[In Memoriam] Keiko Kishi, Who Passed Away from Old Age… What I Realized During My Interview! The “Pride of a Great Actress” Behind Her Withdrawal from the Drama

She married at the age of 25

It was announced on August 19 on her agency’s official website that actress Keiko Kishi had passed away on August 7 due to old age. She was 93.

When people hear “Kimi no Na wa,” many think of the blockbuster animated film *Your Name.* Others might think of the NHK morning drama series in which Kyoka Suzuki played the heroine, Machiko Ujiie. However, for older generations, “Kimi no Na wa” is synonymous with “Keiko Kishi.”

The film *Your Name*, released in September 1953, became a massive hit, grossing over 200 million yen at the box office.The second installment, released in December of the same year, far surpassed that figure, grossing over 300 million yen and taking the top spot in the box office rankings for that year (with the first installment coming in second). Furthermore, the third installment, released the following year, exceeded the box office revenue of the second installment and claimed the number one spot in the 1954 rankings.

The total number of moviegoers for the trilogy exceeded 30 million. Given that Japan’s population at the time was approximately 87 million, this means that a full one-third of the population saw this film.

The film also sparked a fashion trend.

During filming, Kishi used a stole in an ad-libbed moment, and the way she wrapped it came to be known as the “Machiko wrap,” prompting a surge of women to imitate her style.

Thanks to the film’s massive success, Ms. Kishi became Shochiku’s leading actress and began receiving offers from foreign film directors as well. One of them was the French director Yves Champi. Their appearance together in his film *Unforgettable Love* led to their marriage. She was 24 years old at the time.

Even after marriage, she did not give up acting; she continued working while traveling back and forth between France and Japan. In 1963, her eldest daughter was born, but even while raising her child, she would return to Japan whenever she received an offer and continued to appear in films.

Even after her divorce in 1975, she remained in France, continuing her life of traveling back and forth between France and Japan. She appeared in *The Devil’s Handball Song* (1977) from the Kōsuke Kindaichi series,*The Queen Bee* (1978), as well as films based on works by Jun’ichirō Tanizaki, such as *The Makioka Sisters* (1983), *The Legend of the Milky Way Murder Case* (1991), and *Mother* (2001).She also appeared in a wide range of genres, including director Hideo Gosha’s large-scale period entertainment film *The Hunter in the Dark* (1979) and director Yoji Yamada’s first authentic period drama, *Twilight Seibei* (2002), in addition to numerous television drama appearances.

She also wrote essays and novels. While living in Paris, she served as a local correspondent for NHK and TV Asahi, demonstrating the breadth of her career.

He has consistently avoided the media.

Nine years ago, rumors began circulating that Mr. Kishi was seriously ill.

Although it was limited to a very small circle of industry insiders, word spread that he had withdrawn from a drama he was scheduled to appear in. Reportedly, this happened even after he had already completed his costume fittings. Since Mr. Kishi is over 80 years old, people began to wonder if he might be suffering from some serious illness

However, since the drama hadn’t even been officially announced yet, there was absolutely no information available—not about the title or the plot, nor about what role Ms. Kishi was supposed to play, nor about her co-stars.

The only option was to ask him directly. If he were truly ill, I wouldn’t be able to meet him, let alone get any answers, but I headed to his home anyway, figuring I had nothing to lose.

Mr. Kishi’s home was situated on a hill not far from a private railway station in Yokohama, Kanagawa Prefecture. Standing on a vast lot was a traditional Japanese house that exuded a sense of history. There was no nameplate on the large gate, but when I pressed the intercom,

“Hello. Who’s there?”

a familiar voice replied. When I explained the purpose of my visit,

“Whenever something like this happens, people in the media always try to make it seem like I’m sick, don’t they?”

Her tone wasn’t so much accusatory as it was one of exasperation, and

“But as you can see, I’m as healthy as a horse,”

she said, dismissing the rumors of a serious illness outright. So, when I asked why she had withdrawn from the drama even after going through a costume fitting,

“I can’t say that because it would be unfair to the TV station—I’m sorry, but I can’t,”

she replied, turning me down.

But just when I thought the conversation was over, she began to recount the circumstances leading up to her withdrawal in that same matter-of-fact tone.

Finally,

“I’ve always avoided interviews like this.It wasn’t something I wanted to do, but since you came all this way twice, I felt I had to tell you because I felt bad. But if you write about this, it’ll cause trouble for the TV station, and above all, it’ll tarnish the show. The original work (for the drama) is great, and the staff is truly wonderful. I’m quietly praying for this show’s success.”

Her feelings toward the TV station and the production staff, as well as her respect for the work, came through clearly. Then,

“So please don’t write about this. And don’t tell anyone else. Will you promise me that? This is a matter of trust between two people. I trust you,”

And so, she made me promise not to write about it.

Since I can’t break that promise, I can’t go into details, but it seems she volunteered to step down herself—and in that, I could sense Ms. Kishi’s pride as an actress and her strong dedication to her craft.

Even so, I can only admire Ms. Kishi’s generosity and kindness for trusting a reporter she didn’t even know and agreeing to the interview.

When I mentioned that I’d brought a small gift (baked goods) as I was leaving,

“I can’t have sweets, you know. I wish it had been wine instead (laughs). Would it be okay if I gave them to the housekeeper who comes to my place?”

I could picture Ms. Kishi, radiating grace and smiling gently, right there on the other end of the intercom… I bow my head in respect.