’Yakushima’s Illusion’ review: Vicky Krieps stars in Naomi Kawase’s humanistic Japanese hospital drama

Dir/scr: Naomi Kawase. France/Japan/Belgium/Luxembourg. 2025. 122mins

Physical and emotional affairs of the heart are front and centre in Naomi Kawase’s loose but poignant drama that hinges on the importance of human connection and the shocking suddenness of loss. Her story delicately revolves around the work and personal life of French transplant expert Corry (Vicky Krieps), who is on a job exchange with a hospital in Kobe, Japan.

Kawase’s delicate handling delivers poignancy

While on the ethereal side in places, Kawase shows Hirokazu Kore-eda levels of skill when it comes to channelling the energy and spirit of the younger members of her cast, and delivers a humanistic pay-off without slipping into sentimentalism. The film was a late addition to Locarno competition, and a bright future at other festivals and arthouse interest seems likely.

The exact job Corry has at the hospital is never precisely explained, but it involves speaking to staff about the international organ donor landscape, while also spending time on the paediatric transplant ward with hopeful parents and children. Time is of the essence for these kids, but we learn that while those needing a transplant in Spain wait an average of 88 days for a donor, those in Japan face an average of 1,719 days in limbo. That amounts to more than four-and-a-half years; a huge chunk of a child’s lifetime. Kawase uses inquisitive incomer Corry as a means of exploring some of the cultural reasons for this, as she gets to know some of the children and their parents on the ward.

While those waiting for news may watch the clock, Kawase takes a much more fluid approach to time, folding hospital life into an evolving love story between Corry and the much younger Jin (Kanichiro). Corry meets Jin while hiking in the lush green forests of Yakushima island, his insistence on taking a box camera photo of her immediately ingratiating. As the narrative jumps around in time, we learn they have set up home together – but tensions around what seems to be a lack of commitment on Jin’s part come to the fore.

The non-linearity of this element feels more of an affectation than driven by narrative requirements but the subplot has stand-out moments, from the lover’s blush on Krieps during a sex scene to an abrupt mood change during birthday celebrations when Jin makes an unexpected revelation. A Paris segment in which we see Corry grappling with personal grief, however, adds little to what is already a complex film.

Not long after Jin and Corry meet, he teaches her to cup her hands at the front of her ears, so that she hears what is happening behind her more clearly. Kawase takes a similar approach to the transplant storyline, which she considers from all angles and which, to its benefit, increasingly becomes the main focus of Yakushima’s Illusion. There’s an almost docu-real feel to a conversation Corry has with Megumi and Ryoji (Machiko Ono, Kazuki Kitamura, both memorable in small, beautifully drawn roles), a couple whose own loss has led them to bring bento boxes for other families waiting at the hospital. Kawase also makes time for the friendship that develops between young transplant patients Hitomi (Misaki Nakano) and Hisashi (Ojiro Nakamura), and considers the way children’s approach to death differs from that of adults.

There is also a strong medical documentary element regarding heart surgery itself, which is depicted in frank sequences that may not be for the faint-hearted. There is a nagging sense of some artifice, however, not least the way so many of the Japanese people Corry encounters appear to have a good grasp of French.

Grief and human connection are ongoing themes in Kawase’s work, and come to the fore again here. For a child’s life to be saved, another’s must be lost and Kawase articulates the selfless generosity which underpins organ donation. Contrasts are a highlight of the film, which shifts in rhythm from the intense and often anxious performance of Krieps to the open-hearted energy of the children; from the calm and hyper-focused energy of the operating theatre to the restless and unpredictable nature of the weather. And while the film’s final act could easily have felt manipulative, Kawase’s delicate handling means it delivers poignancy without skipping a beat.