[ JAPANESE / ENGLISH ]

Photos courtesy of Plant Griptape

VHSMAG (V)：　How did this video project come about?

Takuma Enoki (T)：　It all started as a kind of raw impulse. I’ve watched a ton of skate videos and have definitely been influenced by stuff from overseas, but I was especially impacted by Japanese videos—like 43-26, Skate Archives., Night Prowler, LENZ II, and so on. Those videos really fired me up, and before I knew it, I was thinking, “Yeah, the Japanese skate scene is the coolest after all.” That naturally led to conversations like, “We should make our own DVD.” At first it was just a vibe, something we said half-jokingly. But then things started moving on their own, and before we realized it, it had turned into a full-length project.

V：　That was about two and a half years ago, right? Through the process of making this video, was there something in particular you wanted to express or a message you hoped to convey through the clips?

T：　As a message, I wanted to express that “creating a piece of work” is one of the most rewarding aspects of skateboarding—especially the act of filming in the streets and turning that into a finished piece. But I feel like that mindset has been fading a bit lately. Back in the day, unless you put out a video, no one would see your skating, so naturally everyone was focused on making something. Nowadays, with social media, it's easy to show clips instantly, and maybe that's made people less motivated to create full projects. But that’s exactly why filming on the streets and putting it together properly into a video now feels fresh again. We’ve had older skaters tell us they really like what we’re doing, and for us too, the whole process is just super fun. I want to keep making and putting out work like this moving forward. Ten, twenty years from now, when the next generation of skaters comes up, I hope they’ll watch our videos and feel inspired—like, “I want to start a brand,” or “I want to make a video.” The same way we were inspired by the older heads’ projects. It might be a minority approach now, but that also makes it easier to stand out. And unless there are at least one or two younger skaters with that kind of drive, I don’t think the Japanese skate scene will keep progressing.

V：　The content of the video felt pretty positive, but the title Honogura ("Dimly Lit" or "Faintly Dark") carries a darker tone. What was the meaning behind choosing that title?

T：　At first, the idea was pretty vague, but one thing I was sure about from the beginning was that I wanted to go with a Japanese title. Since it’s a Japanese skate video, filmed entirely in Japan, I wanted to show respect to our own culture. Skateboarding is originally a culture that came from overseas, so giving a video an English title often automatically makes it sound cool—but I wanted to challenge that and take a different route. I was really influenced by titles like Tozainamboku or Torotoko’s Ai No teppo Dama—works that clearly feel like “Japanese skate videos.” That kind of vibe really spoke to me, and I wanted to make something in the same spirit. So I knew from early on that I wanted to go with a Japanese title, but honestly, when we first started filming, the title hadn’t been decided yet. It actually stayed undecided until about a year before we finished. I kept thinking, “We can’t just call it Plant Video...” and went back and forth on a lot of ideas. Filming street skating in Tokyo is seriously tough, so we ended up mostly skating and filming late at night into early morning. There’s this brief time at dawn, maybe an hour or so, when the sky starts to fade into this pale blue—and everything, the sky, the ground, the city, takes on this emotional tone. We’d be out filming almost every night, and when that hour hit, it became a kind of ritual—it signaled the end of our day. As deadlines got closer, the pressure built up. There were days when nothing went right, and the vibe got tense. We’d often find ourselves sitting around waiting for the first train, saying things like, “How long can we keep doing this?” Some of us went straight to work without sleeping, or got just a few hours of sleep before meeting up again. It’s not a pace you can keep up forever. But those moments, even though we were pushing ourselves hard, felt really precious. It was tough, but it was also fun. Skating until morning felt, in a way, very “Japanese”—like a unique aspect of skate culture here. That early morning atmosphere really moved me. At first, I was just worried about how people would react to our first full-length, but over time, I realized it was just as important to capture and share the feeling of “this fleeting moment” and the fun we were having. Then one day, I rewatched the movie Dark Water (Honogurai Mizu No Soko Kara)...

V：　Yeah, a horror film.

