The J-Drama Drop #36 (Part 2)

Continuing from part 1 of this edition of "The J-Drama Drop", it appears I had more to say about my most recent roster than I thought. (I took too many notes and I've had too many months to think about these stories, apparently.) Coincidentally the last two items in this review are both centered around death and memory, so it works out. 

さよならのつづき (Sayonara no Tsuzuki/The Continuation of Goodbye/The Next Part After Goodbye/Beyond Goodbye) - Netflix, 2024

• 
  During a bus ride up a snowy mountain in Hokkaido, Saeko's boyfriend Yusuke accidentally proposes to her; he had a more formal proposal planned once they reached the top of the mountain, but he let it slip early. Saeko (Arimura Kasumi from 'Umi no Hajiimari') accepts, and they only have a few minutes to bask in their happiness before the bus is caught in an avalanche, Yusuke is killed, and his heart is then transplanted into a patient who needs it. In her grief, Saeko does some of the things she and Yusuke had talked about doing together as a married couple; she buys the little blue house that Yusuke wanted to live in with her, and she brews artisanal coffee every morning. (Yusuke was a coffee enthusiast who met Saeko while he was on vacation in Hawaii, and she was there on a business trip for the coffee company she worked for.)
• Kazumasa (Sakaguchi Kentaro from 'What Comes After Love') experienced heart failure and was hospitalized while waiting for a new heart to become available to him. That new heart was Yusuke's heart. After recovering from transplant surgery and returning to his routine (working as a university student services coordinator while also helping his wife's family run their apple orchard), Kazu writes a letter to his heart donor's next of kin, Saeko. Per hospital policy, Kazu and Saeko aren't made privy to each other's identities. But their paths cross anyway because they have the same daily commute, and one morning when Kazu makes coffee for all his fellow stranded passengers while their train is temporarily stopped, Saeko lends him a hand. He senses an immediate familiarity with her, which is one of numerous indications that some of Yusuke's memories and emotions have been transferred to Kazu. (Even Kazu's interest in coffee is something he received from Yusuke, since Kazu disliked coffee before.)
• Saeko and Kazu slide into an occasionally awkward but mostly easy friendship, facilitated by even more serendipity: when Kazu's university contacts a local coffee company to be a supplier for the new student-run cafe he's supervising, Saeko is the representative sent there to work with Kazu. With so many of Yusuke's fond memories of Saeko rushing at Kazu, and Saeko seeing Kazu's surgery scar in addition to hearing him utter specific phrases that Yusuke would say to her when he was alive, the two eventually realize exactly how bizarrely connected they are. Their friendship dips into emotional affair territory, with neither being able to stay away from each other, and neither being able to distinguish whether their mutual yearning is organic or merely a result of Yusuke's lingering presence. 

Meh: A CGI bear appears in front of Saeko in an episode 7 scene that I'm sure is meant to be symbolic, but it's so random and unnecessary that I can't fathom what that symbolism could be. News coverage of the sighting prompts Kazu to reach out to Saeko so they can meet for what Saeko decides will be the "last" time, because she's finally decided that leaving him alone is for the best. But if the show needed a newsworthy event to bring Saeko to the front of Kazu's mind so that this false farewell scene could happen, the writers could've chosen anything! A CGI bear? Really?

 

I have a theory that's needling me, but in order to tease it out I have to spoil how 'Beyond Goodbye' ends. (*Consider this your SPOILER WARNING!*) There's a trope discussed in media criticism called the "Sick Girl" trope, wherein a terminally ill female character exists primarily to boost the development of a male protagonist—often teaching him the meaning of life or helping him to progress in some way—before she dies. And in 'Beyond Goodbye', I would argue that Kazu is Saeko's sick boy. The heart transplant only extends Kazu's life for about a year before his body rejects it and he dies, and overall Saeko benefits more from their interactions than Kazu does. Sure, Kazu makes a new friend he can nerd out over coffee with, discuss the effects of his transplant with, suck face with, etc. But Saeko gets all of that in addition to extra doses of her dead husband (via spending time with Kazu and pressing her head against his chest to listen to Yusuke's heart), which she gets to be gradually weaned off of, before moving on with a new outlook on life, without a terminal prognosis hanging over her head. If Kazu was going to die within a relatively short time frame anyway, he could've spent his last days not accidentally falling in love with someone else and agonizing over the confusion this causes him, not making out with and almost having sex with this person, not risking death to travel to a Hawaiian coffee farm on top of a mountain to see this person one last time, not sending his wife spiraling into multiple private breakdowns, not being a vessel for someone else's grief, and ultimately not having false hope about his future. To be clear, I'm not sincerely complaining about Kazu's main purpose being to help Saeko make peace with losing Yuske. I'm simply pointing it out. And honestly, it's intriguing to see a male character serving that purpose for a female character for a change. 

 

Better: 'Beyond Goodbye' doesn't get too technical about how common or possible it truly is for memories to get transferred from an organ donor to a recipient, and that's for the best. The exercise of pondering what's intrinsic to someone's unique personhood while they're alive (what knowledge or inclinations are stored in one's "heart" both literally and figuratively), versus what can get transferred between people through organ transplant, is what matters most here. The "what if" is what matters. Obviously the phenomenon is exaggerated for dramatic effect, but the show does acknowledge in a scene between Kazu and his cardiologist that while it's not scientifically proven that implantees retain the memories of the their donors, there are reported cases.

 

I initially didn't care for Kazu's wife Miki being so insecure and taking his personality changes personally; she fears that if post-op Kazu can like new things, then he can also dislike new things, and she doesn't want him to outgrow her. But once she became aware of his closeness with Saeko and actually had something to worry about, I was able to sympathize with how much Miki suffers because of Kazu and Saeko's actions. She confronts Saeko and demands that Saeko stop meeting up with Kazu, but she walks away being made to feel like she's the one being irrational and unfair; Saeko defensively rebuts that Kazu contains the only remaining part of Yusuke that she can access, and Miki doesn't know what losing a husband is like. When Kazu flies to Hawaii to visit Saeko in the final episode and lies to her about having a long healthy life to look forward to back in Japan, Miki feels she has no choice but to let him go on that trip. She loves him more than she resents Saeko, and she knows he feels compelled see Saeko one last time before he dies. Not only that, but Miki is the one who has to call Saeko in advance with the truth, not only so Saeko can share some of the painful burden of that knowledge—which is fair!—but also so Miki can advise Saeko against even thinking about having sex with her husband. (Literally, "If he has sex, he could die," because it might cause too much strain on his heart. When I heard her say that I wrote in my notes, This show is so grown! Wow.) To her credit, Miki does get slight revenge on Saeko, if you want to call it that. After Kazu's passing, she insists that Saeko come help during harvest season at the apple orchard once a year as payback (because Saeko owes her at least that), but also because she wants to see Saeko. It's implied that just like Kazu was a vestige of Yusuke's existence for Saeko, now Saeko is a vestige of Kazu's existence for Miki.

 

Speaking of things that grew on me, the ending theme song "Azalea" by Kenshi Yonezu didn't leave a strong impression on me for quite a while, but it's one of my jams now!  

And as much as I've belabored the more harmful aspects of Saeko and Yusuke's relationship, on screen it doesn't read nearly as egregiously as I'm making it sound. Rather, 'Beyond Goodbye' is masterful at conveying the experience of two people developing a connection that's so sudden and strange and not-quite-logical, yet is so magnetic and undeniable that it eclipses everything else. Saeko actually experiences this twice, with Yusuke and then with Kazu/Yusuke inside Kazu. Kazu genuinely loves his wife, he and Saeko are genuine friends at first, and their emotional affair is basically the least scandalous affair imaginable because we see how vulnerable they are and how they literally can't help being drawn to each other given the circumstances. Theirs is a true conflict of the heart.

 

Best: There's this heartwarming, almost tear-worthy motif involving Saeko, Yusuke, Kazu, the piano in the Hawaii airport lounge, and the Jackson 5's "I Want You Back" that the show keeps returning to, and I'll refrain from detailing it because it must be witnessed in order to be properly felt. But my goodness! It's such an inventive way to anchor together Yusuke's love for Saeko, Saeko's grief-induced desperation to grasp for remnants of Yusuke wherever she recognizes them, and the memory transfer that Kazu experiences. 

 

And talk about BUDGET! Shot on location in Japan and Hawaii (and New Zealand, according to the series finale end credits), with seamless editing and the most gorgeous wide shots of nature you've ever seen. In episode 5 there's a shot of a bunch of green mountains with a blue sky above them that's so striking that when I saw it I audibly gasped, paused the show, and snapped a photo of my laptop screen with my phone. 'Beyond Goodbye' is beyond visually crisp and inviting.

 

Honorable Mention: ワンダフルライフ (Wonderful Life/After Life) - 1998

 

I don't remember how I discovered this movie, but I do remember planning sometime last year to watch this in tandem with Totem, another foreign film about death. It was probably not too long after I watched an astounding animated short film called Ninety-Five Senses back in August 2024, but then time flew away from me and I didn't get around to After Life until the end of May 2025. Basically ever since my grandpa passed away just before Thanksgiving 2023, I've become increasingly interested in exploring narratives about what a person experiences as and after they die. What visions or ideas have others dreamed up about the experience of dying and the afterlife, that resonate with me? So even though I'm just now reviewing After Life (and I still have yet to watch Totem), it still fits right in with this curiosity of mine.

 

After Life focuses on a facility where the souls of the newly dead spend a week before moving on to the great beyond. During their week at the facility (a huge, dated, but well-maintained office complex), each guest has three days to come up with a meaningful, precious, impactful, or otherwise important memory that they want to collaborate with the staff to recreate on film. Those who don't select a memory in time stay behind and become part of the staff, either at this facility or other facilities like it elsewhere in Japan. The newly dead arrive on a Monday. They must pick a memory by Wednesday. Filming occurs on Friday, with a group screening on Saturday. Everyone watches all the films together in a small auditorium, and the guests magically disappear from their seats by the time the house lights come back on. I assume the staff have a day to themselves on Sunday, before the whole process begins again with a new batch of people once it's Monday again. This particular week features 22 guests, and the main conflict of the film involves the staff attempting to coax decisions out of the few holdouts. These holdouts include a 21-year-old man who refuses to choose, a 71-year-old man who would like to choose but can't think of anything, and an elderly woman who barely talks because she decided to regress to her bashful 9-year-old self before she died. Meanwhile, one of the staff (a protagonist played by Iura Arata) has a crisis when he realizes that he and the 71-year-old man have a mutual connection from the past.

