Not to be confused with popular manga Tomorrow’s Joe, but clearly named in reference to it, Joe, Tomorrow is a 2015 documentary directed by Junji Sakamoto. It tracks almost two decades in the life of Japanese boxer Joichiro Tatsuyoshi.

Tatsuyoshi turned pro at the age of 19, and within a year had won the Japanese Bantamweight championship. By 1991 he had won the World title; just under a year later he lost it. He won it a second time in 1997 at the age of 27. Ignoring pressure to retire, he continued fighting professionally until 2009 and then – when the WBC would no longer license him – continued to fight in Thailand. Sakamoto’s documentary runs from the boxer’s mid-20s right up to 2014, where he is still ambivalent over when he is going to finish boxing for good.

It is a fascinating documentary for a number of reasons. For one, while it is about a boxer there is little to no footage of actual boxing matches. Instead each major bout is depicted via photographs and voiceover. The film is dominated by a series of one-on-one interviews between boxer and director. They cover his aspirations, his family, his relationship with his father, and all manner of personal details. The focus is very much on the question of why Tatsuyoshi boxes, rather than his actual sports record.

As the interviews take place over something like 20 years, they gain a longitudinal advantage many documentaries lack. We see Tatsuyoshi evolve and mature, and become to recognise his own tics, feelings, and biases. We also, rather worryingly, see him eventually slip into the ‘punch drunk’ mannerisms that reflect a long career of head trauma. I personally find boxing fascinating on an intellectual level, and exciting for dramatic purposes (the Rocky saga remains a personal favourite), but there is a reality of long-term harm that makes it a difficult sport to actually support and watch. It is striking to watch Tatsuyoshi’s attitude to potential retirement: it always seems just on his horizon but always one step away. The sport is, for this fighter at least, a damaging addiction.

The production values are straight-forward and uncomplicated, as befits this kind of personal documentary. It is structurally very well-edited with a good sense of time and pace. Sakamoto works well to craft his footage into an engaging narrative, and the timeline of Tatsuyoshi’s career is made clear and concise.

As an independent documentary without foreign distribution, Joe, Tomorrow will likely be a devil of a thing for interested viewers to track down. This review was based on a Japanese DVD edition held by the Melbourne City Library, so I can at least confirm the home video release has English subtitles.