T：　It felt almost like I was being guided to revisit that film. And when I did, I was struck by how powerfully it captured the atmosphere of Japan’s rainy season—that sense of heaviness and confinement in the air. The whole thing takes place in a single location, pretty much just a public housing complex, but it still made waves overseas. That damp, slightly gloomy feeling that’s so uniquely Japanese came through so clearly. The entire movie is dimly lit, but in a way that feels strangely real and memorable. That’s when the word “Honogura” in the title really caught my attention, and I looked up its meaning. It doesn’t mean pitch-black—it describes a faint, subdued kind of light, an in-between state. Not total darkness, but not quite light either. That subtle nuance felt so deeply Japanese to me—it hit hard. If you translate it into English, it becomes something like “dark” or “dim,” but those words feel heavier, more shadowy. “Honogura” has a softer, gentler sense of shadow—an ambiguity that’s hard to express in any language other than Japanese. And I felt like that matched the tone of our project perfectly. We’d often say, “The world feels kind of dark right now too, but it’s not like there’s no light at all. Honogura really fits the mood of the times.” There’s a sense of stagnation or pressure, but we’re still finding hope and meaning in what we’re doing. And those early morning scenes that inspired us—those were the perfect embodiment of “Honogura.” So with all those layers of meaning in mind, we decided, “Let’s go with Honogura.”

V：　Yes, you named the end credits the Honogurai Sora (Dimly Lit Sky). Does that title carry a positive connotation, like "getting brighter with the dawn"?

T：　Yes. For the ending, we used “Zanya No Teisen” by OLEDICKFOGGY, a band with skater friends of ours, and the song really seemed to capture the feeling of that early morning sky. When I first heard it, I felt instinctively that it was perfect for the final part of the video. It sounds like the ending was crucial in connecting the theme and tone of Honogura to something uplifting and positive. Instead of just putting skate clips at the end, I included moments of everyone getting hyped, messing around, and having fun—kind of chaotic, but in a good way. It creates this contrast, where the video starts off with a darker, heavier vibe and gradually lightens up, mirroring that shift in mood. It’s like the progression from the dim, early hours to the brighter moments, both visually and emotionally.

V：　You clearly have a strong connection to the music you used the video, especially since you gave it a credit in the opening.

T：　At first, I was thinking of doing it like a typical skate video—just picking tracks I liked and syncing them to the clips, kind of like a bootleg approach. But as the project went on, I started to feel that I wanted to be more intentional with the music. Japanese skate videos—like On the Broad, and the ones from Evisen and Tightbooth—put a ton of thought into their soundtracks, right? That’s something really unique to Japan, and I think it represents the culture in a proud and stylish way. I really admire that and wanted to follow in that tradition out of respect. Skateboarding and music are deeply connected cultures, and since I personally love music, we decided to commission tracks directly from Japanese artists for this one. In the end, the whole soundtrack was made entirely by Japanese musicians, and I directed the entire music side of it myself. That’s why I put the credits right at the beginning—to emphasize how important that aspect was to the concept of the video. It’s one of the key elements I wanted to highlight. As a result, the project felt more elevated, and the premiere events in Tokyo and Kobe were on a whole different level—we even had live performances, which made the screenings totally unique. It ended up being this amazing chemistry between the skaters in the audience and the artists performing. That kind of energy exchange was exactly what I had hoped for, so I was really stoked. Genre-wise, the soundtrack is super eclectic. I don’t think many Japanese skate videos have ever featured such a wide range of musical styles. There’s instrumental stuff like OPSB, but also dub, hip-hop, beats by artists like Haruka Katagata and Yoshiharu Yoshida, and even dance music. While a lot of people go with beatmakers for their videos, we mixed in all sorts of genres. When I first started skating, I was mostly listening to punk and new wave. Then through friends and skate videos, I got into hip-hop, which eventually led me to reggae. Later, my crew was really into techno and house, so we’d go to clubs together and that got me into those sounds too. I was naturally exposed to all kinds of music, and I felt like if I could channel that diversity into this project, we could make something truly original. Lately, I feel like skate videos often rely on the same kinds of music. But there’s no rule that says, “A skate video has to use this type of music.” There should be more variety, more perspectives. I wanted to break out of that mold and express something unique to me. Music and skateboarding are always linked, but there’s no single right way to do it. Everyone’s different, and that’s exactly how it should be.