 

I was so impressed by After Life's refusal to assign moral judgments to the guests, especially regarding what they did in life and what they want for their reproduced memories. The staff might side-eye a request or be baffled by a guest's behavior, but they don't condemn anyone. They're more like a hybrid of social workers/customer service people/filmmakers than judges, so the real or perceived goodness of the guests is irrelevant. Even the idea of heaven or hell is pushed aside; when a young man asks a staff member about what type of people get sent here during his intake interview, the staff member replies that everyone who dies comes through this place, no matter if they were "bad" or "good" in life. And guests have resources at their disposal; in this world, tapes of key life events exist for each year of a person's life and can be accessed upon request. This detail made me wonder why the staff wouldn't simply show guests videos of what actually happened, so they can relive their memories that way instead of going through the effort of performatively reenacting them? But then I realized something, and I believe director Kore-eda Hirokazu is asserting this idea about the nature of memory itself: complete accuracy is neither possible, nor is it always desirable. For example, a staff member gently confronts a woman about how the timeline of her memory doesn't add up, and she concedes that she embellished certain parts, but the staff member still lets her reenact that memory as she prefers to remember it. In another instance, the 71-year-old man is shown tapes of his life to help him brainstorm, and rather than gaining inspiration for his scene, he's perplexed at how his life wound up so passionless and unfulfilled. The allowance given to that woman, and the disappointment of that elderly man, reinforce the point that the entire operation is meant to send people off to the next phase with something positive to hold onto, and too much realism would detract from that. 

 

My understanding was that after viewing their films and disappearing from their seats, these people's souls move on to the unknown next phase of the afterlife, only carrying that one memory with them from their earthly existence. A literal souvenir from one last thrill that the facility staff helped make possible. But then I happened upon Winona Ryder's Criterion Closet video where she described the premise of After Life as people getting to live in that one memory forever, which would mean that choosing a memory equates to choosing where they spend their eternity. Having contemplated it more, I believe my interpretation aligns more with true ambiguity of what comes after death. Additionally, if this facility is a place where everyone's just passing through, it makes more sense for the recreated memories to be fond experiences that souls carry with them on their continued journey, rather than something for them to get stuck in. Moreover, being trapped reliving the same memory forever (no matter how beloved that memory is) sounds more like eternal boredom or torment than peace to me. Nonetheless, me preferring my own interpretation doesn't make it superior, and the fact that Winona and I had such differing understandings speaks to the film's ability to capture viewers' imaginations and inspire diverse avenues of thought. 

 

'Beyond Goodbye' has the advantage of being freshest in my memory, but I still believe it's my favorite of all three J-dramas that I watched this time around. My next "J-Drama Drop" definitely won't be coming until after the new year, but what will the roster for that look like? You'll have to come back and find out!

The J-Drama Drop #36 (Part 1)

And we're back! I initially planned to watch a lot more for this review, more honorable mention films and series in particular. But it took me longer than I'd anticipated to finish the main meat of my Japanese viewing roster (see previous mention of medication-related brain fog), so I decided to save the side dishes for the next round. In this edition of "The J-Drama Drop" we've got a show about unrequited lesbian love that I finished in May, a show about an image consultant seeking revenge against a corporate empire that I finished in August, and a show about a heart transplant-induced love triangle that I finished on November 1st. Plus, an honorable mention film about dead people getting to act out their most precious memories.

 

(Note: This is neither here nor there, but since Microsoft stopped supporting Windows 10 this fall, which basically forced me to upgrade from my beloved 9-year-old chocolate black ASUS, this review is my very first time writing or publishing anything on my new cosmic blue Lenovo! Cheers to new beginnings!)

きみの継ぐ香りは (Kimi no Tsugu Kaori wa/The Fragrance You Inherit) - TOKYO MX, 2024

• 
  Sakura, a designer in the publishing industry, realized she was gay in college when she fell in love with her best friend Mone. But she never told Mone. She watched Mone marry a man right after graduation, and was so distraught that she had a drunken one night stand with a stranger that same night, which resulted in her son Touki. Having ceased communication with Mone and moved on as a single mom, one day Sakura smells a nostalgic perfume on her now-teenage son. She recognizes it as the same perfume that she and Mone both used to wear; Sakura started wearing it first, and then gifted a bottle to Mone. When Touki later brings his new girlfriend Kanae over to introduce the girl to his mom, Sakura realizes that Kanae is Mone's daughter because her scent and appearance so closely resemble Mone's.
•  After Touki finds an old photo of Sakura and Mone from their college years at his grandma's (Sakura's mother's) house and shows Kanae, who recognizes her own mom in the photo, the teens set their moms up for a surprise mother-child double date. This is how Sakura and Mone meet each other again for the first time in 18 years. And whereas Sakura was unsure if she still had feelings for her first love anymore, all doubt disappears as she sits across the table from Mone, flustered because her crush is resurging.
• Newly reunited, Sakura and Mone restart their friendship as fully-fledged adults, and Sakura's love for Mone remains unspoken and unrequited. (She hasn't told anyone about her sexuality except for On-chan, her asexual male best friend and work colleague.) What Sakura doesn't know is that Mone was aware of Sakura's affections back in college, and those affections were actually mutual! But after getting jealous due to a misunderstanding, Mone feigned ignorance the one time Sakura almost confessed to her, and started dating her now-husband because she wanted to remain "normal" by living as a straight woman. After Touki accidentally learns of Sakura's lesbianism and her love for Mone by reading her old diary, Sakura eventually comes out to him and to her mother, and weighs the idea of sharing her truth with Mone once and for all.

Meh: I find it so strange that in this already short series of eight half-hour episodes, Mone's husband (Kanae's father) doesn't show up until episode 5. We see him in college and wedding flashbacks, but in the present day he's mentioned so little that I assumed Mone was widowed or divorced. There's no real indication he's still in the picture until episode 4, and then he finally appears on screen in episode 5. If he's that insignificant in the present, then why have him there (why have Mone still be married) at all? What I've concluded is that the show needs his character to serve as one of the reasons why Sakura and Mone didn't get together in college and won't get together now either, but beyond that he's essentially a non-factor. He needs to exist, but he's not important enough to change the bond that Sakura and Mone have, nor to even warrant being informed that his wife has romantic feelings for more than just him. Throughout the entire series, Mone's husband is none the wiser. 

 

Better: 'Kimi no Tsugu Kaori wa' isn't the most eventful drama ever made; it's mostly just people talking. However, as someone who became a scented candle enthusiast this year, the premise of scent evoking memory so strongly as to revive old or unrequited love was fascinating to me! And the way the show demonstrates the presence and movement of scent by drawing attention to the wind (in the absence of a special effects budget) is so clever.

 

On a separate note, I was pleasantly surprised by Imai Shuuto's performance as Touki in episode 7, where he has a heart-to-heart with Sakura after briefly running away to On-chan's house. I hadn't expected Touki to react to his mom's queerness in a homophobic way, given that their relationship is so close and he'd previously encouraged her multiple times to focus on herself and have more of a social life. However, I also did not expect for the news to send him into an existential crisis. Having read Sakura's old diary, he's deeply confused about why his mom gave birth to him if she knew she was attracted to women. Touki fears that he's been a burden and an obstacle to her greater happiness; she doesn't really need him, and if he didn't exist, his mom wouldn't have to stifle the lesbian part of herself. He confides all this to On-chan while at his house, and the emotional pain in his delivery is incredibly believable, along with the tearful relief he exhibits when his mom arrives and affirms how much he means to her. Very impressive for an actor so young.

 

It's also worth noting that during this coming out conversation, Sakura doesn't have to spell it out because Touki bluntly asks her, "You like Kanae's mom, right?" Then, as she responds in the affirmative, she begins to say, "I like women," but then corrects herself and says, "I like Mone" rather than letting the more general blanket statement linger. And I wonder what that's about. At this point she's acknowledged being a lesbian in prior conversations with On-chan, so I'm curious about what makes this moment different and why that verbal distinction needs to be made. Regardless of the reasoning, I appreciate the subtleties that are written into this scene.

 

Best: This drama handles sexuality so gently, it has such an abundance of grace for young Sakura and young Mone being afraid and confused about expressing their attraction, and it allows adult Sakura and adult Mone to be at peace with their choices. It's not so much that they doomed themselves to a life of sorrowful yearning and regret by staying in the closet, but rather that as full as they've made their lives already, finally seizing the opportunity to embrace themselves and be honest with each other enriches that fullness. In the aforementioned episode 7 discussion with Touki, Sakura insists that although he was unplanned, she was elated to have him to focus on and take her mind off her troubles once he was born. He became, and still is, her life's treasure. As for Mone, she's shown responding in similar ways when she touches hands with Sakura and her now-husband respectively, which would imply that she's bisexual. So she might have married a man anyway, but she would've been able to do so with a clearer sense of her own identity if she'd spoken up to Sakura or let Sakura fully confess to her when they were in college. 

 

Just like with another LGBTQ-centric drama called 'Prism', I selfishly hoped for mess and scandal when I decided to watch 'Kimi no Tsugu Kaori wa'. (Specifically that Sakura and Mone would boldly profess their love, Mone would leave her husband, and the two women could enjoy the lesbian relationship they always deserved in their 40s.) And just like with 'Prism', I was mistaken but not necessarily disappointed. In this show, Sakura embracing her sexuality, owning her affection toward Mone, letting her loved ones know her truth, and having ample support to do all of those things, is more important than "getting the girl," so to speak. Because technically, she doesn't get the girl. Mone tries to broach the subject of Sakura's feelings towards her near the end of episode 8, but Sakura interrupts her and says to wait until the children are grown, promising to properly confess when the time is right. To a certain extent, by agreeing to delay this necessary conversation, they're also tacitly acknowledging their love for each other. Cut to Touki and Kanae's wedding reception six years later, in a scene where the mothers of the bride and groom are standing off to themselves. After all these years, Sakura finally admits to Mone that she's always loved her. Mone says "I know." Sakura says, "That's all." And both are all smiles as the series ends. So again, there's no onus for either of them to do anything about Sakura's feelings, other than to openly acknowledge them.

