We were lucky to catch up with Joe Akira recently and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Joe , thanks for joining us today. It’s always helpful to hear about times when someone’s had to take a risk – how did they think through the decision, why did they take the risk, and what ended up happening. We’d love to hear about a risk you’ve taken.
Last year marked a pivotal moment for me as I took on the monumental risk of writing, directing, producing, and starring in a deeply personal short film. This endeavor wasn’t just a financial gamble, funded entirely out of my own pocket, but also an emotional and spiritual leap into the unknown, with the potential to define or derail my path.
This short film is me, a risk in itself. The journey shaped me tremendously and helped me gain the confidence to know that my path is right. I may pivot in the future, but for the foreseeable future, this is my path. The path of a filmmaker, and I’m all in.
This journey started last year in March after I was hired as an Assistant Director on a short film being shot on a beautiful ranch in Lompoc, California. The ranch owner, Sandi Bailey, was such a beautiful soul, and she told me this anecdote about one of her “adopted” daughters being Japanese. Sandi’s eyes glistened with love and excitement as she spoke about Hiroko and how they still talk once a month. It was clear that Lompoc was shielded from outsiders and that very few, if any, Asian persons lived there or even visited. But here Sandi was talking about how she would defend Hiroko when the other “dickhead” cowboys would try to poke fun at her. I loved this. Sandi let me into this beautiful idea that we are all human and that cultures can come together instead of clashing. Hearing this and being on this beautiful location, creating this amazing film, inspired me to take the precarious leap into the narrative world of filmmaking.
I decided then and there that the story I wanted to write would be a beautiful one that shows how love can bring two differing cultures together. When I got home, I reflected on the events in my life that have shaped me tremendously.
A memory from fifth grade came back to me when we were learning about World War II, and Pearl Harbor came up. After hearing about the kamikaze fighter pilots, a Filipino boy stood up and pointed directly at me, “Joe’s a dirty Jap. We should kick him out of class.” Maybe I’m making up the “dirty” part, but I remember being singled out for being Japanese. I sank in my seat and begged my mom to stop making me bentos for lunch. I started getting meal tickets like the rest of my classmates and strayed further away from my beautiful and prestigious heritage.
I then realized that while most other Asian Americans I knew were very much rooted in their community, I was not. However, I did have a very mixed group of friends growing up as a skateboarder in Los Angeles. This, mixed with being raised by a single mom, really shaped who I am.
Fast forward a month or two, and I found myself at the Japanese American National Museum standing in front of the reconstructed barracks from Heart Mountain, one of the nine confinement camps of World War II. There was a lock on the outside of the door, and I foolishly laughed to myself, thinking, “what a silly architect. The lock should be on the inside.” Then it instantly dawned on me that this lock was meant to keep people in, not out. I sat down for what felt like an hour until some other visitors entered the space. I left knowing the setting and time period my film was going to be set around.
I spent the next year talking to Japanese Americans of all generations and walks of life, reading books, watching films, and immersing myself in the Japanese American community through volunteer work. All of these experiences helped me get through a hard year of personal loss, lack of financing, and multiple rewrites of my script.
But in February of this year, I shot my short film with a crew and cast of thirty-three people on the private baseball field where I grew up playing Little League baseball. I think the biggest risk of this production was the immense financial burden, but if just one audience member Googles the Japanese American experience after watching my film, then it will all be worth it. I will have done my job as a filmmaker.
As the film progresses through post-production, I continue to learn invaluable lessons about filmmaking and self-discovery. This journey has illuminated my strengths and weaknesses as a creator and as a person, reaffirming my belief in the power of tenacity and empathy.
Above all, this endeavor has taught me the importance of taking risks and believing in oneself, even when the odds seem insurmountable. It’s a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the transformative power of storytelling. So, to anyone hesitating on the brink of their own leap of faith, remember: the first step is often the hardest, but it’s also the most liberating. Take a risk on yourself because, for 99% of us, no one will take that first big risk on you. You must do that yourself to prove to the world that you have it in you. Things will fall into place afterward.
Tune in to see how this all turns out for me, but this risk has already paid off in full with all the new friendships, wisdom, and growth that I have gained. Cheers.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
Hello, I’m Joe Akira, a first-generation Japanese American director, actor, and photojournalist. Growing up as a rowdy, rebellious skateboarder on the streets of Los Angeles, I would have insisted I was just an American director, actor, and photojournalist. However, it’s only been in the past two years that I’ve truly accepted who I am and embraced being unapologetically Joe once again. I might sound a bit cocky, but I believe I reflect the best of Japan and America, most of the time, haha.
Anyway, I was a very shy kid until Sixth Grade when I met my friend Michael Perry, who took me under his wing and introduced me to the “popular crowd” at Dodson Middle School. It didn’t take long for me to become quite confident once I realized how good-looking I was and how people tended to gravitate towards me. This was especially true after I won the Most Popular award in my eighth-grade yearbook and became a sponsored skateboarder in high school. However, a series of events eventually led me to ostracize myself from that popular crowd, culminating in a skateboard injury that required back surgery and crushed my dreams of becoming a professional skateboarder.
The following years were an eye-opening experience, forcing me to ask: who is Joe Akira, and who am I meant to become? I was no longer the very cocky, confident kid of my adolescence, and it showed. Though I felt lost and lacked true confidence, I needed to travel down that path to reach where I am today.
