Debut: 'Nisei'

World War II is a unique moment in American history. For the first time, the country was engaged in war with a clearly defined enemy; the “bad guys” weren’t complex — they were Nazi Germany fighting for control of the world and the elimination of those they deemed inferior. In reflection, America’s victory with the Allied forces is hailed as a heroic moment in history. What is left out is perhaps more chilling.

After the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, the US declared war on Japan, officially entering the war against the Axis powers. To maintain security, the US government ordered the internment of all Japanese-descended citizens living in the country at the time. Over 120,000 Japanese Americans were placed into internment camps where they struggled with limited resources and harsh treatment.

Those who wished for a way out of the internment camps could volunteer for the armed services and join the fight against the Axis powers. These Japanese men who volunteered formed the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, and this is where Nisei’s story begins. 

The title of the film stems from the word “nisei,” which is a second-generation Japanese person who resides in the US. The film follows the Miyasaki brothers, Minoru (Jonathan Tanigaki) and John (Brent Yoshida). The film opens with the brothers leaving a bus to visit their father in an internment camp. John refuses to get off the bus and visit his family, forcing Minoru to visit by himself and face his father’s judgment.

The film’s smooth and steady camerawork, up until the scene at the end when the brothers and their group of soldiers are attacked in Italy, reflects the headspace of Minoru, the brother followed for a majority of the film. Minoru is aware of his situation, approaching the entrance of the internment camp with caution, talking delicately to the White guard manning the front gate. 

Minoru’s mindset is one of hyperawareness and therefore delicacy. He knows the country he lives in sees him as a threat to their very existence, so he joins the army to show that they are fighting for the same basic tenets of human life. The camerawork reflects this, with the steady shots showing his controlled composure and his confidence in his abilities.

This calm demeanor is also seen at the beginning of the film when, on the bus taking the brothers into California, Minoru catches the gaze of an older White man at the front of the bus staring the two of them down with a look of contempt in his eyes. Minoru immediately pretends to be asleep as well, a quiet and quick moment that reflects how dangerous it was for Japanese Americans at that time to simply live their lives.

The interaction with his father is, again, stunningly shot. As the old man begins speaking to Minoru, the camera holds on his hands, shaking as they pour tea, yet the tone of his voice never rises or lowers; rather, it stays in a neutral place. This moment speaks largely to a character seen only for a few minutes in the 21-minute short film. Minoru and John’s father is a man with pride, yet he is not blinded by it.

As he tells Minoru, the country his sons fight for is not his country; the country his late wife made a flag for has turned against him and called him an enemy just for being an immigrant. The country he called his own has called him a traitor for being born in another place. This pride is seen in the characters of Minoru and John. Two young men who are aware of their situation, and that their regiment is looked down upon by the rest of the US army.

But still, these two young men and their group of Japanese soldiers fight on, determined to prove to an ungrateful nation that their existence is not up for questioning and their loyalty is not up for debate. They are proud Americans and will fight for their country’s right to say they don’t belong.

Directed by Darren Haruo Rae, the film has unfortunate parallels to today’s unstable climate towards immigrants and their children. But the film suggests that these people, these human beings, have a quiet pride and a heartbreaking loyalty to a country that will perhaps always see them as others. But that will not stop them from living, and by living, proving that they are all the more worthy of respect and power.