• フロントライン (Frontline)

6/14/25 (Sat)

This film grabbed my interest immediately when I learned it was about the ill-fated Diamond Princess cruise ship. This was the ship that docked in Yokohama Harbor in February 2020 when a Hong Kong man was found suffering from an unknown coronavirus, which soon spread rapidly through the ship and ignited worldwide panic. I was fixated with the incident at the time and remember having arguments with foreign friends who bashed Japan for keeping all passengers and crew quarantined on the ship rather than bring them into the country for treatment. While we felt sorry for the 3,700 victims, no one here was keen on allowing those infected with or exposed to an unknown communicative disease to come into the country and put 120 million at risk. As a result, the quarantine, for better or worse, made the ship a virtual Petri dish among people of varying age, racial and ethnic groups, giving us a good picture of how the virus behaved. In the end, no more than 14 people (if that many) died from the virus, 2% of confirmed cases, all of whom other than the initial Hong Kong victim were in their 70s and 80s. That suggested that the virus, which was already known as Covid, wasn’t nearly as deadly as feared. An objective accounting of that fact could have changed the entire trajectory of the global crisis. But the hysteria, amplified by the media, took its own course.

A 2021 documentary called The Last Cruise looked at the incident from the viewpoint of several passengers and crew members, highlighting the different treatment allotted to high-end paying passengers and low-end workers. The Japanese film focuses instead on the response of the medical team sent to deal with the crisis. Lacking a dedicated group like America’s CDC, Japan turned instead to its volunteer-led Disaster Medical Assistance Team (DMAT), which existed to respond to natural disasters and had no experience or expertise in the field of viruses. The film shows how these unprepared doctors improvised in the face of significant bureaucratic resistance, sensationalist media coverage, and considerable concern among medical personnel themselves, who were understandably worried about their own safety and the welfare of their families. In addition, the DMAT coordinators had to deal with the bureaucracy, which is always a horror story on its own in Japan. Naturally no one in the government wanted to take responsibility (a word that pops up frequently) in the case of failure, resisting unconventional actions that might flout the rules despite the unprecedented situation. The story was fictionalized, of course, but at least that part sounds all too real to me.

Meanwhile, aside from the medical procedures themselves, the movie highlights the human side as doctors and the ship’s hard-working crew dealt with terrified passengers frustrated by a lack of information and language issues. They rescue one woman from attempted suicide for having suggested the trip to her now-dying husband, are screamed at and ordered around by others, and do their best to keep people fed, calm and informed. We had no idea at the time what was going on behind the scenes on this ship, and for all the criticism directed at Japan’s response, it’s helpful to remember that these are human beings – brave human beings, at that – who were trying to do their best in a highly uncertain and dangerous environment.

The film also shows the role of the media in fanning the flames, though the script stops short of any deep criticism. It does show the infectious disease doctor, inspired by the infamous real-life Dr. Iwata, who, after a brief visit to the ship, posted a video online decrying the medical team for getting everything wrong. By the time he deleted that two days later, the damage was done, leading to defections among the team and widespread public discontent with Japan’s efforts. Still, the doctors were there to save lives, and they continued to push ahead.

After desperately asking hospitals to take the infected patients, the team ultimately finds a newly built facility in Aichi Prefecture that is willing to accept them. They are escorted off the ship and transported by police escort to the facility, where the drama ends. The volunteer doctors are finally allowed to go home and pick up again where they left off.

The film lapses into sentimentality at times, especially the English-language sequences (“Darling, I’m so sorry I insisted on making you take me on this cruise!” (12-year-old reunited with his little brother) “Jack, I missed you so much!” – they really needed a better writer/translator). That wasn’t helped by the unfortunate choice of foreign performers, who badly need acting lessons. The movie is clearly aimed strictly at a domestic audience, which is a shame since the ship plays such a large part in the global Covid story and carries key lessons for any future pandemic. It probably works better for those who don’t understand English. Japanese directors are notorious for relying on local talent when they need foreigners for the story rather than seeking out real actors, which really limits the appeal of their films internationally. Good luck with this one.

While there’s not a lot of shading in the characters as written, the Japanese cast was superb all around, with special kudos to an extremely poised Kubozuka Yosuke and especially Ikematsu Sosuke as a young father whose child suffers bullying and expulsion from school due to the dad’s work among infectious patients. The direction by Sekine Kosai is workmanlike. He has a great scene early on when the camera pulls slowly back from the ship, showing its immense size and hinting at the scale of the crisis to come. There’s little otherwise to match that, but he gets the job done efficiently. I’m glad he ditched the masks so that we could tell who was who and appreciate the acting; a note at the film’s end reassures us that this was only for dramatic purposes. I wish real life had been like that.

The numerous long meetings and debates could have been trimmed, and the many text messages shown on screen should have been conveyed in action; couldn’t the passengers, for instance, have thanked the staff directly rather than write plodding e-mails that must be read to us? The dialogue among the doctors and bureaucrats is generally fine, but the talk with and among the passengers was drippy.

All in all, a conventional drama focused largely on the domestic market. Still, it’s a good reminder of how much we owe to those invisible people taking the risks on our behalf (I suppose that goes for war movies as well). We take a lot of this for granted, and it’s good to see these efforts acknowledged here. As noted, the true lessons of the Diamond Princess, including the low risk profile for the vast majority of the public, still don’t seem to be recognized, which is a shame. But at least the courage of the doctors and staff, who were so derided at the time, is finally recognized. And that’s no small thing.