By Kit Pancoast Nagamura
(The Internationalist Spring/Summer 2008 Vol. 41)

Mari Takeuchi (class of '76) looks red-carpet sharp in an asymmetrical black puffer coat and high heels as she dashes through the rain to our interview at the International House of Japan. Known for her interpreting services to major movie stars—think Bruce Willis, Cameron Diaz, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Orlando Bloom, among many others—Mari's schedule is as demanding as anyone's in Hollywood, and though she's modest about it, a bit of stardust has rubbed off on this diva of communication.
Working Title
For instance, on her name card, the space reserved for company name, position, or profession, is blank. "I'm just Mari," she says, with a shrug. "I work freelance, and I don't want someone to see me through a title which is meaningless. However," she continues, laughing, "I always prefer to know what other people's titles are. I just don't want to attach one to myself."
Only professionals with solid name recognition can afford the luxury of such a decision, and Mari's name is on a par with the "Queen of Subtitles," Natsuko Toda, whom she counts as a friend and mentor. "Everybody used to say that I was going to be the second Toda-san," Mari recalls, "which is an honor, but I think I'd prefer to be just me and not second to anybody." Stars request her by name, studios trust her, and her voice, low and mesmerizing, establishes a sense of calm control from her first word.
Shocking as it might be, Mari has had no formal training to be an interpreter, unless you count her life of bilingual studies, which began at Nishimachi International School. "Actually, I really cannot talk about myself without talking about Nishimachi," she says.
Background Biopic
Mari grew up in Azabu, across the street from what is now the Grand Hyatt in Roppongi Hills. No one in her family spoke English, and they were staunchly traditional in attitude; her mother, in fact, was a well-known Nihon buyo- (Japanese dance) performer with the Hanayagi School.
"It was kind of a sexist thing," Mari recalls about her family's deliberations on where to enroll her, "because they thought, since I was girl, they didn't have to send me to a really famous Japanese school, but they also decided I might as well have an ability I could use in the future. In this sense, my mother was also shockingly liberal, because who else would think of sending her daughter to Nishimachi in the early 60s?"
Influential women in Mari's family nudged the Takeuchi's toward Nishimachi. Her godmother hobnobbed with Tané Matsukata, as both women were members of the Zonta Club for female executives and professionals, and Mari's grandmother, a jetset Seroptomist (Japan's first chairwoman, in fact), understood that English had become an essential tool for international business.
Silent Film
Upon entering Nishimachi's kindergarten in 1966, Mari knew exactly one sentence in English: "May I go to the bathroom?" Beyond this, she spoke nothing for the first three months. "But it was different back then," she says. "All I remember doing was cutting out a paper circle to pass the school interview, and kids could be accepted even if they didn't speak any English at all. I think my year was sort of experimental, because they let in a lot of Japanese kids that year."
Mari went through what she calls a "baby period," simply absorbing language around her, and finally she began to communicate in English. But achieving fluency really took a village, so to speak. Mari studied with homeroom teachers after classes, and at friends' homes during her free time.
When asked which teachers influenced her the most during her years at Nishimachi, Mari rolls her eyes. "There were so many," she says, "like Miss Hirooka, Miss Walker, Mr. Brentnall, but maybe Kitamura-sensei and Miss Risser were most influential language-wise, for giving me a solid foundation and love for Japanese and English language. These teachers were very loving, but strict. Even now, I evaluate how well I do on a job based on how they might grade me. One thing I'd really like to tell Nishimachi students is to take their Japanese studies seriously," she adds. "If you're Japanese and end up living here, you really will be judged in society by your language skills and being fluent in English won't mean a thing if your Japanese is not proper. And, if you're a foreign student, this is a huge, important opportunity."
Director's Cut
Mari attended Nishimachi from kindergarten through ninth grade, while the school was still under the active guidance of founder Tané Matsukata. So, what was the legendary educator like? "Well," Mari says, drawing out the word dramatically, "we were all kind of scared of her. She was thin, you see, and always wore a brooch or some intricate accessory—she wasn't mean or anything, but just watching her as a kid was intimidating. Still, she had the overall greatest effect on me because she wanted her students to become a bridge between two cultures, Western and Japanese. And I really feel I have to be that bridge when I interpret. I hope people whom I work with go home liking Japan a bit more than when they first came here, regardless of how short their trip might be. Probably not all interpreters feel that way, but I do, because of Miss Matsukata's attitude."
In later years, Mari finished high school at ASIJ, and while majoring in education at ICU, she returned to Nishimachi to conduct a yearlong ESL case study with the elementary students. "I always wanted to be a school teacher," she recalls, "so I TA-ed for one year with Ms. Brittle-Matsuki. At the end of my college senior year, I had a talk with Miss Matsukata, and I said, 'I want to come back'—I didn't ask her to hire me or anything—but she said 'okay,' and I found myself with my first job in life. To me, it was returning home, and Miss Matsukata welcomed me back just like a mother would receive her child."