V：　I also want to ask about the skating in the video— that clip on the escalator at that one spot was insane.

T：　No one had ever hit that spot before. That area is packed with spots, you know? We had just finished filming and were walking toward the station when I happened to notice it. I was like, “Wait, could we actually skate on top of that?” Around that time, everyone was buzzing about what to use for their enders, so my mind was kind of in this mode—subconsciously scanning for ender-worthy spots. I looked at that escalator setup and thought, “Maybe you could even tail drop into it,” so I climbed up to check it out—and to my surprise, it was actually skateable (laughs). I snapped a photo and sent it to Rio Morishige. He was eyeing a 50-50 there. But when we went to check it out in person, there was this weird part sticking out near the start, and the ledge tapered off a bit at the end. His nose kept getting caught on it—it was actually pretty dangerous. Rio ended up saying, “I can’t focus, this isn’t happening,” and we had to scrap it that day. A while later, I was out filming with Eijo Morishita at a different spot, and we started talking about what to do for his last trick. And out of nowhere he goes, “That escalator thing—I think I could boardslide it.” I couldn’t believe it—he was talking about the exact spot that Rio had already passed on (laughs). It’s super long, really tall, and the landing looks brutal. Plus, Eijo had only seen it in a photo. When he finally saw it in real life, his first reaction was, “This is terrifying” (laughs). He even said, “A tail drop might be more realistic.” But eventually he was like, “I’ll give it a shot.” He was definitely scared on the first attempt, but by the fourth or fifth try, he landed it. Super fast. Honestly, even we weren’t sure it was possible, so it totally blew us away—in the best way.

V：　By the way, remember that slam Kojunt took? You looked at his foot and instantly said it's either broken or dislocated. What exactly was going on there?

T：　I knew right away it wasn’t just a regular slam. He said, “I can’t move my foot,” and when I looked, his foot was completely out of alignment with his ankle. It was clearly messed up. The moment I saw it, I thought, “It’s either broken or dislocated.” So we called an ambulance immediately. Ironically, that ended up being the final tour of the whole project. We had decided to go to Nagoya, mostly because it’s full of spots people wanted redemption on. Kojunt was joining us partway through, and that day it happened to be raining. So at night, we hit that one spot. He landed the first trick—180 to 50-50—super clean. Then he was like, “Wouldn’t it be sick to go into the bank switch?” So he started trying it a few times. But then, on one of the attempts, that happened… I went with him to the hospital, and his whole foot was wrapped up. The doctor said, “You’ll need surgery back in Kobe.” But it was the middle of the night, so no bullet trains were running. We hit up Cruisers, the skate shop in Nagoya, and they let him crash there. We all carried Kojunt upstairs, got him lying down, and said, “We’re gonna go film for a bit—just hang in there till morning.” Then in the morning, we loaded him into the car and dropped him off at Nagoya Station. Total time in Nagoya for Kojunt? About six hours (laughs).

V：　Hope he recovers quickly. So Rio Morishige had the last part. He brought some serious power.

