TOKYO — Here’s something you don’t see every day in Tokyo. Last week, Tom Cruise, his wife Katie Holmes and their daughter Suri turned up in Hibiya Park after having lunch at a sushi restaurant. While Suri, who turns 3 in April, played with Japanese children, Cruise chatted with their startled moms. Afterwards, the 46-year-old star took his family to a baseball game.

Cruise loves Japan and the Japanese certainly love him. After being mobbed at Narita airport, he and his family were flown to Roppongi by helicopter. Following countless interviews and walking the red carpet at the Japan premiere of his latest film, “Valkyrie,” Cruise took a chartered flight, the “Sky Cruise,” from Haneda to Osaka with 40 fans selected from 3,000 applications. “It’s exciting to be here with my family for the first time,” said Cruise, fulfilling a promise he made when he was last here, in 2006. The total cost of his visit reportedly cost promoters 200 million yen.

Japan is the last stop on Cruise’s worldwide tour to promote “Valkyrie.” Directed by Bryan Singer, it tells the true story of a plot by senior German officers to assassinate Adolf Hitler in the summer of 1944. Cruise, sporting an eye patch, plays Col Claus von Stauffenberg, one of the chief conspirators.

“I didn’t know this story,” admitted Cruise. “When I first read about it, I was fascinated. It has action and suspense, but it is really about how a man is called upon to make sacrifices in extreme circumstances. As an American, I never learned about World War II history from that perspective. I hate the Nazis but I never realized that there were Germans within that world, who were against the Nazis and who were willing to try and end the atrocities. Maintaining one’s integrity against great odds is a timeless theme.”

Cruise said that as a father, he could identify with the decision that Stauffenberg chose to make. “Fortunately for me, I don’t have to make such choices, but as a parent, we have to look at how our actions will affect the world our children live in. Stauffenberg couldn’t even discuss what he was planning with his wife and children.”

Not knowing much about the protagonist, Cruise said he read numerous biographies and was astounded at the man’s life. “He was in hospital with shrapnel in his back and had lost his eye, yet he never took painkillers. Everything I learned about him told me that he loved his family and country. For him, the Nazis were the antithesis of what he wanted for Germany and the world.” Wearing an eye patch was cool, he added. “I always wanted to wear one since I saw John Wayne in ‘True Grit,’” he joked.

Making a movie about the plot entailed an extra challenge since we know that the assassination attempt failed. “When I make movies, first and foremost, I want to entertain audiences,” Cruise said. “Even though the outcome is known, this story works as a conspiracy thriller set during World War II. When I made movies like ‘Mission: Impossible,’ ‘Minority Report’ and ‘War of the Worlds,’ we had to sit down and come up with drama and suspense. With this, we just had to pick up the history books. Bryan and I sneaked into a early preview for an audience. I was ready to take notes, wondering if they would get what we were trying to communicate. It was great when the audience stopped moving. Nobody left the cinema and at the end, there was a standing ovation.”

The biggest reception was in Berlin where the world premiere was held. “I‘ve been to Berlin several times,” said Cruise. “I went rowing on the lake at Wannsee one afternoon, and got to thinking that this is where so many atrocities originated and wondered how they could have happened in such a beautiful and cultural city.”

At first, the city authorities had been reluctant to let the film be made on location, but finally agreed. There was also early talk that some Germans objected to Cruise being cast as Stauffenberg. However, Cruise said he was embraced by the family. “They all came to the premiere. I signed at least 60 posters for Stauffenberg’s nieces, nephews and grandchildren. It’s a big family. I was in London one day and two of his grandnieces came up to me on the street. They’re everywhere.”

Despite the serious subject matter, Cruise said that everyone had fun on the set. “Usually, the more intense a scene is, the more laughter there is afterwards. I work very hard on each scene and I expect a lot from everyone else too because I want to give audiences the best possible movie. During the shoot, we went camping in the desert and got to fly the old warplanes.”

Cruise said that he has been to many countries to promote “Valkyrie,” meeting people and learning about their cultures, lifestyles and concerns. “For modern audiences, I hope the message of this World War II story will be that next time, everyone will stand up to tyranny and it won’t happen again.”

