Logline:
A disjointed family adrift in a seaside town is brought together unexpectedly through the loss of their loved one. Shackled and isolated, each ventures outside of themselves seeking resolution to chart a new course.

Synopsis:
The story follows the Yoshida family—Zenji Yoshida, an old fisherman living in Yoichi, Hokkaido, and Tōko, Miharu, and Rin Yoshida, Zenji’s daughter-in-law and granddaughters. The death of Zenji’s estranged son, Mitsuo, unexpectedly brings the two parties together for an awkward confrontation with each other, themselves, and the past, as they navigate their respective unfamiliar situations. With the help of her precocious younger sister Rin, Miharu, a mildly autistic 20-year old with a hypersensitivity to sound, tries to find her long-overdue independence, which has been hindered by her overprotective mother. Tōko grieves the passing of her husband and struggles with raising two daughters, especially protecting Miharu. Zenji thought he had put his strained relationship with his son in the past, but the arrival of Tōko, and meeting Miharu and Rin for the first time reopens old wounds as he grapples with his regrets of not being more supportive of his son who left years ago to become a poet, and properly saying goodbye. With the help of the generous, if not slightly nosey people of this small town, Zenji searches for the words to write to his late son, and Miharu finds love and the courage to step into the unknown. The story ends in an intricate weaving of Zenji, Tōko, and Miharu’s thoughts out loud, as they each encounter peace and confidence.

Director’s Statement by Yu Shibuya

Words have power. 

Or they used to. But social media has enabled practically anyone to say anything, anonymously and without accountability. Every second of every minute, our screens are flooded with all kinds of words from all kinds of people. If you don’t like someone’s words, then guess what? Just tap mute. If you don’t want to be held responsible for your own words, you can block whoever’s bothering you. It would be naive to say that such means of communication has no part in shaping our value of words and how we use them. 
There is a need right now for a film that values words. Of course, films are meant to be visual, they are supposed to paint rather than speak. Our film, “Miharu’s Umbrella” will portray the power and beauty of words. Words are invisible, but how they affect people are visible.
The characters in “Miharu’s Umbrella” care about words. They are deeply affected by words. The characters discover their inner thoughts by searching for words. They grow when they speak words that are difficult to say. And when necessary words are spoken, people connect. Because words have power. This film is meant to remind of us that.

 

Yu Shibuya

Yu Shibuya is a director, screenwriter, and playwright based in Tokyo, Japan. He holds an MFA in creative writing poetry from Purdue University.
“Jitensha”, an award-winning short film he wrote and coproduced, was an official selection at over 20 major film festivals globally, including the 66th Venice Film Festival.
Shibuya was nominated for the International Emmy Awards (Documentary Category) for story editing “WHO I AM Season 2 – Beatrice Vio”.
In 2018, he wrote and produced an international feature film entitled “Cicada” which won grand prizes at the Los Angeles Asian Pacific Film Festival, Guam International Film Festival, and the Pan Pacific Film Festival.
In 2020, he was selected as an NHK Sundance fellow for his original screenplay “An Argument for Beauty”, which is currently being developed under a different title.
Shibuya runs a theater company called Bokuyoken where he produces his original plays.
He has published three books: two collections of monologues and a collection of his full-length plays. They are being translated for international release.

“Miharu’s Umbrella” Treatment

Character Set-Up:

We meet the Sasaki family—sisters Miharu, 20, and Rin, 15, and their mother Tōko—on a train ride to Yoichi, a small town in Hokkaido. Tōko is a recently widowed single mother in her forties, as it is implied that the ashes in the urn they are transporting belong to her late husband, Mitsuo. Despite the 5-year age difference between the two sisters, it is clear from the get-go that the sibling dynamics are unconventional: Rin, the younger of the two, is a very precocious teenager who often reads books that are typically beyond her age. Tōko is overprotective of the older Miharu, who we eventually find out has mild autism that is most apparent in her hyperacusis (over-sensitivity to sound). Rin has had to grow up faster than usual as the result of being somewhat forced into the role of a caretaker to assist Tōko’s helicopter-parenting of Miharu. Tōko is a very assertive woman who is unbothered by how her behavior could be perceived by others, even in her husband’s small, conservative hometown, where gossip is ripe.
With the arrival of the Sasaki family in Yoichi, we are introduced to Zenji Sasaki, a resident in his sixties, and Mitsuo’s estranged father. Zenji is a fisherman who lives a simple, yet comfortable life going between his home, work in the ocean, and the local bar where he is a regular, to drink and socialize with friends and fellow Yoichi residents. However, unbeknownst to even his closest friends, he struggles internally with the fall-out with his son, harboring resentment and regret about the incidents surrounding their relationship. He had been working towards reconciliation in his own way when he finds out about Mitsuo’s death, and is taken by surprise when Tōko shows up at his doorstep, uninvited, with his two granddaughters he meets for the first time.

