops next door—through these different breakfast scenes, we can showcase the pace of life and food culture of the people of Kanto, which is both visually appealing and insightful."

"This framework is great!" Kobayashi immediately jotted it down in his notebook, his voice filled with excitement. "I'll go to Tsukiji Market tomorrow to scout it out, talk to the fishmongers and sushi chefs, and see if I can find suitable characters and stories."

Kenya Fujishita raised his hand: "I know Yokohama's Asian Street very well! Last time I went there with the owner of Asakusa-ya to discuss a collaboration, I met the owner of a century-old baozi shop. He also told me about his family's history, saying that his grandfather's generation came to Japan from Southeast Asia and Australia. At first, they sold baozi from a cart, and later they opened a shop - this story is definitely worth making into a movie!"

Yamada added, “I’ve been to the beach in Kamakura. There’s an old fisherman who goes out to sea every morning and comes back in the afternoon. He says, ‘I’m too old to catch many fish anymore. I just need enough for myself and to sell some to tourists.’ He has such a great attitude. If you film that, it will definitely be touching.”

Seeing everyone's enthusiasm, Hiroshi breathed a sigh of relief—at first he was worried that people would think that food documentaries were "not doing their job properly," but now it seems that people not only accepted it, but were also very interested in it.

Asumi picked up his teacup, took a sip, and said in a calm tone, "Since everyone agrees to film 'A Bite of Japan,' let's finalize this project. As for the production team, Kobayashi will be in charge of the preliminary research and interviews, Fujishita Ken will assist in contacting businesses and locations, Yamada will be in charge of coordinating the camera crew, Saito will be in charge of technical support, Matsui-san is experienced enough to serve as the chief consultant, and Nohara-san and I will be in charge of overall control."

He paused, then continued, "Regarding the budget, I will apply to TV Tokyo for a pilot grant of about five million yen to film the first episode of 'Kanto Breakfast.' If the response is good, I will apply for more funding to film subsequent episodes such as 'Kanto Lunch,' 'Kanto Dinner,' and 'Kanto Snacks.' In addition, we can cooperate with local tourism bureaus, such as the Kamakura Tourism Bureau and the Yokohama Tourism Bureau. They will definitely be willing to sponsor it, since this is also a way to promote their local characteristics."

Matsui nodded, his tone filled with emotion: "I never thought that our Kanto TV would have the opportunity to do such a meaningful project. When I was filming 'Kanto Folk Customs Travelogue' back then, I thought it would be great if we could make a documentary that the audience would remember. Now it seems that this wish might come true."

Looking into the light in Matsui's eyes, Hiroshi suddenly felt that making documentaries was not just for the reform of Kanto TV, but also to preserve those people and things that were about to be forgotten—like "A Bite of Japan," which not only filmed food, but also the lives of Kanto people, the culture of Kanto, and the warmth and perseverance hidden in the food.

He suddenly remembered the documentary "A Bite of China" that he had watched in his previous life. The reason that documentary was so popular was that it not only filmed the food, but also the people behind the food, and the Chinese people's attitude towards life and cultural heritage.

The film he's making now, "A Bite of Japan," follows the same principle—using food as a link to connect the land, people, and culture of Northeast China, allowing viewers to experience the warmth of the region while enjoying delicious food.

“By the way, Nohara-san.” Matsui suddenly remembered something, his tone hesitant, “You just said that filming food requires ‘filming people,’ but we’ve never filmed this type of documentary before. Will the cameramen be used to it? For example, how do we capture people’s expressions, how do we follow the production process? These are all different from filming TV dramas and variety shows.”

Hiroshi had already thought of this. He took out a notebook from his briefcase and opened a few sheets of paper inside—it was the shooting plan he had stayed up all night to write, with simple storyboard sketches drawn on it.

"I wrote a preliminary shooting plan last night, you can take a look."

