by Ruby Comer

Will Motomura

The latest statistics point toward a rise in HIV infection in the twenty-something population.” That was the word from my CDC contact in Atlanta when I phoned him up. This alarming news stays with me the following day as I attend the L.A. Asian Pacific Film Festival. I am thunderstruck by a short film I see: Stranded. With all the ingenuity and sensitivity its writer/director reveals in the film, I know I have to meet him. Then when I find out that he is twenty-something, my pursuit accelerates. Finally, I spot him in a crowd of people, introduce myself, and drag him off to a little Japanese restaurant around the corner.

Will Motomura, twenty-six, was raised in the San Francisco Bay area. He was, and is, a fanatic film-goer. His desire to become a professional filmmaker was spawned during his teen years when his parents gave him a Christmas gift—a video camera. The death of his father inspired him to pen the screenplay for Stranded, his thesis project at USC.

After wrapping the filming early last year, the School of Cinema awarded him an MFA in Film and Television Production. Stranded, which follows the experiences of two Japanese-American soldiers in France near the end of World War II, is currently available on DVD. Since graduation, Will has interned for director Wolfgang Peterson’s production company, and for Paramount.

On this sunny summer evening, we sit outdoors on wicker chairs amidst fiery tiki torches. As we munch on veggie tempura and sip miso soup, Will offers me another cup of sake.

Ruby Comer: Oh, Will, no thanks—I’ve already had two cups! How did your film Stranded come about?

Will Motomura: When I was nineteen, during my second year in college, my father died of colon cancer. I was so distressed—I wanted to connect with him somehow. He was my role model, and when I was a kid, he always talked about the 100th Battalion and the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, but I never really listened. It was my father who suggested that I make a film about my Japanese-American ancestry [Will’s mother is German].

Indeed, and what a fine accomplishment. How did you handle your dad’s death?

At first, it was a shock [he says in his gentle voice]. Later I came to the resolution that I needed to accept his death and move on, or it would ruin my life. I began to appreciate the time I had had with him.

Good for you. I found, for me, that losing someone is like a scar. It will never leave you but in time it gets better. Were you taught HIV prevention back in high school?

I went to Catholic high school….We did have sex ed, but I don’t remember the teacher ever pulling out a condom.

[With one raised eyebrow, and shooting Will an eagle eye] Do you play safe, Will?

Yeah, of course. Always.

Merveilleux! [The pinkish sunset glows on our table’s surface.] Will, what does AIDS mean to you?

Gee, that’s a hard one to answer. Growing up, AIDS seemed like a scare tactic to keep us kids in check. But as I matured, I understood that AIDS was a real problem, and I was surrounded by its victims—whether I knew them personally or not. These days, I almost feel that AIDS has been pushed to the sidelines. Forgotten. [He finishes his sake.] I prefer to think of AIDS in the most practical of terms. It’s a disease, a horrible disease. We’re all at risk. It’s simply outrageous to demonize or vilify its victims. Where is our compassion?!

Ruby Comer is an independent journalist from the Midwest who is happy to call Hollywood her home away from home. Reach her by e-mail at MsRubyComer@aol.com.

 

July 2005