Sometimes you have to look under rocks

Sometimes it can be tough to find certain dramas that, due to the lack of votes, don't make it to the top-rated lists. This can cause many exceptional stories to go completely unnoticed. My personal way of discovering them is by recalling the names of my most beloved actors or actresses from certain dramas and exploring their filmography. I really enjoyed watching 'In This Corner of the World,' and I was particularly impressed by Machiko Ono's portrayal of Keiko, Suzu's sister-in-law. Despite her numerous awards and contributions to the Japanese film industry, Ono has often been overshadowed by her peers.

One of the most unnoticed Japanese dramas of the past year is starred by one of the most overlooked actresses in the industry and one of the most overlooked actors as well (Kenichi Takito). I'm referring, obviously, to 'Grace no Rireki' or Grace’s Tracks.

What was supposed to be a farewell trip from Kikuo to his wife Minako tragically ends in a road accident in the French Provence, leaving Kikuo coping with the loss of his beloved wife. In about fifteen minutes, we witness the protagonist's final moments. Devastated by what has happened, Kikuo receives an unexpected visit from a probate attorney who claims to be the representative of his late wife. This attorney, in addition to conveying certain sensitive information about Minako, unknown to Kikuo, also delivers her last will: her treasured Honda S-Hachi. Kikuo doesn’t know how to drive, so he invests his time after work to get a driving license.

With the license in hand and holidays ahead, Kikuo decides to visit his in-laws and spend a few days with them. Checking the GPS navigation history, Kikuo is surprised to see tracks corresponding to dates when his wife was supposed to be in France. The woman of his life, whose image was clear, becomes a mystery. Changing his plans, Kikuo decides to follow the same route his wife took two months earlier.

But, 'spoiler', the possible infidelity mentioned in the first two episodes is not the leitmotif of the plot, and it is necessary to make it clear (the series itself does it). Otherwise, the plot would be misunderstood, and I don't want to confuse you: Grace no Rireki is the life journey of Kikuo and Minako. The story interweaves Kikuo's present moment with Minako's past to slowly merge both stories into one. While for Kikuo it is the duel for the woman who won't be coming back for Minako is the gift of a life that is fading away. But again, don't confuse about this: Grace no Rireki is a heartwarming, mature and well-written story.

As Kikuo drives from one destination to another, he encounters his past and the people who are a part of it, and at the same time he makes friends with others who accompany him on part of the journey and who tell him things about his wife, her car and himself. The very slow-paced episodes help to create a rhythm of silences and conversations, allowing us to enjoy the rice fields of Nagano, the canals of Omihachiman or the vastness of Lake Biwa. The love between Kikuo and Minako transcends life and death, it is a solemn feeling that belongs only to the two of them and is remarkably realised.

Grace no Rireki, directed by the same author as the adapted novel, is a masterpiece and a story that I will return to whenever I need to. It is the gift that Kikuo and Minako have given me, and it will last forever.

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In This Corner of MyDramaList

A few months ago, I watched the animated adaptation of the manga 'In This Corner of the World,' and I was certainly impressed. I didn't expect much more than another film about WWII in Japan, but it turned out to be quite different. I enjoyed it so much that I ended up buying a double volume of the original work by Fumiyo Kouno. I also checked out the voices behind each character. The protagonist, Suzu, was voiced by Rena Nōnen, who also voiced Haru in the stop-motion series 'Pokemon Concierge.' This girl, who also participates in dubbing sporadically, is an actress; in fact, she starred in one of the most successful asadoras of the past decade: ‘Amachan’ (2013). Amachan was a total discovery, and in less than a couple of weeks, I had already said goodbye to Aki Amano. Depressed by the existential void that drama caused in me, I was checking this website’s lists until I stumbled upon the live-action adaptation of In This Corner of the World. The circle had closed.

