The meaning of life in Ikiru (1952) is expressed by the title of the film, which is translated to mean “to live.” Deceptively simple, complexity arises in how one is to live meaningfully, and this question is at the heart (or stomach) of Kanji Watanabe’s story. Introduced to the audience as a bored, superficially busy bureaucrat, Watanabe merely exists. The omniscient narrator presents Watanabe as one who hardly does that and has, in fact, been dead for the past twenty-five years. Only when forced to face his imminent death does Watanabe stir himself out of the comfort of passive existence and into a pursuit for meaning. Achieved through the building of a children’s park, Watanabe finds personal meaning through an act of great kindness and dedication to others, and such an advocacy reflects East Asian traditions in the vein of Confucian “right relationships” as well as Buddhist sensibilities of suffering and karma. Several instances of these religious ideas not being embodied occur early on in the film. A Confucian perspective finds ultimate meaning in “ordinary human existence” through the cultivation of social interactions. In describing Confucian “right relationships” or filial piety, these are the mutual, hierarchical relationships that ensure harmonious living for both parties. The cumbersome bureaucracy of City Hall prevents a mutual, beneficial relationship with the citizens. The audience empathizes with the petitioning women, and this is augmented