Nekotei Newsletter #2, Aug 1985 (Akihiko Hirata memorial doujinshi) - English Translation

I think you should all buckle up.

This is a translation of the memorial doujinshi published in 1985 by Nekotei Newsletter, which includes a few words at the beginning by Ishiro Honda and then two back-to-back essays by Motohide Katayama, the first of which your author was not entirely dry-eyed while transcribing. I originally posted about this doujinshi a few years back (wow, I was terser then; I should revamp that post a bit) and was delighted to finally get a saved search hit on it recently, so I got my hands on it as soon as I could.

I'll let this thing speak for itself, but suffice to say, as we've seen here and there over the course of this blog's existence, Hirata was very much beloved by both his fans and the people around him, and his death came as a huge tragedy, if not necessarily a shock, as he'd been ill for some time. It still is a tragedy 42 years later, but this doujinshi presents some really rare insight into the state of the fandom (as it were) at the time. And not to be a cornball or anything, but reading Katayama's essays felt like... is there an expression in any language that combines both "looking into a mirror" and "shaking hands emphatically with someone"? Because it was like that.

I should note that I have excluded the filmography section from translation since that is easily available elsewhere. This post will contain only the essays. I'm also including full scans; it's 16 pages, so you'll have to scroll quite a bit, but the translation is below. This is mostly a machine TL but I have checked it over to make sure it's reasonably accurate to the best of my abilities.

Before we move on, I just want to say that I don't think I can overstate the importance of Katayama's essay on television. Katayama was writing entirely from memory and notes that he had personally taken while looking at TV guides, and he mentions several titles that - as far as I can tell - have literally no presence on the internet at all. Meaning: if it were not for Katayama having kept notes throughout the 1970s and writing them up in 1985 for this doujinshi, all record of Hirata having been in these specific titles Katayama mentions would be lost. It keeps me at night to think about how much else is out there that has been lost to time.

Anyway.

Ishiro Honda's tribute.

"Thinking of Mr. H..." by Motohide Katayama, page 1

"Thinking of Mr. H..." by Motohide Katayama, page 2

"Thinking of Mr. H..." by Motohide Katayama, page 3

Katayama's TV essay, page 1

Katayama's TV essay, page 2

Katayama's TV essay, page 3

Editor's note

From Ishiro Honda

It is a great loss that we have lost Hirata; I find it deeply regrettable.

He appeared in various films of mine, ranging from Godzilla to Terror of Mechagodzilla, but his role in the original Godzilla was particularly significant. The young Hirata's sharp, intelligent appearance was perfectly suited for the role of a brilliant scientist who lived like a recluse. Acting is a human endeavor, so if an actor is averse to monster or special-effects films, you simply can't expect a good performance. While there are certain roles that demand a specific actor (and we do cast newcomers), I consistently relied on a core group that included Hirata and [Yoshio] Tsuchiya. Hirata, for his part, seemed to genuinely enjoy appearing in my films.

He was an actor with an honest, straightforward approach to performance; he would express exactly what I had in mind, making him a wonderful actor to work with. He memorized his lines quickly, and I have almost no memory of ever struggling to direct him.

Although we rarely had the chance to go out for drinks together in town, he was always the first to join in the fun whenever [we] gathered at my home. He was a serious man who was always considerate of others, so I could always rely on him when it came to organizing things.¹

May [he] rest in peace.

Thinking of Mr. H...

[By Motohide Katayama]

"They told me they'd add lines and make it a more important role, so I agreed. But when it came down to it, nothing had changed at all. That Sawako Ariyoshi, she really is something else..."

It has been a little over a month since Mr. H passed away - the man who shared those words with me when I visited his dressing room during the revival of Ranbu at the Imperial Theater. Hearing the sudden news of that talented authoress [Ariyoshi]'s death recently, I found myself - however cliche it may sound - deeply contemplating the transience and fragility of human life. I also recall something else Mr. H said back then: "I'm a movie actor at heart, you see... I get bored if I have to perform the same thing for weeks on end." He also spoke of his future work: "I have two or three stage productions scheduled for the rest of the year." Yet, that production of Ranbu in February 1983 - during which some criticized Ariyoshi's unusual directorial style - turned out to be Mr. H's final stage appearance, as well as the sixth and last time I ever met him in person. He fell ill before he could play the villain in the special Fujiko Yamamoto production schedule for September; after a brief period of improvement around the New Year, he passed away on July 25th, 1984.