Mari worked at Nishimachi for two years, initially as a TA for four teachers in second and third grade, "which was tough and very fulfilling," she recalls, then as assistant to two teachers in first grade. During her last year, 1985, the Ushiba Memorial Gymnasium was nearing completion, and "there was this big alumni get-together," Mari recalls, "and I saw Miss Matsukata cry for the first time. We were all touched by that. I think she was really happy, and she said, 'Finally we have a place where everybody can be together in one place, under one roof.'"
Pan and Scan
Sensing it time to expand her horizons beyond that protective shelter, Mari interviewed for a position as a publicist for Columbia Pictures (Sony), and again was hired on the spot. She found the work addictive, and each time she thought to switch careers, a new movie that she "just had to see open" would appear.
Four years passed, and Mari woke up to the fact that though she loved working as a publicist, the next decade was likely to be something akin to watching reruns. Her mother, as well, posed this question to Mari: "How much longer are you going to stand working for somebody?"
Mari realized it was time to reassess: "I was 28 years old," she explains, "and I decided that either I was going to get married by age 30 or I wanted to find a field to work in where everybody would know my name by the time I reached 30. I realized I'd better hurry up! There wasn't anybody [attractively spousal] around, so I went after the other goal. I considered the cards I had in my hands—English-language ability, knowledge of the movie industry, and marketing, and came up with what I have now."
Mari's job incorporates a range of skills that go beyond bilingualism. "You really need to know how to deal with journalists and how to handle the talents," she explains. "You not only have to translate words and know the vocabulary, but you also have to understand marketing and how the company is pitching a specific movie. I'll bet I was really bad at the beginning," she adds candidly, "and I feel sorry for my first clients."
SPX (Special Effects)
These days, when Mari is able to perform perfectly, she says that she herself "disappears." Her goal is to become an invisible conduit of communication, conveying her client's personality and tone through skillful adjustments in varying levels of Japanese keigo (formal language) and slang. "Even my voice changes," Mari admits, "like I'm mimicking the person I'm translating for, with the exact intonation and pace and choice of words. Some people say I'm actually an actress, and I take that as a compliment."
In balancing talent, publicists, and media, Mari notes that there are occasional hurdles. Inappropriate questions need to be flicked away, answers that reflect badly on the film or celebrity have to be spun slightly, and weary stars can babble on toward the end of a day of, say, forty consecutive six-minute TV interviews. For this, Mari says, "Sugar is important," and she invariably carries emergency treats in her bag.
As one might imagine, Mari needs to memorize movie titles (in both languages—they are often utterly different), filmographies of stars, and translations for odd idiomatic phrases (quick now, how would you say "bigger than life" in Japanese?), but she also has to be able to forget. "Once the interview words are out of my mouth, it's done, and I have to erase my mind like a whiteboard so that I can do the next interview." Another unexpected skill her job requires is the ability to remain cool in the company of big name screen stars. "You can't be awed by celebrities," she warns, "or they might get too demanding."
Situation Comedy
So, there's no movie star who would make Mari lose her cool, no dream assignment as it were? "Well, maybe Sean Connery," she says breathlessly. And then, there was that one televised press conference when she was seated for an hour between Orlando Bloom, with whom she has worked for years, and Johnny Depp, whose profile she found fascinating. "It was really funny because my friends saw it on the 6 o'clock news," Mari says, "and they called me up and said, 'You were completely staring at Johnny the whole time, and you never even looked at Orlando!' I was just admiring Johnny's nose...what can I say?"
Generally speaking, Mari finds herself wowed by actors she was exposed to before working in the industry. She admits to being impressed by Julie Andrews ("who wouldn't be?") and Eddie Murphy ("he's exactly like he is in the movies.") However, when offered the chance to appear on the silver screen herself—Sofia Coppola asked Mari to play the part of the interpreter in Lost in Translation—Mari says she's glad she demurred. "It was very sweet of Sofia to ask me, but I only knew the title then, and I just thought it wasn't the best title for an interpreter to be in."

Photo courtesy of Walt Disney Japan
Deep Focus Shot
Mari's ease with a wide variety of people—actors and directors from abroad, local marketers, media professionals, and even security at press events—she attributes to her alma mater. "I'm most grateful to Nishimachi because I learned there to assume that everyone is different, and that that's natural," Mari says. "The core of worldwide political, and even local problems is when you assume everyone should be the same as you are, and if they're not, that they're wrong. [At Nishimachi] we all had different languages, cultures, and holidays, and we didn't think anything of it. This is such valuable and useful information for my life and for my job right now. Many people ask me where I learned my English, and I tell them about this really special small school in Tokyo, so a lot of Hollywood stars know about Nishimachi," she added.
