The dichotomy of being a blend of two cultures can be a difficult one, especially when you’re young. Living somewhere, being absorbed and influenced by what’s around you while still attempting to honor your roots is something that can’t always be done well, and with the casual cruelty and sharpness of youth, it can be nearly impossible. That blend and the conflicts that can arrive because of it are at the heart of Amarela, a film that’s major theme is the challenge of of being a stranger at times in the land you call home, even if it’s not the homeland of your ancestors.
It’s 1998. Brazil and France are meeting in the finals of the World Cup, what is likely the biggest sporting event the South American country will have in a long time. Despite it not being on Brazilian turf, there are very few not tuning into the game and cheering on their country in the championship for the world’s most popular sport. That included Erica Oguihara (Melissa Uehara), a Japanese-Brazilian girl living inside the Brazilian borders. Despite her Japanese heritage, her Brazilian roots run deep, as does her support for the team representing the country in which she resides. Proudly supporting Brazil, Erica cheers on her team, reveling in the camaraderie of her peers. That is, until Brazil loses, and her otherness is put on full display by native Brazilians who feel as though their support, and thus their heartbreak for the loss, are more important than Erica’s because she’s Japanese. This leads to a massive conflict, the confrontation getting physical and bringing emotional harm to Erica as she attempts to weather the storm of being good enough when things are good, but nowhere near enough when things are tough, her differences put into the spotlight.
Writer/Director Andre Hayato Saito is very familiar with this concept, being a Japanese-Brazilian himself, with this film being the final in a trilogy of films that touches on the themes of this dual culture. The first fictional entry of the trilogy, the film still brings the reality of what Saito and so many others dealt with in their youth, and still deal with today when they are engaged in the culture of the land they call home now while still attempting to embrace, or sometimes distance themselves, from the roots of their history. It’s a challenging but gorgeously told film that should feel familiar for anyone of mixed heritage or culture, and while it focuses on the specifics of being Japanese-Brazilian, should still hit home for anyone of mixed cultures.
The cast is excellent, with Uehara leading the way in the biggest role and absolutely nailing it. The emotional whiplash, the feelings of otherness and being on the receiving end of judgement, it’s all apparent in every frame. Saito truly made the right decision with her casting, and it shows up in every aspect of her performance.
While the direct cultural issues at hand in the film aren’t familiar, the feelings they can induce certainly are for so many, leading this to be an emotionally resonant film that so many people should identify with. Saito did an excellent job of really diving in deep to this time period, to these feelings, and to the concept in itself, with the cast and crew really coming through to help bring it into reality.
That’s all from us! Be sure to be on the lookout for more news, reviews and interviews from the best of the best in short films! As a bonus, we’re happy to welcome Andre Hayato Saito for a quick interview about Amarela, and we’re so grateful for the opportunity. Thanks to Andre for the time, and thanks to all of you for reading. Please enjoy the interview, and we’ll see you next time!
What inspired you to make this film?
The film was born from a very personal place. I wanted to revisit a moment that felt “deeply Brazilian” – the 1998 World Cup final – but through an intimate and conflicted experience. Growing up as a Japanese-Brazilian teenager, I often felt too Japanese to be Brazilian, and too Brazilian to be Japanese, constantly navigating that in-between space while searching for a sense of belonging.
At the same time, I felt an urgency to create images where people of Asian ancestry in Brazil could exist with complexity, tenderness and contradiction, far from stereotypes. Making this film became a way of giving shape to experiences that had stayed unspoken for a long time, and of transforming personal memory into something that resonates more broadly.
What was the casting process like, given how specific the character of Erika was?
Casting Erika was a long and careful process. We were looking for someone who could carry a lot internally, someone able to express tension, vulnerability and a desire for belonging through very subtle gestures.
Choosing Melissa was intuitive. From our first meetings, she brought a presence that combined delicacy, strength, and resilience, and a rare capacity to hold silence while revealing multiple emotional layers. It was also an aesthetic and political choice: placing at the center a body that moves away from hegemonic beauty standards, acknowledging the many forms of oppression that shape this experience beyond racism and xenophobia.
And there was another challenge: the film is set in 1998, a time before TikTok, selfies, and the hyper-awareness of image that many young people have today. We needed someone who could inhabit that earlier world with naturalness, without the layers of self-curation that are so common now, and Melissa brought exactly that.
This film takes place during a very specific moment in Brazilian history. How personal is that time period for you?
It’s extremely personal. I was the same age as Erika in 1998, and football was, for me, an unconscious tool for belonging. During the World Cup, Brazil feels united in a rare and intense way, and I remember wanting to be part of that collective celebration, while also feeling outside of it.
That contradiction was already present in my daily life. Inside my home, where Japanese traditions were very strong, I often felt that those codes didn’t fully belong to me. And outside, I was constantly perceived as something I didn’t fully identify with.
This tension, between public euphoria and private displacement, between how you see yourself and how the world insists on seeing you, is at the heart of the film.
This is the third film in a series about your Japanese-Brazilian roots. How important is it to show both your heritage and the culture of where you grew up?
I’m interested in the space in between – how traditions are carried, transformed, and sometimes distorted when they travel across geography and generations. Japanese and Brazilian cultures are contrasting in many ways, and navigating that tension has shaped who I am. My Japanese
heritage is inseparable from the Brazilian context in which I grew up, and the two constantly reshape one another.
Understanding my ancestry has been a way of understanding my place in the world, a process that happened naturally as I began to revisit my roots that had long been denied. And showing the Brazil I grew up in is equally important: it reveals how plural Brazilian identity truly is, far beyond the narrow images we are used to seeing.
Rather than presenting culture as something fixed, I’m drawn to how it is lived daily, through family dynamics, gestures, expectations and contradictions. That’s where these two cultures meet, collide, and open space for stories shaped by this in-between perspective.
What are you working on next?
We’re in the pre-production of my first feature film, Yellow Chrysanthemum, a script I’ve been working on for six years and that we are set to shoot this year. It’s incredibly exciting, a long-time dream, and it feels like the culmination of this journey of revisiting my ancestry.
While Amarela focuses on identity and belonging, the feature expands these themes by placing grief at its center – exploring how loss and death are felt and expressed through both Brazilian and Japanese perspectives. Yellow Chrysanthemum allows me to deepen this investigation on a larger canvas, with more emotional breath and nuance. So yes, fingers crossed, see you in the cinemas soon!