Story:

The story begins with the Sasaki family en route to Yoichi. Rin, her nose buried in a book by Heidegger, is tasked with holding an urn containing her late father’s ashes. Her mother, Tōko, warns her to be careful not to drop it. Miharu, who is holding a picture book, offers to carry the urn instead, but Tōko objects, already giving us a glimpse into how she babies Miharu.
Meanwhile, in the town of Yoichi, Zenji Sasaki is obliged to drink by Jiro, who brought him a bottle of sake. As they drink in Zenji’s home, Jiro recites some of his latest haiku verses (which are of a lewd and vulgar nature). After a few laughs, the conversation turns more solemn, when Jiro brings up the death of his friend’s son and tries to offer comfort. Zenji shrugs off the topic and asks Jiro to share more of his haikus. Jiro whips up another ridiculous verse that brings out a laugh from Zenji.
The story continues back and forth between the three Sasaki’s who continue on their way, and the two old men still in Zenji’s living room, drinking and talking. Jiro, literally with open arms, invites Zenji to unpack any pent-up thoughts about his son onto him, but Zenji would rather let the alcohol push his thoughts into oblivion. He even takes a stab at a haiku to describe that feeling: All of the what-ifs, let alcohol do its job, and forget those words.
The doorbell rings, and Jiro assumes it is his daughter Sakura, coming to drag him home. He asks Zenji to turn her away as he looks for somewhere to hide. But Zenji answers the door to find Tōko and her daughters. Unable to process what is going on, the scene transitions to the Sasaki family already in the house, getting settled. Entering the home is a process for Miharu, who is hesitant in new environments and requires noise canceling earmuffs to ease into unfamiliar situations. She works up the courage to use the bathroom, where she runs into Jiro hiding there, and screams.
Tōko is a strong-willed, assertive woman (and absolutely beautiful if you ask Jiro) who feels no shame or hesitation in showing up without warning to her estranged father-in-law’s home, and even indicating that they will be staying for a while, which Zenji did not really agree to. However, due to Miharu’s condition, staying in an unfamiliar place requires certain accommodations: Miharu needs to convert all the sounds she hears into original onomatopoeias in order to acclimate, while Tōko and Rin go around the house covering the ends of table and chair legs with tennis balls which help to absorb the sound they make when moved. Zenji, unaware of Miharu’s disability, is confused by all this.
While Tōko and her daughters take turns bathing, Zenji listens to a message on his answering machine. It is from his calligraphy teacher, Shouno, asking him why he suddenly stopped showing up to classes. Zenji does not think twice before deleting the message. He walks over to a shelf housing items relating to his son, Mitsuo. As he picks out a literary magazine, a conversation with his son from his memory plays out, and we see him reach for what seems to be a letter, which Zenji crumples up and throws away. Rin walks in on him and the two talk briefly, during which Zenji is informed that Miharu has a mild disability. After a few more awkward interactions between the Sasaki family and Zenji, they go to bed, with Tōko reading Miharu the home-made picture book to sleep. That night, Miharu dreams of a fictitious umbrella vendor who presents her with a selection of umbrellas, each designed to protect her in some way.
A few days later, it is the morning of the memorial service held on the 49th day after a death in Buddhist culture. Zenji clearly does not approve of Tōko’s attire, a flashy dress and bright red lips, in lieu of something subdued and modest. However, Tōko confidently attends the service in this dress, unbothered by Zenji’s disapproval and the whispering of the other attendees. The service, otherwise uneventful, closes peacefully in front of the Sasaki family tomb.
Later the same day, Zenji, still in his mourning attire, is talking over drinks with Jiro and Jiro’s son-in-law and Mitsuo’s friend from youth, Kimura, at Ponpoko, a local bar with particular restrictions for patrons who get sick on their premises. Zenji is loudly complaining about Tōko’s attire, which he clearly thinks was an indecent and inexcusable choice for the occasion. Tokuoka, another regular, strides in after having been banned from the bar for a week after getting sick in the bar bathroom. Kimura nostalgically recalls memories of Mitsuo, and asks Zenji about his poems. Zenji shrugs off the questions commenting that he doesn’t know much about them. After a while, the group is introduced to Kiryu, a man in his early thirties, who had moved from Tokyo to Yoichi five years ago to start a winery. Ponpoko put his wine in their menu, and he has become a regular ever since. He suggests Zenji try some wine, but Zenji stubbornly refuses. Kiryu tells him there is a wine he must try before passing judgement, and promises to bring him a bottle soon.
