“Bedtime Eyes,” directed by Tatsumi Kumashiro and released in 1987, is a largely overlooked and forgotten film in the world of cinema. Despite being helmed by one of the most prominent Japanese filmmakers of the 1980s, information about this film is scarce online.

The film explores a taboo and uncommon subject matter, that of an intimate romance between a black American GI, Spoon (played by Michael Wright), who goes AWOL, and a Japanese jazz singer named Kim (played by Kanako Higuchi), who feels her career has reached a dead end. This film is the only one of its kind to focus on such a relationship and it tackles sensitive themes such as sex, race, drugs, and identity without any reservations.

Based on the 1985 book of the same name by the controversial Japanese writer Amy Yamada, the film is a unique and groundbreaking work even by today’s standards. The soundtrack, featuring jazzy themes by Dave Matthews Orchestra, adds emotional depth to the chaotic yet passionate atmosphere of the film, particularly during the intimate scenes between Spoon and Kim.

The film’s VHS and 80s Tokyo Japan aesthetic further underscores the film’s distinctiveness. The film challenges stereotypes and tackles toxic cross-cultural romance head-on, as evidenced by the exchange between Kim and a friend who tells her that she “only listens to white music” nowadays. Her reply, is because “It’s easier to imitate,” offers a subtle glimpse into the struggles faced by forgotten Japanese Citypop and Jazz singers covering Western music during the 1980s.

The film’s portrayal of Spoon and Kim’s relationship is both fascinating and complex. Despite being deeply in love, their toxic relationship, influenced by their distorted perceptions brought about by drugs, fear, and cultural differences, causes them to struggle to realize a healthy relationship.

Even with its sexually explicit scenes, Tatsumi Kumashiro’s “Bedtime Eyes” poetically captures the reality of a black man in an unfamiliar environment and the attraction maintained by the uncertainty of both of their futures as outcasts. The film fearlessly tackles themes of shame, guilt, and helplessness, painting a vivid portrait of a male archetype that is an object of lust and yet feels exiled and marginalized in modern Tokyo.

The film’s attention to detail, which was likely drawn from its source material and real-life military expats in Japan during the 80s, is apparent throughout. It presents these relationships as they were without encouraging viewers to judge the film one way or another.

This level of honesty, combined with the film’s humanizing and emotionally deep treatment of its characters, makes it a rare and powerful work, even when dealing with such surface-level themes as race, the body, and pleasure.