Working With Ken Shimura Changed Hidehiko Ishizuka’s View of Comedy—Here’s What He Discovered

At 8:00 o.m., the entire Ishizuka family would gather in front of the TV

Hello, everyone. I’m Hidehiko Ishizuka. I was given a plastic raincoat so I wouldn’t get wet while filming on a rainy day, but I ended up sweating so much that my overalls were completely soaked.

This time, I’d like to write about Ken Shimura.

I’m from the generation that grew up watching The Drifters. When I was a child, every Saturday night at 8 p.m., the entire Ishizuka family would gather in front of the television.

I remember getting excited watching Chosuke Ikariya, Boo Takagi, Cha Kato, Koji Nakamoto, and Chu Arai come down the stairs onto the stage wearing happi coats.

My brother and I would look at the set and try to predict what was going to happen: “This time, Ikariya is playing the landlord,” or “This time, he’s a ninja teacher.” We would burst out laughing when Ikariya was treated roughly, or when Chu simply said, “This is a pen.” We would even laugh just because Boo was slow on his feet. It was such a hilarious show that I remember wishing it could have been longer than just one hour.

Then, on “8 o’clock! Everybody’s Here!” (TBS), a show that was practically the soundtrack to our childhood, Ken Shimura appeared in place of Chu Arai.

At first, I was sad that we would no longer get to see Chu’s gags. But little by little, Shimura won the hearts of all the children. I was quickly drawn into his style of comedy, including his forceful retorts toward Ikariya and Kato.

The Demon of sketch comedy and also and Angel

As the years passed, Shimura’s world of comedy continued to evolve in different forms, from “8 o’clock! Everybody’s Here!” to “Kato-chan Ken-chan Gokigen TV” (both on TBS), “Ken Shimura no Daijōbu daぁ” and “Ken Shimura no Baka Tonosama” (both on Fuji TV).

During that time, I had the opportunity to work with Shimura-san on a Fuji TV program called “Ken-chan’s Oh My God!.” It felt like being a fan who suddenly got to meet his favorite star once a week.

At first, all I could do was memorize the script thoroughly and make sure I didn’t get in the way of the comedy. But after we had finished filming two or three episodes, Shimura-san said to me, “Ishizuka-kun, you write comedy sketches, right? There’s a script meeting at Fuji TV every Wednesday. Would you like to join us?” I think that was probably the moment when my heart rate reached its highest point in my entire life.

I like drawing, so I prepared a script and a storyboard and went to the Fuji TV conference room. When I walked in, I was confronted with an astonishing sight. The tables were arranged in a U-shape, with a single tatami mat in the center. Shimura-san was lying face down on the mat, reading through scripts.

The program’s producer, director, and comedy writers were gathered around him. Until Shimura-san said something, not a single person spoke.

After quite some time had passed, Shimura-san said, “Ishizuka-kun, let me see what you brought.” With hands that were visibly trembling, I handed him my script and said, “Yes, here it is!”

There was a brief pause. Then Shimura-san said, “This is good. Let’s do it.” What’s more, he let me play the role that had originally been intended for him. It was more than a dream—I had never even dreamed of seeing something like that.

Shimura-san was a demon when it came to sketch comedy, but at the same time, he was an angel who gave younger performers opportunities. After filming, I would sometimes join him for drinks. Even then, Shimura-san would pay attention to what I was drinking and ask, “Ishizuka-kun, what are you having next?” Once again, I realized what an incredible person he was.

A man who rode around in a limousine after dedicating himself entirely to sketch comedy. A genius who wore a denim jacket embroidered with Mickey Mouse. The fact that Shimura-san called me by my name remains one of my greatest treasures to this day.

From the July 31, 2026 issue of “FRIDAY”