During his 4-day visit to Japan, Cruise took time out to appear on the “SMAPxSMAP” TV program and dined on tuna and Kobe beef, prepared by the boys. Looking ahead to his next project, Cruise said he has started working on a script for “Mission: Impossible 4.”

“Valkyrie” opens in Japan on March 20.

Brother Industries Ltd will release the "Brother Document Viewer SV-100B," an information terminal equipped with an electronic paper module, in Japan June 1, 2009.

The company highlights the product's ability to "allow users to carry around information equivalent to 10,000 sheets of A4-size documents."

Brother expects the product to be used to display manuals for field maintenance services and by home-visit nurses, layers and tax accountants, who carry a large amount of documents. As the product is basically targeted at corporate users, there is no suggested retail price. But it will be sold at ¥139,800 (approx US$1,423) through Brother's direct shopping Website.

The SV-100B is 15.5mm thick and weighs about 600g. Document data is stored in a 2-Gbyte microSD card. Its battery can run the terminal for about 83 hours (which corresponds to roughly 5,000 pages if displayed content is replaced at one-minute intervals).

It features a 9.7-inch electronic paper module with a resolution of 1,200 x 825 pixels. The black-and-white display shows four shades of gray. It takes less than a second to replace displayed content, according to Brother Industries. E Ink Corp's electronic paper is employed.

Document data can be transmitted to the terminal in a way similar to using a printer. First, users install the included printer driver on a PC. And, when they connect the terminal to the PC via a USB port and "print" the desired document on the PC (almost the same operation to actually print the document), the data is transferred to the terminal.

The dedicated printer driver converts data into a proprietary format that can be displayed on the terminal. Hence, users can transmit documents from any application as long as they are printable.

As differences from Amazon.com Inc's electronic book, "Kindle," and other existing electronic paper terminals, Brother cited the larger screen size of the electronic paper, the longer battery life and so forth. The electronic paper's screen size, 9.7-inch, is almost as large as A5 size. Furthermore, when the display orientation is rotated by 90°, the document's width becomes almost equal to that of A4 size. These features contribute to a better visibility of documents, the company said.

To extend the battery life, Brother limited the product's functions to simple ones. So, it is not equipped with communication capabilities or a touch panel, which are seen in other companies' products.

TOKYO — Many companies require job applicants to do some sort of test before they are offered a job. Ever wondered what a hotel chef has to do to get the job? Nadine Waechter Moreno, currently chef de cuisine at the New York Grill & Bar at the Park Hyatt Tokyo in Shinjuku was certainly up to the task.

“I went to Hong Kong for the interview last year and had to prepare a five-course meal,” she says, sitting down in the 52nd-floor restaurant after the end of the lunch service. “I made a vichyssoise with truffles, ravioli with rabbit and parmesan sauce, some beef with braised potatoes and vegetable garnishes and a few other dishes. That was the first time I had to do that. I tried to cook my style of food but didn’t want to go crazy because I knew the Hyatt philosophy. That’s how I got the job.”

Born in Switzerland, Moreno, 30, says she always wanted to do something creative. “At first, I thought I might be a graphic designer but that involved computers too much. I started to get interested in cooking whenever I went to spend the holidays with my grandmother. I think my main inspiration came from her.”

Moreno spent three years from 1996-1998 doing her professional chef apprenticeship at the Hotel Schweizerhof in Lucerne. After spending another two years at Swiss hotels, she worked at the Ritz-Carlton in Naples, Florida, for two years. Then she went back to Switzerland and France for a few years, followed by three years at two resorts in Australia. She landed the Park Hyatt job last July.

“To be honest, I didn’t know much about the New York Grill & Bar, but I did know the Park Hyatt from the movie Lost in Translation,” she says. “I was definitely impressed when I walked in. I wouldn’t say there was much of a culture shock; maybe a little language shock.”

Describing her food philosophy, Moreno says, “I concentrate on using simple ingredients, flavors and presentation. I am very open-minded and want my chefs to use their own creativity and give me ideas. For me, learning Asian cooking—which is not my roots—is very exciting. I like to be creative, take a simple dish and do something special to it. For example, I introduced lobster quesadillas with avocado and tomato salsa to the menu here and it is doing very well.”

