Kei Ishikawa’s adaptation of Kazuo Ishiguro’s A Pale View of Hills examines postwar trauma and memory in Nagasaki

Director Kei Ishikawa’s film adaptation of Kazuo Ishiguro’s 1982 debut novel, A Pale View of Hills, delves into themes of identity, memory, and the enduring legacy of the atomic bombings in Japan. The story centres on Etsuko (played by Yoh Yoshida), an unreliable narrator living in England in 1982, who is preparing to move house while grappling with the recent suicide of her elder daughter, Keiko. Her younger daughter, Niki (Camilla Aiko), visits and probes into their family history, revealing layers of secrets, lies, and omissions between mother and daughter.

As Etsuko recounts her past, the narrative shifts to Nagasaki in 1952, seven years after the atomic bomb ‘Fat Man’ devastated the city on 9 August 1945, killing up to 70,000 people. Amid postwar hardship, discrimination against hibakusha (those affected by the bomb), neighbourhood gossip, and crimes against children, the young Etsuko (Suzu Hirose) navigates her pregnancy, an strained marriage, and a friendship with her troubled neighbour Sachiko (Fumi Nikaidô) and her daughter Mariko, who bears visible scarring from radiation exposure. Sachiko dreams of escaping to America to avoid prejudice.

The film employs subtle visual nods to 1950s Japanese cinema, such as warm golden cinematography and a poster for Yasujirō Ozu’s The Flavor of Green Tea Over Rice, to evoke the era’s atmosphere. As parallels emerge between characters—particularly Etsuko and Sachiko—the story raises questions about truth, blending identities, and hidden traumas, including Etsuko’s own radiation exposure and fears for her unborn child. Family photographs further complicate the narrative, suggesting deeper untruths and linking past suffering to later family events.

Ishikawa draws inspiration from films like The Hours to portray interconnected women’s stories across time, aiming to update Nagasaki’s history for modern audiences. Through understated performances, evocative imagery, and a focus on unspoken words, hidden gestures, and objects as carriers of memory, the adaptation gently uncovers the generational transmission of trauma from the atomic bombings, exploring what people still carry in silence.