Sheep in the Box Review: Hirokazu Kore-eda Explores Human-AI Co-Existence in a Grief Drama Lacking Emotional Depth

Hirokazu Kore-eda’s latest film, Sheep in the Box (Hako no naka no hitsuji), premiered at the Cannes Film Festival, where it garnered attention for its exploration of grief and the implications of advanced robotics in human life. The narrative centers on grieving parents who attempt to alleviate their sorrow by embracing a humanoid replica of their deceased son. While Kore-eda is known for his warmth and humanistic storytelling, this film struggles to deliver a satisfying emotional experience.

Themes of Grief and Family Dynamics

Kore-eda has consistently focused on family dynamics in his films, often highlighting the resilience of children. In Sheep in the Box, this theme is echoed through a robot that evolves beyond its creators, mirroring the natural progression of human children seeking independence. However, the film’s thematic threads lack depth and emotional weight, making it feel insubstantial, especially given its lengthy runtime of over two hours.

A Unique Setting and Premise

The film opens with a delivery drone, a whimsical touch that sets the stage for a near-future scenario. The drone lands at the home of architect Otone Komoto, played by Haruka Ayase, who designed a modernist house with her husband Kensuke, portrayed by Daigo. The couple’s grief is palpable, particularly as a framed photo of their seven-year-old son, Kakeru, serves as a constant reminder of their loss.

A heart-shaped package delivered to their home contains a hologram of a luna moth, the logo of a company named REbirth, which specializes in creating generative AI replicas of deceased loved ones. The Komotos had been approached by a representative at their son’s funeral and are now eligible for a promotional trial.

The Decision to Embrace AI

Otone is intrigued by the idea of a humanoid replica, while Kensuke remains skeptical. Their uncertainty shifts when they encounter a lifelike robot child at the REbirth offices, prompting them to enroll in the program. They provide photos and videos of Kakeru to inform the design of the new model.

Upon delivery, the new Kakeru expresses basic communication skills, initially limited to phrases like “Mama, I’m home.” Otone is thrilled, but Kensuke dismisses the robot, making light of its capabilities. This dynamic sets the stage for potential conflict, yet Kore-eda does not delve deeply into the emotional complexities of their situation.

Missed Opportunities for Dramatic Nuance

While many directors would explore the inherent conflict between grieving parents and a humanoid devoid of genuine emotions, Kore-eda’s approach lacks dramatic tension. The film’s midsection feels drawn out, with minimal engagement in the emotional struggles of the characters.

A brief moment of drama arises when Otone’s mother visits unannounced and faints upon seeing the robot. Her skepticism about replacing Kakeru with a machine adds a layer of familial tension, yet it fails to generate significant conflict or depth. The unresolved circumstances surrounding Kakeru’s death also linger without exploration.

The Role of Community and Connection

An intriguing subplot involves Kakeru’s interactions with a group of children who share a bond with him. They spend time together in an abandoned warehouse, hinting at a deeper connection that transcends the artificiality of the humanoid. This aspect of the narrative introduces a more compelling exploration of community and belonging.

Kore-eda’s perspective on AI is refreshingly devoid of violence or rebellion, yet it leads to a predictable conclusion: the humanoids’ rapid learning will eventually render their human families unnecessary. The film hints at this through Kakeru’s secret project of building his own model from architectural scraps.

Nature and Technology Intertwined

One of the film’s more original concepts is the connection between robots and nature, illustrated through the metaphor of a “mother tree” that serves as a central hub for nurturing networks. While there are dystopian implications in the idea that robots may form their own communities, Kore-eda opts for a more optimistic resolution, which is underscored by a sentimental score that may feel excessive.

Cinematic Quality and Performances

The film is visually striking, thanks to cinematographer Ryuto Kondo, who previously collaborated with Kore-eda on acclaimed projects. The use of natural light and aerial shots enhances the film’s aesthetic appeal. Ayase’s performance is particularly noteworthy, as her gentle demeanor aligns well with Kore-eda’s storytelling style.

Despite its artistic merits, Sheep in the Box is a minor entry in Kore-eda’s filmography. For those seeking a more profound exploration of human-robot interactions, Kogonada’s After Yang (2021) offers a more compelling narrative.

As reported by www.hollywoodreporter.com.

Explore the latest digital editions of FAME Delivered in the Magazine section.

Published on 2026-05-16 20:24:00 • By FAME Delivered News Desk