After a year or two of post-op partying, a late friend, Ramiro Escalera, inspired me to become a photojournalist and transfer from community college to a university. Somehow, UCLA saw potential in this kid who had graduated high school with a 2.4 GPA and then community college with a 3.5 GPA.
Fast forward to after graduation, I started working (now part-time) for Deloitte as an Operations Consultant. A month or two into this first real job, my childhood friend Grant Duncan, a highly sought-after cinematographer, asked me to audition for a role in a short film about three coming-of-age skateboarders. Grant knew, from my days as a sponsored skater, that I was drawn to the limelight, but he didn’t know that acting had always been a secret dream of mine. I showed up after work in a suit, which made the director cringe. I quickly changed into a Hawaiian shirt and board shorts, then hucked a nollie kickflip. The director relaxed and ended up casting me after an hour of talking and skating. Soon after, Covid hit, but in August 2020, we shot the short film, and I was hooked on filmmaking.
As many actors know, landing gigs is not as easy as one might think, even with charm and a smile. Instead of giving up on acting, I decided to start directing. Boy, did I not know what I was getting myself into.
I reached out to a talented musical friend with whom I had drunkenly discussed filming a music video back in college. We self-funded and shot a duplex music video for two of his songs, with the immense help of Grant. I must take a moment to thank Grant Duncan, a genius of a man to whom I owe my entire filmmaking career. Thank you, buddy.
After that, I directed and produced a documentary for another friend who is a fashion designer. From there, word spread, and I began directing/producing music videos, commercials, and various projects. I have consistently been directing and producing since 2021. Just FYI, if you direct low-budget productions, you will inevitably end up producing them as well. My biggest productions have ranged from $20-28K, which is still considered low budget.
While I continued acting in music videos, commercials, and short films, it was only this past year that my acting started to blossom. Practice makes perfect, right? Earlier this year, I booked a role playing a Japanese American incarcerated in the camps of World War II. Interestingly, for the year prior, I had been working on a short film I wrote, set around the resettlement of Japanese Americans in Los Angeles post-World War II. Coincidence? I think not.
Now, through patience, hard work, and determination, things seem to be happening for me as a filmmaker. I have a music video premiering at the Los Angeles Asian American Pacific Film Festival next month, and I have a premiere for my biggest acting role thus far at the end of this month. My short film, once finished, will surely be the talk of the town for its inspiring story and beautiful cinematography by the incredibly talented Nicky Rudolph.
If you take anything from what I’ve said here, it should be that there are a million paths to where you want to go. Be patient, empathetic, and adaptable, and the right path will reveal itself to you.
Are there any books, videos or other content that you feel have meaningfully impacted your thinking?
Three books have profoundly shaped my personal and creative journey: “The Book of Five Rings” by Miyamoto Musashi, “Meditations” by Marcus Aurelius, and “Breathe” by Rickson Gracie. Each has imparted invaluable lessons that resonate deeply within me, but all of these books really taught me about manifestation. In their own way, each book gives a glimpse into the law of attraction.
These books inspired me to manifest my dreams. There isn’t a bone in my body that doesn’t believe that I will have that one big break as an actor and, in turn, as a director. The big question I struggled with for so long was what I was to do until then. After reading these books, I have been able to answer that question. I am working on myself to become the most ultimate version of myself. Therefore, I practice martial arts, read, volunteer in my local community and the Japanese American community, on top of working and creating smaller productions. All this helps my mind, body, heart, and soul grow. This will all contribute to manifesting my goals. Manifesting isn’t just about wanting and vocalizing; it’s about putting in the work to make yourself worthy of your dreams, and in doing so, manifestation will naturally happen. Get out there and get after it.
What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?
The most fulfilling aspect of being creative is the ability to forge connections rooted in love with others. Each production I’ve spearheaded has helped me grow as an individual because of the wonderful, passionate people I’ve met along the way. People are what fuel my journey to becoming greater than my current self.
In my most recent short film, “Sandi’s Story,” I explore the resettlement of Japanese Americans in Los Angeles in 1948, offering a unique perspective through the lens of a white college freshman who falls in love with a Japanese American.
“Sandi’s Story” transformed from a narrative of condemnation to one celebrating resilience and optimism in the face of adversity. Frankie Ito, Sandi’s boyfriend in the film, embodies the spirit of the Nisei generation, overcoming personal tragedies with unwavering hope for the future. His ability to forgive and look toward a brighter tomorrow sends a powerful message of resilience and perseverance, convincing Sandi to let go of her anger towards her father and embrace the future.
The character of Sandi mirrors my own journey a year ago as I delved into researching Japanese American history. Initially consumed by anger at past injustices, my perspective dramatically shifted upon meeting Nisei individuals who had experienced internment firsthand. Their wisdom taught me the importance of embracing the present and shaping a hopeful future. Our conversations often centered on their present experiences, which was a profound eye-opener and made the final version of my script genuine and heartfelt.
I extend my heartfelt gratitude to all those who have crossed my path on this transformative journey. Your presence has enriched my heart and nourished my soul, instilling in me a profound sense of solidarity and a commitment to effecting positive change for all humanity, regardless of differences in race, religion, or gender. Thank you for listening to my TED Talk.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.acianofilms.com/
- Instagram: @asianjo
- Other: email: [email protected] IMDB: https://www.imdb.com/name/nm12229971/
Image Credits
Grant Duncan, Nicky Rudolph, Jon Higley, Jason Wada, Ronald Vasquez, Vick Medina