Other Moreno touches to the menu include Japanese beef tatar with crispy free range egg, mizuna and truffle coulis; lemongrass cured sakura masu (salmon) with sesame seed mayonnaise and vegetable salad; coconut prawns with verveine shellfish sauce, vanilla risotto and broad beans; foie gras with coffee jus, carrot hazelnut sauce and green pea puree. She tries to use local ingredients as much as possible. “Fortunately, I have a great team of motivated sous-chefs who have a lot of passion for what they are doing and they know all the best local ingredients and where to get them.”

The lunch and dinner course menus are changed once a month, while the a la carte menus are changed every three months. The challenge for Moreno has been learning what will and won’t work on the menu. “There are a lot of things I do differently here. For example, in Europe, chicken breasts are always used. I wanted to put that on the lunch menu but my sous-chefs told me that Japanese prefer chicken legs.”

Moreno’s favorite cooking utensil, which has been with her for many years, is a mini-spatula. “I still have my knives from my apprenticeship. They are nearly 12 years old, but don’t cut very well anymore.”

Like most chefs, Moreno is happiest in the kitchen but she is happy to interact with diners. “If guests are excited about food and want to talk, of course, I’ll come out. I’ve noticed that Japanese customers like to talk to chefs. When you see a full restaurant … that is very satisfying to a chef.”

Moreno usually starts her day around 10 a.m. (she and her Mexican husband live a 10-minute walk away from the hotel). “I check emails and the lunch menu and we start lunch at 11:30. Around 3, we have our meeting and discuss new recipes before the dinner service starts at 5:30 p.m. I’m usually her until about 11.”

On her days off, she likes to take it easy. “When you are standing up all day, you don’t want to run around playing sports. I haven’t had time to get out of Tokyo yet.” She says she doesn’t do a lot of cooking at home. “I cook for myself here everyday, so my husband and I prefer to eat out. It’s fun to just walk around exploring the neighborhood for those small Japanese restaurants that are often run by an elderly couple. I find the way everything is presented in Japanese restaurants so amazing. I have never seen anything like it.”

And would she be ever seen in a fast-food restaurant? “Well, my husband might have a McDonald’s. I just sit and watch him eat,” she says with a smile. “But don’t think that chefs just like fancy foods. There are times when I enjoy a sandwich or simple pasta. As long as it is done with love and with good flavor, I enjoy simple foods, even something as humble as fish and chips.”

New York Grill & Bar is located on the 52 Fl, Park Hyatt Tokyo, 3-7-1-2 Nishi-Shinjuku, Shinjuku-ku. Tel: 03-5322-1234. Open daily 11:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m., 5:30 p.m.-10:30 p.m. www.tokyo.park.hyatt.com.

http://tokyo.park.hyatt.com/hyatt/hotels/index.jsp

Today, it appears that Japan is increasingly looking inward and walling itself off from outside influences — a trend that’s showing up in everything from movies to music to learning languages. Even as the supposedly irresistible tide of globalization washes against Japan’s shores, insular and parochial attitudes are strengthening.

“When I was a university student, courses like English literature, German literature, French literature and foreign languages were difficult to get into, they were so popular,” said Takashi Koyama, a professor at Akita International University. “Nowadays, those courses are struggling to get students.”

Last year, Japan celebrated the 150th anniversary of its reopening to the outside world, persuaded by American gunships to end two centuries of self-imposed isolation.

Japan has traditionally been a curious mix of closed-mindedness and the enthusiastic absorption of outside influences. In the century and a half since signing that treaty with the United States, this “country of contradictions” has struggled in its relationships with all things foreign.

The trend was certainly on display at this year’s Academy Awards ceremony.

The event was the most successful in Japanese cinematic history, landing two gongs, including the first ever full Oscar for a non-animated movie. But even as Japan bathed in the glory of Hollywood approval, pundits and politicians were lining up to explain how the victory by “Okuribito” (Departures) in the foreign language film category reflected the “unique Japanese concept of death.”

The success of “Departures” is part of a renaissance in Japanese films that has coincided with a loss of interest in Hollywood productions. As recently as 2000, imported movies outsold Japanese productions by more than two to one. In 2007, Japanese films took the majority of the box office total for the first time in more than 20 years, and last year, only three overseas films managed to break the top 10.