マル秘の密子さん (Maruhi no Mitsuko-san/Secretive Mitsuko-san/Secret Makeover) - NTV, 2024

• 
  Mitsuko is an image consultant ("total coordinator") who frequently espouses a mantra assuring her clients that their world will change once they change themselves. ("Anata ga kawareba, sekai wa kawaru.") After the CEO of a family-owned development corporation called Kujo supposedly dies in his sleep, it's revealed that he willed his company shares to his caregiver Natsu. Natsu had been employed by him since he survived a construction site fire six months prior, and because she was the only person who encouraged his dream of doing more philanthropic projects, he supposedly hired Mitsuko in advance to groom Natsu into becoming his successor.
• The Kujo family is incensed by the intrusion of Natsu (a poor single mom) and Mitsuko (a complete stranger) into their midst, and as a new CEO vote approaches, the family conspires to thwart Natsu's efforts and ascertain who this mysterious Mitsuko really is. Of the many secrets Mitsuko is harboring, the most pertinent are that her older sister Mariko used to be the dead CEO's secretary, the philanthropic pivot was initially Mariko's suggestion, Mariko died in that construction site fire, and Mitsuko is on the warpath to infiltrate Kujo and punish whoever's responsible for her sister's death. Her fabricated persona as an image consultant is a means to that end.
• With Mitsuko as her advisor, her two adult children (also Kujo employees) helping her, and several lucky breaks, Natsu eventually ascends to power. But once newly-appointed, Natsu begins to shut Mitsuko out, and it's clear that Natsu has some secrets of her own. Mitsuko's pursuit of justice for her sister and Natsu's priorities as CEO suddenly seem opposed, but this wedge between them can be removed by uncovering the real culprit behind that fire and the former CEO's death. 

Meh: There's a point at the end of episode 8 where Mitsuko confronts Natsu with evidence that appears to prove that Natsu was responsible for Mariko's death, and Natsu turns uncharacteristically cold-blooded and responds, "And what if I did?" before banishing Mitsuko from the premises. I was both shocked and thrilled at the idea of the underdog being the villain the entire time, someone who played the long game by using Mariko and pretending to be the meek, helpless, and unassuming woman that everyone assumed her to be, just until she attained what she wanted. And remaining soft-spoken, even when she calmly reveals her true nature to Mitsuko and kicks Mitsuko out of her office. That's power! I respected Natsu's commitment to her strategy! Middle age actresses aren't given the chance to play such juicy roles often enough, and I was glad that Matsuyuki Yasuko (as Natsu) received this rare opportunity. My enthusiasm was short-lived, however, because by the end episode 9 it's unveiled that Natsu actually tried to save Mariko and was unfortunately unsuccessful. Not only that, but Natsu only started acting cold and distant to protect Mitsuko from anonymous threats that she'd been receiving. Which was a slight relief, but I enjoyed the story more when I thought Natsu was a thug. Mitsuko's already her own kind of thug, so the two women could've had a thug-off. Like, if we're gonna go there, let's go there. But not so.

 

Better: Old money evil though they may be, I couldn't help but be impressed once I noticed that the Kujos are mostly women. In a country where the dream of gender equality is even further off than it is in the US, women run this corporation. These women consist of a grandmother (the elderly chairwoman of the company whose approval everyone vies for); a mother (the chairwoman's daughter and the dead CEO's wife, who makes their two adult children compete for her affection as well as the CEO spot); and a daughter (one of said adult children). The deceased CEO orignally married into the family in order to take on that executive role, and he secretly resented being akin to a puppet, like hired help who only served to do his wife's and mother-in-law's bidding. Unfortunately for him, that description is accurate; the Kujo family is traditionalist, and having a man at the helm in such a male-centric society made it easier to do business. While the Kujos as a whole are far from aspirational, it was nonetheless refreshing to see women pulling the strings. 

 

Aside from the murder mystery, corporate intrigue, and rags-to-riches of it all, part of what makes 'Maruhi no Mitsuko-san' engaging is how conspicuously stylized it is, especially through fashion and decor. The story is set in the present but the design makes everything feel like it's happening outside of time, like in a dream. The show's look is both colorfully whimsical and slightly anachronistic, with a hint of underlying mystery or darkness to it. From episode 1, 'Maruhi no Mitsuko-san' immediately put me in the mind of the anime 'xxxHolic' and the work of Ninagawa Mika (Helter Skelter, 'Followers', and coincidentally also the live action film adaptation of xxxHolic which I haven't seen). There are moments where watching 'Maruhi no Mitsuko-san' feels a bit like watching a dark fairytale, and that visual component helped keep me coming back. 

 

Best: Mitsuko is such a well-written, well-designed, and well-acted character. She's like the Mary Poppins of image consultants, just popping up randomly wherever her services are needed, and eating heaping bowls of lemon shaved iced (kakigoori, a sentimental dessert she used to eat with her sister) instead of that classic "spoonful of sugar." At the beginning of episode 1, Mitsuko even carries around a weekender bag that clasps at the top, and a huge, long-handled, vintage-looking umbrella reminiscent of Mary Poppins. But Mitsuko's charm is nothing compared to her cunning; she knows no bounds when it comes to accomplishing her schemes. Would she kill someone? Maybe not. But would she push people in front of cars, surprise attack them with paralytic injections to the neck, find out where their kids attend school, and wield all manner of incriminating or humiliating information against them, just to set her machinations in motion? Absolutely. All while consistently being the best dressed out of the entire cast! The costume designer of this drama deserves an award, because Mitsuko be wearin' them outfits! She's not the only impeccably styled character, especially as Natsu begins to evolve, plus the grandmother chairman always sports her sharply-cut bright ginger hair and a red lip. But Mitsuko and her fashions always stand out. 

 

These glowing qualities all boil down to the fact that Fukuhara Haruka (as Mitsuko) absolutely makes this show. She's thoroughly showing her acting chops here, so much so that I didn’t even recognize her right away. What an astounding change from the naive but earnest college student and teen mom she played in '18/40'. In 'Maruhi no Mitsuko-san' she's grown, she's devious, her fashion sense is lethal, and depending on the circumstances she might be lethal too! But considering that 'Maruhi no Mitsuko-san' is ultimately about sisterhood and female friendship, particularly between a younger woman and an older woman, this show is more thematically similar to '18/40' than it may seem on the surface. Which makes Fukuhara Haruka's casting make even more sense.

 

Last but not least, hearing Superfly's voice sing the ending theme song "Charade" for the first time put a smile on my face. Her music career took off back when I was in high school, and it's nice to know she's still around. 

 

As I write, this review is already looking longer than I'd anticipated, so I'm splitting it in half. Read part 2 here!

The J-Drama Drop #35

Believe it or not, I had so many book and J-drama reviews planned for the first half of 2025, and yet here I am in May, just now publishing something new on this blog for the very first time this year. Charge it to my hormones, not my heart. (Backstory: I started a new medication in January. It's serving the purpose it was prescribed for, but it's hard to write about the stuff you read and watch when you're not finishing anything, and it's hard to finish things when your brain is foggy and your concentration is sometimey.) Anyway, I think I've finally adjusted enough to get back into writing again, so here's my review of a scandalous infidelity-themed J-drama that I watched in the second half of 2024, a heart-wrenching yet adorable father-daughter J-drama that I finished this February, and an honorable mention K-drama that I finished last month.

夫の家庭を壊すまで (Otto no Katei wo Kowasu Made/Until I Destroy My Husband's Family/Until I Destroy My Husband's Household) - TV Tokyo, 2024

• 
  Minori is a Waseda University-educated mother and housewife, and Yudai works in sales. Minori believes that they've been happy together for the past 17 years, until she sees a text on her husband's phone from a mysterious contact named "W.M." Suspicious, she follows her husband around one night and discovers that he has a whole second family. This family includes a hairdresser/salon owner named Riko who was one of their high school classmates, and her 18-year-old son Wataru (the "W.M" who's been texting Yudai). Back in high school, Yudai knew Riko first before getting close to Minori. Sometime after marrying Minori, Yudai rekindled his relationship with Riko (after she had a baby by a different married man), and has been spending time with Riko and Wataru on the side for about a decade.
• Minori's female lawyer friend strategizes a divorce plan for her, but thousands in alimony isn't enough. Minori wants to punish Yudai for his "crime" of adultery, and destroy his second family too. She begins by getting herself hired part-time as one of Wataru's juku (cram school) tutors, so she can gain intel via proximity and manipulate Wataru via the crush he develops on her. Which is how she learns that Riko is pregnant with Yudai's child. More sleuthing reveals that not only does her mother-in-law prefer Yudai's side family, but mother and son have been plotting on Minori since high school! Minori is the secret love child of a former employee of the Tsukishiro jewelry company and the company's current chariman, and Yudai's mother knows this because she used to housekeep for the Tsukishiros. Yudai was coached by his struggling single mother to date and marry Minori, so they could eventually manipulate Minori out of an inheritance that she didn't even know she had. (Minori's mother died when she was a child, and her maternal grandfather raised her without informing her of her heiress status.)
• Armed with the full knowledge of her husband and mother-in-law's scheme, her grandfather's deathbed confession about her parentage, her father's resources, and Wataru's misplaced loyalty, Minori enacts her revenge. She gets her mother-in-law fired, gets Yudai exposed at work and demoted, rubs their deceit and imminent poverty in both of their faces, causes Yudai to abandon Riko, demands that Yudai sign divorce papers, and leaves town with her and Yudai's young son Tsubasa. Seven years later, Minori (now 40) is running a kid-friendly cafe in the countryside, and by pure coincidence Wataru (now 25) shows up as a new teacher at Tsubasa's school. He makes clear that he still desires her and that he's not a kid anymore, which she repeatedly rebuffs at first. Meanwhile, Yudai is a pitiful shell of his former self hoping Minori will give him a second chance, and having learned nothing from their comeuppance, both his mother and Riko devise ways to get back at Minori. 