As Zenji walks home from the bar, he recites a poem written by a young Mitsuo which ends with a mention of rice balls his father made for him. Contrary to his earlier casual dismissal of Mitsuo’s poems, he has it memorized word for word. Arriving home, he encounters Tōko and her daughters playing with handheld fireworks. The girls ask him to take them on a ride in his boat, which he refuses. The conversation goes awry when Zenji calls Miharu “retarded”, causing a verbal dispute between him and Tōko, resulting in her declaring they will be leaving.
As Tōko and her daughters are packing their bags the next morning, the girls go through the shelf enshrining their late father’s work. Rin picks up a magazine that he edited, while Miharu finds a photo of a young Mitsuo. Tōko walks in and recognizes the photo and magazine. Gazing at the shelf, it dawns on her that Zenji had kept Mitsuo close to his heart all these years….
Later that evening, Zenji comes home to find that not only had the three not left, they were making themselves at home, preparing dinner. Tōko was cooking the family’s favorite dishes. To his surprise, she places a plate of hamburg steak and rice balls in front of Zenji. He takes a bite of the rice balls and finds an omelette in the center, exactly how he had made them for Mitsuo in the past. He realizes that his son treasured this unassuming dish he made for him, even after their fall out. Overcome with emotion, he gets up from the table and goes to the room with the family altar for the deceased. As he sits in front of the altar, he is seen by Miharu to be crying.
A few days later, Rin picks up the phone to answer a call but before saying anything, asks Miharu if she would like to give it a shot, taking advantage of the fact that Tōko is not around to stop them. Miharu agrees, and answers the phone. On the other end is Shouno, Zenji’s calligraphy teacher, who is curt throughout the conversation. Shouno ends up chiding Miharu for her awkward and grammatically incorrect responses. Miharu is shaken by the experience and retreats to their room, and Rin consoles her by reading the treasured picture book out loud.
Later in the day, the doorbell rings and Miharu cautiously opens the door. Kiryu is standing there, with the bottle of wine that he promised to give Zenji to try out. After introducing themselves to each other, Miharu tells Kiryu that Zenji is sleeping, and Kiryu asks her to give the bottle to him. As Miharu walks back, bottle in hand, Zenji lets out a loud sneeze, startling her and causing her to drop the bottle. As it smashes against the floor, Miharu is once again impacted by the sound, due to her autistic condition. Tōko and Zenji rush to the scene, finding Miharu squatting with her hands over her ears next to the broken bottle and spilled wine. To make matters worse, Zenji scolds her loudly, inundating her senses even more, and she runs away from the scene. As Tōko begins cleaning up the mess, Zenji turns his frustration at her, and they bicker. Kiryu, who was still there this whole time, tries to calm them down by insisting it isn’t the end of the world.
That night, Miharu dreams again of the umbrella vendor. She dreams that several umbrellas are covering her like a shield, protecting her, but also blocking her view. As she talks with the vendor, she expresses a desire to look beyond the umbrellas, oscillating between curiosity and apprehension. This is a reflection of her need or desire for growth and independence in her life despite her fear, partially instilled in her by Tōko’s overprotectiveness. In her dream, she begins to peek out from behind the umbrella with the help of the vendor.
When she wakes up, she tells her mother that she would like to apologize to Kiryu. Tōko tells her there’s no need as she has already done so for her, but Miharu insists that she would like to do it herself, to “see what would happen”. Tōko, while slightly anxious, agrees, just as the doorbell rings. It is Tokuoka, who brought them peaches as a gift. Taking advantage of his good will and obvious admiration of Tōko, she asks him for a favor.
In the following scene, we find Tokuoka driving his car, with Tōko in the passenger’s seat, and Miharu and Rin in the back. They are on their way to Kiryu’s winery. Tokuoka is enthusiastic about the ride, and the ever-precocious Rin is brusque towards him, neglecting to address him as Mr. Tokuoka and simply as Tokuoka (more than likely on purpose), to which Tōko sternly corrects her, twice, in vain.
They arrive at the winery and Tokuoka drops them off. The three walk into the winery café and ask for Kiryu. He arrives, and Miharu musters up the courage to give the best apology she can give. Kiryu, very understanding of her disability, thanks her and recognizes how challenging it must have been for her to venture out to a new place. A wave of relief comes over Miharu and she is able to relax. Kiryu suggests taking them on a tour of the winery since they are here.
