Kamikaze. It means, literally, “;divine wind,”; a propaganda term invented by the Imperial Japanese during the last year of the war as a way of applying an historical and religious gloss over the sacrifices made by the country's suicide pilots, and has since entered the world-wide lexicon as a catch-all for any maniacal seeker of death and glory.

So imagine filmmaker Risa Morimoto's reaction when she discovered that her late uncle, the nice, gentle guy she knew as a child in New York, had been a kamikaze during the war. Actually, you don't have to imagine it, as she's made “;Wings of Defeat,”; a fascinating, feature-length exploration of the kamikaze legend.

She did so at exactly the right time. These Japanese pilots are notoriously reluctant to talk about the past to outsiders, particularly without proper introductions, but Morimoto—fluent in Japanese, attractive, curious without being prying—managed to get many of the surviving veterans to speak openly about their experiences. This, coupled with some extraordinary wartime footage, and even an anime recreation of a harrowing mission, reveals that the kamikaze pilots were largely passive and fatalistic rather than crazed airborne maniacs, pressed into the position by Japan's refusal to surrender.

One pilot recalled his feelings, as he was ordered to fly that day's suicide mission, “;Well, I'm screwed.”;

Why are there still kamikaze pilots still alive at all? They ran out of planes and fuel and time—and the thousands of teenage boys in the overnight flight schools simply weren't ready to take off.

“;Wings of Defeat”; has had a feature-theater run in Japan, an indication of the nation's awakening interest in the war years.