I almost certainly first recognized Mr. H as an actor back in my kindergarten days. For a child whose dreams were filled with monsters and war, movies - especially Toho's bright, entertaining films - were the ultimate form of amusement during that twilight era of the late 1960s and early '70s. I cannot say for sure how many films I saw on the big screen or television, but somewhere along the way, I found myself drawn to Mr. H. It wasn't Yoshio Tsuchiya, Tadao Nakamaru, [Hideyo] Amamoto, Seizaburo Kawazu, Susumu Fujita or Jun Tazaki who captured my heart. The process defies words; one simply comes to like the person. Any attempt at a rational explanation feels superficial - a distortion of something that exists in a realm beyond language. It was akin to what Motoori Norinaga called "mono no aware" [...] and there the feeling remained, fixed and constant.

The difficulty inherent in being an actor lies precisely in this realm. Moreover, only poetry can truly hold its ground here; both praise and condemnation are essentially directed at one's own fantasies, unable to spill over into the outside world. Having written this, I will sidestep the ultimate, difficult question of why I like him; suffice it to say that my deep attachment can be understood as a clear sense of "fandom".

Scouring the TV listings in Weekly TV Guide for Mr. H's name had been a habit of mine from elementary school right up until recently. Dissatisfied with this one-way connection, I eventually wrote a fan letter during the autumn of my fifth-grade year. When no reply came despite my long wait, I tried sending another - but thinking that a messy, scrawled note from a child wouldn't work, I asked my mother to add a few lines this time.

"Motohide, I hear you always watch my shows. I understand you served as a class representative. [I was] class rep during the first term [of sixth grade] and the experience of leading a class is incredibly useful when you grow up. Do your best to become class representative again in the sixth grade. To that end, try not to watch too much TV; cultivating a habit of reading books is more important. Build up your body. And always remain a fine student of L'ECOLE DE L'ETOILE DU MATIN². Right now, I'm filming the movie Terror of Mechagodzilla, it's scheduled for release during the spring break in March. As for TV, I appear in shows like Taiyo ni Hoero!, Rise to the Heavens³, The Family Game, and Onihei Hankacho, though not every week. Please give my regards to your mother. It's cold out, so take care not to catch a cold."

That was the full text of the letter, and the joy of confirming it was in his own handwriting was a feeling I would experience only a few times in my life - far surpassing the emotion of passing a university entrance exam.

My first face-to-face meeting with him took place four months later. It was for a play newly written by Koji Toita titled Legend of the Saints, a production featuring the unusual casting of Eiko Muramatsu and Senri Sakurai as a young couple. Mr. H appeared on stage as a teacher at a girls' school. I must have been trembling as I stood at the entrance to the dressing room after the performance. I can still vividly recall the sensation of my head burning hot with the tension of crossing a line I wasn't supposed to cross. Mr. H came out when called, still wearing his stage makeup and a yukata.

"Glad you could make it. Come on in," he said, guiding me to a corner at the far end of the large dressing room shared by the male actors. The moment one comes face-to-face with the "real thing" - the person who is truly significant to you - is a time of both intense excitement and profound exhaustion. I cannot recall exactly what was said; all I remember [from the moment] is the sight of the couple Keisuke Sunagawa and Nobuyo Oyama standing near the entrance.

For the roughly ten years that followed, I maintained a nodding acquaintance with Mr. H - and to use a rather trite expression, that time felt both long and short. Our second meeting took place not long after, on July 31st, 1975, at the final performance of the Imperial Theater's summer production of The Sound of Music, starring Kaoru Yodo as Maria and Tetsuro Sagawa as Captain von Trapp, with Asao Koike and Kojiro Kusanagi in supporting roles. Mr. H, who played the Nazi admiral [von Schreiber], appeared in the audience just before the curtain rose; dressed in a sports shirt and holding a portable cassette recorder, he spotted me and strode over. I was taken aback. "My scene isn't until the very end anyway," he explained. "There are so many great songs in this show, so I thought I'd sit out here and record them right up to the last minute". As I watched his sturdy figure - after shaking my hand - disappear into a corner of the auditorium, I found myself grinning, filled with genuine delight. The Mr. H I knew was a truly good man in the best sense of the word - someone whose earnest, gentle nature was imbued with a serious intelligence. He was a man who never failed to show thoughtful consideration, even to an obscure fan like me - let alone to his regular colleagues. I wish he had taken more [time off]; it might have made things a little easier on him. When I recall the Mr. H who always treated me with such sincere warmth, the words spoken by Koji Tsuruta at [his] wake move me deeply, bringing tears to my eyes.

