Sublime

Makiko was a hostess, but that can mean all kinds of different things. Some good, some not so good. Osaka is rife with drinking spots, but an address is enough to tell you what you should expect, in terms of clientele and atmosphere and hostesses. She worked in Shobashi, the neighborhood the three of us worked in for years after we ran off that

No breathing room between the buildings, which means unagi restaurants rubbing shoulders with telephone clubs, and estate agents sharing walls with sex shops. Busy electric signage and pachinko parlors waving banners. Seal-engraving businesses whose owners never bothered coming in. Video arcades that looked anything but fun.

Hirata got his big break from Gen Tarumi, the owner of popular Tokyo clothing store Hollywood Ranch Market.

‘Well then, Mr Taro Yamada. Let’s get to business. What dish are you looking for?’ asked Koishi. ‘I’d like you to help me with a certain kind of mackerel sushi.’ ‘What kind, exactly?’ asked Koishi, scribbling away with her pen. ‘The refined type they serve at the Izu restaurant? Or something a bit more rough and ready, like you get at Hanaori?’

Toshiyuki Kurosu in gakuran school uniform (left) and first suit jacket (right). (Courtesy of Toshiyuki Kurosu)

Some people also suffer from the misconception that Isao Takahata-san and I are both some sort of environmentalists, and that we will make a film out of anything as long as it has an ecological theme or message. Nothing could be further from the truth. Such a film would be like a big fat dried-up log, propped upright. What we need is a living