Meh: The hair technology is still not technology-ing! Just like in 'Tokyo Girl' and 'Fukushuu no Miboujin', we have yet another female lead sporting yet another egregiously terrible bob-with-extensions combo that isn't blended well! The color match is perfect but the overall cut and shape are not, which is especially obvious in episodes 2 and 3. Minori goes to Riko's salon to get her hair cut by (and spook the life out of) Riko in episode 4, so obviously the "new" bob is the hairstyle the actress has had all along (which looks fantastic on her!), and she only needed extensions to give her character the illusion of long tresses for the beginning of the series. But come on! Y'all gotta at least pretend to care about pulling off a hairstyle that's convincing! 

 

Better: I was unprepared for the level of empathy displayed between Minori and Wataru. Minori does use the boy to hurt his mom, but she also recognizes that he's not at fault for her husband's affair. And when Minori reveals to Wataru who she really is in episode 4, he doesn't expose her identity or her plan to Riko and Yudai. Because of their shared experience as children of affairs, he empathizes with how much Minori has suffered due to Riko and Yudai's selfishness, and shockingly, he promises to help her with whatever she needs for her revenge plot so that he and his mom can be forgiven. Minori is cognizant of the fact that she doesn't deserve Wataru's empathy given the power imbalance between them, and she's steadfast about keeping her distance from him in the flash forward (episodes 9 through 12), but he insists on offering it anyway. Now grown, having tried to approach Minori multiple times, Wataru gets caught in the rain with her in episode 10 and they take shelter in a construction site. During this scene he explains to Minori that although she used him, he credits her for setting him on the path to becoming a Wasei-educated teacher and an overall more caring person. They make out (initiated by him) after he moves her to tears by identifying the sense of guilt he sees in her for making bad people suffer even though they deserved it, because he feels the same guilt, and he believes they can overcome it and move on together as a couple. Their kiss is interrupted by a phone call from her son, and Minori once again rejects Wataru (not wanting to hurt her son, Wataru, or Wataru's little sister/Riko and Yudai's lovechild), but the pair do make their own unique commitment to each other by the end of the series. I'm not saying their relationship is right or appropriate, I'm just saying their ability to empathize with each other and eventually fall in love on less imbalanced terms makes narrative sense in context.

Speaking of Wataru, I appreciate how much 'Otto no Katei' is willing to lean into giving us someone to hate (in addition to Yudai and his mother), that someone being Wataru's mother. Riko is such a bird! Sure, she's been desperate for love her whole life and has never been anyone's first choice. But the show never lets the audience forget how much of a bird she is, and the audience is allowed to keep judging her for it, especially since Yudai is getting his just desserts too. We can look down on them both! Which is so much fun! (For those who don't know, a "bird" is what Black people have been calling women who forsake their dignity in order to get, keep, or align with men for decades, long before "pick-me" became the more recent popular slang term for that same phenomenon.) You are a MOTHER! Why does your SON have to run away, then agree to move back in on the condition that you leave your married boyfriend alone, in order for you to finally stop messing with said married boyfriend? I know I just waxed on and on about empathy, and I know Nichole Perkins said side chicks are deserving of empathy too. But some (fictional) side chicks deserve to be told about themselves, some of them deserve to lose something, and shows like this and the K-drama 'Doctor Cha' understand that in a way that satisfies the petty subsection of my soul. Nonami Maho truly did her job playing this character, because literally the only thing I liked about Riko was the fact that she resembled the singer Che'Nelle.

Best: The way Matsumoto Marika plays Minori as a woman who's losing her mind (actively unraveling at home and in meetings with her lawyer friend), but who's also still shrewd enough to keep saying targeted things to her husband and gauging his reactions (repeatedly toeing the line of almost revealing what she knows before the time is right)? The serial killer energy of her performance reminded me so much of Dominique Fishback's performance in 'Swarm.' Especially Matsumoto's ability to deftly switch between emotional levels, facial expressions, and tone of voice. One minute she's the dutiful housewife with the cutesy high-pitched voice who pretends to be oblivious to her husband's exploits, the next she's a gravelly-voiced woman scorned who's ready to stab and/or scare him to death. Just magnificent.

 

Also, the opening theme song, "down under" by zakinosuke (now known as YUSII)? It GOES! I dare you not to body roll to it!  

海のはじまり (Umi no Hajimari/Umi's Beginning/The Beginning of the Sea/Where Does the Sea Begin) - Fuji TV/2024

• 
  Eight years after the last time he saw Mizuki (his ex-girlfriend from college), Natsu gets word that Mizuki has died from cervical caner. At the funeral, he meets Mizuki's 7-year-old daughter, whom Mizuki's mother Akane (the child's grandmother) reveals is his daughter too. Natsu impregnated Mizuki in college, but didn't learn this until she had him sign an abortion consent form. She couldn't go through with the abortion but also didn't want to limit Natsu's future prospects (knowing that he'd drop everything to father his child if he knew she kept it). So she let him believe that she underwent the abortion, then dropped out of school without telling him, and then broke up with him over the phone, lying that she fell in love with someone else. She proceeded to raise the baby (the titular Umi) as a single mother, with increasingly more help from her friendzoned library co-worker Tsuno and her parents as her cancer was diagnosed and worsened. 
• At the funeral, Akane tearfully asks Natsu to consider raising Umi, but doesn't give him a chance to process and respond before walking away and taking Umi with her. On the other hand, Umi becomes so obsessed with forging a connection with Natsu that the next day, while Akane is out running errands, Umi sneaks out and visits Natsu at his apartment all by herself. (She knows the way because Mizuki had previously walked her there and told her that this is where her father "Natsu-kun" lives.) This leads to a loose visitation arrangement, where Umi and Natsu alternately spend time at each other's homes and on outings, Natsu learns more about how Mizuki was living before she died, and Mizuki's parents patiently advise Natsu while waiting for him to decide if he wants to assume his parental rights to Umi or not.
• Natsu comes from an unconventional family himself (a blended family consisting of his once-divorced mom, his stepdad, and his younger step-brother), and so seeks their input on the Umi situation. This is in addition to the input of his supervisor at work, and that of his girlfriend Yayoi, who often participates in his visitations with Umi despite her own complicated relationship with the notion of motherhood. Even as Umi is ready to love Natsu and Natsu gradually embraces the changes he must make to be the father she needs, hiccups abound that they both learn to bounce back from. And while Natsu must decide whether to legally acknowledge his daughter, Umi must decide who she wants to live with, and if she's willing to change schools and leave her grandparents to live with Natsu. All of this, while everyone continues grieving Mizuki in their own respective ways.

Meh: I don't like how the script has Yayoi tell Natsu that she "murdered" the baby she previously aborted (more on that later). But given that the scene is her opportunity to be more honest with Natsu and admit how her over-eagerness to fill the role of Umi's new mom was motivated more by a desire to assuage her own guilt than by genuine affection for Umi (more on that later too), I can let it slide.

 

Better:  The writing of 'Umi no Hajimari' offers an abundance of  vulnerability, and so many difficult but necessary conversations. The last time I recall witnessing J-drama dialogue this consistently nuanced and mature was in 'Prism.' And maybe 'Rikon Shiyou Yo' too.

 

Also, it's common for Japanese names to be nature-themed, but that theme seems particularly pronounced through this show's character names. Natsu (meaning in summer, plus his last name Tsukioka partially refers to the moon, "tsuki"). Umi (meaning sea, Mizuki's favorite place that she and Natsu used to frequent together). Mizuki (the "mizu" refers to water, plus her and Umi's last name is Nagumo, meaning southern cloud). Yet another commonality I noticed between this J-drama and 'Silent', in addition to both shows featuring Meguro Ren as a lead character who has trouble communicating verbally. (In 'Silent' his character stops talking once he loses his hearing, whereas in 'Umi no Hajimari' his character is simply not very talkative or outspoken.) And as I write this I'm discovering that these commonalities aren't merely coincidental, since both shows share the same screenwriter (Ubukata Miku) and directors (Kazama Hiroki and Takano Mai)! 

 

Best: This little big-eyed 7-year-old girl is so precious! As Umi, Izutani Rana is one of the most impressive child actresses I've seen in a very long time. The baby can act! And apparently she's been in the industry since she was 2.

 

As integral figures in the Natsu/Mizuki/Umi saga, the side characters are what give this show extra heart. Even from just the first two episodes, I was astounded by Otake Shinobu's ability to portray all the nuances of pressure that Akane is under: having to balance her own grief with the responsibility of raising her granddaughter, holding the floor open for Natsu to step up as a father, but also having patience for the fact that he's going to be ready right away, thus masking her own disappointment and managing Umi's expectations, while not crushing the child's hope of having a relationship with Natsu or making Umi think that his hesitancy is the child's fault. The show does not work without Akane fostering opportunities for Natsu and Umi to bond despite her own trepidation and pain, and Otake Shinobu gets every bit of that across.

 

Tsuno's character is important representation for people outside of a deceased person's family who get left out of the grieving process, despite having been a mainstay in that person's life while they were living. Akane belatedly calls Tsuno and acknowledges as much to him, thanking him for taking care of Umi when Mizuki was too stubborn to accept her parents' help (before she got sick and moved back into her parents' house with Umi). In that same phone call Akane apologizes to Tsuno and invites him to Mizuki's 49th day burial ceremony, and you can read on his usually stoic or sour face how much hearing that acknowledgement means to him. He basically set his (mostly) unrequited feelings for Mizuki aside and spent years of his life helping to raise Umi out of the goodness of his heart, picking the girl up from daycare and babysitting her at his place as Mizuki needed. He encouraged Mizuki to tell Umi's birth father about her existence, looked after Mizuki in the hospital as her cancer worsened, everything. Only to feel cast aside and cut off from Umi after Mizuki's funeral. He'd tried to help sort through Mizuki and Umi's belongings at Mizuki's apartment, but Akane refused his assistance, saying "the family" would take care of it. With Akane rectifying that by acknowledging Tsuno as family, Tsuno received the validation he deserved.

