Hirokazu Kore-eda, the Japanese filmmaker known for Shoplifters and Broker, has stated his resistance to digital cinematography and artificial intelligence in creative work.
He frames this not as Luddism but as fidelity to what he calls being "rooted". Anchored in human observation, in the friction between filmmaker and world that produces genuine seeing. The framing sounds like philosophy and reads like principle.
It is actually a constraint that will either ossify into limitation or dissolve into pragmatic compromise. Not because willpower fails but because the constraint becomes creatively dishonest. This has happened before, exactly.
In 1995, Lars von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg signed the Dogme 95 manifesto, a vow against digital cinematography, artificial lighting. Post-production manipulation. Both men were serious about the pledge and believed the constraint would purify vision by forcing filmmakers to work within reality rather than construct it. Within five years, both had broken the vow. Von Trier shot Dancer in the Dark on digital video in 2000, and Vinterberg used digital cinematography and heavy post-production on It's All About Love the same year. They didn't abandon the philosophy because they lacked conviction. They abandoned it because the constraint didn't clarify their vision and instead narrowed their ability to execute it.
When a filmmaker commits to technological constraint as a form of truth-telling, they're making a wager that the tool reflects the ethics. But tools don't reflect ethics. They reflect what's possible. Kore-eda may find, as von Trier and Vinterberg did, that refusing digital infrastructure doesn't protect human-centered creativity—it just means working around absence rather than toward vision. Whether he's watched that history repeat enough to learn from it, or whether knowing it makes the fall inevitable anyway, will be visible not in his statements but in his next film.