Abe Hiroshi Reminisces on a Lifetime of Career-Defining Roles

On the eve of being presented with the Asia Film Awards Academy’s Excellence in Asian Cinema Award, actor Abe Hiroshi reminisces on the lifetime of roles that got him to where he is today.

It’s an ephemeral thing, that of movie-star quality. But whatever it is and however arbitrarily it’s defined, Abe Hiroshi has it, and has it in droves. It’s a fact palpable from the moment I step across the threshold of the hotel room where we’re slated to speak, as Abe stands, dramatically alone and in thought, by the bank of windows at the end of the suite … like a scene out of a movie.

He’s staring out at a city he hasn’t returned to in more than 30 years. And in the three decades since he last set foot on this side of the East China Sea, he’s transformed from a slip of an actor performing alongside Gloria Yip in the Hong Kong martial-arts fantasy Saga of the Phoenix into a venerable veteran of the industry. Tomorrow, he’ll be the recipient of the Asia Film Awards Academy’s Excellence in Asian Cinema accolade; among those similarly honoured are South Korean Lee Byung-hun; Abe’s Jigyaku no Uta co-star Miki Nakatani; and, certainly not least of all, newly Oscar- sweeping, history-affirming superstar-extraordinaire Michelle Yeoh.

So, how’s he feeling?

“Very honoured,” he says, defaulting to humility despite all the at-moment reasons to be quite boastful. Abe, who admits to being surprised at the award that’s to be bestowed on him the following evening, received the news exactly where he wanted to be. “I was so happy and grateful to have my crew by my side, who’ve been with me all these years,” he says, “so I could share it with everyone.”

It’s almost impossible now to imagine a world in which the actor wasn’t yet a commonplace fixture on celluloid, but before Abe the movie star, Abe was a magazine model, fronting the male syndicate of the Japanese fashion-lifestyle glossy Non-no for its first consecutive 43 – 43! – issues. And before static camera shots and static catalogue poses, Abe dreamed of pastures profusely green. “I’d wondered, ‘What skills or abilities do I possess that could allow me to experience the world?’” he says. “Once I started as an actor, I realised acting was my secret weapon.”

Yet, despite the face, the countenance and the seemingly instinctive aptitude for performance, this bygone leap into acting was far from smooth sailing. First, Abe, standing at a commanding 188cm – already impressive, but even more so among his fellow Japanese – was too tall to comfortably fit into regular two-shots. And if he were to be cast, he’d be typecast as window dressing or, as local media would deem, a “handsome vase”. All that changed, however, in 1993, after his turn as the complex, bisexual police officer in the stage play Atami Murder, a role he still cites as one that inspires him to this day.

“I didn’t really know how to play it,” he says. “I just tried to follow the direction of the playwright. And before I stepped on stage on opening night, I was so nervous, I didn’t know what to expect. But once I performed, everything changed. People were so happy, and the reviews were great. I realised then there were so many possibilities to being an actor.”

In the years since, he’s been a time- travelling Roman architect, a disbelieving physicist, detectives, a resentful son, a Japanese Yakuza boss, an interior designer who can’t get married and, once, even, foe to yet another towering Japanese legend … Godzilla. There doesn’t seem to be a role Abe, whose iMDB credentials are an endless 138-entries scroll, isn’t willing to at least try on for size. “Film characters are easy,” he admits. “I’m pickier with the stage, since the process takes so much longer. If I don’t pick a character that feels more challenging, I’ll tire of the performance very quickly.”

And it’s entirely evident the extent to which acting still fascinates Abe, the very secret weapon that’s not only allowed him to experience the world, as he has once dreamed, but has allowed him to live lives – so many of them – through so many varying iterations of what it might mean to be human. Even if it means putting on a silly costume.

He’s trained underwater diligently for his role as captain in the DCU: Deep Crime Unit series. He’s learned how to drum specifically for his most recent release, Offbeat Cops, despite professing to having little talent for musical instruments. (He now enjoys drumming but hasn’t had the chance to practice recently. He’ll resume, he says, once he finds a studio.) And, asked about a character he’d like to revisit, Abe, ever the consummate professional, doesn’t respond with a customary anecdote drenched with warm-toned, rose-tinted nostalgia the light-hearted query might have prompted from another actor. Rather, he’s quick to self-chastise.

“I played a 19th century Russian intellectual in Coast of Utopia,” he remembers of the 10-hour-long stage production. “It ended successfully, but there was a huge amount of dialogue and since the preparation period was so short, I felt like I didn’t understand it deeply enough. If there’s ever another chance, I’d like to play the role again, spending more time on preparation and deepening my understanding.

“And I also think of the Thai film Chocolate, directed by Prachaya Pinkaew,” Abe adds about his once-projects that got away. “Actually, we were planning to shoot a sequel in Japan, but the Tohoku Earthquake occurred, so it wasn’t made. So, if I have the opportunity, I’d like to do that.”

An innate, almost reverent respect for the craft has sheltered Abe from, like so many of his ilk, trading front-of-camera roles to behind-the-scenes direction. “No plans to at the moment,” he says without much fanfare when asked of a possible director transition. There are too many stories left untold. “I’ve noticed a lot of recent Japanese films that delve deep into the darkness of the human psyche,” he says, duly picking out the ceremony’s emotive, at-times devastating Best Picture Drive My Car as a recent favourite. “I’d love to try a role like that.”

There’s no trying, really, for Abe, whose illustrious body of work has made it so he can most probably have his pick of projects, wherever, whenever and with whomever. But rather than the typical Scorsese-Tarantino-Nolan response you might expect from a seasoned veteran who’s yet to work with said titans of the industry, Abe has his eyes set adamantly on the future. For the newly minted recipient of Asia Film Awards Academy’s Excellence in Asian Cinema Award, the lush, verdant pastures he once fantasised about have long been lush, verdant reality. Where do you go once you’ve achieved your dreams? Helping others achieve their green pastures, Abe supposes.

“There’s been an influx of new, talented directors and producers in Japan,” he says, revealing his soft spot for writer-director hybrids. “As someone who’s been in the industry for a long time, I think there are a lot of newcomers that might not think to approach me. I’m excited to try new things. So, please, get in touch.”

A man of his word, tomorrow’s Excellence in Asian Cinema Award recipient has left an email address on his still-monitored website for you to do just that.

The information in this article is accurate as of the date of publication.

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