He handed the proposal to Matsui, explaining, "It outlines several key points, such as 'following without interference' during filming, meaning the cameraman should follow the characters' movements without interrupting their work rhythm; and 'detailed close-ups,' like the sushi chef's finger movements when holding sushi, or the strength of the steamed bun shop owner's wrist when kneading dough—these details make the audience feel more immersed; also, 'capturing natural reactions,' such as the expressions of diners eating delicious food, or the smiles of fishermen catching fish—these natural moments are more moving than deliberately staged shots." Matsui took the proposal, put on his reading glasses, and examined it carefully, his eyes growing brighter with each shot: "This proposal is so detailed! It even has storyboards! For example, when filming the onsen egg, it should start with the steam from the hot spring, then gradually focus on the egg, and finally film the yolk flowing out when bitten into—that shot looks so appetizing!"

Kobayashi leaned over for a look and immediately jotted it down in his notebook: "I'll go to Tsukiji Market tomorrow and communicate with the cameraman using this plan. I'll focus on filming the sushi chef's hand movements and the diners' reactions. That should definitely produce some good shots."

Saito also leaned over to take a look, his brows relaxing slightly: "There's no problem with the technology. I can switch the camera to 'movie mode,' which will make the image quality more detailed and the colors of the food more realistic. For example, the rice in sushi should be filmed with a glossy sheen, and the yolk of the onsen egg should be filmed with that orange-yellow texture."

Asumi breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that everyone had clearly defined their roles. He stood up and clapped his hands: "Now that the plan and team are finalized, let's get started as soon as possible. Kobayashi and Fujishita Ken will go scout locations tomorrow, Yamada will contact the camera crew, Saito will prepare the equipment, Matsui-san will be in charge of overall coordination, and I will go to TV Tokyo the day after tomorrow to report. Let's try to start filming next week."

"Great!" the crowd responded in unison, their voices full of enthusiasm.

Just then, Hiroshi's phone rang. He smiled apologetically and walked to the window to answer the call.

"Hiroshi-kun, it's me." Sakata's voice came from the other end of the phone, sounding a little tired. "How's the reform plan for Kanto TV going? Have you encountered any obstacles?"

Hiroshi glanced at everyone in the conference room and said in a relaxed tone, "Director Sakata, everything is going smoothly. We have finalized the direction of the documentary and plan to start with a segment called 'A Bite of Japan,' which will focus on the cuisine of the Kanto region and the stories of the people behind it. Filming will begin next week."

“A Taste of Japan?” Sakata’s voice held a hint of surprise, then he laughed. “That’s a good name! I was worried that Matsui Yuichi and the others would object, but I didn’t expect you to reach an agreement so quickly. It seems I didn’t misjudge you; sending you to Kanto TV was definitely the right decision.”

Hiroshi humbly replied, "It's mainly because Matsui-san and the others have a deep affection for Kanto TV and are willing to work hard for reform. I only suggested a direction. By the way, Director, we need a pilot fund of five million yen to film the first episode of 'Kanto Breakfast.' Do you think it's possible to approve it?"

“Five million? No problem.” Sakata readily agreed. “I’ll have the finance department transfer the funds tomorrow. Also, I spoke with Director Hattori Tadashi. He’s the head of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government’s publicity department and also came from TV Tokyo. He’s very supportive of our staff. If you need support from local governments for your documentary, you can ask him for help. For example, contact the Kamakura City Government or the Yokohama City Government. They’ll definitely be willing to cooperate.”

Hiroshi felt a warmth in his heart: "Thank you, Director! With Minister Hattori's help, our filming will go much more smoothly."

"You're welcome." Sakata's tone was tinged with relief. "Work hard at Kanto TV. Don't rush to produce results. Take your time and build a solid foundation. By the way, Takada Toshihide told me that the city TV's 'Exploring the Tokyo Area' program will start filming next week, and they've invited Kamiki Shunsuke to be the host. You need to be careful and not let them beat you to the punch."

Guangzhi's eyes darkened for a moment, then he smiled and said, "Don't worry, Director. Our 'Neon Flavors' is different from their program. They focus on 'visiting tourist attractions,' while we focus on 'human stories.' Our target audiences are different, so there won't be any conflict. Moreover, I believe that heartwarming stories are more attractive to viewers than celebrity hosts."

