FATHER, HERE
A quiet short film about the space between a father and son — and the love that’s never said aloud.
Written by Masaya Matsui
Dedicated to my dear Father.
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A Note from the Director/Writer
The inspiration for this story came from my experience living between Japan and Europe — two cultures with vastly different approaches to family intimacy.
In the West, it’s not unusual for adult children to say “I love you” to their parents, or to spend vacations together well into adulthood. These gestures of affection are spoken and shared openly. In contrast, traditional Japanese families, like the one I grew up in, rarely exchange such words. Yet, I believe these quieter relationships hold their own kind of depth — one rooted in subtlety, respect, and quiet devotion.
This film captures one such moment of subtle love. The father, unable to say what he feels aloud, leaves a “Graduation Gift” — a white envelope traditionally containing money — on his son’s table. It is his “Best regards.” His way of expressing love with dignity, not through words, but through presence and thoughtful absence.
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CHARACTERS
EIJI — A small, upright man in his 60s. A quiet, awkward father from the countryside.
SHINTARO — His son, early 20s. Recently graduated, emotionally reserved.
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INT. SHINKANSEN — MORNING
The bullet train glides through the countryside. Mount Fuji slowly appears in the window, glowing in the morning sun.
An elderly man (EIJI) squints at the brightness.
EXT. SHINKANSEN PLATFORM — MORNING
A crowd of people floods the bullet train platform.
EIJI steps off the train. A small man with perfect posture.
He wears a suit, tie, gray collar coat, and carries a modest Boston bag.
Station announcements and boarding buzzers echo as the platform bustles.
TITLE: “FATHER, HERE”
EXT. UNIVERSITY AUDITORIUM — MORNING
Graduation Day. Students in suits and kimonos gather in front of a large university hall.
SHINTARO (early 20s) walks briskly through the crowd.
A group of mixed-gender classmates waves at him.
CLASSMATE (female) Hey! Over here!
SHINTARO
(Smiling, joins them)
EXT. SUBWAY EXIT — MORNING
EIJI, holding a map, exits the subway station.
He scans the area, spots a sign pointing toward the university, and starts walking in that direction.
EXT. UNIVERSITY CAMPUS — MORNING
EIJI walks through campus like a tourist, taking in the surroundings.
A message alert (PIRON).
He takes out his reading glasses and checks his phone. He glances around to orient himself.
EXT. UNIVERSITY AUDITORIUM — MORNING
SHINTARO and a friend search the crowd.
SHINTARO Dad! Over here!
His friend looks where SHINTARO is pointing.
EIJI
Didn’t think the place was this big. Hey, your tie’s all crooked…
(The friend bows. EIJI doesn’t notice and starts fixing SHINTARO’s tie.)
SHINTARO
(Embarrassed, pulls away and adjusts it himself) There are some seats in the back for parents.
EIJI
Got it. So, after the ceremony — what are you planning? Maybe we could gra —
FRIEND
Hey, Shintaro!
SHINTARO
Oh, it’s starting!
EIJI
And after the ceremony, you…
SHINTARO
(Hands EIJI a key)
You know my place, right? I’ll head home after. See you then!
(He walks off with friends without looking back.)
EXT. UNIVERSITY AUDITORIUM — AFTERNOON
Applause echoes as the president’s speech ends.
Students pour out of the hall.
EIJI comes out alone, SHINTARO nowhere in sight.
He gazes at the graduation sign, a small, satisfied smile.
After a pause, he begins walking slowly.
EXT. STUDENT DISTRICT — AFTERNOON
A bustling bar street filled with graduates.
SHINTARO and his group walk through, laughing.
GROUP
Congrats! Cheers! Let’s go drinking!
(The energy heightens. SHINTARO pauses, checks his phone.)
GROUP MEMBER Shintaro, come on!
(He pockets the phone and follows the group into a bar.)
EXT. NEAR BIG STATION — AFTERNOON
EIJI sits on a bench, sipping tea from a bottle, looking up at the high-rises. He takes out his phone and snaps a photo.
EXT. RESIDENTIAL ALLEY — AFTERNOON
A quiet neighborhood with aging wooden apartments.
EIJI climbs a narrow staircase.
INT. SHINTARO’S APARTMENT — EVENING
Dim sunlight streams in.
EIJI walks around the small room, absorbing it all.
He opens the window and gazes outside, contemplative.
He sips canned coffee.
INT. KARAOKE BOX — NIGHT
SHINTARO’s friends shout into mics.
SHINTARO checks his phone — nothing. He zones out briefly.
Friends tease and hand him the remote.
SHINTARO
(Fakes a smile and selects a song)
EXT. CONVENIENCE STORE — NIGHT
Under bright lights, EIJI checks his phone. It rings.
He answers.
EIJI
Yeah… still here. Ah, I see. Okay, then.
INT. KARAOKE BOX — NIGHT
SHINTARO screams into the mic.
The group roars.
EXT. CITYSCAPE — NIGHT
City lights glow. Trains pass.
The city doesn’t sleep.
INT. APARTMENT — NIGHT
Empty wrappers of onigiri and sandwiches on the table.
EIJI looks at his watch, smoking.
He exhales, puts out the cigarette, stands with effort.
Puts on his coat, lifts his bag, pulls out a white envelope.
Places it on the table.
(A white envelope labeled “Graduation Gift” — a traditional monetary gift in Japan, given to celebrate milestones like graduation. It’s the father’s quiet way of saying “Best regards.”)
Turns off the light and exits.
(The door closes. Darkness.)
INT. APARTMENT — NIGHT
Door opens into darkness.
Light flicks on.
SHINTARO stumbles in.
He sees the trash, the ashtray, the silence.
On the table: a white envelope labeled “Graduation Gift.”
(In Japan, such envelopes customarily contain money — a quiet yet meaningful gesture from parent to child.)
SHINTARO (Exhales deeply)
INT. SHINKANSEN — NIGHT
City lights blur past.
EIJI is reflected in the train window, sipping a can of beer.
FADE OUT.
End.
#Screenplay #Short Film #JapaneseCulture #FatherandSon #FamilyRelationships #QuietCinema #EmotionalStorytelling #IndependentFilm