At 2:50 PM on July 27th, I pressed my palms together in prayer for a moment outside the gates of Honganji Wadabori Betsuin, where a crowd of onlookers had gathered; then, feeling strangely hollow, I walked toward Shimotakaido Station. I happened upon a secondhand bookstore and wandered inside. The proprietress at the counter seemed to be watching a live broadcast of the funeral; I could hear the reporter using the standard phrases reserved for such sad occasions. A greengrocer who supplied the shop arrived and struck up a conversation with her. "Looks like something's going on over there today." "It's Yoshiko Kuga's husband." "Oh, really? Remind me, what kind of man was he?" A portrait of [Hirata] appeared on the television screen. The greengrocer leaned forward intently to get a better look. "Oh, right, this guy. He was on TV a lot until recently, wasn't he?" "That's him. It's such a shame, he was still young."

Yes, he was young. I had assumed he would live forever, but I supposed that was wishful thinking. There is a strange, stark quality to the way a person simply ceases to be. Right now, I have exactly ten postcards from Mr. H beside me. Eight of them are New Year's cards; the one from 1984 bears the printed red greeting "Happy New Year," followed by a message written in his characteristically elegant handwriting: "I underwent surgery for a duodenal ulcer in September, so I'm taking some time to recuperate". It was a long convalescence - too long to take the message at face value - yet I couldn't simply dismiss it, either.

"He's been getting steadily better lately," people had been saying. That comment from So Yamamura, his senior from the University of Tokyo, formed the basis for how Mr. H was regarded in his later years. Indeed, Mr. H was the sort of actor whose depth and richness only grew with age. He was someone with a promising future ahead of him. The day when his renown as an accomplished actor would eclipse that of [Yoshiko Kuga] was truly close at hand. Yet fate is ever cruel, and that future was sealed off forever.

(Note: This piece was drafted last September and has now been revised. My grief remains unchanged.)

Motohide Katayama's TV Essay

It goes without saying that, like many other film actors, Akihiko Hirata shifted the primary focus of his career to television during the late 1960s. Here, I would like to present a record of Hirata's television appearances - to the best of my knowledge - as a reference for readers. Please not that I am currently 22 years old; while I believe I have covered the period from 1974 onwards reasonably well, there are likely significant omissions regarding the 1980s, a time for which I did not keep detailed notes. I ask for your understanding.

Everyone is likely familiar with Ultra Q and other tokusatsu shows, but his role as Mr. K was truly excellent. He appeared in Daitetsujin 17 for exactly one cour - thirteen episodes starting April 1, 1977. He appeared in episode 12 of Taiyo ni Hoero! as Toshio Kawamoto, a corrupt detective; he delivered a compelling performance in this tragic role, portraying a man who brings about his own ruin through entanglements with organized crime. Later, coinciding with the arrival of Yusaku Matsuda's character, Hirata returned to the series as Nishiyama, an inspector from the Metropolitan Police Department. He transferred to the role of the Nanamagari Precinct Chief, appearing in over forty⁴ episodes and becoming known for his shouting outbursts. Episode 88 in particular was essentially a showcase for [Chief Nishiyama]. There was even a storyline three or four years ago involving a bomb planted at his home.

In other police dramas, he frequently played the role of the criminal. He appeared in Shigeru Amachi's License to Kill on July 12, 1975, and February 19, 1976; playing a politician's secretary in the former and a yakuza executive in the latter. He made four appearances in Jiro Sakagami's Detective at Dawn (December 3rd, 1975; June 30 and September 15, 1976; and September 1, 1977) and played a public prosecutor in Tomorrow's Detective (November 29, 1978). In Running to the Dawn (starring Saburo Shinoda and Kenji Takaoka), he played Keiichiro Tokimura, a company president who orchestrates a staged kidnapping (February 22, 1977). He also appeared in Special Mobile Investigation Unit as a high-ranking police official.

He appeared as a semi-regular, playing the same role of a bureau chief at Haruta Bank as in the film version - the TV adaptation of The Family Game (1974, Asahi Broadcasting). Incidentally, while Yumeji Tsukioka played Daisuke Manpyo's legitimate wife in the movie, Yoshiko Kuga took over the role for the TV series.