As the four begin the winery tour, back at Zenji’s house, the red motorbike belonging to Shouno, the calligraphy teacher, is parked outside. They are quarreling about him missing his classes, with Shouno insisting he resume and him asking her to forget about it.
The scenes go back and forth between the winery tour and Zenji’s house, mirroring one another. Shouno excuses herself into his house, and starts setting up the calligraphy materials in his living room. Here it is revealed for the first time why Zenji was taking classes from her to begin with: he wanted to improve his writing to reply to a letter he had received from Mitsuo.
Back at the winery, where Kiryu is giving them a very detailed tour of the wine making process, the girls are listening with genuine curiosity. Kiryu amicably responds to their comments and questions, even when Rin cuts him off with her own take as he is explaining.
Zenji and Shouno’s argument remains in a standstill, as neither wants to give an inch. “The day I give up is the day I die”, Shouno states, to which Zenji reveals that his son has, in fact, died. Shouno is seen momentarily in shock, and apologizes to Zenji, but after that brief rupture in their conversation, resumes preparing the calligraphy materials anyway. Bewildered, Zenji begins to question her when she makes a profound suggestion that perhaps the real purpose of the letter he wanted to write was precisely to write it, not necessarily to send it.
The winery tour takes the four to the grape fields, where Kiryu comments that the grapes are ripe for harvest. Back home, Zenji stares at the blank sheet of paper and recalls out loud that Shouno had taught him the stroke order was imperative to writing in Japanese kanji characters. That if stroke order was not followed, everything starts to fall apart. He then asks, “isn’t that the same with the order in which people die?” He then comments that when people don’t pass away in the order that they were born, the old going before the young, it messes everything up. It is heart-breaking.
As Miharu and Rin are plucking ripe grapes off the vines in the field, Tōko thanks Kiryu. Feeling the need to explain, she opens up to Kiryu about Miharu’s autism. She goes on to say that while it is mild, it still makes simple tasks challenging. Tōko considers herself the only one who can protect Miharu, and is determined to stay alive longer than her, if even but a day. Kiryu then begins to (seemingly parabolically) explain that it is impossible to protect the grapes from every external threat from planting to harvest. Tōko asks him if he is trying to teach her something to which he responds that he is merely explaining what his job entails.
Back at the Sasaki home, Shouno is explaining to Zenji that most strokes in Japanese kanji go from left to right, the way our eyes naturally gaze from left to right. Moving towards the right is also a sign of progress. Words, Shouno explains, are the witness of all progress and as such, continues moving to the right.
In another part of town, Jiro’s daughter Sakura is busy buying several copies of the latest issue of Haiku Now, a literary magazine. The bookstore clerk asks her why, and she answers that her father’s haiku had been published. The clerk is surprised, as it is well-known that Jiro’s verses are unsavory to say the least, but Sakura explains that he had submitted one that was a completely different style. Sakura then goes about town proudly distributing the magazine with her father’s verse.
Later that evening, the usual crowd is drinking at Ponpoko, and Jiro is bragging about his haiku being published in the magazine. As everyone is congratulating Jiro on his achievement, Zenji arrives and the bar owner asks Jiro to read his haiku out loud. Jiro, contrary to his pompous attitude from just a minute ago, is suddenly bashful and hesitant to read his haiku out loud, mumbling excuses to get out of the situation. However, his daughter had already distributed the magazine to what seems like half the town, including the bar owner who takes out her own copy and begins to read from it: All of the what-ifs, let alcohol do its job, and forget those words.
Slowly, Zenji realizes that it is the haiku that he had spontaneously come up with when he and Jiro were drinking at his house. Jiro apologizes for submitting it as his own writing, saying that he did it just to see what would happen, since his own submissions never had any success. Far from being annoyed or angry, Zenji expresses excitement and gratitude for what Jiro had done, commenting that his writing must not be too bad if it was good enough to be published. They all drink and celebrate and joke around until Sakura barges in to take her drunk father back home as usual.
That night, the umbrella vendor shows up in Miharu’s dream again, bringing with him the usual supply of umbrellas for her to choose from. This time, however, Miharu shakes her head no to each one he pulls out. When he finally asks her what kind of umbrella she is looking for, she responds “one to share with the person you like”. The vendor smiles gently and pulls out an umbrella with no canopy, only the ribs. “Wouldn’t the rain fall on us under this?” Miharu asks, and the vendor gives a cryptic answer as he opens it up.