T：　Rio was one of the first members to join Plant, and we’ve known each other for a long time. He was actually the first person to take me on a skate trip outside the city. He’s a great dude—super stylish and insanely good at skating—but somehow, despite that, he was always skating with a more beat-up board and clothes than me, and I had no money either. Seeing him like that as a high school kid made me feel like something wasn’t right. I used to wonder, “Why isn’t anyone giving this up-and-coming skater the support he deserves?” He couldn’t even get griptape, so he’d use sandpaper from a hardware store instead. I remember thinking back then, “If I ever start my own brand, Rio’s the first person I’m going to support.” So yeah, this part means a lot to me on a personal level. That’s why making Rio’s part this time felt kind of emotional—it’s crazy to think that day finally came. He’s a total beast. The guy doesn’t compromise, and he never gives up. Once he decides he’s going to land something, he sticks with it no matter what. Hot, cold, whatever—he’ll keep trying for hours. The craziest session was this line he did at a ledge spot. He goes kickflip noseslide into a nosegrind. That day, he skated for 7 straight hours with just one 30-minute break. In the end, he didn’t land it. Skated for 7 hours and still no make. But Rio didn’t even get discouraged—he was like, “Next time for sure!” That energy pushed me too. I was like, “Alright, I’ve gotta step up, too.” And the next time we went, he landed it clean in like 30 minutes. Filming with Rio was super intense—going back to the same spot over and over, skating for hours in the blazing heat. It was tough, but that’s what made it so rewarding when we finally got the clips. I hadn’t done much filming myself before this project. Our main filmer, Kazuha, shot about 80% of the video. But there were times when he couldn’t film or was working on his own part, so I had to step in. Toward the second half of Rio’s filming, I ended up shooting most of his stuff. And honestly, that’s how I really leveled up as a filmer. On that 7-hour day, the difference between how I was handling the camera at the beginning and at the end was night and day. That’s when I really started to enjoy filming. We’ve already started shooting the next video, and at this point I’m filming most of it myself. Thanks to Rio, I discovered how fun filming can be—and I’ve grown a lot technically, too.

V：　Over the two and a half years of filming, what was the most memorable or impactful moment for you personally?

T：　Actually, during the course of this project, my girlfriend of five years broke up with me. And it was a serious relationship... Honestly, it hit me pretty hard. For a while, I was really down, and I couldn’t focus on anything. But at the same time, I had this feeling inside me that "it’s lame to just keep feeling sorry for myself." Right at that moment, the video project came up, so I threw myself into it with the mindset of "I’m going to make something great and show everyone." It was a big turning point. I was like, "I’m not going to lose to something like this." I felt stressed when people would either feel sorry for me or tease me without really knowing what was going on, but the Plant crew stayed the same and treated me like always, which actually helped me feel refreshed. Everyone was like, "Next, let’s make a killer video!" and that really encouraged me. Being surrounded by such good people, and having strong teammates who stuck by me, made me realize I couldn’t keep acting weak. It made me realize I couldn’t afford to stay down for too long. I’m really grateful to my friends because they helped me give my all to this project.

V：　How do you think your work is positioned within the current skateboarding community?

T：　Lately, I’ve been feeling that many skate videos aren’t that interesting. It’s often just a bunch of insane tricks flowing one after the other. Of course, those tricks are amazing, and I understand the effort and process behind them. But personally, I think skate videos can be more than just that—they can also capture the human side, the everyday moments, and the dramatic elements. Right now, it feels like everyone is just focused on tricks. So, for this video, I wanted to include not just the insane tricks, but also the documentary aspect, the fun interactions with friends, and the chaos of everyday life. I love videos like Chomp On This or Man Down, which are more lighthearted, and I also enjoy the solid vibe of works like Polar’s. I wanted to absorb different tastes and find a balance. Real moments, like drinking and laughing, or getting hurt and being taken away in an ambulance, are important too. I want the audience to feel like they’re right there with us, experiencing those unexpected events. Ultimately, the best thing would be for people to watch and think, "These guys look like they’re having fun," or "I want to go skate."

V：　I’ve heard that there’s a growing generation that’s not interested in culture and history. What are your thoughts on that?