“Younger Japanese audiences don’t connect so strongly with Hollywood films recently,” said Yusuke Horiuchi of Toho-Towa, which distributes overseas films in Japan.

The increasing market share of domestic movies can be at least partly explained by a recent bump in the quality of Japanese film.

It’s difficult to make the same case for the local music industry. J-pop is still dominated by saccharine acts manufactured by a small number of talent agencies and hit factories here, and yet they too are outselling international artists like never before. The last few years have seen a steady decline in sales of overseas bands with Japanese artists cornering 81% of the market in 2008.

The causes of this increase in parochialism are somewhat hard to identify. A sense of cultural pride, particularly among young people, has certainly developed regarding the popularity of Japanese manga, music and fashion, across Asia, and around the world. The “hungry spirit” that drove Japan’s development from post-war decimation to economic superpower, has inevitably faded, and with it, the notion that interaction with the outside world is a necessity rather than a wish. “As Japan has become more prosperous, fewer people are taking the trouble to learn foreign languages,” Koyama said.

The current global slowdown has been brutal to Japan’s export-driven economy. Whether this reliance on foreign economies emphasizes to Japan the interdependence of today’s planet, or whether the nature of this “imported crisis” increases resentment at the world beyond its borders, remains to be seen.

But whatever its roots, some are worried a rise in nationalist sentiment is mirroring this loss of interest in foreign languages and foreign affairs. “The decline in the English ability of Japanese people also means that people are becoming isolated information-wise,” Koyama said. “Even some of our young diplomats can’t really function in English properly, which means they can’t get information from abroad. It’s a dangerous trend.”

At Akita International University, Koyama teaches all of his classes purely in English. One of the principal aims of the university, founded only five years ago, is to raise the standard of English among young Japanese.

The ministry of education is concerned that the English ability of the Japanese population is slipping behind that of its Asian neighbors, such as Korea and China. So it’s introducing language classes in public elementary schools, though on an ad hoc basis, often using students’ mothers as volunteer instructors.

Indeed, this year’s Academy Awards were also memorable for the very limited English in the two directors’ acceptance speeches — in fact, the younger filmmaker appeared even less comfortable in English than his compatriot, more than two decades his senior.

Kunio Kato did manage to raise a lot of laughter with his halting 40-word acceptance speech for the best animated short, even being hailed as the, “Best Oscar Speech Ever.”

Some observers in Japan however, no longer see creeping isolationism in a globalized 21st century as a laughing matter.

TOKYO — They are rough, hairy forest barbarians who hunt deer and catch salmon with primitive tools. They speak an alien tongue that no one even knows how to write. When one of their women get married, they make them tattoo their lips.

Though extreme, this is the view many “pure” Japanese hold of their cousins to the north — the Ainu. Japan’s native peoples may have once conformed to this stereotype, but don’t be surprised if one of your colleagues, neighbors — or even the besuited, clean-shaven gent lining up every morning for the 8:39 express to Shibuya — is of Ainu descent.

The majority of Ainu remain in Hokkaido — a 2006 government survey put their numbers on Japan’s northern island at 23,782 — and estimates in greater Tokyo range from 2,500 to 10,000. The true figure, however, could be much higher, as many Ainu lack the self-assurance to acknowledge their identity.

“The thing that hurt most about being Ainu was the self-loathing — I was negative about myself and thought I was ugly,” says Mina Sakai, the leader of the Ainu Rebels, a dynamic music ensemble of young Ainu performers.

Sakai, 26, was born in Obihiro, Hokkaido, to a Japanese mother and Ainu father. She says it took many years to come to terms with her identity and deal with the discrimination she faced in her hometown.

“There was strong prejudice against Ainu, especially in Obihiro, and I hid the fact that I was Ainu,” she tells an interviewer at the Ainu Culture Center, located a few blocks from Tokyo Station. “For example, when I went shopping, people accused me of shoplifting. Whenever I got into an argument with someone and they called me ‘Ainu,’ I wasn’t able to say anything back.”