The story of In This Corner of the World, in its nine episodes, takes us to Hiroshima, yet not the Hiroshima from 1945, but to the prefecture nowadays. This is one of the main differences regarding the original work, as the footage has been extended and new scenes have been added that fit perfectly with what has already been told. Kayo, a young girl tired of her current life, decides to move to the coastal city of Kure, where previously she had met up with an elderly woman who had helped her dispel the doubts and fears that usually tormented her. This woman, Setsuko, stokes Kayo’s inner flame through stories from her mother, Suzu-san. In the house at the top of the slope, where Suzu did her daily chores, Kayo fantasizes about the life during that time. In this way, memories of that period are evoked—some heartwarming, while others are of deep pain.

The life of Suzu-san, throughout the episodes, is divided into a first stage which covers her childhood and first days of her arranged marriage with her husband, Shusaku, in Hojo’s residence, until the end of war roughest events, including, obviously, the devastation and consequences caused by atomic bombs. But the main difference, not only comparingly with Western war-themed cinema, but also in relation with other films that narrate the experience from the perspective of the weaker, which is the case in ‘Firefly Graveyard’ (1988), is the idea of family bond and emotional values joined in the most absolute daily life, something that is inherently Japanese. So, the calmly days and sugar caramels will give way to grayer days and meager meals. But, independently of the events, the series reinforce the day-to-day idea of Suzu, her friends and family, in the most humble and human possible way. They were, after all, ignorant of the dimensions of what was coming in their way. Suzu is the representative of that innocence, kindness and naivety, values that little by little will crumble in the face of the cruelty to which the innocent and unaware people are subjected.

The adaptation, regard the source material, is a 1:1 copy, but adds the real component that only real people can convey. Honoka Matsumoto as Suzu is in a similar level to Non’s animated Suzu. I consider this the definitive and most satisfying version of this story, as well as featuring the music of young and unknown composer… Yeah, Joe Hisaishi.

Artifice and spectacularity are not needed to touch the heart, and this story demonstrates with great subtlety, respect, and care how to reach that corner of the world we call home.

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387 viewers

Sometimes I wonder who is behind the limited reach of Japanese dramas outside their own country. Perhaps Japanese TV channels are not interested in exporting their stories, or they fail to reach agreements with streaming platforms. This website hardly ever promotes Japanese dramas, yet you can find news about the marriage of two Korean actors or the imprisonment of a third one, neither of which is intrinsically related to films or series. Sites like Kissasian and its various counterparts don't help, as they often steal the altruistic work of fansubbers without crediting them, who then have to upload their work to overly protected websites like Drama-Otaku (thanks to fatemasubs for subbing this drama). However, I believe many people simply consume a lot of mediocre stories and then complain about Japanese works in general, calling them amateurish or saying 'Japanese dramas are always like that,' neglecting stories like Kazoku Dakara Aishitan Janakute, Aishita no ga Kazoku Datta, which fall into oblivion on MDL. The result is 387 viewers and 70 ratings in one year. It’s an absolute shame considering the quality and deep impact this drama has on the viewer. This impression grows stronger knowing that it is a true story about Nami Kishida and her family, although the series slightly changes the names. Nami, portrayed by Yuumi Kawai, is changed to Nanami, and the Kishida family becomes the Kishimoto family.

The story follows the daily adventures and misadventures of the Kishimoto family, led by Nanami Kishimoto, the older sister who looks after her mother, Hitomi, who is depressed after a life-or-death surgery that leaves her in a wheelchair, her brother Sota, diagnosed with Down’s Syndrome, and their grandmother Yoshiko, who will face age-related problems later in the series. Her father, Kosuke, died of a heart attack a few years ago. Under this pretext, it becomes clear that anyone’s life can change completely. At first, Nanami, driven by the innocence or naivety of a child, tries in the most honest and positive way to return to days that are unlikely to return. By the end of the fourth episode, she achieves her goal and brings new hope to her family, but life moves on and sometimes catches up with us in the worst way. When Nanami realises that there are no end credits for her story and unleashes the pain she’s been holding in for so long, she breaks down completely. The end of childhood gives way to a more realistic narrative, with its ups and downs, smiles and tears, exploring family dynamics, the limits and boundaries of each character, and mental health. The structure may be difficult to follow if you expect a more linear story, but like life itself, we move forward and backward in equal measure. Nanami’s emotional journey involves many returns to the beginning with all her problems.