The next day we see Miharu admiring the dress her mother wore to her father’s 49th day memorial service. Rin walks in on her older sister looking in the mirror with the dress. Miharu beckons to her sister and whispers something in her ear. Rin squeals with excitement and comes up with a plan.
Meanwhile, in the living room, Shouno is giving Zenji a calligraphy lesson. Zenji admits he doesn’t know what to write in the letter, and Shouno suggests he say it out loud. As the two chat, Miharu and Rin approach Shouno, and Miharu asks for a ride. Shouno agrees and takes Miharu on her bike to… Kiryu’s winery.
They arrive and find Kiryu. Miharu says, rather frankly, that she came to see him. He is flattered, and remembers that he wanted to give a new bottle of wine to Zenji. He asks Miharu if she would deliver it for him. Miharu is moved by Kiryu’s trust in her, despite the fact that she had broken the previous bottle, and promises to deliver it to Zenji.
Back at the Sasaki residence, Tōko is restless with worry after finding out that Miharu went out by herself. Returning home, Shouno apologizes to Miharu for being harsh on the phone call a while back. Tōko gently scolds her for leaving without permission, and for wearing such a “flashy” dress, which Zenji reminds her is, in fact, hers. Tōko argues that Miharu is “only” twenty, to which Rin, without missing a beat, interjects that she’s “already” twenty. But Tōko is convinced that Miharu can’t take care of herself, and says to them “what if something were to happen to her?” Rin continues to defend her sister, but Miharu speaks up for the first time during this conversation, pointing out that Tōko never refers to her as “older sister” because she is “not normal”. Tōko tries to deny that but is at a loss for words. Miharu hands Zenji the bottle of wine and walks off to their room.
After this incident, Tōko begins to reflect on how she had been raising Miharu all this time. She wakes her up, and puts lipstick on her lips, and they look in the mirror together. Tōko tells her she looks beautiful, and uses the word oneechan (older sister) to her for the first time.
The town of Yoichi heads into the peak of summer, Tōko, Miharu and Rin are enjoying their last few days there. One day, they are finally riding on Zenji’s boat, feeling the gentle rocking of the waves. The three gaze out into the ocean that Mitsuo loved. Tōko brings out the urn with Mitsuo’s ashes. It was Mitsuo’s last request to have his ashes cast into the ocean. Zenji asks if he can be a part of it. Miharu and Rin recite the last poem Mitsuo had written before his death. It is about the ocean, and about his father, Zenji. The four quietly share this moment together.
In his living room, Zenji sits in front of a blank sheet of paper, next to a letter that Mitsuo sent him in the past, with a picture of the family, trying to write. Staring at the blank paper, he begins to say his thoughts out loud…
It is early morning, and Tōko walks along the beach. She is talking out loud to her late husband, whose spirit might be lingering in that ocean he loved. She tells him she completed all his requests—wearing that dress to his memorial, sprinkling his ashes into the sea, introducing their daughters to his father—and confesses that she is lost without his direction…
Meanwhile the girls are still sleeping. In her dream, Miharu is talking with the umbrella vendor, explaining how her encounter with Kiryu went. Floating umbrellas surround them…
At this point, the scenes between the three characters begin to weave, each continuing in its own sequence, yet interconnected at the same time. Each expressing, almost confessing, what had been in the depths of their hearts. Tōko admits her fear and need to protect Miharu, but accepts that she needs to let go and recognize that there is a whole world of joy beyond the limits of her protection, however scary it may be. Zenji realizes that his stubbornness had made him blind to what was important, and it had robbed him of a chance at reconciliation while Mitsuo was still alive. But he doesn’t want to drown in a sea of regret, and it may not be too late to find peace. Miharu expresses her resolve to venture beyond the familiar, deciding for herself, without the protection of the umbrellas. She folds the umbrellas one by one, maybe to use for another day, but not now. They had protected her, made all the noises of the rain uniform, bearable, safe. But now she wants to feel and hear the rain on her body, absorbing the different sounds and sensations as they are. The face of the umbrella vendor is revealed, a look of fatherly love gently radiating from it…
The story ends with Tōko, Zenji, and Miharu saying the same word that encapsulates their closures and new beginnings: Congratulations.
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