I try to watch a movie a day, if not more, and through movies, I

When Hideo Kojima declared, “I try to watch a movie a day, if not more, and through movies, I learned about so many different political themes I hadn't been interested in and cultural things I hadn't been aware of and economic factors I hadn't thought about,” he revealed the sacred power of cinema not as mere entertainment, but as education, revelation, and awakening. His words remind us that films, like ancient scrolls or epics sung around the fire, are vessels carrying the stories of humanity—stories that can stir the heart, expand the mind, and open the eyes to unseen truths. To Kojima, the movie is not idle pleasure, but a teacher.

The origin of this wisdom lies in the nature of storytelling itself. Long before the birth of cinema, myths and plays served as windows into the struggles of society, the dilemmas of kings, and the burdens of the poor. The tragedies of Sophocles were not only tales of gods and fate, but reflections on justice, pride, and the cost of human error. Likewise, the works of Shakespeare gave voice to questions of ambition, tyranny, and love. Cinema, as Kojima reminds us, is the modern heir to this tradition—a medium that reveals political themes, cultural truths, and economic struggles to those who are willing to watch with open hearts.

Consider the story of Charlie Chaplin’s Modern Times. Beneath its comedy and charm lies a fierce critique of industrialization, the dehumanizing force of machines, and the alienation of the worker. Or take Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather, which, beyond its tale of crime and family, illuminates the intertwining of power, corruption, and capitalism. To those who only see movies as diversion, these truths may pass unnoticed. But to those like Kojima, who approach cinema with hunger and curiosity, each film becomes a lens through which the world can be studied and understood.

The meaning of Kojima’s words is not only that he enjoys films, but that he sees them as gateways to worlds beyond his own experience. He admits he once had little interest in politics, little awareness of certain cultures, little thought for economic systems. Yet through cinema, his sympathies and awareness broadened. Here lies the profound truth: art awakens us to what we do not yet know, and it trains us to see beyond the narrow walls of our own lives.

The lesson is simple but vital: if you wish to grow in wisdom, immerse yourself in the stories of others. Read widely, watch deeply, listen carefully. Do not dismiss art as idle distraction, for it holds within it the struggles and triumphs of entire peoples. Like Kojima, you may find that what you once overlooked—politics, culture, economy—suddenly comes alive when wrapped in the flesh of story. Films, like myths of old, translate abstraction into the lives of men and women, making distant truths immediate and unforgettable.

What, then, should you do? First, approach movies and stories not only for entertainment, but for learning. Ask yourself after each tale: What does this reveal about human nature? What culture does this represent? What struggle does this illuminate? Second, seek films outside your own comfort zone—foreign works, independent creations, historical epics—so that your vision of the world may expand. Third, carry what you learn into your own life: let these stories make you more compassionate, more thoughtful, more aware of the forces that shape the human condition.

Thus, let Kojima’s words echo as a teaching: “Through movies, I learned.” This is the heart of the matter. To learn is not confined to books or schools; wisdom may be found in every story, every film, every voice. Approach them with reverence, as though they are windows into the soul of humanity. And if you do, then like Kojima, you too shall find that cinema becomes not just a pastime, but a guide—a lantern that lights your path through the vastness of culture, politics, and life itself.