Double Billing
Mari's passion for her work is exemplified by the names she has chosen for her favorite possessions in the whole world, her two cats. One is named Lily, and the other, of course, is the interpretation: Yuri.
JAPANESE
「肩書きで判断されたくないのです。だから名刺は名前だけしか印刷していません」
家族は誰も英語ができなかったので幼稚園入学時知っていた英語は必要最小限の"May I go to the bathroom?"だけ。3ヶ月はクラスで何もしゃべらなかったそうです。赤ちゃんが言葉を覚えるようにその間全部耳で吸収していたのでしょうね。ある日突然英語を話し始めたそうです。影響を受けた先生がたは広岡先生、ミス・ウォーカー、ミスター・ブレントノル。北村先生とミス・リッサーからはしっかりとした言語の基礎と言葉に対するこだわりを教えていただきました。
現役の西町の生徒さんには、ぜひともきちんと日本語を勉強してもらいたい。日本人であれば、英語がどんなに堪能でも社会に出ても日本がちゃんとできなければバイリンガルである意味がありませんし、外国人であれば日本語を学べる素晴らしいチャンスですからね。
松方先生の思い出と言えば、すごく厳しいといったイメージがありますね。とても偉い方で近寄りがたいといった感じでした。でも私たち生徒に大きな影響を与えてくださったことは確かです。例えば西洋と日本の架け橋になりなさいとは日頃からおっしゃっていたことです。きっとその影響でしょうね。通訳をしていても、海外からのお客様が少しでも日本のことを好きになって帰っていただけることをいつも第一に心がけています。
学校の先生になりたくてICUでは教育学を専攻しました。その後、松方先生のお許しを得て、2年生と3年生の担任4名のアシスタント、その後は1年生の担任2名のアシスタントとして2年間西町に勤めました。将来の展望を広げるために次に選んだのはコロムビア映画の宣伝部でした。映画宣伝の仕事はとても好きで充実していたのですが、将来に疑問を感じ始めていた矢先に「いつまで人に使われているつもりなの」という母の言葉に促されて、また一つの大きな転機を迎えることになりました。私の手持ちのカードは英語力、映画界についての知識とマーケティングのノーハウ。これらを最大限に活かした結果が今の私です。
映画の通訳は言葉を訳すだけではありません。マスコミの対応から有名スターのアテンドも的確にできなくてはなりませんし、それぞれの映画の宣伝戦略を考慮に入れながら言葉を選んで通訳する必要もあります。
最初の頃は、ずいぶんたどたどしかったと思いますよ。でも今は、記者会見やインタビュー取材で自分を『消す』ことができるようになりました。つまり今は、取材している方が通訳なしで直接話をしている気持ちになれるよう、通訳している方の人柄や声のトーンを敏感にとらえて敬語やスラングの使い方一つにも注意を払い、言葉だけではなくその方の"ひととなり"も伝えようとしています。その為に声のトーンを変えて話すこともあります。『あなた自身が女優なのね』とよく言われますが、それも褒め言葉としてありがたく受け止めています。
ひとつのインタビューが終わった時に、口から出た言葉全てを忘れることができるのも一つの特技かもしれません。次のインタビューに向かう為に頭の中の黒板を消しておく必要がありますから。
通訳には、どんな相手に対してもいつも冷静でいられる資質も必要です。有名なスターの前で緊張していたら仕事になりませんからね。でも、ショーン・コネリーとお仕事をさせていただいたらきっとドキドキしちゃうでしょうね。それから、記者会見でオーランド・ブルームとジョニー・デップの間に挟まれて仕事をした時のことでした。ニュース番組での中継を見た友人から『ずっとジョニーばかりを見ていたじゃない。オーランドには見向きもしなかったわね』と言われたことがあります。ジョニーの鼻に見とれていたのがしっかりバレてしまいました(笑)。
ソフィア・コッポラに「ロスト・イン・トランスレーション」への出演を誘われたことがあります。でも、映画のタイトルしか伺っていなかったものですから、光栄でしたがお断りしました。通訳には耳が痛い題名ですもの。
西町から学んだとても大切なこと。それは、人間誰一人同じではないということです。世界のさまざまな紛争も、身近な問題も、人はみんな自分と同じと思い込み、そうでない人は間違っているという決めつけが根本にあると思います。西町ではみんな違った母国語と文化を持ち、違う祭日を祝っていました。それが、ごく当たり前だったのです。西町の教室で培ったこういった経験が、今の私の人生、そして仕事でおおいに役立っています。よく『どこで英語を学んだの』と聞かれますが、その時には東京の小さいけどとても特別な学校の話をします。西町はハリウッドのスターの間でも有名ですよ。