"Okay, I'm relieved to hear that." Sakata's tone became more relaxed. "If you encounter any problems you can't solve in Kanto, call me anytime. Don't try to handle it all by yourself."

After hanging up the phone, Hiroshi returned to the conference table and said with a smile, "Director Sakata has agreed to our plan. The five million yen funding will be transferred tomorrow, and Minister Hattori will also help coordinate with the local government, which will make our filming process smoother."

"That's fantastic!" Ken Fujishita exclaimed excitedly, slamming his hand on the table. "With funding and the support of the local government, we're sure to make the best documentary ever!"

Matsui also smiled and nodded: "I'll call the Kamakura City government tomorrow. They've been wanting to promote the local seafood, so they'll definitely be willing to cooperate with our filming."

Looking at everyone's excited expressions, Asumi suddenly recalled the time twenty years ago when they were filming "Kanto Folklore"—back then, everyone was just like that, working together with great enthusiasm for a shared program goal. He picked up the sencha on the table and raised it to Hiroshi: "Hiroshi-kun, I really have to thank you this time. Without you, our Kanto TV station might still be stuck in the same place, not knowing which direction to go."

Hiroshi quickly waved his hand: "Managing Director Asumi is too kind. I just did what I was supposed to do. The ones who really worked hard were Matsui-san and the others, who were willing to put aside their concerns and work hard for the future of Kanto TV."

Matsui looked at Hiroshi with admiration in his eyes: "Nohara-san, to be honest, I was a little resistant to you at first, thinking you were too young and didn't understand the difficulties of Kanto TV. But now I understand that you are not only talented, but you also understand what the audience wants and what path Kanto TV should take. In the future, you can give us the reins in the filming of documentaries, and we will all listen to you."

“Yes!” Yamada chimed in, “When you directed ‘Yamishibai’ and ‘Seven Samurai,’ you were very good at capturing the audience’s psychology. This time, with ‘A Bite of Japan,’ you’ll definitely capture the audience’s stomach and heart as well!”

Looking at the trusting eyes of everyone, Hiroshi felt a surge of warmth in his heart. He had traveled to this world, from an ordinary transmigrator to a third-rate director at TV Tokyo, and now to be in charge of reforming TV Kanto. Along the way, he had encountered a lot of doubts and obstacles, but he had also met many people like Matsui and Asumi who were willing to believe in him and support him.

He took a deep breath and said firmly, "Dear seniors, thank you for your trust. I assure you that 'A Bite of Japan' will definitely become the flagship program of Kanto TV, letting all of Japan know that Kanto TV can not only produce excellent local news, but also produce heartwarming and insightful documentaries, allowing more people to understand the food, culture, and people of Kanto!"

"Good!" the crowd responded in unison again, their voices full of confidence.

……

The air conditioner in the Kanto TV conference room was still humming, the heat from discussing "A Bite of Japan" hadn't dissipated, and the shooting plans and storyboard sketches on the table still smelled of ink.

Kobayashi had already gone to Tsukiji Market to scout locations with his notebook, Fujishita Ken patted his chest and said he would contact the baozi shops in Yokohama's Asia Street overnight, while Yamada went to the technical department with Saito, carrying the instruction manual for his old camera.

The group hurried along, forgetting even to grab their coats that had fallen on the back of their chairs, clearly energized by the new project.

As soon as the meeting room door closed for the last time, the room fell silent, with only the soft tapping of Asumi's fingertips on her thermos and Suzuki Kiyoto's unconscious stroking of his briefcase clasp.

The two exchanged a glance, both seeing unspoken concerns in each other's eyes. Finally, Asumi spoke first, her tone tinged with uncertainty: "Hiroshi-kun, I didn't dare ask in front of everyone earlier, but are we really going to focus on the documentary?"

Hiroshi didn't rush to answer. Instead, he took out a bottle of oolong tea from his briefcase, poured a cup for each of them, and then slowly said, "Is Managing Director Asahi worried about the ratings? Or are you afraid that the station will have something to say?"

