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Yet for all their flair, the students seem curiously choreographed. A classroom's mirrored walls reflect an endless line of synchronized teenagers dressed in identical Adidas track pants. Even when an instructor exhorts them to accent their individuality, the result is merely a minor variation on the MTV lockstep. Such mimicry frustrates Makino, who knows that producing a top-notch star will require more than derivative song and dance. "Japanese children are taught to copy. We need to help them regain their natural inventiveness."
The impulse to breed creativity propelled Makino this April to found an elementary and secondary school which he hopes will challenge the Japanese education system to soften its military rigor. Idealistically named Dream Planet, the school will eschew examinations and grades. One day out of five will be spent exploring Okinawa's wilderness, and students can pursue independent projects of their choice. It's a radical leap from today's Japanese schools, and the Education Ministry has refused to accredit Dream Planet. But that doesn't deter the 140 students from across Japan who have joined the inaugural class. "There are plenty of schools for children who will become salarymen," says Tomoko Shirai, Dream Planet's 26-year-old principal. A graduate of the prestigious University of Tokyo, Shirai--like many Japanese--found her education to be little more than a conduit of disconnected facts. "What we are doing is giving the others, the creative ones who have been squashed by the system, the chance to blossom."
Whether these kids, or any of those at the Okinawa Actor's School, will become the world-class innovators Japan's entertainment industry so desperately craves is anyone's guess. But a redoubled effort to create independent, ambitious youngsters may make up for one of Makino's keenest disappointments: his most famous charge, Namie Amuro, who after reaching the pinnacle of Japanese pop, retreated into motherhood at age 20 before staging a muted comeback late last year. "Amuro thought she had attained the top," says Makino, "but she didn't realize that making it in Japan is nothing. It's only after you conquer the world that you're truly a star." True to Makino's words, the Okinawa Actor's School's students profess a global view. "There are no good musicians in Japan," says 16-year-old Aisa Senda. "They have no rhythm." When asked whom they admire, a dozen teens give the same answer: Whitney Houston and Janet Jackson. Individuality, it seems, goes only so far.
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THIS WEEK'S TABLE OF CONTENTS
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Tom Wagner--Saba for TIME
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Young Japan Home
The Me Generation:
The country's privileged youth are struggling to define what they want. Their efforts--both frivolous and fundamental--are already beginning to transform the culture
Day in the Life:
What a 17-year-old girl does--and buys
Culture Club:
Tokyo has taken over as the source of what's hip and happening for the rest of East Asia
Sound Factory:
An Okinawa school turns out stars
Talk Talk:
What teens are chatting about online
Not Playing Ball:
A fresh generation is starting to shake up the hidebound world of Japanese baseball
Outside the Box:
Breaking the education straitjacket
Viewpoint:
Actress Youki Kudoh says respect the old ways
Viewpoint:
Parents should examine their own ethics
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