In the end, all the family members come to accept their situation, gradually move on, and become independent, masters of their own lives. They are happy in their own way, because, as Nanami confesses to the illusion of her deceased father: 'Sota’s fine, Grandma’s fine, Mum’s not fine, and I’m not fine.' The story ends with the hope of forging a new path, perhaps reaching for the stars and beyond. The credits roll, but the life of the Kishimoto family continues, just as the Kishida family does in our reality.

I hope to see Yuumi Kawai more often in new productions because she is possibly one of the most promising actresses today.

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Episode 97 - 04:35

It's curious that the ending of my first asadora, Amachan, and the beginning of the second one, Okaeri Mone, align with an event that the first doesn't explore deeply enough, but which serves as the entry point for the protagonist in the second. I’m talking about the tsunami of 2011, one of the biggest natural disasters in recent Japanese history. Tireless Aki Amano (Non) passes the baton to the calmest Momone Nagaura (Kaya Kiyohara).

The tsunami marks the beginning of Okaeri Mone, as Mone leaves her home on Kesennuma Island, in Miyagi Prefecture (where Amachan also takes place), which was the epicentre of the tsunami. Mone moves to the mountains of Tome, where an old friend of her grandfather takes her under her wing and introduces her to the wood industry. From the very beginning, the series shows us how nature can be both lively and ferocious. In her new home, Mone meets Asaoka-san, a famous television forecaster who will change her life.

In the humble opinion of someone who has seen two asadoras, Okaeri Mone is one of the best NHK productions in this short TV series format. The journey of Mone, from her breakdown to her comeback to the island, is wonderfully well-written and brings the story to a satisfying conclusion, leaving nothing unsaid. The series maintains a distance from the upbeat clichés of this kind of stories and shows that even good people face difficult times.

Through deep dialogues and complex characters, Okaeri Mone unfolds the love and respect that Japanese people have for nature, as well as their resilience and the legacy that the elders pass on to the new generations. It also touches on themes such as loss, guilt, and the search for identity and purpose.

When a series excels in every aspect, only its virtues shine through. Okaeri Mone is undoubtedly an exceptional story.

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Japan's School of Rock

Japanese films of the 90s and early 2000s are very underrated, at least in my choices, as I keep jumping back and forth between the 50s and... 2010. While the classics are directed by the well-known and acclaimed Kurosawa, Ozu or Kobayashi, whose stories focus on the human condition in countless ways, at the end of the 90s a few names like Iwai, Nakashima or Sono began to appear. These filmmakers created new ‘experimental’ stories, drawing on the many influences imported from the West and others born in Japan itself, such as kawaii culture, animanga and video games. For a certain group of people, these films became cult classics. There was constant feedback of influences and interests between Japan and the West noticeable on the Japanese films from this period.

One of these films, Swing Girls, has become not only my favourite Japanese film, but one of my favourite films ever.

During the summer holidays, while a group of girls are wasting their time in tutored classes, Tomoko, one of these girls, watches through the window as the high school band goes to support the baseball team (perhaps for Koshien?). But just as they leave, the caterer arrives. Tomoko, who wants skip classes, suggests to the teacher that the rest of the class join her in taking lunch to them. After a rather eventful train journey, they deliver the food, which they had previously soiled and exposed to the heat of the Japanese summer. The whole group is food poisoned, and the only member who doesn't get sick because he hadn't eaten, blames them and forces them to take the place of his classmates. Tomoko and the girls take advantage of the situation to continue avoiding lessons, but gradually the music finds its way into their rebellious little hearts.

Swing Girls is literally a live-action adaptation of a school slice-of-life anime, but it's not as cringe-worthy as other films. It is a story of how students with no future, ostracized by their peers and teachers, prove that all it takes to succeed is a goal and enough confidence to achieve it. Moreover, these school stories emphasise living in the moment, because the last years of school life are also the last days of childhood. Entering university means the beginning of adulthood and, as we know, by Japanese standards this means absolute devotion to work and family.