T：　It doesn’t make sense to me. Of course, "having fun skating" is the main premise, but music, art, and video are also a big part of the essence of skateboarding, right? Skateboarding is closely tied to that culture. For example, hearing a cool song in someone’s part might get you into hip-hop. That’s how I got into skateboarding, by being exposed to different things along the way. I also draw, and I think it’s incredibly cool when skaters like Gonz or Ed Templeton are connected to art. That’s something I’ve always been drawn to. So, when I see younger kids these days just posting videos on Instagram or TikTok and getting "likes" or comments, without really engaging with that culture, it feels off to me. I think, "Well, that could be anything other than skateboarding." Of course, I’m not trying to force anything on anyone—if they’re having fun freely, that’s fine—but I believe that if they were exposed to the cultural side of things, they’d have 100 times more fun. Personally, skateboarding has become more and more interesting to me as I’ve gone on, and that’s because I’ve started to appreciate the cultural aspects more and more.

V：　What was the reason for choosing DVD over online release?

T：　I just have this feeling that I want to own it as a physical item. I love music and collect vinyl records. Of course, I use streaming services and I think they're convenient, but when you own the physical version, it becomes a memory. For example, when I was in high school, I was blown away by the screening of TONE by color communications. Hiroki Muraoka and Akira Imamura were so cool, it was shocking. After the DVD came out, I bought it and watched it until the disc was worn out. It allowed me to remember the feelings and scenes from that time. I think having those memories preserved in a physical form is really important. Nowadays, videos are quickly uploaded online. That's convenient, and it’s easy for people all over the world to see them without any cost. It fits the current age. But the next day, a new video pops up, and the previous one gets buried. It feels like information is killing us. Even if you watch something on your phone and think, "Wow," as soon as you scroll up, you forget what happened or who did what. With DVDs, though, you have to go through the effort of buying it, putting the disc in, and playing it, and that makes it stick in your memory. Plus, because it stays as a physical item, you can look back on it 10 or 20 years later and think, "That's how things were back then." That's why we chose DVD. My friends all feel the same way—"We want to have this on our shelf as part of our collection."

V：　You're selling not just the regular DVD, but also a special limited edition box, right?

T：　In addition to the standard DVD, we also released a limited edition box with only 150 sets. The contents include two DVDs: the main feature and a spin-off film titled "B Men de Koi o Shite". There's also a photo book that includes over 80 pages of historical pages, skate photos, and off-shots, as well as two postcards, all packaged with a serial number. What's more, both the box and the spin-off's jacket are hand-printed one by one (laughs). As I mentioned earlier, this is for the niche group of people who want to "own something physical." We all know that DVDs and printed materials don’t sell well in today's era. However, I didn’t want to release the project half-heartedly, and since we got some incredible photos, I decided to go all-in and make a collector's edition. Personally, I have a collecting habit not just for skate videos, but also for records, movie pamphlets, and things like "limited editions" and "serial numbers" really excite me (laughs). I wanted people to know the passion behind the project, and since I enjoy reading behind-the-scenes stories and analyses of films, I created historical pages for each chapter in the book. Two photographers from Kyoto, including Kazuya Okude (aka "Otokoume"), contributed photos, and the result is visually and texturally rich. The spin-off DVD is a raw version that presents a carefully selected collection of footage from the two-and-a-half-year production period, arranged chronologically, with only on-site sound. The main film is stylish, but the spin-off has a much more casual, down-to-earth vibe that allows you to feel our everyday life. It’s a completely B-side, no-holds-barred work that couldn't possibly be uploaded to the internet due to compliance issues, so if you're curious, definitely grab it (laughs).

V：　You mentioned earlier that you’re already working on your next project—what are your plans for the future?

T：　I’m planning to release a video at the end of this month. It’s a shorter one, but I already have a clear vision of what I want it to be about, and I’m really excited about it. I might have packed a lot into it, but rather than standing still, I feel like if we keep pushing forward, people will think, “Those guys are up to something again.” Instead of taking a breather after a full-length, I’m more into the vibe of, “Let’s keep moving and make it even crazier.” I want to keep doing fun and exciting things and keep the energy going!

HONOGURA DVD & LIMITED BOX
www.vhsmag.com/products/plant-honogura-dvd-limited-box/

Takuma Enoki
@_morningboner @plantgriptape

Born in 2002 and based in Tokyo, he directed Honogura, the first full-length video from Plant Griptape.