Japan’s Yuya Danzuka Mines Family Drama and Urban Design for Breakout Directorial Debut ‘Brand New Landscape’

Experiencing Yuya Danzuka’s “Brand New Landscape” as a first-time viewer, I was immediately struck by its depth and maturity for a debut feature film. At just 26 years old, this Japanese director made history by being the youngest filmmaker ever to showcase in Cannes Film Festival’s Directors’ Fortnight section last month. The praise he received was well-deserved, as he masterfully intertwined the emotional disintegration of a Japanese family with deep reflections on Tokyo’s endless cycles of estrangement and rejuvenation.

However, what Western critics may have missed is that this film isn’t just an exceptional addition to the arthouse family drama genre; it’s also a daring and thought-provoking personal narrative. In essence, “Brand New Landscape” serves as Danzuka’s brave and evocative self-portrait.

The film, titled “Fresh Scenery,” opens with a tranquil summer vacation turning sour. Upon reaching their seaside villa, landscape designer Hajime (Kenichi Endo) unexpectedly informs his family that he must return to the city due to an urgent work commitment. His wife, Yumiko (Haruka Igawa), voices her frustration with a weary resignation, suggesting this is not the first time Hajime has neglected their family for his career. As Hajime departs and Yumiko slips into melancholy, the couple’s children withdraw, seeking solace in their own ways – the son with his soccer ball, and the daughter immersed in a book. Director Danzuka captures these moments with meticulous care, highlighting the intricate details of the family’s living space.

The story skips ahead by ten years, revealing a broken family. Yumiko, sadly, appears to have taken her own life, and Hajime, who had abandoned his children to pursue high-profile projects overseas, is now recognized for his achievements. Their son, Ren (played brilliantly by Kodai Kurosaki), is aimlessly going through life in Tokyo as a florist, while their daughter, Emi (Mai Kiryu), is planning to marry her longtime partner but seems uncertain about the marriage’s significance, believing it might only help bury the painful memories of their family history.

In my gaming world, when I, as Ren, make flower deliveries to a swanky art gallery, I stumble upon a shocking revelation: my pops is back in Tokyo town, showcasing his masterpieces in a glitzy retrospective! But here’s the catch – old man Hajime has hopped onto a contentious urban renovation project too. We’re talking about a daring redesign of one of Tokyo’s city parks, a project that promises state-of-the-art design but also means kicking out a huge number of homeless folks from their homes.

The unexpected encounter ignites a profound emotional confrontation among the characters. Whilst Hajime remains detached emotionally, engrossed in his architectural pursuits and a blossoming relationship with a subordinate, Ren cautiously attempts reconciliation, and Emi openly rejects any reunion. Danzuka skillfully portrays emotional emptiness – not only within the characters but in the sterile, intimidating cityscapes they traverse. As the camera dispassionately records the evolution of Tokyo’s urban panorama, it serves as a symbol for the characters’ internal structures: fragmented and isolated, yet also stunning and constantly striving for reorganization through an inexplicable desire to persevere. Throughout, Danzuka demonstrates his expertise as a formalist, employing stillness, distance, and spatial tension to convey the ennui of Japanese youth and the lingering sorrow of family voids. However, in a nation and culture that highly respects individual privacy and family values, Danzuka’s comprehensive work is far more daring than his formal reserve might imply.

Danzuka shares with The Hollywood Reporter that the characters in his movie are modeled after each family member, and the plot reflects our shared experiences, he says prior to the film’s screening at the Shanghai International Film Festival’s Asian New Talent competition. Notably, Yuya Danzuka’s father, renowned landscape designer Eiki Danzuka, is a well-known figure in Japan for his contentious but now highly praised transformation of Miyashita Park in Tokyo – a significant city landmark that the young director examines both aesthetically and ethically throughout his film.

As someone who was born and raised in Tokyo, I’ve often grappled with complex emotions towards its relentless metamorphosis, the way the city’s past seems to vanish into the horizon of the future. When my unease towards the urban landscape started intertwining with deeply personal feelings about my family, it struck me that perhaps I could channel these connections into a cinematic narrative.

As a gamer who hails from bustling Tokyo, I’ve seen firsthand how my personal life and the cityscape have intertwined. Growing up, I watched my family transform and the city around me evolve at an astonishing pace, leaving feelings of change that were both overwhelming and beyond my control. It was all a deeply connected journey for me.

Collaborating with cinematographer Koichi Furuya, Danzuka developed his unique observational approach that underscored how environments influence emotional journeys. “The camera’s positioning was crucial,” he notes. “By capturing the world through the lens, characters occupy a minimal portion of the image, while cities, architecture, and nature take up the majority. By paying equal attention to spaces and settings as we did to the actors, our goal was to create an impression of neutrality, thereby highlighting their emotional metamorphoses.

Danzuka asserts that the movie is entirely based on real events, yet he’s mindful of the fact that his viewpoint has certain knowledge boundaries.

As a gamer, I’d put it like this: “My dad and sis share a hurt that mirrors mine, yet it’s unique. Each of us has our own take on what transpired within our family, making it tough for me to clearly define where the reality of our story blends into the imaginary lines of fiction.

Previously, Danzuka hadn’t been close to his father for some time. However, before they began filming, he showed him the screenplay and got his approval to delve openly into his architectural work and their past. It was only during the film’s premiere at Cannes that his father saw the completed movie for the first time.

Danzuka mentions that he didn’t have a direct conversation with him at the premiere, but learned that he was deeply emotional. He also shares that his relationship with the person mirrors the development of the film characters. The movie explores themes such as evolution, emotions connected to environments, appreciation for past generations’ legacies, and the recurring pattern of things fading away and fresh beginnings taking their place.

He realizes that before creating this movie, he didn’t fully contemplate landscapes and spaces. This process, however, has significantly increased his admiration for his father’s work, and I believe his father may have developed a newfound appreciation for filmmaking as well.

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2025-06-16 20:25