About the film

Tokyo, September 2001. Haruhiro Shiratori, restaurateur, learns the worst: Atsushi, his only child, is dead. The ambitious son who left to make his fortune in New York will never come back.  On the morning of September 11, Atsushi was working on the 104th floor of one of the World Trade Center towers.

In the wake of this tragedy, many withdrew into their grief. Others talked of revenge. But Haruhiro Shiratori wanted to give meaning to his son’s death. He decided to go to Afghanistan and try to prevent  such attacks from happening again. This idealistic quest — one destined to encounter any number of obstacles, — began with an unusual step: Haruhiro started to learn magic tricks.

With a flourish of the hand, he makes scarves disappear before the amazed eyes of onlookers — whether young or old, Afghan, Japanese or Americans. Magic becomes a secret weapon, as this 21st century Don Quixote pursues his quest, negotiating his way around the language barrier.

In 2003 Shiratori travels to Afghanistan for the first time, accompanied by director Philippe Baylaucq, who will record Haruhiro’s mission of peace for several years and across three continents. Shiratori’s idea is to build a park in commemoration of his son on a hill overlooking Kabul. The plans are drawn up by one of Japan’s greatest architects, Kishô Kurokawa, who graciously offers his services for free. They include areas where people can assemble, as well as a school, a water reservoir and a garden of 911 Sakura cherry trees. In short, a place where the cultures of Japan and Afghanistan can meet.

To realize this dream in the heart of a battered city, Haruhiro Shiratori travels throughout Japan and the U.S., talking to school kids about his son’s death and the deprivations of Afghan children. He remembers his own wartorn childhood: as a 4-year-old he witnessed the 1945 bombing of Tokyo. Looking at the children of Kabul, he sees himself, a child in a bombed-out city after the Japanese army was defeated. The memory still haunts him. We sense a need for reparation and redemption in his actions as he summons all his strength and moves forward. For the sake of the destitute child he was — and for his only son to whom he was a distant imperfect parent — Shiratori preaches, persuades and relentlessly fund-raises.

The film is skillfully cut, its subtlety mirroring the complexity of Shiratori’s motives, as it follows him to his native Tokyo, where he fine-tunes his project and raises funds for construction; and then to New York, where he meets the friends of his lost, misunderstood son; and on to Kabul, the Afghan capital, where he encounters Kafkaesque administrative obstacles.

Each time his visits Kabul, he delights in meeting the same children again, but he also realizes there’s a chasm between his  dream and reality. The country is short of everything, prey to terrorist attacks and victim of a ragged bureaucracy. Shiratori’s ambitious project requires infinite patience and unshakeable faith.

Yet Haruhiro Shiratori is determined. It’s not just love for his lost son that drives him on but his hope for the future of humanity and harmony between nations. Are these the fanciful imaginings of an over-confident magician? Certainly, his quest is reminiscent of all Western interventions in Afghanistan, packed with good intentions and booby-trapped at every step of the way. But one thing is certain:the world needs magic more than ever, and Haruhiro Shiratori is fiercely determined to provide it.