In an era of AI-generated sludge and disposable "drops," The Lucky Bunny by Covert Japan and starring Misa New feels like a rebellion. It demands attention. It demands homework.
For Covert Japan, this is the moment they step out of the underground. For Misa New, this is her Blade Runner—a defining role that proves a "model" can be a philosopher, a distress signal, and a fashion icon simultaneously.
But for the audience, The Lucky Bunny is a mirror. Look closely at the screen. Look at the jacket. Look at Misa’s eyes.
When she whispers, "Don't catch me," she isn't talking to the data brokers in the film. She is talking to you. She is the luck you chase on the internet—beautiful, fleeting, and slightly toxic.
Are you lucky enough to be unlucky?
The Lucky Bunny short film will screen in select cities (Tokyo, Seoul, and a "secret Los Angeles warehouse") on December 13th. The capsule collection drops 24 hours later. Follow the white rabbit.
The success of any character-driven piece relies heavily on the magnetism of its lead, and Misa delivers in spones. While details of the plot are often kept deliberately vague in Covert Japan’s promotional style—favoring atmosphere over exposition—the premise acts as a perfect canvas for Misa’s talents. the lucky bunny by covert japan and starring misa new
In "The Lucky Bunny," Misa embodies a blend of innocence and subtle mischief. The "bunny" motif is not just a costume choice but a thematic anchor, representing luck, playfulness, and vulnerability. Misa navigates the screen with a naturalism that is difficult to capture. She doesn’t just perform for the camera; she seems to exist independently of it. Her expressions shift from contemplative quiet to radiant smiles with effortless fluidity, grounding the surreal, stylized world created by the director.
For fans of the actress, this release serves as a definitive showcase. It strips away the over-produced elements often found in similar productions, allowing Misa’s genuine charisma to shine through. She is the heartbeat of the film, transforming what could have been a simple concept into an engaging character study.
Before “The Lucky Bunny,” Misa New was known primarily as a gravure model and supporting J-drama actress, often typecast as the “cute best friend” or “mysterious ex-girlfriend.” Covert Japan, notorious for casting against type, saw something else: a stillness, a sorrow behind her wide eyes.
New’s Usagi is a revelation. She speaks only 47 lines in the entire film, yet her face carries entire novels. Watch her in the now-iconic “vending machine scene”—huddled beneath a flickering phosphorescent light, rain plastering her bangs to her forehead, a single tear tracking through her foundation as she realizes the yakuza lieutenant has already used the bunny twice. No dialogue. Just a slow zoom. New conveys terror, resignation, and a strange, maternal pity all at once.
Critics have compared her to a young Miho Nakayama meets a cyberpunk Greta Garbo. Film magazine Neo-Tokyo Noir wrote: “Misa New doesn’t play Usagi. She inhabits her. You forget you’re watching an actress. You feel the weight of that jade rabbit in your own chest.”
“The Lucky Bunny” premiered at the Underground Film Forum in Shibuya to a stunned silence, then a ten-minute standing ovation. Within weeks, bootleg recordings spread on encrypted Telegram channels. Covert Japan has not acknowledged the film since its release. Misa New, in her only interview on the topic, said simply: “Usagi is still out there. She’s still holding the bunny. I hope she lets go someday. But I don’t think she can.” In an era of AI-generated sludge and disposable
The film has since become a cult classic, inspiring fashion lines (jade rabbit pendants, vinyl platform boots), a stage adaptation in Osaka, and countless video essays dissecting its every frame. A rumored sequel, “The Lucky Fox,” has been “coming soon” for two years—which, of course, is exactly how Covert Japan would have it.
Watch if you like: Perfect Blue, Lost in Translation (but make it noir), Drive, and the unsettling feeling that your good luck today is being borrowed from tomorrow.
Rating: ★★★★½ (lost half a star only because we may never see Misa New this fierce again—though we pray we will).
“The Lucky Bunny” is not currently streaming on any major platform. To find it, you have to know someone. And if you find it… don’t borrow the bunny.
Misa New plays Usagi, a hostess at a clandestine nightclub called The Warren in the lawless district of Kabukicho-2. Usagi is no ordinary entertainer. She possesses a small, jade-carved rabbit charm—the “Lucky Bunny” of the title—passed down from her missing mother. The charm, Usagi believes, brings good fortune to anyone who holds it. But in Covert Japan’s universe, luck is a debt, and the collector always comes calling.
The film opens with Usagi performing a quiet ritual: polishing the jade bunny before her shift. We learn through fragmented flashbacks that each time someone borrows the charm, their luck turns spectacularly in their favor for exactly three days. Then, on the fourth day, they vanish without a trace. The Lucky Bunny short film will screen in
When a desperate yakuza lieutenant (played with chilling stillness by veteran actor Ren Tachibana) steals the bunny to win a gang war, Usagi is forced into a cat-and-mouse game through neon-drenched arcades, capsule hotel labyrinths, and subway tunnels where surveillance cameras have eyes. The twist: Usagi isn’t trying to get the charm back—she’s trying to warn the lieutenant that the bunny doesn’t grant luck. It consumes it. And once it has enough, it chooses a new owner: the last person who touched it.
As of this writing, The Lucky Bunny is not available on mainstream streamers like Netflix or Amazon Prime. True to Covert Japan’s covert nature, the full film is accessible via:
For those searching online, ensure you use the exact keyword—"The Lucky Bunny by Covert Japan and starring Misa New"—to avoid low-quality re-uploads or fan edits. The official release is in 4K HDR with optional director’s commentary (spoken in Japanese, with English subtitles).
The collective known as Covert Japan has never revealed its members’ identities. They release films via anonymous encrypted drops, screen them at secret locations (a Shinjuku pachinko parlor, an abandoned water park, once a moving delivery truck), and vanish. Their style is unmistakable: heavy use of practical lighting (neon tubes, car headlights, the glow of a smartphone screen), a color palette of toxic greens, bruised purples, and blood reds, and a soundscape that mixes city ambience with off-kilter synth drones composed by the enigmatic producer VOID-77.
“The Lucky Bunny” is their most accessible work—and their most disturbing. One sequence, in which Usagi follows a trail of origami rabbits through a shuttered department store, is six minutes of unbroken tension with no jump scares, only the squeak of her platform boots and the distant hum of a malfunctioning air conditioner. It’s horror through patience.
In the sprawling, rain-slicked underworld of neo-Tokyo media, where J-pop idol culture collides with gritty yakuza thrillers, one short film has achieved near-mythic status: “The Lucky Bunny” (2023), directed by the anonymous collective Covert Japan and featuring the breakout performance of Misa New.
At first glance, the title suggests something sweet—perhaps a children’s tale or a mascot-driven comedy. But “The Lucky Bunny” is anything but. It’s a 48-minute fever dream: a neo-noir, cyberpunk-infused character study wrapped in the aesthetics of a high-fashion commercial and the pacing of a psychological horror.