Departures (2008) is one of those rare films that hits you twice: once in the gut with its story, and once in the eyes with its restraint. Yojiro Takita’s Oscar-winning drama makes me want to stop “working” and just feel. It follows Daigo, a failed cellist who ends up back in his rural hometown performing nokanshi the ritualized cleaning and “encoffinment” of the dead. It’s a job defined by stigma, but the film transforms it into something of immense dignity.

This isn’t just a “pretty” movie. It’s an exercise in empathy.

About the Cinematographer

Takeshi Hamada is the eye behind this film, and honestly, his work here is a lesson in ego-less cinematography. He isn’t trying to win awards with impossible long takes or flashy lighting. Instead, he focuses on observation. He lets the characters breathe. In a film about death, it would have been easy to go dark and moody, but Hamada chooses a path of “deliberate quietness.” He treats the camera like a respectful guest in the room, especially during the funeral rites. It’s a collaborative effort with Takita that feels less like a production and more like a captured reality.

Color Grading Approach

Let’s look at this through a colorist’s lens. The first thing you notice is that the palette isn’t depressing. That’s a trap most filmmakers fall into when the subject is grief. Instead, there’s a persistent, gentle warmth in the midtones it feels like a hug.

The highlight roll-off is where the magic happens. In the digital age, we’re so used to seeing highlights clip or feel “plastic.” In Departures, the white funeral shrouds have a glow that feels almost divine. We’re talking about a very sophisticated tonal curve here; the blacks aren’t crushed into oblivion. There’s detail in the shadows, which keeps the image from feeling heavy or overly stylized. The skin tones are kept incredibly natural, which is a massive technical challenge when you’re dealing with the pale, desaturated skin of the deceased versus the warm, living skin of the family members. It’s a grade that supports the narrative without ever shouting for attention.

Technical Aspects & Tools

We have to remember this was 2008. We were right at the tail end of the 35mm era for prestige dramas before digital took over. You can see that organic texture. The film was likely shot on a stock like Kodak Vision3, which explains that beautiful, wide dynamic range and the way it handles those soft, natural greens of the Japanese countryside.

By 2008, the industry had moved into Digital Intermediate (DI) workflows, giving Hamada and his colorist the precision to sculpt those highlights while keeping the filmic grain intact. They used high-quality spherical primes nothing too distorted or “vintage” to keep the image clean and honest. The tools here disappear because they were chosen for their transparency, not their “look.”

Lighting Style

The lighting is so naturalistic it’s actually intimidating. Achieving “invisible” lighting is a nightmare in post; if the exposure isn’t dead-on, soft window light can quickly become a muddy mess. Hamada relies heavily on soft, diffused window light. It gives Daigo’s home a lived-in warmth.

When we get to the nokanshi ceremonies, the lighting is respectful. There are no harsh, unforgiving shadows. It’s ambient and soft, illuminating the deceased with a quality that makes the skin appear life-like rather than stark. Even in the sadder moments, there’s usually a “warm” source somewhere a lamp, a sunset that prevents the film from feeling bleak. It’s about nuance.

Camera Movements

In Departures, the camera moves only when it has something to say. We aren’t seeing aggressive handheld work here. Instead, you get measured dollies and slow, deliberate pans.

When Daigo is performing the ritual, the camera often just… sits there. It’s a silent observer. This stillness is more powerful than any crane shot could be. When movement does happen like a gentle push-in on Daigo’s face as he realizes the weight of his new job it feels earned. It’s a dance between observer and participant, always purposeful, never flashy.

Compositional Choices

Hamada uses framing to tell us exactly how Daigo feels before he even opens his mouth. Early on, Daigo is often framed against massive, empty spaces. That negative space screams “lonely.”

But as the film progresses and he finds his footing, the compositions become more balanced and architectural. In the funeral scenes, the layering is incredible. You’ll have Daigo in the foreground, the deceased in the midground, and the grieving family in the background all in one frame. It creates a physical connection between the living and the dead. It’s not just a shot; it’s a story about the human condition.

Lensing and Blocking

The blocking in this film is remarkably intentional. In the ritual scenes, the positioning of Daigo and his boss, Mr. Sasaki, is almost mathematical. They keep a respectful distance, yet their movements are synchronized. The camera tracks these shifts, making the physical space between characters feel like an emotional bridge.

For lensing, they stuck with a very human perspective. Wider lenses capture the sprawling, sometimes isolating beauty of the rural landscape, while longer focal lengths are saved for the intimate moments. When the camera moves in close on Daigo’s cello or his hands during a ceremony, the compression makes you feel the texture of the moment. It’s never intrusive; it’s just close enough to care.

Inspiration Behind the Cinematography

You can’t shoot a film like this without a deep well of empathy. I imagine the conversations on set were all about dignity. The inspiration clearly draws from traditional Japanese aesthetics simplicity, harmony, and a respect for nature.

The contrast is the key. You have the “cold” bustle of Daigo’s city life as a cellist versus the “warm,” albeit quiet, reality of his hometown. The cinematography turns something that society sees as “unappealing” (dealing with death) and makes it beautiful. It draws from the same meditative quality you’d find in a woodblock print or a tea ceremony. It’s about acknowledging grief while keeping a warm light on the hori

• Also read: BLACK CAT, WHITE CAT (1998) – CINEMATOGRAPHY ANALYSIS
• Also read: WINTER SLEEP (2014) – CINEMATOGRAPHY ANALYSIS