The students stumble upon their passion in unexpected ways, and in almost two hours of footage we follow these girls as they go from teasing their classmates to devoting themselves entirely to music, ending up with a jazz orchestra that Damian Shazeru would have wanted for Wipurasshu. The film is always entertaining and fun, with a cheesy and cheeky humour. I loved this innocence and kindness that subtly surrounds the plot and the characters.

Swing Girls is simple, unassuming, and watching it makes me happy and puts a smile on my face from ear to ear.

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(─‿‿─)

I can say without fear of being mistaken that almost all Japanese dramas revolve around two main themes: family abandonment (in all its forms) and food. In films, it's common for someone to be dying of an incurable disease. While the first theme implies separation or abandonment towards a person, a group, or the family nucleus itself, the second implies the opposite: the birth of new bonds or the strengthening of existing ones.

For a country as rich in gastronomy as Japan, food serves as a second mother tongue—more native and deeply rooted in the essence of the Japanese people. Trying to replicate Japanese curry with tablets sold in supermarkets won't bring you any closer to understanding their culinary culture, unfortunately. There are tons of dramas and films centred around food: from classics like ‘Tampopo’ to more recent shows like ‘Shinya Shokudo’. These stories, even though they consider food as the main point of the narrative and character development, vary completely in genres: While 'Tampopo' defines itself as a 'noodle western', films like 'Little Forest' take a more contemplative approach. Food also jumps back and forth between media; a few months ago, I read the novel 'The Kamogawa Food Detectives', which is set in a restaurant/detective agency that recreates dishes from the past through the testimony of customers.

Is it possible to fall in love through food? Well, according to otaku knowledge, Japanese women give chocolate to the men they love on Valentine's Day, and if the men reciprocate their feelings, they return the gesture on White Day a month later. Technically, the answer is yes. ‘Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna’ (She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat) picks up the gastronomic baton to tackle current and vital issues such as love, the way we feel and express it, sexuality, and gender roles.

If you watched the first season, you will have tasted the broth of this soup. Yuki Nomoto loves to cook, but she eats little and has no one to cook for. Coming home one night, she meets her neighbour, Kasuga-san, who will later become the main spectator of her passion for cooking. Thus, a close ‘friendship’ blossoms between Nomoto-san, who cooks and observes, and Kasuga-san, who tastes and devours. As the story unfolds, we discover that Nomoto is feeling drowned by the family and social pressures she is under to meet and marry a man, while Kasuga is dealing with a family past that is directly linked to her relationship with food. Eventually, Nomoto starts to have feelings for Kasuga and the first season ends. However, its short duration and that cliffhanger make you feel like you want to repeat it, like a good plate of food. Fortunately, earlier this year NHK delivered a double portion of episodes about this story.

The second season is not only longer but also better, expanding on what has already been explained with the introduction of two new characters: Naguno Sena, a new tenant in the building who suffers from deipnophobia (irrational fear of eating in public) to such an extent that it affects his daily life, and Miss Yako, a social network mutual of Nomoto, an Aroace, who helps Nomoto to find herself in search of her true identity. The social spectrum has expanded compared to the previous season.

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat is so special to me, not only because of its courage to address sensitive issues in Japan, basically because of sexism, homophobia, xenophobia, and all sorts of phobias fostered by poor sexual education and the culture of homogeneity, but also because it's about women. Empowered women who decide about themselves and their destiny, while supporting each other to move forward. It is an open story that never falls into the queerbaiting to which the Japanese are so accustomed, and one that connects women of different backgrounds through food in a subtle and respectful way.

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat has become my refuge and comfort zone over the past few months. Whether it's the warmth of Nomoto's apartment, the preparation of the food, the way she watches Kasuga while she eats, or that little music that relaxes the body and mind. I'm looking forward to the third season.

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