In 1974, he appeared as a parent in the elementary school-themed drama Rise to the Heavens, starring Hitoshi Nakayama and Toshio Kurosawa (episodes aired November 2 and 9). Around the same time, he was a regular in the 30-minute daytime soap opera A Wife's Mistake, playing a husband who suspects his wife of infidelity; his character eventually dies after driving drunk and plunging off a cliff. He also played a husband in Yoko Tsukasa's daytime drama Skin of the Mountain (1981) and was a regular in Haruko Mabuchi's River of Flames.

He was an indispensable figure in period dramas as well. Early in his career he was a regular as police constable Shunzo Sasaki in Kikugoro Onoe's Young Lord Samurai's Detective Chronicles, and also appeared in Koshiro [Matsumoto]'s Onihei Hankacho. He had a long association with the Onihei series, appearing as a superior official (a junior councilor) in both the 1975 series starring Tetsuro Tamba and the more recent version starring Kinnosuke [Nakamura], (appearing in the former on May 14, May 28 and August 27). In the 1974 Kurama Tengu [TV series], he played the role of Katamono Komakine, the Kyoto deputy, in the three party Strange Tale of the Mountain Party arc (October 30, November 5 and November 12); his final scene showed him struggling after being tied to a pillar by Tengu. Masaya Takahashi played the Mountain Party leader Matsuyoshi Imamura, and Toshio Sugie served as director.

In Atsuo Nakamura's Kogarashi Monjiro, he played the yakuza boss Kanpachi, meeting a sordid and undignified end. He exuded a menacing presence as the corrupt physician Yoshioka Dogen in Toshu with Broken Umbrella Villain Hunting (Jan 27 1976) and as the corrupt constable Jinjuro Akazawa in Whirlwind of Edo II (June 24 1976, directed by Yoshiki Onoda).

In the Meiji-era drama Ronin of the Wasteland, starring Toshiro Mifune (Sept 15. 1976), he played Taketo Yamakawa, a Choshu-faction samurai shot dead by Go Wakabayashi. In the final episode of Hidden Eyes - which also featured Mifune alongside Toru Emori - he played Shuzen Hattori, a man plotting his lord's assassination with the help of a henchman played by Hideyo Amamoto. In New Zatoichi, he appeared as the yakuza boss Denbei of Shikagawa (Feb 7 1977). Other roles included appearances in Detective Stories of Denshichi (July 19, 1977), Falcons of Edo (March 28, 1978 as the Chief Censor Hara), Whirlpool of Edo (July 6, 1978) and Oedo Investigation Network (Feb 7 1979 as a Junior Councilor) - the latter being a rare merchant role, though the character was a corrupt magistrate.

He gave a fine performance as the sinister Tenmaya in Falcons of Edo IV (April 20, 1975). In Mito Komon, he played a virtuous senior retainer who is cut down almost immediately after appearing (Aug 14, 1978). In Fangs of Edo, he played the ultimate villain in the final episode; commanding a henchman played by Rinichi Yamamoto, he was spectacularly cut down by Mifune, delivering a memorable final line: "You are nothing but beasts"...

He also appeared in Teruhiko Saigo's A Tough Man, playing Yoshizumi - a department manager at a regional trading company - with a touch of earnest humor (appearing in four episodes; Oct 5, 12, 19 and 26, 1975). In another drama by writer Shigeo Hanato, Hanaborou, he played the father-in-law of Yoko Shimada's character, a man who meets an untimely death (appearing in two episodes, Jan 5 and 12, 1976). Appeared twice in Toshiba Sunday Theater. In Tobidashi (May 23 1976), his role was a doctor; the character watches over the budding romance between Keiko Sekine and Ryu Manatsu. His next appearance was in Snow Waltz, where his role wad the male lead opposite Mitsuko Kusabue. Both productions were made by regional stations.

He was a semi-regular in Matsuo Kayo's Judgement (1978), playing a judge. He also held a semi-regular role as a police chief, appearing in at least seven episodes. Hideki Takahashi appeared as a guest star in this rather melodramatic suspense series (April 1, 1977). Other credits include Ken Utsui's Rose Strait and Momoe Yamaguchi's Red Shock, in which he appeared [in four or more scenes] as the stoic JAL captain flying Momoe.

For NHK, he appeared as Kiyoshi Miyazaki, president of Mitsui & Co., in After the War: Dismantling the Zaibatsu (July 28, 1977). Subsequently, he took on roles in documentary-style productions, such as the Director of the Minister's Secretariat at the Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry in NHK Special: The Day of Zero Imported Food (March 23, 1978) and a role in Saturday Drama: Shimoyama Incident (July 11, 1978). He also appeared in the historical drama Burning Grass, playing the Kamakura-aligned court noble Ichijo Yoshiyasu (appearing in three or four episodes). He played the role of Futaro Shiwa-Butsu in Blood Relatives (based on the novel by Hitomi Yamaguchi and starring Keiju Kobayashi).