 

The other side character who makes an indelible difference in this show is Yayoi (Arimura Kasumi from 'Call Me Chihiro' and Hanataba Mitai na Koi wo Shita). Learning about Mizuki and Umi from Natsu is triggering for her because, as it turns out, she had an abortion in a prior relationship. Just like Mizuki did with Natsu, Yayoi presented the abortion consent form to her then-boyfriend and he signed it, but unlike Mizuki she followed through with the procedure. Years later, Yayoi still keeps that fetus's sonogram in an envelope, tucked inside an old diary in one of her drawers. She even maintains a memorial locker and tablet for the fetus at a separate location from her apartment. THAT backstory made me realize why an actress of Arimura's caliber took on this non-leading role. And the honesty in her character's trajectory is so rich! Yayoi goes from gleefully trying to be Umi's replacement mom, to pulling away from both Natsu and Umi (starting to resent that all her time with her boyfriend tends to now include Umi too), to fully accepting that she actually doesn't want to be slotted in as Umi's mom after all now that she's no longer motivated by her abortion guilt like she was when she first met Umi. She loves Natsu and Umi, and enjoyed being a trio at first, but ultimately doesn't want to be Umi's mom. Especially not with the spectre and mention of Mizuki looming over everything, when Yayoi never met and didn't know the woman; this "family" of three she thought she wanted doesn't feel like it belongs to her, and it makes her jealous, which she hates being. So she declines becoming Umi's mom in any official sense and tearfully breaks up with Natsu in epsiode 9, admitting that what she truly wants (a relationship with just her and Natsu) is not possible. And it's so painful for them both, and they don't fault each other at all, because in order to be happy Yayoi HAS to choose herself, and Natsu HAS to choose Umi. So much meat to chew on as an actor, so much for Arimura to do, and she does it superbly.

 

And apparently, Yayoi unknowingly contributed to Umi being born in the first place. It's only revealed to the audience that at the last minute, what changed Mizuki's mind about having an abortion was the entry Yayoi had written in the clinic's "thoughts and feelings book" (coincidentally they visited the same women's health clinic for their procedures). Yayoi's entry expresses her guilt about having an abortion and her frustration at not having the support from her then-boyfriend and her mom that would've enabled her to make a different choice. She knows it's the best decision for her situation at that time, but she doesn't want other women to follow what others say and ignore what they really want like she did. Women should decide for themselves, and make the choice that will make them happiest. Reading this made Mizuki realize that what would make her happiest was keeping her child, even if it meant letting Natsu go. 

Honorable Mention: What Comes After Love - Coupang Play, 2024

Based on a 2005 novel of the same name co-written by Gong Ji-Young and Tsuji Hitonari, 'What Comes After Love' is technically a K-drama, but since it's another bilingual show set between Tokyo and Seoul about a Japanese person and a Korean person falling for each other (similar to 'Eye Love You'), I decided to include it here. I've also never forgotten the impression Sakaguchi Kentaro left on me in 'Soshite, Ikiru' and was eager to watch him work again. Contrary to the pairing in 'Eye Love You,' this time the people falling in love are a Korean woman and a Japanese man.

In the spring of 2019, an aimless but optimistic college grad and musician named Hong (Lee Se-young) moves from South Korea to Japan to try living on her own for the first time, taking her fellow Korean friend up on her offer to split the rent. Upon arrival at her new home station near Inokashira Park, she runs into Jungo (Sakaguchi Kentaro), who helps her get her luggage unstuck from an exit ticket gate, takes a picture of Hong and her friend together per their request, and bids them goodbye. Hong and Jungo meet again while both vying for a job at a ramen shop, and the two see each other every day due to Jungo working at a nearby food truck and them both volunteering for their neighborhood business association's clean-up crew. Aside from their mutual attraction, they bond over a shared love of literature: as the eldest daughter of a renowned Korean-Japanese interpreter/translator Hong has enrolled in Japanese classes at a local university with plans to pursue a graduate degree in literature, while Jungo is already a literature graduate student who dreams of publishing his own novel one day. After they start dating Hong moves in with Jungo, and the lovers give each other cognate nicknames in their respective languages; Jungo calls Hong "Beni" and Hong calls Jungo "Yun-o." 

Unfortunately, as Jungo becomes increasingly absent due to his multiple jobs, the isolation of being emotionally neglected in a foreign country while her family faces financial and health struggles back home becomes too much for Hong (plus, her best friend had already moved back to Korea). So she leaves a parting letter for Jungo before moving back to Seoul in the middle of the night. By 2024 (the present), Hong has thrown herself into her career as a director at her father's publishing/translation company and is unenthusiastically engaged to a doctor and longtime friend. Of course, when she's required to assist one of her subordinates in picking up a Japanese author client named "Sasae Hikari" from the airport to promote his new book in Korea, "Sasae Hikari" turns out to be none other than Jungo. (The novel he's promoting has the same title as this K-drama. It's a fictionalized version of their relationship, with reflections on where he went wrong, written in hopes that she'd read it and understand why he so regrettably fumbled their relationship the way he did.) Jungo tries multiple times to speak with Hong privately, and Hong avoids him like the plague. Meanwhile, Hong drags her feet on wedding planning and Dr. Rebound notices. Meanwhile, Jungo's literary agent Kanna (my girl Nakamura Anne from 'Kikazaru Koi' and so many other things) unexpectedly joins him on this promotional trip; Kanna and Jungo dated before he met Hong, and Kanna wants that old thang back. 

Thematically, this K-drama is very reminiscent of Hanataba Mitai na Koi wo Shita, one of the JFF+ (now JFF Theater) online film festival selections I watched last year. Both productions feature a passionate relationship between two university students going sour, when the boyfriend gets so engrossed with working to provide for himself and his girlfriend that he doesn't have time to be present or attentive anymore. Both productions also philosophize about what love is and what it means. When Hong breaks up with Jungo, she laments that no love stays the same or lasts forever, and in the present she still assumes that Jungo's love for her lessened (that he stopped caring about her), because how else did he not notice how lonely she was? But Jungo insists that his love for her never changed. Answering the titular question "What comes after love?" during one of his book events in Korea, Jungo muses that one only truly understands what love means after the love (the relationship) has ended. So in a way, regret is inevitable for people who love; the deeper the love, the deeper the regret when it's over, and he feels so much regret now precisely because he loved and still loves Hong so much, not because his love waned. The final episode further emphasizes that no love is meaningless, that love is a blessing no matter what kind it is or how long it lasts. Hong and Jungo even have a moment to finally sit down and talk the night before he's set to leave Seoul, where he apologizes to her for not taking her loneliness seriously, and she (having finally read his book for herself) thanks him for loving her during that time and writing a book about what they had. This seems to be the end of their relationship, with both prepared to leave each other alone after having made peace with one another (a similar fate to that of the Hanabata Mitai couple). That is, until Jungo demonstrates one last time that he's unwilling to give up on them. I won't spoil how they get back together, but I respect this show for preparing the audience to accept either conclusion. I doubly respect this show for its stunningly tender and yearning end credit song, "Closer than the stars" by Fromm. Even as someone who's never known romantic love, the song almost (only almost!) made me cry. 

 

Getting back to the J-dramas, if I had to choose my favorite between 'Otto no Katei' and 'Umi no Hajimari', I'd have to admit that while the latter is better written, the former is my favorite because of all the mess, the scandal, and how willing the show is to take it there, you know? Off I go to find more Japanese film and television to review, and hopefully it won't take me another nine months to publish my next edition of The J-Drama Drop!

The J-Drama Drop #34 (Part 2)

Part 1 of this edition of The J-Drama Drop focused on the two dramas I've watched since November, plus an honorable mention "just for me" film. As promised, for part 2 I'm bringing you all the selections I watched from Japanese Film Festival Online 2024, presented by JFF+. (This particular festival was held in June and July, before JFF+ rebranded as JFF Theater and made a new set of films available on August 1st.) Here are the seven films I was most interested in, in the order that I watched them.

ウェディング・ハイ (Wedding High) - 2022

 

A young couple named Haruka and Akihito are currently planning their wedding two years after meeting at work. Akihito (Nakamura Tomoya from 'Nagi no Oitoma') thinks the endless planning decisions and fanfare are unnecessary and cares more about spending his life with Haruka than having a wedding at all, but he feigns enthusiasm to avoid being the stereotypical Japanese husband whose apathy toward the wedding leads to lasting discord within the marriage. With another wedding scheduled to use the banquet hall after this couple, the lead wedding planner (Shinohara Ryouko from 'Silent') strategizes with them, her team, and the attendees scheduled to speak or perform on how to condense all their contributions into one hour. This becomes necessary after certain individuals take up too much time making the wedding reception about themselves. This includes Akihito's boss, a man disgraced at work and at home for cheating on his wife with a sex worker, who spends months studying comedy to prepare a speech that will redeem him; Akihito's TV director friend, who feels artistically stifled in his career and uses the carte blanche he's been given for the wedding video to make the Russian-inspired dramatic film of his dreams; and Haruka's boss, used to being the office clown wherever he goes, who turns his toast into a comedy set so as not to feel upstaged by Akihito's boss.

 

'Wedding High' is a well-paced romp, with multiple detours to explore various characters' motivations. My only criticism is that it could have been 20-30 minutes shorter if it weren't for the extended gag at the end that reveals how Haruka's college ex Yuya (Iwata Takanori from 'Kingyo Tsuma') tries to sabotage the wedding but ends up helping it go off without a hitch instead. (He has convinced himself that Haruka is having an arranged marriage and feels he must crash it to rescue her and steal her back, but keeps missing his chance to interrupt the reception. Toward the end of the film, sooo much time is spent on him chasing down a random petty criminal who has stolen the goshuugi gift money envelopes that guests have brought to the wedding, and it bores more than it pays off.) Sure, Yuya does the right thing by returning the gift money and leaving without making his presence known once he sees how happy Haruka is with Akihito. Sure, it's a relief to see a scorned and self-absorbed ex-boyfriend not follow through on his scumbag intentions. But it all just went on way too long. Maybe that sort of subplot is an aspect of Japanese comedic structure that I'm simply not aware of.

