"Touching lines" are found in quirky movies. Kenji Yamauchi, a master of dialogue drama, looks back on the scenes.

Even before I started working as a playwright, I was influenced by many films. Compared to theatre, films, which incorporate visual direction and editing, are a form of expression in which elements other than dialogue have a greater impact on the work as a whole. For this reason, I have never intended to focus solely on the dialogue, but in the end, the works that stay with me are always those with interesting dialogue.

Especially as a writer of the same story, I find that words that feel skillful, that stand out in the work, and that exude the writer's desire to write those lines make a stronger impression and slowly sink into my heart, rather than simply beautiful words.

The first thing that comes to mind when thinking of "touching lines" is a witty line from a romance movie. The most famous example is (1) from the final scene of "An Affair," which has influenced subsequent romance movies.

From the works of Woody Allen, a master of dialogue drama, I'd like to introduce (2). The famous line from "Hannah and Her Sisters" is, "The heart is a very elastic muscle," but my favorite is this one. The protagonist Hannah's husband falls in love with his sister-in-law, and he gives her a collection of E.E. Cummings' poetry and tries to woo her with the line (2), which is actually based on a line from Chekhov's play "The Seagull." I really like the way it has multiple layers of plot twists.

Quentin Tarantino is also a dialogue actor. I sympathize with the fact that he writes lines not to move the story forward, but to pursue the entertainment value of each scene. In "Jackie Brown," light-hearted dialogue continues throughout, but in the final scene, line (3) appears. Unusually for Tarantino's work, this line, which tenderly expresses the emotions of adult love, has a unique presence. Lines (4) and (5) also stand out in the flow of the story.

"Blue is the Warmest Color," a film about the love affair between two women, Adele and Emma, is shockingly realistic, with endless scenes of sex and fights. The audience, having witnessed the entire relationship, knows that Adele often cries. This is why the film is so convincing (7). I was thrilled to see how meticulous depictions can be convincing in terms of realism.

When I normally approach a script, I start with the conversations I want to write, and then build on them to expand the plot. Therefore, even as a viewer, I tend to be drawn to lines that make me feel like, "That's what the writer wanted to write." I'm particularly struck by lines that express criticism of society.

One example is (6) from The Illusion of Freedom. These words, spoken by a man sitting on a sofa and facing the symmetrically arranged fireplace in front of him, are a satire of authoritarian aesthetics. (7) is equally striking, as is his satire of Hollywood.

Finally, a curveball: (8) is a passage from a conversation between four men and women at a sports bar. It's so ridiculous that you might wonder, "Why would they bother telling this story here?" (laughs), but the "feeling of writing it however they like" is fascinating. A film by a director who puts effort into making the conversation itself compelling is one you'll want to watch again and again.