A FILM BY ANNE-SOPHIE CHAUMIER LE CONTE (60 MIN) COPRODUCED BY CC&C ET NHK WITH THE PARTICIPATION OF FRANCE 2 LOGLINE A blend of boldness and tradition, Empress Michiko of Japan succeeded in doing what no other Japanese empress had done before her: taking control of her life despite her lack of official power. She transformed the timid respect shown by an entire nation to its emperor into a real and sincere attachment. Installed at the heart of Japanese society when the country was in a state of collapse after World War II, and then launched on a frantic course to achieve modernity, over a period of 60 years, Michiko followed an unexpected path: that of encouraging the Japanese people to indulge in greater introspection in order to build a united, peaceful and enlightened Japan. SYNOPSIS No empress had ever shown or expressed herself so much. Since her marriage to Crown Prince Akihito in 1959, Michiko was constantly in the spotlight and the public eye on account of her deeds, her love of the arts and her words. She also gained attention through her use of waka, traditional Japanese poems that Michiko, while still a young fiancée, learned to use to echo her thoughts, feelings and deepest convictions. Yet, as a commoner, she should never have sat on the Chrysanthemum Throne, the symbol of a legendary dynasty. Born in 1934 in imperialist and warmongering Japan, Michiko Shōda experienced the brutal collapse of a codified and hierarchical world that she believed to be imperishable. The destruction of Tokyo in 1945, the suffering of the entire population and the American military occupation together turned the projected life of this young girl from a good family upside-down. After refusing several marriage proposals from Crown Prince Akihito, why did Michiko finally accept to place herself at the service of her country, sacrifice her freedom and leave her family behind her? It was not an arranged marriage as the aristocracy and her future mother-in-law, Empress Nagako, were fiercely opposed to this marriage to a commoner. Far from being simply a “tennis-court romance”, as it was presented by the Japanese press, it was the coming together of two convinced pacifists who had received both a Japanese and a Western education. Their marriage was above all a partnership to serve peace and the Japanese people. Following the end of the war, General Douglas MacArthur understood that he needed to keep Emperor Hirohito at the head of the country and save his honour so that Japan could become a future trading partner of the United States. However, the new constitution established in 1946 turned the power relationship between the emperor and his people inside-out, with the population becoming sovereign and the emperor losing his supremacy. From then on, the Emperor’s only duty was to symbolise the state and the unity of the Japanese people. This new role was so broad and elusive that it had to be invented. When Emperor Hirohito – who evaded trial in Tokyo for war crimes – was unable to find his new place in post-war Japan, Akihito and Michiko were pushed to the fore to represent the country’s democratic renewal and Western-style modernity. This marked the first step taken towards, what will become for Akihito, being the Symbol of the state. From the time of their marriage in 1959, which was beamed all over the world and was responsible for the sale of millions of television sets in Japan, Akihito and Michiko became – and would remain for the following 60 years – the ambassadors of a new and pacifist Japan. Unlike what occurred in Germany after WWII, Japan made no official admission of guilt, which remains 1 a source of tension for China and South Korea. As the crown prince and crown princess, and then emperor and empress, Akihito and Michiko communicated many messages of solace and reconciliation to their neighbouring countries and the Japanese people who had suffered so much during the war. Akihito went so far as to express his deep personal remorse, though he is not authorised by the government to apologise officially on behalf of the country. Akihito and Michiko voiced a new message that encouraged the Japanese people to reflect on the country’s militarist past and perhaps too on a collective responsibility that the history books barely touch on. In their own way, both subtly encouraged the Japanese people to shoulder their newly created sovereignty and to make their voices heard at the urns, especially when Shinzo Abe’s government was considering revising Japan’s pacifist constitution. After WWII, almost all the governments followed the same pacifist line as the emperor but the arrival in power of Shinzo Abe radically altered the government’s priorities. Michiko received little credit for her achievements, which is disconcerting for a Westerner. Officially, she remains in her husband’s shadow but in fact she attracts all the light. Only males in direct line to the Chrysanthemum Throne are considered important, but Akihito has helped develop the role of the empress by offering his wife a broader range of activities and greater visibility. It would be misleading to attribute to Michiko the ambition to share the emperor’s power or to give specific instructions from the side-lines. She guided him in a very subtle way, never overstepping the bounds of her role. She has definitely modernised the image of the imperial family at a moment when it was in a very delicate situation. Paradoxically, the imperial household, which some people thought would disappear after the war, found in Michiko a unique opportunity to transform itself and to assume a new respectability. Besides, Michiko has never ceased to focus her attention on the well-being of the Japanese people, which has given her role a more meaningful and personal character. She has developed a direct relationship with the Japanese that has led the emperor to become one with them and understand them. As Akihito stresses, his solitary and stiff childhood education with private tutors never allowed him to have a personal relationship with ordinary Japanese. Wishing to bring radical changes, he wanted his wife to accompany him on this new path, and together the imperial couple embarked on this adventure within a few months of their marriage. She rapidly became the darling of the press and her style was imitated by all Japanese women. She was the “Grace Kelly” of Japan and her popularity stimulated the “Michi Boom”. She was immensely popular with the Japanese but unpopular in the palace and with the aristocracy, who would not pardon her for daring to marry the crown prince. Her daily life is far from being as ideal as the photos show her in the press. She has suffered humiliation, permanent pressure and a lack of psychological support. She dealt with it all alone while accompanying her husband on his activities, that were a real breath of fresh air, along with the time she spent with her children, whom she chose to raise without the help of palace tutors. Her children are the first within the imperial family who have studied at schools open to the public. In spite of adversity, that has led her once to loose her voice for four months, she heroically managed to keep active and positive with the moral support of her husband and her children. Where has she found the resources for 60 years to modernise and humanise her role and to nudge Japanese society in the direction of greater introspection and altruism? Having raised her son Naruhito, the current emperor, in the most human way possible, has she not brought about a revolution in the imperial household? With a dash of humour, Akihito likened the emperor to a robot as his slightest gesture or word is codified. Michiko did away with this system and succeeded in establishing a warmer 2 and more generous education for her children, one that is also more open to the world. She has helped establish safeguards to prevent the Japanese people from falling back into errors of the past, and she has encouraged her children and people of Japan not to give others power over their lives. Each has to accept and bear responsibility for their actions and future. Could this be her most important message? It seems simple but how very burdensome it is, especially in Japan. NOTE ON THE TREATMENT “Michiko, the Strength of the Reed” is aimed at engaging the interest and emotions of a non-Japanese public. In order for Michiko’s extraordinary life to appeal to the broadest audience, and for the archive images to illustrate the complex nature of this committed woman, her battles and her beliefs, but also the history of Japan and its changes during her husband’s reign, her story needs to be presented in chronological and thematic chapters, thereby clearly identifying the topics and intentions. Each chapter will represent an important period of Michiko’s life and will contain the classic components of an archive-film history but also much more personal ingredients that will help create a warm and informal portrait. This necessary contrast will make it possible to investigate this iconic woman by placing her deeds, choices and declarations in a historic and international perspective. Archive videos and photos: the wealth of images coming from the Imperial household and Japanese media, never published outside Japan, are one of the strengths of this documentary. Personal photo albums and official films that have escaped the notice of History provide numerous sources. The voice and words of the empress: while Michiko is a well-known and recognised person, it is difficult to know what she really thinks.