While Sakai believes the situation has improved, she tells of a friend in Hokkaido who was turned down for a job because the interviewer took a dislike to her appearance. Ainu tend to be strongly built, taller then the average Japanese, with Caucasian features and more pronounced facial and body hair. Such discrimination has also been known to nip burgeoning young love in the bud. Indeed, as Sakai’s elder brother, Atsushi, also a Rebel, raps in one song: “One day my girlfriend told me over the phone, ‘Ainu people are creepy.’”

Despite having experienced discrimination due to her mixed parentage, Sakai embraces her Ainu identity. She likens the Japanese majority’s view of native peoples to the situation in the United States.

“Black people are seen as blacks. Even ‘halves,’ such as Tiger Woods, are seen as black,” she says. Sakai talks of two encounters — both of which occurred overseas — that emboldened her sense of Ainu identity.

“I visited a group of indigenous people on a high school trip to Canada,” she says. “They and their songs were cool and left a deep impression. They had such positive energy. This was when I realized I had a choice… I could be like them, there’s no shame in being an Ainu.”

The second encounter was in 2003, when she met her husband, Lonnie, a half-Chinese American born and raised in Japan, on an exchange tour to Australia that involved a Kanto Ainu group and Australian aborigines.

“When I met Lonnie, he told me that I was fine just as I was,” Sakai says. “This freed me from any negative feelings I had.”

When the pair wed in Tokyo in April 2005, Sakai used black lipstick to recreate the traditional Ainu mouth tattoo — her way of reclaiming a sense of Ainu beauty and tradition that had been outlawed by the Japanese government.

Ainu culture established around 12 or 13th century

It is believed that Ainu culture was established across Hokkaido, then known as Ezo, around the 12th or 13th century. The Ainu were hunter-gatherers who had their way of life decimated by the gradual migration of Wajin, as “mainland” Japanese were known. According to a government census, the number of Ainu in Hokkaido dropped from 26,256 in 1807 to 16,272 in 1873. It’s easy to figure out why.

When the Tokugawa shogunate took control of Ezo in the mid-1850s, the government attempted to pacify the Ainu by offering them trade and protection while assimilating them into the larger Japanese culture. The Ainu were forced to change their hairstyles and clothes, were banned from wearing earrings and tattoos, and were prohibited from religious customs such as performing the ceremony to return the spirits of bears — sacred in the Ainu religion — to the world of the kamuy (gods). Many Ainu were forced to work, essentially as slaves, for Wajin, resulting in the breakup of families and the introduction of smallpox, measles, cholera and tuberculosis into their community.

In 1869, the new Meiji government renamed Ezo as Hokkaido and unilaterally incorporated it into Japan. It banned the Ainu language, took Ainu land away, and prohibited salmon fishing and deer hunting. The enactment of the ironically named Hokkaido Former Aborigine Protection Law in 1899 removed even more land and further impoverished the Ainu.

In the first decades of the 20th century, some Ainu started to take a stand against the Wajin by calling for independence. Over the next half-century, various projects to redress disparities and preserve Ainu culture improved the lives of Japan’s indigenous peoples.

Despite these gains, Ainu continued to suffer from a prevailing ignorance. In 1986, Prime Minister Yasuhiro Nakasone infamously remarked, “Japan is a racially homogenous nation, and there is no discrimination against ethnic minorities with Japanese citizenship.” This comment infuriated and politicized many Ainu. In 1994, an activist named Shigeru Kayano became the first Ainu to win a seat in the Diet. Kayano pushed Ainu issues — even posing parliamentary questions in his native language — leading to the enactment of a law promoting aboriginal culture.

In September 2007, the UN General Assembly passed the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, prompting the government, which feared international criticism ahead of the G-8 summit in Hokkaido last July, to pass a resolution recognizing the Ainu as an indigenous people of Japan.

To coincide with the gathering of political leaders, Sakai helped organize the Indigenous Peoples’ Summit in Ainu Mosir 2008, an event attended by aborigines from around the world. In addition to celebrating traditional culture with music and dance, the proceedings had a serious side. Participants demanded the government grant the Ainu rights of self-determination and control over natural resources. They also called for educational improvements, including the adoption of the Ainu tongue as an official language of Japan and the creation of history textbooks from Ainu perspectives. Most significantly, they demanded a formal apology for past wrongs.

But is the message getting across to the politicians in Nagatacho?