"Everyone is afraid."

Asumi took the cup, her fingers gripping the cold glass, her brow still furrowed. "You know, documentaries in Japan have always been NHK's domain. They make history and folklore films, and with government subsidies, they don't worry about low ratings. But it's different for our Kanto TV. We still rely on advertising. If 'A Bite of Japan' comes out and the ratings don't even reach 3%, the advertisers will definitely complain, and Vice President Takada might call me in for tea again."

Kiyoto Suzuki nodded in agreement. He had been encouraging everyone in front of them, but in his heart he was also worried: "Hiroshi-kun, I'm not trying to discourage you. Ten years ago, our Kanto TV also filmed 'Kanto Folk Customs Travelogue.' Back then, Matsui-san and his team spent three months there, and what happened? The ratings didn't even reach 2.3%. In the end, the board of directors canceled the project, and the production department's budget was cut in half. Now we're even weaker than we were back then. If we stumble again, I'm afraid we won't even have a chance to recover."

He paused, lowering his voice even further: "And those old hands at the station, they've always disliked you because you're young. If the documentary flops, who knows what they'll say—last time 'Seven Samurai' was a huge hit, some people said you 'stumbled upon good luck.' If you fail with this documentary, those words will only be more hurtful. You're only 23 years old. It's not worth it if this affects your mindset."

Hiroshi listened to their conversation without being surprised.

He leaned back in his chair, looking at the faded cherry blossom picture on the wall—a gift from all the employees in 1943, when Kanto TV was still profitable, and the smiles on the employees' faces could be seen through the frame.

He paused for a few seconds before speaking: "Executive Director Asumi, Mr. Suzuki, do you think the problem with TV Kanto right now is a lack of good programs, or a lack of distinctive features that can stand the test of time?"

This question stumped the two of them.

Asumi paused for a moment, then subconsciously said, "Of course it lacks unique features! In the past, Kanto TV was able to capture the Kanto market with 'Kanto Folklore' because it filmed things that locals were familiar with. Now, it broadcasts TV Tokyo's variety shows every day, and there are hardly any shots of Kanto. Naturally, the audience is not buying it."

“That’s right.” Hiroshi tapped his fingers lightly on the table. “When we make documentaries, we’re trying to bring back this unique characteristic. Think about it, the city TV station is currently making ‘Exploring the Tokyo Area,’ with Shunsuke Kamiki as the host. They’re taking an entertainment-oriented approach, relying on star power. And the variety shows on TV Tokyo are even more obvious, like ‘Super Transformation’ and ‘Runaway,’ all of which attract viewers with excitement. If we follow their path, can we compete?”

He picked up the filming plan on the table and pointed to the page on "Kanto Traditional Crafts": "Documentaries are different. We'll film the woodblock prints of Kamakura, the washi paper of Gunma, things unique to the Kanto region that TV Tokyo and other city channels can't film. Even if the ratings are low at first, as long as we can retain viewers over 35 years old—who have an emotional connection to these old things—we can gradually build a good reputation. Once the reputation is established, advertisers will naturally come. After all, who wouldn't want to associate their product with 'Kanto specialties'?"

Asumi frowned and pondered for a while, seemingly somewhat persuaded, but still not completely reassured: "But what if... I mean what if, the word-of-mouth doesn't pick up and the ratings flop? We can't put all our eggs in one basket with a documentary, can we?"

"We didn't bet everything."

Hiroshi pulled another document from his briefcase, listing several project names. "I'm also planning to have Hashimoto-kun's animation production class make a short animation called 'Kanto Little Chef,' which tells the story of a child learning to cook Kanto cuisine from his grandfather, and it will be linked to a documentary. Yamamoto-kun's drama production class is also writing a script for 'Old Street Diner,' set in Yokohama Chinatown, which can cross-promote with 'A Bite of Japan.'"

