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Title: Okaeri: The spy of the rising sun
Genre: Dramedy
Duration: 110 minutes
Director: Camila Murayama Tagami
Production Companies: Studio Taiyou, Mestizo Studios
Languages: Spanish, Japanese
Locations: Lima (Perú)
Following the onset of the Peruvian government’s anti-Japanese measures during World War II, a young girl, the daughter of Japanese immigrants, navigates the xenophobic streets of Lima in search of her father, hoping to prevent his deportation to a U.S. internment camp. But her mission takes an unexpected turn when she crosses paths with a nationalist, anti-Japanese boy who offers her a deal for her freedom: help him fold a thousand paper cranes to make a wish.
RESTORING A FORGOTTEN PAST
The first group of Japanese immigrants arrived in Peru in 1899, disembarking from the Sakura Maru at the port of Cerro Azul. These Issei pioneers came as contract workers, and through resilience, sacrifice and hard work, gradually laid the foundations of what is now one of the largest Nikkei communities in the world. More than 126 years later, their descendants number over 200,000 people across five generations, a living testament to the enduring ties between Japan and Peru.
World War II marked a turning point in history. Amid global conflict and growing nationalist sentiment, the Japanese-Peruvian community was subjected to state-sanctioned discrimination and suspicion. In 1940, violent anti-Japanese riots broke out in Lima; schools, associations and businesses were shut down; and hundreds of Japanese residents were arrested and deported to U.S. internment camps, many without due process. These events remain a painful and largely unacknowledged chapter in both Japanese and Latin American memory.
Okaeri: The Spy of the Rising Sun was born from the need to preserve and share this story. Rooted in personal memory yet grounded in historical research, the film confronts the fear of “the other” with empathy and emotional truth. It explores how prejudice is learned, and therefore, can be unlearned. Through a delicate balance of temperance and irreverent childhood imagination, the film affirms a simple truth: "Minna unchi" (everybody poops), we all share the same dreams and vulnerabilities that make us human.
This film is envisioned as a cultural bridge between Japan and Peru, a tribute to the Issei generation, and an invitation to intergenerational dialogue. Okaeri aims to spark reflection, preserve memory, and deepen mutual understanding between cultures. We are currently seeking collaboration with Japanese and Peruvian institutions that share this vision and recognize its importance. This is a unique opportunity to help bring a part of the Nikkei experience to light with honesty, sensitivity and warmth.
DIRECTOR'S STATEMENT
My name is Camila Murayama Tagami. I’m a screenwriter, director, educator, and a fourth-generation Japanese-Peruvian woman. Okaeri: The Spy of the Rising Sun is my debut feature film and a personal attempt to preserve a part of history that has long been silenced, even within families like my own.
During World War II, hundreds of Japanese immigrants in Peru were arrested without charges, their assets seized, and many deported to U.S. internment camps. My grandmother was only nine when she was forced into hiding with her parents in a hotel storage room. For decades, she never spoke of it. Like many in the community, her silence and cultural assimilation were a form of survival. This silence (both personal and historical) and the urgency to preserve these memories before they’re lost, were the starting point for Okaeri.
Set in 1940s Lima, the film follows Nozomi, a young nissei girl who confronts state violence, xenophobia and the progressive disappearance of her community as she tries to prevent her father’s deportation. While fictional, the story is deeply rooted in historical events and emotional truths passed down through generations. It seeks to recover a collective memory, but also question how prejudice originates (and how it can be unlearned).
Aesthetically, the film is a blend between cultural restraint and emotional honesty, a dance between quiet, intimate moments and the unpredictability of childhood. Visually, it’s inspired by Yasujiro Ozu’s Ohayou: static, carefully composed shots (honoring the silence of intergenerational trauma), with a low camera angle at the children’s eye level. But through Nozomi and Miguel’s perspective, we follow a narrative that -rather than still- borrows from Jojo Rabbit’s irreverent energy, where humor becomes the children’s way of coping with this new Peru that’s being transformed by fear. This way, farts, paper cranes and cardboard “military” missions bring a lightness that makes heavier moments more human, mirroring my grandmother’s stories: full of sadness, but also warmth.
Okaeri is designed to resonate across generations and borders: for those old enough to have lived this history, and those young enough to ask about it. It is a tribute to the resilience of the Peruvian Japanese community and a message of hope to anyone who’s ever felt like they didn’t belong. It reminds us that, regardless of where we come from or the challenges we face, at the end of the day, everybody shares the same dreams, fears and longings: “Minna unchi” (everybody poops).