The still photograph, despite being available, almost seems like a relic of a bygone era. We live in the time of immediacy, of the unreality of Instagram filters. There is also no limitation now, as all is digital. As a person from this ancient time of actual film in cameras, things have changed. There are years of my life that have no photographic proof, whether it is due to not wanting a photo taken or the limited amount of film. As I look back at photos of myself, sans filter, it houses not only myself, but a moment in time that would otherwise be forgotten. There is memory in each photo, both physical and emotional. In Memorizu, writer and director Miiku Sakanishi takes the time to examine this idea of memory, paired with a familial story that crosses cultural boundaries.
Yuta (Tasuku Emoto), a young man with a wife, Yuki (Moeka Hoshi), and a daughter, Hana, must travel from his home in Tokyo to care for his father-in-law, Makoto (Issei Ogata), who has recently broken his leg. The film opens smartly with a literal framing device that repeats throughout the film. The camera gazes out of a window at the natural world. The camera, with cinematography by Kamakari Yoichi, moves slowly, in tandem with the film itself, showing us Yuta’s journey. After all, he is moving from a large city to a rural town, Kyushu. When he arrives, we are introduced to Makoto, who owns a photo studio. There is no digitizing here, and it feels like a trip back in time as he hobbles from moment to moment, but accepts Yuta’s help when needed.
Emoto and Ogata are perfectly paired here. Although Yuta has a complete life back home, he silently takes in the lessons that Makoto is delivering, even if not in words. The message is loud and clear: slow down. Take it all in. Life is already too short. Ogata, who American audiences may recognize from Martin Scorsese’s Silence, is in a totally different, but just as effective, mode here. There is a much broader range that he is playing in Memorizu. Due to his physical and emotional performance, we are able to inhabit Yuta’s perspective, even if the style of the film is different from what we are used to.
The pace of the film is purposefully languorous, and some audiences may feel frustrated by the lack of movement and momentum. If this is the case, congratulations, you have fallen directly into Sakanishi’s gambit. We all feel this way constantly, always feeling like we should be pushing forward and never resting. Memorizu reminds us that life is constantly in transition and we need to savor all of these moments. Without technological aid, none of these moments lasts. And even when we look at the memories of moments, we may need reminders of context and the relationship shown within.
Memorizu does a tremendous amount of work to remind us of the importance of this impermanence, paired with the people that we love. Through much more advanced technology, that of video calling, Yuta connects with his wife and daughter. Importantly, there is almost no sense of them rushing him home, showing us that of all of the pressure that we place on ourselves to do more, most of it is internal. This forces us to see the connections that are present, as well as those that are more distant, such as those between Yuki and Makoto. But all of this pales in comparison to the visual notions set forward in a powerful montage of images near the end of the film. Sakanishi and Yoichi manage the near impossible; they give us all the gift of memory through physical images to connect to, while continuing the narrative of the film. This particular trick, all through the frame of a window and the lens of the camera, primes us emotionally for the film’s stunningly beautiful ending notes.
Memorizu, for all of its slow pacing, is a magical experience, and a calling for all of us. We must remember that our lives are not lived simply to succeed and make money. Our lives are to actually be lived for and with the people that matter most. If we move too quickly and do not take the time for a simple photograph, to freeze the moment, it is gone forever, and at a great cost. Even something as simple as a child’s class picture is a precious moment to be savored forever. Our lives are all connected, and that takes precedence over everything.
Memorizu held its World Premiere as a part of the International Narrative Competition section of the 2026 Tribeca Festival.
Director: Miiku Sakanishi
Screenwriter: Miiku Sakanishi
Rated: NR
Runtime: 98m
Memorizu, for all of its slow pacing, is a magical experience, and a calling for all of us.
Dave is a lifelong film fan who really got his start in the independent film heyday of the 90’s. Since then, he has tried to branch out into arthouse, international, and avant garde film. Despite that, he still enjoys a good romcom or action movie. His goal is to always expand his horizons, through writing and watching new movies.