He paused, his tone certain: "And we also have the support of Minister Hattori. He is the Minister of Public Relations of Tokyo and a good friend of Governor Koike. As long as 'A Bite of Japan' can capture the cultural characteristics of the Kanto region, we might be able to get publicity subsidies from the Tokyo Metropolitan Government. Even if the advertising revenue is a little less, we will have subsidies to support us, so we don't have to worry about exceeding the budget."

As Suzuki Kiyoto looked at the documents in Hiroshi's hand, which clearly listed the person in charge and the timeline for each project, his concerns gradually dissipated.

He recalled working with Hiroshi on "Tales of the Unusual" last year; the young man was the same way, seemingly relaxed, but actually having already considered all the risks. He couldn't help but laugh: "You always think things through so thoroughly. You didn't mention these things in front of everyone just now because you were afraid of putting too much pressure on them, right?"

Hiroshi smiled and took a sip of his oolong tea: "The main thing is to get everyone working together towards the same goal. 'A Bite of Japan' has just started, and if we say 'there are alternative plans' from the beginning, it will only make everyone feel more relaxed. Once filming goes smoothly, we can bring out the collaborative projects, and everyone will be even more motivated."

Asuka finally felt completely relieved. He leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh: "Speaking of which, Matsui-san's eyes lit up when he looked at the shooting plan just now—he has wanted to make a documentary that can preserve the culture of Kanto all his life, and this time he might really be able to fulfill his wish."

"Matsui-san really cares about Kanto TV." Suzuki Seito also sighed, "Ten years ago, when filming 'Kanto Folk Customs Travelogue,' he squatted at the entrance of a shrine for three days to get a shot of the Inari Festival. In the end, he got a fever from the cold, but he still insisted on editing the footage. If 'A Bite of Japan' becomes a hit, he'll probably be so happy that he won't be able to sleep."

Hiroshi recalled the way Matsui-san had touched the old report earlier, and his eyes warmed slightly: "Actually, making a documentary is not only for the reform of Kanto TV, but also for these veteran employees. They have followed Kanto TV for so many years, watching the station go from glory to decline, and they feel more pained than anyone else. If they can make a good film with their own hands, it will fulfill their dream."

He paused and looked out the window—a few more sycamore leaves had fallen from the trees downstairs, blown by the wind and clinging to the old walls of Guandongtai, much like those old crafts that were about to be forgotten.

He suddenly remembered a quote he had read in his previous life: "Documentaries are living fossils of history." What he wanted to do now was to leave the "living fossils" of Northeast China on the screen so that more people would remember the people and events of this land.

“Oh, right, Managing Director Asumi.” Hiroshi suddenly remembered something. “When we’re filming next week, could you please ask Deputy Director Takada to let the station’s camera director come and help out? Although the cameramen at Kanto TV are very experienced, they still need more guidance when filming this kind of ‘following without interference’ documentary—for example, how to capture natural reactions, how to handle close-up details, these are different from following a TV series.”

Asumi immediately nodded: "No problem! I'll call Deputy Director Takada tomorrow. He's all on our side now, so he'll definitely be willing to help. He might even come over in person—last time, during the recording of the Kanto region of 'Super Transformation,' he made a special trip over and stayed for a whole day, saying, 'We need to support Hiroshi-kun's project more.'"

Kiyoto Suzuki added, "If you need to deal with local governments, just let me know. I know the head of the publicity department in Gunma Prefecture. I had drinks with him when we were promoting Marui soy sauce last time. He's a very straightforward person, and he'll definitely be willing to cooperate if it's about promoting local specialties."

Looking at the two men, Hiroshi suddenly felt that although the road to reform for the Kanto TV station was still long, with these people by his side to support him, he could overcome any obstacle.

He picked up his oolong tea and raised it to the two of them: "Then let's work together to make 'A Bite of Japan' a signature program for Kanto TV—not only to make the audience in Kanto like it, but also to let everyone in Japan know that Kanto has delicious food, fun things to do, and a group of people who work hard."

Asumi and Suzuki Seito also raised their glasses and clinked them together with him.

The delicate aroma of oolong tea filled the conference room, mingling with the autumn breeze outside the window, carrying a touch of long-lost hope.

(End of this chapter)