“I’m Certainly Not Aiming for Consistency”: Kiyoshi Kurosawa Discusses Serpent’s Path, Chime, and Kokurojo

      Among devoted fans, *Serpent’s Path* is not a novel work from Kiyoshi Kurosawa. Although it ranks among his finest films, it remains largely obscure compared to *Cure* or *Pulse*, likely viewed only through DVD copies or modest upscales. This might be a natural consequence of a narrative that, even by Kurosawa's high standards, is so profoundly dark it approaches evil—should anyone attempt a remake, Kurosawa would likely be the only one capable of honoring it. (In my opinion, he accomplished that.)

      Janus Films' release of *Serpent’s Path* in a 4K restoration signifies a crucial moment in Kurosawa’s visibility in the West, especially in anticipation of the almost-certain Criterion release. The nationwide screening, paired with his lovely mini-feature *Chime* (which cannot exhibit further due to its NFT origin), represents exceptional value for theatrical experiences in 2026, not to mention a thorough exploration of Kurosawa's style and themes. I was delighted to converse with him via Zoom—me in New York in the evening, him in Tokyo in the morning—for a brief discussion about both films, his upcoming Cannes premiere *Kokurojo*, and (as required) Robert Zemeckis.

      Thanks to Aiko Masubuchi for offering interpretation.

      The Film Stage: Viewing *Serpent’s Path* and *Chime* together might function as a Rosetta stone for your filmography: parallels and echoes, the blurred lines between morality and immorality, underground connections, narratives that journey toward death. Even the striking visual motif of wind rustling through curtains. After creating films for over 40 years, do you consider your body of work to consistently reflect certain themes and obsessions, or—on the other hand—could my auteurist analysis merely be a result of you instinctively pursuing particular interests and passions?

      Kiyoshi Kurosawa: I have never intentionally made films with the aim of pursuing a single theme throughout my career. Each time, I seek a theme that is unique to that specific film, influenced by the people involved, the time period, or the era during which it was created. I focus on being specific to each film, and I do not aim for consistency in that regard.

      However, as you mentioned, I believe that human imagination is ultimately finite, and perhaps—albeit unconsciously—I am engaging in some repetition. Yet, I feel that such commonalities and repetitions are for the viewer to uncover. For me, as a filmmaker, it genuinely feels like I am doing something different each time—exploring new paths, so to speak. That is something I consistently remind myself as I create my films.

      Regarding what you said about *Serpent's Path* and *Chime* serving as a Rosetta stone for my work: perhaps you are quite correct in that assertion. This is because, in filmmaking, I sometimes encounter limitations—whether from working with a large company, using a source story, or collaborating with a notable actor—which influence the filmmaking process or the film's outcome.

      However, with *Serpent’s Path*, it was my last film made in the V-Cinema format, and I was granted a lot of creative freedom, being told I could do whatever I wanted. *Chime* was also a unique case. Being a shorter film, I had the liberty to explore creatively. Though both films were low-budget, this circumstance allowed me considerable freedom. In that sense, these films are quite rare for me. They might represent what I produce if granted complete creative control.

      Do you view the original *Serpent’s Path* differently now after the remake?

      Remaking a film I created is quite uncommon. In fact, it was my first opportunity to do so, making it a delightful and meaningful experience. The outcomes of both versions are notably distinct. Regarding the 1998 *Serpent’s Path*, the screenplay was written by my dear friend Hiroshi Takahashi, known for his work on films like *Ring*. Thus, I feel that the '98 version is, of course, my film, but it also feels like his. In remaking it, I sensed, “This might actually be my film.” That's the personal sentiment I can share with you.

      You have a new film, *Kokurojo*, set to premiere at Cannes next month and open in Japan this June. It marks your first narrative in the feudal era; some even label it your first period piece, as it’s not set in the 20th century like *Wife of a Spy*. How do you feel about exploring this period of Japanese history, particularly within the context of a locked-room mystery?

      The film is in Japanese, and the English title will likely be *The Samurai and the Prisoner*. While it's not confirmed, this aligns with the original story's English title. This is actually