マイ・ブロークン・マリコ (My Broken Mariko) - 2022

 

Based on a manga of the same name. 'My Broken Mariko' opens with a twenty-something named Tomoyo who works an awful sales job (Nagano Mei from 'Unicorn ni Notte') finding out on the news, while eating at a restaurant during her lunch break, that her best friend since childhood has jumped from her apartment window to her death. This friend, the titular Mariko, was physically and sexually abused by her father her whole life, until she moved out on her own and was abused by subsequent boyfriends as well. At a loss for what to do, Tomoyo goes to the apartment Mariko grew up in planning to stab Mariko's father, but after confronting him for daring to mourn the daughter he abused, Tomoyo steals Mariko's ashes and escapes out of a window. She then takes the ashes with her on a spontaneous trip to the (fictional) Marigaoka Cape, due to the place's similarity to Mariko's name and the fact that the pair had always wanted to go to a beach together but never did. After getting robbed upon arrival, Tomoyo meets a mysterious man her age (Kubota Masataka from 'Unnatural') who gives her money to help her get by, and periodically checks on her because he empathizes with her despair. 

 

Obviously I would advise anyone who has experienced abuse, self-harm, or suicidal ideations to approach this film with caution. As someone who has experienced all three, I found 'My Broken Mariko' to be an incredibly honest display of the struggle to find the will to live amidst loss, and amidst the awareness that there's no promise life will get any better. There's hopelessness, and then there's having to take the next step beyond hopelessness, and for Mariko and Tomoyo that step looks significantly different.

メタモルフォーゼの縁側 (Metamorphose no Engawa/BL Metamorphosis) - 2022

Based on a manga of the same name. Two years after the death of her husband, an elderly calligraphy (shodou) instructor named Yuki walks directly from the memorial service to a bookstore, where she finds gay manga (more commonly known as "Boys' Love" or BL manga) where the cookbooks she's looking for used to be. A clerk tells her the section contains "manga", but doesn't specify what genre. So when Yuki haphazardly starts browsing and decides to buy volume 1 of a young adult BL series called "I Only Want to Be Looking at You" ("Kimi no Koto Dake Miteitai"), purely because she thinks the drawings are beautiful, she doesn't realize it's a gay love story until she reaches the end of that volume later on. (Note: This is a real manga series that got its own live-action miniseries adaptation released the same year that 'BL Metamorphosis' was released. Both are directed by Kariyama Shunsuke.) The other clerk, a high school student named Urara who rings Yuki up (played by Ashida Mana), is shocked and confused by Yuki's purchase but doesn't comment on it; she recognizes the series because she herself has a copy among her beloved hidden BL stash at home. Yuki keeps returning to the bookstore to buy successive volumes because, even though she had no idea BL was so popular and she feels too old to be so excited about it, she must keep reading because she wants to support the characters' love. Once she realizes that Urara reads BL too, they bond over being mutual fans, and meet outside of the bookstore (mainly at cafes and Yuki's large house) to talk about "Kimi no Koto Dake Miteitai" and other series that Urara recommends. As Urara expands Yuki's BL knowledge to help distract from her grief and her health concerns, Yuki gives Urara the confidence and resources she needs to create her own original manga.

 

I've known that most readers of BL manga in Japan are women ever since I watched Christiane Amanpour's 'Sex & Love Around the World' docuseries back when it initially was streaming on Netflix years ago. And while I never got into Japanese manga in general (the black and white newspaper comic-eque style never clicked with me), I have been an avid reader of online BL "manhwa" (the Korean, full-color, smutty kind) since around 2019. So the lead characters of 'BL Metamorphosis' being two female readers, albeit with a massive age gap between them, did not surprise me. And their ability to form an intergenerational friendship over such an unexpected common interest is what makes this film so wholesome! I also want to note that while I don't recall watching anything Ashida Mana has appeared in before, I do remember how she used to be EVERYWHERE when she was a child actress in her single digit years, so it's reassuring to see her career still going. (She was 17 going on 18 when this film premiered in 2022.) I always wonder if young actors in her position get burned out, but she doesn't seem to have that problem.

線は、僕を描く (Sen wa, Boku wo Egaku/The Lines That Define Me) - 2022

While volunteering to help set up for a local art event, a passionless law student named Sousuke (my gorgeous gorgeous boy Yokohama Ryuusei from 'Kikazaru Koi'!) is moved to tears by an ink wash painting (suibokuga) that's on display. At lunch, he serendipitously meets a suibokuga master named Kozan, and gets roped into helping set up for Kozan's live painting performance that same day. Sousuke is mesmerized by Kozan's performance, and at the end Kozan invites him to be his apprentice. Sousuke visits Kozan's house a few days later to politely decline becoming his "apprentice", but Kozan won't have it and insists that Sousuke be his "student" instead; he believes Sousuke has potential and wants to teach him how to paint. Sousuke also meets Kozan's granddaughter/apprentice Chiaki, and learns that the painting he was moved to tears by at the beginning of the film was hers. Whereas Chiaki has genius and technical skill, Kozan is more drawn to the emotionality in Sousuke's work (newbie though he might be). So even though Chiaki and gramps live and paint in the same house, in addition to mentoring Sousuke in their own ways, they don't get along with each other due to artistic differences and what she regards as a lack of guidance, acknowledgement, and proper instruction from Kozan. Sousuke isn't sure if he's suited for suibokuga at all, but he keeps practicing because this is the first time he's felt so much as a whiff of passion about anything since his family died in a flood.

 

They somehow made an art film feel like a sports film (especially during the live painting scenes), and I was thoroughly entertained while also learning about the craft of suibokuga at the same time! Besides Yokohama Ryuusei's face and eyelashes, what also endeared me to 'The Lines that Define Me' was its similarity to other films from this festival. Like 'My Broken Mariko', this film features a twenty-something finding out about a loved one's death from the news. But on a brighter note, like 'BL Metamorphosis' this story is partially about bridging the gap between young and old via shared interests, with the old character being a master of a traditional Japanese art form who also lives and works in a huge traditional Japanese house.

そばかす (Freckles/I Am What I Am) - 2022

 

After dropping out of music school because she felt she couldn't hack it, Kasumi (Miura Toko from the 2021 film 'Drive My Car') works at a call center and has moved back to her seaside hometown to live with her family. This relatively laid-back family home includes her depressive dad with whom she's very close, her selectively high-strung mother, and her quiet but frank and delightfully shady grandmother, with frequent visits from her pregnant younger sister and the sister's "nice guy" cheater of a husband. Kasumi's mom can't bear the fact that Kasumi is 30 and doesn't even have a boyfriend, so she tricks Kasumi into attending a formal arranged marriage meeting with a man and his own mother also present. (Kasumi is asexual but has not arrived at this word yet, and nobody seems to believe her when she says she doesn't experience having any sexual or romantic feelings toward anyone.) The two singletons establish an easy friendship once they discover that they both don't care about love or marriage, and that they had met previously at the ramen restaurant the man cooks at. But he later ruins the friendship by falling in love with Kasumi, trying to ambush-kiss her, and then treating her like a freak when she explains her asexuality to him. More people pass in and out of Kasumi's life, as she runs into both a gay former classmate who gets her a job working with him at a daycare, and another former classmate named Maho (Maeda Atusko from the lesbian parenting episode of 'Modern Love Tokyo') who helps Kasumi create an asexual feminist retelling of "Cinderella" for Kasumi's class. (This retelling is done through paper theater or kamishibai, yet another traditional Japanese art form. It seems the JFF+ 2024 selection committee had a theme in mind, which I appreciate if that's the case.) However, after making plans to move in with Kasumi, the rebellious politician's daughter and former porn star that is Maho yields to convention by getting married and moving back to Tokyo, and Kasumi never sees her again. But all is not for naught, as their kamishibai project makes a new co-worker feel secure enough in his own asexuality to sense kinship with Kasumi and attempt to become friends.

 

This film is definitely more about character development than what may or may not be achieved within the plot, and since I've just summarized most of the plot, I don't have much else to say about 'I Am What I Am' except this. Y'all know I've got a soft spot for stories about women in their 20s and 30s floundering in life (see 'Nagisa no Oitoma', 'Gunjou Ryouiki', 'Prism', and 'My Second Aoharu' just to name a few). So this film was right up my alley!

ハケンアニメ (Haken Anime!/Anime Supremacy!) - 2022

 

Based on a light novel of the same name. This is a behind the scenes look at the countless people and skills required to make and promote anime series, specifically two series that are competing for ratings during the same coveted 5pm Saturday timeslot for kid-friendly programming. One series is helmed by Saito, a female newbie director who quit her public servant job to work in the anime industry seven years ago in order to "beat" her biggest inspiration, a similarly young but more experienced and renowned anime director named Oji. Oji's most recent hit anime resonated with Saito's difficult and lonely childhood growing up in public housing, even though she was already an adult when that anime aired. So now as a fellow director, Saito strives to be even better than Oji at reaching children like her. Fittingly, Saito's rival series is helmed by that very same Oji (Nakamura Tomoya from 'Wedding High', see the beginning of this review), a flighty person who often leaves his producer (Ono Machiko from 'Zekkyou') in a lurch trying to cover for his disappearances and stubborn demands. Saito is similarly wrangled and mentored by a producer who, though seemingly callous, is a ride-or-die regarding making her series a success from a production and promotional standpoint, while still aligning the final product as closely with Saito's vision as possible.