He made guest appearances in Kumiko Oba's Comet-san and Yukio Aoshima's Mean Old Lady. He played a company president in [...] Star Dash Number 1 (starring Ikue Sakakibara and Yoshimi Iwasaki). He played the king of a certain nation in Monkey (starring Masaaki Sakai and Masako Natsume) and [appeared in the second season]. In the nighttime melodrama When a Woman Turns Around (starring Yoko Yamamoto), he was a regular, playing the ex-husband; a weak-willed man who did whatever his father (played by Yoshi Kato) told him to do (1977). In Yoshiko Mita’s Unforgettable Days (1979), he played a managing director pursuing Mita’s husband (Takao Inoue), who had vanished with company secrets and committed suicide by jumping from the office building in the final episode.

In the four-part spring 1979 series Wide Labyrinth, he played a managing director who is promoted to company president following the death of the incumbent (a fictional event). He also played a "parachuted" executive in So Kuramoto’s Shadows of Sand (where he portrayed an effeminate personnel manager) and appeared in Oryu-san, Fujiko Yamamoto’s ...Nani ga?, the role of Ishiguro (a gentleman back from France) in Mitsuko Mori’s Why? First Love South Wind, and Jinpachi Nezu’s Lovers, all in 1980.

In 1981, his roles included an advertising manager for a lingerie company in Yukiyo Toju’s Rainbow Forest, an advertising manager for a watch company in Ryoko Nakano’s Cheers to the Bad Wives of Japan!, and a pastor in Kaori Momoi’s Downtown Story. Then came the 1983 Yumie Hiraiwa drama series Lake Festival.

For some reason, nothing comes to mind regarding 1982.

At some point, he also made two or three appearances in a show called Kanasaka.

Next were the long-form dramas on commercial networks; he likely had a fair amount of work here, but since I kept no notes, I cannot be certain of the details. In 1983, he played Mashita Nagamori, one of the Five Commissioners, in TV Asahi’s New Year’s drama Sekigahara. In the Kaimaku Wide Theater slot, he played university professor Ryokichi Takigawa (showing off his mountaineering skills) in [The Mystery of the Broken Rope] (originally aired Jan 27, 1979). In Full Moon Murder Case and Don't Lay A Hand on the Bride (aired Feb 24, 1979, and June 27, 1981, respectively), he gave a powerful performance as an eccentric publishing company president with Koji Tsuruta as his chief subordinate; Aiko Morishita played his wife.

Then, in Serial Killer Torima, he played an investigation section chief; and in a police drama starring Tatsuya Mihashi and Kanako Higuchi, he played a criminal, featuring a memorable scene where he meets secretly with Kyoko Enami. In Finger of the Earth, he played an ambitious university professor, and in Wilderness of Youth (aired Jan. 2, 1978), he took on the role of a Diet member who shares a bed scene with Kiwako Taichi.

For Nippon TV’s Tuesday Suspense, a crime drama series featuring stars like Koji Tsuruta and Yuko Natori, he played an investigation section chief. In TBS’s Saturday Suspense, he appeared as a superior officer in two installments of the series starring the late Shinsuke Minami as a detective. He also appeared in TV Tokyo’s New Year’s 12-hour historical dramas, such as After That, Musashi (playing Matsudaira Izu-no-kami) and Isoroku Yamamoto. Oh yes, he also had a regular role as a vice-principal in a youth-oriented drama from the past starring Yosuke Natsuki or Raita Ryu (airing Sunday nights at 8:00 on Nippon TV). Then there was an action series - I can't recall the exact title - featuring a theme song by Dick Mine; in it, he played a Diet member who gets betrayed and eliminated by Ko Nishimura. Reiko Niwa played his only daughter.

I believe he appeared as the president of a public corporation in the first season of The Hangman, and later became a regular in New Hangman. Shingo Yamashiro, who appeared as a regular in that show, also ended his career playing a comic relief role, as everyone knows. His gaunt cheeks in his later years were a painful sight.

