ReviewSchizophrenia, family and heartbreaking choices

Director Tomoaki Fujino's family in a scene from his documentary "What Should We Have Done?" / Courtesy of Atninefilm

What should we have done? How should we have done it? What would have been the best choice?

These are unanswerable questions that anyone with a sick family member must have asked themselves at least once, silently suffering as a household struggles.

The Japanese documentary "What Should We Have Done?" poses these very questions. By honestly depicting the conflict, silence and endurance of a family caring for someone suffering from an illness surrounded by social stigma, the film continuously prompts viewers to confront these dilemmas.

Directed by Tomoaki Fujino, the documentary captures a painful 20-year record of a family quietly breaking down.

The story begins in 1983, when the director’s older sister Masako, then a medical student, first showed signs of schizophrenia.

Though both their parents were medical researchers, they refused to pursue proper psychiatric treatment. Instead, bound by pride, concern over the social stigma and the belief that they could handle it themselves, they kept the doors locked and cared for her inside the house for decades.

Tomoaki Fujino, in front, and his older sister Masako, in a scene from the documentary "What Should We Have Done?" / Courtesy of Atninefilm

Right from the start, the film makes its intentions clear, stating that it is not meant to explain why Masako developed schizophrenia, nor to educate viewers on what schizophrenia is.

Instead, the film focuses on what her life became, starting by showing a photo of Masako as a child, followed by footage of her years later when her messy hair and distant gaze show the clear and heartbreaking impact of the disease.

Fujino began making audio recordings of family interactions in 1983, and picked up a video camera in 2001. He continued to film even after his mother passed away in 2011, keeping his camera trained on the family for more than 20 years.

The film has no dramatic music or voiceover narration. Instead, it chronologically presents moments captured by the director when he returned home for holidays.

Masako Fujino, older sister of director Tomoaki Fujino, in a scene from the documentary "What Should We Have Done?" / Courtesy of Atninefilm

As the years pass, the audience watches the parents grow old and Masako's condition steadily deteriorates into deep physical and mental exhaustion. When the director gently asks his sister about her feelings, Masako’s blank stare and quiet mumbling clearly show how much she was suffering from her isolation.

The documentary paints a harsh portrait of denial and self-deception within the household.

Throughout their conversations, his mother fluctuates between minimizing the illness and shifting blame, insisting her daughter is still studying medicine. His father similarly holds onto unrealistic hopes, buying medical books for his middle-aged daughter while keeping her locked inside.

A turning point comes in 2008, 25 years after the first onset of her illness, when Masako finally visits a psychiatric clinic. With proper medication, her symptoms improve within just three months, allowing her to step outside and enjoy normal daily life for a few years, before passing away from cancer in 2021. The dramatic change shows how heartbreaking those lost years really were.

Director Tomoaki Fujino's family in a scene from his documentary "What Should We Have Done?" / Courtesy of Atninefilm

Late in the film, their elderly father claims that his daughter lived a happy life — in her own way. This comment shows how deeply the parents hid from reality during those silent decades.

Before its Korean release, the director said the choice to keep his sister at home stemmed from complex dynamics within the family.

"My father wanted to leave a memory of a happy family, but I hated taking a smiling photo as if nothing was wrong," Fujino said in a statement released by the film's Korean distributor Atninefilm, referring to a family photo taken for his father's 60th birthday that became a poster for the film.

"That is why I am the only one looking away from the camera. My sister was already showing symptoms of schizophrenia at the time, and I kept telling my parents that she needed treatment. But despite both being doctors, my parents persisted in saying there was no problem, and my sister didn’t have proper care for a long time."

When asked why his father refused to seek medical treatment, Fujino pointed to multiple reasons.

"Since my father passed away, I do not know for sure what he was thinking," Fujino said. "However, I believe there were four main reasons. Back in 1983, treatments for schizophrenia were not as advanced as they are today. Second, there was deep distrust and fear toward psychiatric hospitals. Third, there was social stigma around having a family member with mental illness. Finally, out of concern for her future, my parents believed they could cure her with their own hands without leaving a medical record."

Director Tomoaki Fujino, left, talks with his father in a scene from his documentary "What Should We Have Done?" / Courtesy of Atninefilm

Reflecting on what other choices they could have made, Fujino expressed his enduring regret.

"Looking back, even given the state of 1980s psychiatry, we should have taken my sister to the hospital much earlier," he said. "When acute symptoms first appeared, calling an ambulance within 30 minutes was the right choice. What went wrong was taking 25 years to convince my parents. That delay remains my biggest regret."

In the midst of a summer blockbuster season dominated by high-budget entertainment, the documentary has become an unexpected box office phenomenon in Korea, driven largely by word-of-mouth.

Released on July 29, it drew over 30,000 viewers in just six days. As of Aug. 7, it has accumulated 37,696 admissions, ranking seventh at the local box office.

Even without direct experience with schizophrenia, viewers can relate to the universal themes around the burden of family caregiving. Rather than judging, the film evokes deep empathy by quietly observing decades of choices through the camera lens.