 

Anime opening and ending theme songs were my entry point into developing an interest in Japanese media, language, and culture, and although my interest in anime itself waned considerably in college, I was still thrilled by how high-stakes 'Haken Anime' makes everything seem and how much it reveals about the anime industry. It's also amusing to consider that the film seems to cover all parts of the anime production process... except for anime theme songs! Commissioning artists, recording the songs, providing feedback and requesting tweaks to make the song relevant to what the show and its opening or closing sequences are meant to achieve, etc. I was imagining there'd be a montage similar to Higedan's videos showing the making of "No Doubt" and "Pretender" for the 'Confidence Man JP' franchise. But alas. I suppose that process would've been too expensive to depict in 'Haken Anime'; the team behind it would've either had to pay for the rights to use existing music, or pay to create original music to accompany these two separate original anime series that they'd already spent who knows how much on creating solely for the purposes of this film. So I understand.

花束みたいな恋をした (Hanataba Mitai na Koi wo Shita/We Made a Beautiful Bouquet) - 2021

 

Kinu (Arimura Kasumi from 'Call Me Chihiro') and Mugi (Suda Masaki from '3-Nen A-Gumi' are a couple who start dating as 21-year-old college students in 2015, after they both miss the last train from Meidaimae station and proceed to spend the whole night together, mostly eating and walking and talking. During this pivotal night, in addition to numerous other commonalities, they bond over being the only two people who seem to spot and show sufficient awe for Oshii Mamoru (director of the original 1995 'Ghost in the Shell' anime film) at a restaurant, and over still carrying around tickets for the same concert they'd been looking forward to attending earlier that night but missed for their own respective reasons. They go from platonically sleeping at Mugi's place that night, to officially dating, to living together and adopting a cat within less than a year of dating, to witnessing each other's career challenges and personality shifts in the years to come. Despite initially having a peaceful life together where they always make time for each other and their mutual hobbies, they become misaligned as they succumb to parental and cultural pressures to "become normal", i.e. to be contributing members of society via the traditional workforce. This is especially so for Mugi, who forsakes what might've been a robust career as an illustrator for a demanding and conformist job in sales. With the passion and playfulness gradually disintegrating between them, they break up in 2019 after attending a friend's wedding. Most of the film is actually a lengthy flashback preceded by an opening scene set in 2020, when Kinu and Mugi clock each other in the same restaurant while they're each about to pester a younger couple about how they're listening to music wrong (similarly to how a stranger lectured Kinu and Mugi during their early days together). Which demonstrates that, even a year post-breakup when they're already dating other people, the impact of the years they spent together is indelible.

You might be surprised, as I was, to hear some surprisingly profound theories about love being presented in 'We Made a Beautiful Bouquet'. Theories about how the beginning of love is also the beginning of the end of that love, because all things end eventually. About how love has an expiration date because it's something raw, and even though a relationship may be meant to be, that doesn't mean it will last. About how even if a relationship doesn't last, that doesn't make it any less special or beautiful. Speaking of which, please accept the following play-by-play of Kinu and Mugi's break-up scene, because the heartbreak and maturity displayed are too stunning for me to keep to myself. After attending said friend's wedding and going on other mini-outings that same day, Kinu and Mugi find themselves back at the restaurant they used to frequent at the beginning of their relationship. Both want to break up on a high note at the end of a rare good day together, but once they actually start broaching the subject, Kinu's very straightforward about it whereas Mugi desperately and tearfully pleads to hold on. Then Kinu's crying too as she considers his offer to basically settle for each other, and they both sob while silently observing a young couple, sitting in the same booth they used to always sit in, mirroring how they were when first getting to know each other. And then Kinu runs out, Mugi follows her, and they're just standing outside holding each other and crying until they're calm enough to walk home. I kept a completely straight face during that entire scene (something-something depression, something-something emotional numbness), but believe me! If I could've wept the way I wanted to, I would've!

Before naming my favorites from this round, I have to commend what is now known as JFF Theater for putting together such engaging film festival selections this year. This is the most films that I've been interested enough to watch from them, in full, since the first round of JFF+ Independent Cinema (2022-2023)! They did an amazing job curating this year's films, and I am genuinely grateful.

Moving on to favorites, since I only watched two J-dramas this time, it's fairly easy for me to say that 'Eye Love You' wins over 'My Second Aoharu'. It delights my multilingual self, Chae Jong-hyeop makes the whole show flow, and it's simply fresher in my memory than 'My Second Aoharu' is. As for the seven JFF+ films I watched, I've narrowed them down to two favorites. While 'BL Metamorphosis' and 'I Am What I Am' are the most personally relevant to my own experiences, 'Anime Supremacy' is my favorite because I learned the most from it, and 'We Made a Beautiful Bouquet' is my other favorite because it's the one film from the bunch that I'm still feeling and thinking about the most. 

 

Thanks so much for reading both parts of this review! Now I'm off to find more Japanese stuff to watch and write about!

The J-Drama Drop #34 (Part 1)

Not gonna lie, I'm feeling unprecedented levels of weird about my existence and my writing right now, but I've also been itching to write reviews again, so here I am! This round of The J-Drama Drop will be a two-parter, because I went from not having enough material to write about when I started watching one J-drama in November, to finding another J-drama I liked and also watching a bunch of films from Japanese Film Festival Online (JFF+) as 2024 progressed, to just recently finishing that second J-drama in August. (And by recently I mean Monday, as in four days ago.) So part 1 of this review will cover those two J-dramas (both of which are odd couple romantic comedies!), plus an honorable mention film about teen moms. Part 2 of this review will cover the JFF+ films.

 

マイ・セカンド・アオハル (My Second Aoharu/My Second Youth) - TBS, 2023

• 
  As a high school student in her hometown of Shizuoka, Sayako (Hirose Alice from 'Koi Nante, Honki de') initially wasn't interested in college because she figured she couldn't afford it, and because she felt a responsibility as the eldest of four children to help keep the family store afloat. Sayako's teacher helped her realize that she actually wanted to become an architect, but Sayako missed the university entrance exam when she got seriously injured on the way there. Still preferring not to be stuck in Shizuoka after high school graduation, she moved to Tokyo on a whim and worked for 11 years up to the present, just barely making ends meet with various non-permanent roles. But after a string of bad luck upon turning 30 (losing her wallet, her phone, and her office job, plus getting hit by a motorcyclist and seriously injured again while visiting Shizuoka), she's forced to move back in with her parents.
•  Fortunately, the 1,000,000 yen that the motorcyclist gives Sayako as a form of atonement (currently the equivalent of $6,700 USD but used to equal $10,000 USD) is just enough to cover the admission fee and first year of tuition for her university of choice. That money, in addition to an encounter with a surly yet uplifting young stranger sporting a baby face, prompts her to finally pursue her dream of going to college as a 30-year-old freshman. This is her "second youth" that the show title refers to, with aoharu being an alternative and more literal reading of the word seishun (青春) meaning youth. Upon admission, Sayako moves into a sharehouse for architecture undergrads called "Sagrada Familia", where that baby-faced stranger happens to live too. This stranger is Taku (Michieda Shunsuke from 'Haha ni Naru'), a design genius and secret lovechild who resents following in his rich and famous architect father's footsteps.
• After kissing in the sharehouse pool one night, Sayako and Taku agree to treat it like a one-off and act like it never happened so as not to disrupt their rapport as friends, but in the year to follow their feelings for each other only intensify. When Sayako tries to move out (because the sharehouse has a rule about kicking out housemates who date each other), Taku confronts her about it, they admit their feelings, and then they have sex. After the other housemates find out, the no-dating rule is eventually lifted. Nonetheless, Sayako and Taku reluctantly break up later when Taku receives a job offer in Switzerland; she doesn't want to be his excuse to miss out on this opportunity, and he doesn't want to keep her waiting on him when she could be progressing in her own career and starting a family with someone else. As the next two years pass, will Sayako and Taku get back together? And more importantly, despite being perceived as too old and unskilled for her dreams, will Sayako be able to establish herself as a professional architect like she's always wanted?
  

Meh: Full disclosure, it's literally been six months since I finished this series, so my notes and my memory may not be serving me well in this moment. But I honestly can't think of anything I genuinely dislike about this show. It's chill. It's cute but also grown. It taught me a few things about the field of architecture. No real complaints.

Better: I appreciate how 'My Second Aoharu' conveys the idea that architecture can comprise many different kinds of projects, from utilitarian and commonplace to artful and innovative, and that there's a difference between being able to design something new from scratch versus being able to renovate or revitalize something while still respecting its original use, structure, and integrity. Sayako gradually discovers that while she kinda sucks at designing from scratch, she thrives at improving upon what's already been built, which helps guide her toward what she wants to specialize in career-wise.

 

Speaking of Sayako, while I could imagine some viewers criticizing Hirose Alice's performance as "cringe" or too much, I was endlessly amused by her her ability to play such an awkward character and be unafraid of making ridiculous motions or facial expressions to achieve that. Plus switching so abruptly between that and acting normal, between light and serious, between inspired and devastated. Her range of expression is wide, believable, and well-timed.

 

I also couldn't help but notice that, similar to 'Unicorn ni Notte', this show tries to throw in some progressive representation here and there. There's an outspoken marginally plus size housemate (played by Yumena Yanai whom I follow on Instagram!) who wears a different wig every day, perhaps even in every scene she's in, and she's fabulous! I laughed at the randomness of her wig colors and styles, but the size of her body was never made to be a joke, and that was a relief. There's another housemate who's revealed to be gay (or at least somewhere on the queer spectrum) when he explains to Sayako that he initially had to move out of his parents' house because they would antagonize him for wearing makeup and even threw his makeup collection away.

 

Best: Thank GOODNESS that this older woman/younger man age gap relationship isn't as unsettling as the one portrayed in 'Shijuu kara'! I can appreciate a J-drama being a little different, taking some swings, and in hindsight I'm pretty sure that that show was trying to make viewers uncomfortable on purpose. I can appreciate weirdness that's intentional! But despite being a legal adult, the baby-faced young man in 'Shijuu kara' looked too much like an actual child for me to not be a little scarred for life from watching that show (no shade to Itagaki Rihito's performance, I'm sure he was doing his best). Conversely, Michieda Shunsuke as Taku reads much less like "child" and more like "moody but mature twenty-something who happens to have boyish charm", which makes a world of difference.

