12/03/2025 - In the Danish director’s film, people decide to fight loneliness by finally reaching out to others – or even adopting an owl

(© Christina House)

All the lonely people – where do they all come from? In Kaspar Astrup Schröder’s Dear Tomorrow [+see also:
interview: Kaspar Astrup Schröder
film profile], screened in the Documentary Spotlight strand of SXSW, the answer is Japan. But loneliness is an issue that is becoming more and more common, he argues.

Cineuropa: Wim Wenders mentioned how long it takes to understand Japan. But you talk not only about this country; you also talk about something that everybody’s ashamed of.
Kaspar Astrup Schröder: I’ve been in Japan maybe 30 times since 2000. This is my fourth film set there. I think I have a way of behaving that they feel they’re familiar with. My Japanese friends call me “the white Japanese guy”. I have people with me who mitigate if I’m overstepping or acting a little naïve. They tell others: “Okay, he’s just a foreigner, let’s break it down for him.”

I look for stories that may seem extreme, but we can also relate to them. One of my previous films was called Rent a Family Inc. [+see also:
trailer
film profile], and it was about a company in Japan that rents out fake family members to cover up secrets and lies. So many people understood it. Sometimes, it helps to be looking in from the outside. […] This film took five years to make, so it’s more than just me coming in, conducting an interview and leaving. I spend a lot of time with them without the camera, and we become friends.

It's difficult to talk about loneliness, and it’s difficult to make a film about it, too. How did you want to show it?
It was all about being there and listening. I knew I didn’t want to have the whole crew with me, with booms hanging over these people’s heads. Mostly, I was alone. One of my protagonists, Shoko, didn’t want to show me her house at first. We would just hang out, not filming anything, and then she gradually invited me into her space. I think it served as a form of therapy for them.

We all know loneliness is an issue, but we might not realise how big of an issue. And not just in Japan. Was there something about loneliness that surprised you?
It surprised me how aware they were of their situation. They knew it; they just didn’t know how to fix it or how to evolve. Japan is like a magnifying glass for things that suit the “solo culture”. I live in Copenhagen, and we also have these self-checkout counters in the supermarkets. You go in and you can be completely invisible. I noticed these details while filming, and it triggered things in my own head when I came home. I don’t ever want to self-checkout any more. I want to say hello to the cashier, look him or her in the eyes, and just say: “Have a good day.”

To feel connected to society through human contact is so important, and in Japan, it’s just going the opposite way. We found all of these places and things you can do on your own. I’ve never heard of “solo karaoke” before! It’s much more important than we think to nod or just say a word to another person and get some energy back.

It's crazy that we are basically shooting ourselves in the foot in the name of technological progress.
I have two kids, and when they’re bored, they just sit on their phones and watch TikToks. Sometimes I tell them: “Don’t do anything. Just slow down and maybe talk to someone.” It definitely is a universal challenge.

One can only imagine how many people you could have followed in this film. How did you choose them?
Lonely people are invisible, so my first point of entry was the mental-health chat service “A Place for You”. I got to know Koki [Ozara], who started it, and we talked about reaching out to people without overstepping any boundaries. We prepared a survey, and whenever someone was done with the chat, they got a text: “If you’re interested in telling your story, there’s a documentary maker who would like to hear it.” I was interested in people my own age who had jobs, flats and a life that seemed very normal, but no one to share it with. Out of 200 people, 12 replied.

Only 12? It’s a vicious cycle: they are suffering, but they are also embarrassed and don’t always ask for help.
In Asia, and in the Buddhist culture, it’s all about looking forward. You should look for positive things in life instead of focusing on your challenges in the past. Always flip the page. In Japan, when you go to a doctor and say you don’t feel good, they give you pills. But therapy is not a thing. It’s a society based on being efficient together.

If you have a problem, you just keep it to yourself and put a lid on it. Then, at some point, it becomes too much. People find this chat service, and one of the reasons why it’s so successful is because it’s via texting. It’s easier to text than to talk. Still, women made up 73% of these 200 people. Masato was the only man who responded. I wanted to have men represented because they are the ones who commit the most suicides.

It feels like a personal film, but you also mention politicians and new initiatives designed to battle loneliness on a bigger scale. Why did you want to address it? Because it’s a good sign?
Putting it on the political agenda makes the whole of society aware that it’s okay to ask for help. Things are changing. More people talk about it, and more are seeking therapy. Politicians looked at Kiko and asked if he wanted to be part of this “ministry of loneliness”. I think broadening it out, saying that this country is looking at it on a political level, could also make an impact internationally. We have my micro story, but I wanted to show a bigger movement.