Moving on to non-drama appearances: first and foremost, there was Pittashi Kan-Kan. Along with the Godzilla boom, this program contributed significantly to reshaping the public image of Akihiko Hirata and garnering him renewed appreciation. He appeared on the show nearly a hundred times between 1975 and 1979, and even served as host as a substitute for Hiroshi Kume. He also displayed his brilliant answering skills on Quiz Derby (August 28, 1976) and appeared several times on Association Game. On Thanks for the Meal, he famously prepared "French toast à la Yoshiko." Then there was Tetsuko's Room, where he appeared several times with his wife. He also appeared on Let's Meet at Three, specifically the "Reunion" segment, and Guess It Right on March 10, 1979, as well as Saegusa's Roaring Laughter Salon on Saturday mornings. He also appeared on programs hosted by Fujiko Yamamoto; specifically, Fashionable and You at Three o'Clock on the same day: September 18, 1978. He even introduced Nordic cuisine from Shibuya on the show Cooking Heaven (March 20, 1976). In 1983, as part of the "Godzilla Revival Festival" campaign, he appeared on Wide Wide Fuji and even NHK’s NC9, where he expounded on the true nature of Godzilla. I also recall him appearing on Morning Jumbo Madam to promote the release of Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla.

There was that memorable joint appearance with Beat Takeshi and Tamori, as well as his roles on We are the Funny People and Today is the Best.

(Note) He provided the Japanese dubbing for the villain in the Columbo episode "A Friend in Deed" [How to Dial a Murder]. Akihiko Hirata was by no means an ordinary actor; rather, he possessed a personality that was perhaps too distinctive. His work surely served as a rebuke to the fools (in his family and elsewhere) who branded him as "nondescript."

Editor's Note

A year has gone by since the passing of Akihiko Hirata. During this time, there have been (at least to my knowledge) no publications or magazine articles commemorating [his achievements]; this deeply regrettable fact has surely left and indelible mark on the minds of those who truly cared for him. Of course, it may be too much to expect good sense from the stubborn and narrow-minded world of journalism; after all, they are merely the vanguard of mass manipulation. Yet, even the wisest of sages never forgets a betrayal. It is to strike a blow against this silence that I present Volume 2 of Nekotei Newsletter to the world. While it is a profound honor to compile this memorial issue for the deeply admired Hirata, I cannot help but regret that, inevitably, given my own laziness and lack of ability, the result is nothing more than a crude little booklet.⁵ I would be happy if it could, at the very least, quench some of the thirst felt by those who loved Hirata so dearly.

Furthermore, fully aware that it may be presumptuous, I humbly dedicate this publication to the late Akihiko Hirata. I received the cooperation of many people in compiling this issue, and I am deeply grateful to them all. I spoke with Ishiro Honda on April 21st, the day before the recording sessions for his film Ran began, he kindly made time for me despite it being such a rare day off [for him]. I am deeply apologetic for constantly making such unreasonable demands of him.

I also received immeasurable assistance from [Motohide] Katayama, a friend of Hirata's for over a decade, who contributed two articles and let me program booklets from stage productions in which Hirata had appeared; this publication would not have been possible without him. Finally, I asked Kazuhiro Hanayama to handle the design and the lettering for the section titles; I would like to make special mention of the fact that, since we could not use a photograph for the cover this time, he created original lettering for it as well. I would also like to take this opportunity to thank Tatsu Mori, who handled the photomechanical processing despite his busy schedule; Nobutaka Suzuki, who assisted with some of the proofreading, and Ichiro Omata, who helped prepare the camera-ready copy.

While compiling the list of films in which Hirata appeared, I was struck by the sheer number of works I had not yet seen. For instance, I have resigned myself to the fact that I will likely never truly appreciate the full measure of Gertrude Lawrence's talent. Yet, Hirata was a magnificent screen actor; in seeking out the films I have yet to watch, it is still possible to catch glimpses of his artistry as a performer; facets of his talent that remain little known. Though [he] has ascended to the heavens, the radiance in his eyes as they appear on the silver screen will never fade. (July 15, 1985)

_____

Footnotes:

1) The specific word Honda uses here is "sewanin" which means sponsor, mediator, caretaker, that sort of thing.

2) I do not know what this means in this context. Writing a letter to a fifth-grader including a phrase in French might be singularly the most Akihiko Hirata thing I have ever heard.

3) Ten made agare [天まであがれ]. This one is weird - he himself confirms he was in the show, but I can find literally no evidence for it whatsoever.

4) My list says 33 episodes, but one of us may be wrong.

5) Editor, that "crude little booklet" currently resides in my house with candles around it.