Eye Love You - TBS/Netflix, 2024

• 
  Twelve years ago, when Yuri went sea otter watching with her dad and almost drowned trying to save the otters from an oil leak, she came away from the accident with the ability to hear people's thoughts (心の声, kokoro no koe, "the voice of their hearts") when she makes eye contact with them. Hence the show's title, 'Eye Love You'. This becomes the only way she can communicate with her father (who had a stroke after saving her from drowning), because the injuries he sustained have left him alert but immobile in a hospital bed, with a permanent tracheotomy and an inability to speak.
• Today, Yuri is the CEO of an eco-friendly company called Dolce & Chocolat which sells chocolate and coffee produced from recycled cacao husks. Her gift of telepathy is advantageous for anticipating customers' needs (making her business successful so she can afford her father's long-term care), but she is still notoriously reluctant to open up to people and has been unlucky in love. She founded this company with her no-nonsense best friend from college, Hanaoka, who is secretly in love with her, but in this series Yuri's love interest is actually a Korean wildlife conservation grad student named Tae-o (Chae Jong-hyeop). Tae-o is also a part-time food delivery person, and Yuri repeatedly encounters him when he delivers Korean food to her apartment. Like Yuri, he's also a foodie and a sea otter obsessive, and his expertise in environmental issues leads him to work at Dolce & Chocolat post-graduation. (Tae-o is initially recruited by Hanaoka without Yuri's knowledge, because Hanaoka handles hiring.) Yuri tries to keep things professional but Tae-o has already declared his feelings for her and is determined to woo her, so they eventually find a way to date discretely.
  
• Yuri can hear Tae-o's thoughts but not understand them because she only speaks Japanese, meanwhile Tae-o speaks Korean, Japanese, and English. But rather than linguistic or cultural differences, what really threatens to tear them apart is the controversy surrounding Yuri's gift. Yuri is still scarred by the shame and rejection she faced in high school when she told her first and only boyfriend about her gift, and she'd rather find a way to relinquish her gift (and painfully risk never communicating with her father again) than jeopardize her relationship with Tae-o by telling him her truth. As for Tae-o, he receives repeated warnings about Yuri from two former neighbors from his childhood in Seoul: his grad school mentor and father figure (a professor who moved Tae-o to Japan with him when Tae-o's mother died), and a Korean Dolce & Chocolat investor who has the same gift as Yuri. This investor lady, named Ha Na, previously published a picture book about how people with their gift are cursed to be alone forever, because whoever they fall in love with will die. Believing this folklore to be true, the professor and Ha Na pressure Tae-o to break up with Yuri. Can these cross-cultural lovers find a way to stay together without Tae-o risking death or Yuri losing what makes her special?
  

Meh:  *Spoiler alert!* I was wondering how the show was going to resolve this dilemma, and while the resolution does allow Yuri and Tae-o to continue their relationship as they are, it also makes the entire dilemma seem like an overinflated waste of time. Because the whole thing about Yuri being cursed and Tae-o being in danger isn't even true! This "conflict" really just amounts to Ha Na projecting her grief onto everyone else (via the picture book and her direct attempts to intervene between Yuri and Tae-o), because she blamed herself for her college boyfriend's sudden death. All this, instead of asking his family or checking his medical records herself to see that he died from coronary artery disease! How is Hanaoka, a Japanese man who has only a business relationship with Ha Na and presumably no access to the Korean healthcare system, the one to explain this to her at the end of the series? It makes no sense to me.

 

Better: Such a strong first episode! If nothing else, Tae-o may be silly but he's also DIRECT, so by the end of episode 1 he's already decided he likes Yuri romantically and is asking her if she likes him too. And then for the show to turn around and reveal him to be the new intern at Yuri's company at the very last minute of that episode? Setting the stakes early and clearly. Bravo!

 

And how adorable are the handwritten notes that Yuri (as a customer) and Tae-o (as a delivery person) leave for each other outside Yuri's door? Tae-o even draws little cartoonish sea otters on the ones he leaves for her! The notes start with him recommending Korean restaurants and dishes that are better than what she's initially ordering, then progress to more. This mode of communication was especially endearing to me because I started watching 'Eye Love You' in the midst of finishing a romance novel called The Neighbor Favor, where a couple literally falls in love via email, before falling in love again in person as neighbors.

 

On a separate but related note, I respect how mature Hanaoka is about accepting that he's not the one for Yuri. He clocks that Yuri and Tae-o have something going on by episode 4, and after getting over whatever initial jealousy he feels, he's surprisingly supportive. Yuri doesn't even learn of his feelings for her until she reads his mind while he's in the middle of encouraging her to date Tae-o. (They're alone in her office, and Hanaoka points out that Dolce & Chocolat doesn't have a non-fraternization policy, subtly acknowledging that nearly everyone in the office knows that Yuri and Tae-o fancy each other and that it's fine if she wants to date Tae-o. At the same time, she hears him mentally trying to convince himself that he's okay with letting her go despite having always loved her.) Then in episode 6, at the end of a Hokkaido business trip when Hanaoka and Yuri are about to leave for Tokyo ahead of Tae-o (because Tae-o has distanced himself from Yuri, who's not ready to admit that she wants him as much as he wants her), Hanaoka is the one urging Yuri to stay and mend things with Tae-o before returning to Tokyo. As a manager it's his job to properly assess situations, and even when it comes to his unrequited love, Hanaoka is secure enough to accept the reality that Yuri will not love him back, and gracefully step aside so she can be happy with someone else. It takes so much self-awareness to quietly bow out like that, and even though he might remain in love with Yuri for a long time, he knows that's his own problem to deal with.

 

Best: Chae Jong-hyeop. Without a doubt. He not only has to act in two languages (mostly Japanese) in addition to his native Korean, but he has to make his charisma shine through in every single scene, no matter what language he's speaking. And he nails it! I started watching 'Eye Love You' for its premise alone, but I stuck around for Chae Jong-hyeop. My introduction to him (and my only other frame of reference for his acting) was the 2023 K-drama 'Castaway Diva', where he played a guarded but caring TV producer living under a false name after escaping from his abusive father. His performance in that was wonderful, but for his sake I was relieved to see him play a more carefree love interest this time.

 

I can only speak for myself, but this show must be a DREAM for linguists and other multilingual people like me! There's so much meat to intellectually chew on here! So much bilingual Japanese-Korean conversation happening, so many translation tools and methods being used! The fact that Yuri can't understand Tae-o's thoughts because he supposedly only thinks in Korean is such an interesting choice to make narratively because... does Tae-o not think out what he's going to say in Japanese before or as he speaks to her? I know it's not just me who does that when I'm speaking my other languages. Perhaps allowing Tae-o to think in multiple languages would complicate the show's premise too much and I'm overthinking this aspect of it, but it's still fascinating to consider what assertion or assumption the show might be making about people's (in)ability to think in more than one language. That assertion/assumption feels false to me, but it's still fun to think about. Speaking of Tae-o, even the subtitles provided for his character are intentional! I watched this show on Netflix, and for both the English and Japanese versions with subtitles (I checked), the show is selective with what Korean dialogue or voiceover is translated and what isn't. Most of Tae-o's thoughts go transcribed and untranslated, so just like Yuri viewers are left to guess the meaning based on the context of the scenes, or based on whatever Korean comprehension they may have (of which I only have a smattering from 15 years of watching K-dramas).

And I'm sure 'Eye Love You' is a treat for folklorists too, because the show lays out some intriguing (even if slightly underdeveloped) threads about how myths are made/created/passed on, while linking ancient Ainu legends in Hokkaido with Ha Na's book in Seoul and Yuri's own experience in Tokyo.

Lastly, I was so touched by the show's use of coffee and chocolate as metaphors for our ability to respond to life by making situations bitter or sweet, depending on the choices we make and the perspectives we take. This is something that Yuri's dad (who used to be a chef) taught her as a child when he would serve her coffee and chocolate together at his restaurant, and in adulthood it remains a guiding principle that Yuri references in her personal life and her business. (Coffee and chocolate come from different plants, but cacao can still be used to make both, which Yuri's company does.)

Honorable Mention: 朝が来る (Asa ga Kuru/Morning Comes/True Mothers) - 2020

 

I watched this film on Kanopy on a whim back in March, and didn't take any notes because this was going to be one of those "just for me" watches. But after watching so many Japanese films through JFF+ that I plan to tackle in part 2 of this review, I feel it necessary not to leave this one out. In 'True Mothers', the Kuriharas are a couple who dealt with fertility issues before adopting a newborn son named Asato, and who are dealing with Asato's alleged behavioral issues at school now, when they're suddenly called and then visited by a disheveled young woman claiming to be the little boy's birth mother Hikari. At first she claims to want her son back, and then threatens to expose the fact that Asato isn't their biological son if they don't give her money. The Kuriaharas stand firm, and don't believe that she is who she says.

 

I needed to include 'True Mothers' in this review because I am still enthralled by how director Naomi Kawase plays with perspective! You think the film is going to be about this couple handling the unfair nuisance and intrusion of this young woman. But then most of the film turns out to be a flashback of Hikari's life: how she was impregnated by her very first boyfriend at 14, how her reputation-obsessed family quietly shuffled her away to a temporary home for expecting and ill-equipped teen moms in Hiroshima, how she struggled to survive on her own in Tokyo after having Asato and dropping out of school and escaping her family for good, and what led her to reach out to the Kuriharas now. This switcheroo reminds me so much of Kiana Davenport's novel Song of the Exile, which uses an international wartime romance as a cover for a more excruciating and confrontational story about "comfort women" being victimized by imperial Japanese forces during World War II, and the ongoing colonization of Hawaii as U.S. statehood loomed. I also felt similarly okey-doked (in the best way) by Bernice McFadden's novel Nowhere Is a Place, where an estranged mother-daughter road trip story transitions into a detailed history of the impact slavery and assault have had on generations of women in their family. But I digress. My point is that, of course the Kuriharas don't recognize Hikari as the quiet, polite, innocent-looking girl they met when they first adopted Asato, because life has been beating Hikari's behind ever since then! Her approaching them might be impulsive and self-centered, but she's still in desperate need of their compassion.

I've still got a bunch of other films to talk about! Check out part 2 of this review here!