Hiroshi Imazu is a lower house lawmaker from the ruling Liberal Democratic Party who led a bipartisan group to draft the resolution recognizing the Ainu. Yet despite his pro-aborigine stance, he rejects out of hand the notion of an apology.

“Japan’s situation is different to that of Australia or America,” Imazu told Metropolis in an interview at his Diet office. “I don’t think an apology is necessary and I think the Diet resolution is enough to show our feelings [toward the Ainu people].”

Survives through music and dance

Ainu culture lives most vibrantly through its music and dance. Epic yukar deity songs are performed at religious ceremonies and have been passed down from generation to generation. Unique Ainu musical instruments include the tonkori, a zither with five strings made from a species of nettle, or whale, deer or reindeer tendons, and the mukkuri, a type of Jew’s harp. Ainu dance can be playful or spiritual, and is usually only performed by women.

Sakai and her brother helped found the Ainu Rebels in the summer of 2006 to have some fun studying their native culture, but the band evolved into a performance group fusing traditional song and dance with rock and hip-hop.

While some elders disapprove of the Rebels, accusing them of debasing traditional culture, most are supportive, seeing, as Sakai does, how they are not just keeping the culture alive, but taking it to a new audience.

“It’d be a bit dull if it was just traditional music, but we get through to young people by playing club events,” she says.

Other well-known Ainu artists include Oki, a tonkori player who leads the psychedic-tinged Dub Ainu Band, and the Ainu Art Project, a network of dancers, singers and storytellers that was a precursor to the Ainu Rebels.

The Rebels themselves have until now concentrated on live shows, but a CD is in the pipeline for release later this year. Almost all of their songs are in Ainu, with Japanese only used to rap their message home.

“Make an Ainu movie for us! Please document our voices for future generations!”

This plea from Shizue Ukaji, a huci, or female Ainu elder, got the reels spinning for “Tokyo Ainu,” a documentary set for release in early 2010. The movie is directed by Hiroshi Moriya, a former TBS documentary maker who has produced films on indigenous peoples in such far-flung locales as Siberia and the Amazon. Made without narration, the film lets the vivacious Ainu of Tokyo tell of their own travails and aspirations. English subtitles are planned in the hope that the movie might generate interest on the overseas film festival circuit.

A highlight of the film is the Charanke Matsuri, a celebration of Okinawan and Ainu music, dance and culture held every November in Nakano. The festival is organized by the Ainu Utari Renraku-kai, one of several Ainu communities in Tokyo, a group centered on the Rera Cise restaurant.

Maoki Sato, head of the film’s production committee, hopes the movie will increase awareness among Wajin that Ainu are living among them. He also points to a lost way of life.

“Ainu have a different culture and civilization to Wajin,” Sato said. “They get what they need from nature and share it among the community, giving to the old and needy.”

The undoubted star of the film, however, is an Ainu elder whose only need is to preserve the traditions of his people in these modern times.

Haruzo Urakawa, 70, is a bull of a man who has worked the fields since he was out of diapers. Brought up on a Hokkaido farm, Urakawa, the younger brother of Ukaji, has held, among other roles, the chairmanship of the Kanto Utari Association. Such is his status in the Ainu community that the film was originally going to be titled Haruzo, an Ainu.

The assiduous Urakawa (pictured below left) has singlehandedly constructed three cise — traditional Ainu homes with thatched roofs—in the Kanto region. He leveled the land to build his third such home, dubbed Kamuy Mintara (“Playground of the Gods”), as a venue for Ainu cultural exchange in Kimitsu, Chiba Prefecture.

Kamuy Mintara is a place of peace, bedecked with deerskin rugs, wooden effigies of bears, salmon-skin shoes, inau prayer wands, and mounted deer and pheasant — all symbolizing the Ainu’s sustainable, spiritually focused coexistence with nature.

“So much could be lost if I didn’t do what I’m doing,” Urakawa says. “I hope that people will come to stay at Kamuy Mintara to help out with the facility and the land.”

With his long wispy beard and hands as big as a bear’s paws, Urakawa, who still wrestles in sumo tournaments, could almost be the bear god that stands guard out front.

This doyen of the Ainu people stubbornly refuses to fit into a society in which he sees much wrong. Like Sakai, he too is a bit of a rebel.