In this blog post, I’ll explore the plot and character development of the film “Josee, the Tiger and the Fish,” the love and breakup between Josee and Tsuneo, the directorial choices in scenes depicting the conflict with Kanae, and my personal reflections on the changes and growth of love.

Introduction

“Josee, the Tiger and the Fish.” This film, with its long title that seems to be a list of seemingly unrelated names, is one of the most memorable movies I’ve ever seen—a work that has lingered in my mind for a long time.
These days, movie titles are often made long to pique the audience’s interest, or crafted in unique ways to catch the eye. When I first encountered this film, I assumed it wouldn’t be much different. I assumed it was the kind of title people often talk about—one designed to create an air of mystery. However, this long title, which felt not just unique but downright bizarre, was actually a condensed representation of the essential elements that symbolize the film itself. “Jose” is the name of a character in the novel that the female protagonist, Kumiko, loves most; the “tiger” symbolizes fear itself to her; and the “fish” is a projection of her own self.
Josee, the Tiger and the Fish. With a mix of trepidation and excitement at the prospect of analyzing this film—which bears such a unique title and is so dear to me—I’ll begin my discussion.

A Love Story That Defies the Familiar Melodrama Formula

If we were to categorize this film’s genre, it would be a dramatic film centered on “love,” falling under the umbrella of melodrama. While it is generally introduced as a melodrama or romance, it is difficult to clearly distinguish the characteristics of the two genres, so I will examine it here from the perspective of melodrama. Although it is clearly a film about love between a man and a woman, I do not believe it follows the formula of what is commonly referred to as a melodrama.
Genres are defined by certain formulas yet are constantly evolving. The melodrama genre, too, has undergone a long process of consolidation over time, resulting in relatively familiar formulas and themes. Since the story of a man and a woman who overcome obstacles to be together is a common theme in melodramas, this film can also be viewed as a melodrama.
Typical romantic film tropes include unrequited love, terminal illness, family opposition, poverty, death, endless waiting, amnesia, secrets of birth, and disabilities. Many romantic films portray love as if it were eternal and are reluctant to acknowledge that love ultimately changes. They often suggest that “our love was strong, but the circumstances around us were difficult,” or that “our love was eternal, and not even death could separate us.” To prove that the couple’s love is genuine, their hearts become something sacred that must never change, while the pressure from their surroundings grows increasingly intense.
The illness that separates the protagonists must be incurable; sometimes a deceased wife returns, or a character suffers from amnesia. Love is constantly put to the test, but romantic films argue that it is ultimately strong enough to overcome any adversity or hardship.
In contrast, ‘Josee, the Tiger and the Fish’ portrays the realistic aspects of love. It depicts the changes in love—which people know exist but prefer not to face—with an attitude that is neither cynical nor overly matter-of-fact. Through its understated ending, it presents a story that differs from what audiences typically expect from conventional romantic films.
Perhaps this is why the film achieved a small but meaningful success by cultivating a dedicated fan base, rather than becoming a massive box-office hit. Although the perspective used to depict the protagonists’ love differs from that of conventional romantic films, it is clearly a romantic film in that it features a man and a woman in love and portrays their separation. If we must categorize it, we could call it an evolved romantic film that breaks away from conventional formulas.

Jose and Tsuneo’s Encounter, Love, and Separation

Tsuneo is a college student working part-time at a late-night mahjong parlor. Lately, the biggest topic of conversation there has been an elderly woman who takes a stroll every night pushing a baby stroller. The customers whisper that the stroller must contain a large sum of money or drugs. Then, one early morning, Tsuneo comes face-to-face with a stroller racing down a hill and discovers the truth behind the rumors.
The figure beneath the blanket that had everyone so curious was neither a yakuza’s wad of cash, nor drugs, nor the corpse of a granddaughter. There, trembling with fear and huddled tightly, was a girl about Tsunéo’s age. That was Tsunéo and José’s first encounter.
The elderly woman was taking her granddaughter—who couldn’t walk due to a leg injury—for a stroll in the stroller. The granddaughter’s real name is Kumiko, but she wants to be called José—the name of a character in a novel by Françoise Sagan. And so, she becomes José.
Tsuneo befriends José, who is a talented cook and finds her sole joy in reading books she’s picked up from the corner of a room. Although he has a pretty girlfriend, for some reason he finds himself drawn to José, who seems eccentric and special.
One day, Tsuneo’s girlfriend, Kanae, visits José’s home, and José is hurt by what she overhears in their conversation. Afterward, José decides not to see Tsuneo anymore, and the two do not meet for some time. Tsuneo tries hard to deny his feelings for José and forget her, but the death of José’s grandmother prompts him to return to her. Afterward, the two gradually grow closer and begin a romantic relationship.
Tsuneo considers marrying Jose and plans to introduce her to his parents. However, unable to overcome the practical burdens, he gradually grows weary. Eventually, he sets out to meet his parents, but the trip effectively becomes a journey to prepare for their breakup. Even after the trip, the two live together for several months, but ultimately, Tsuneo breaks up with Jose and returns to his ex-girlfriend.
Jose then purchases an electric wheelchair and goes on to live her life, grilling fish for herself.

Another Perspective on the End of Love

While analyzing the film, I also examined how others viewed this work. Among these, I was particularly struck by film critic Kim Bong-seok’s review titled “The Aesthetics of Restraint in ‘Josee, the Tiger and the Fish’.”
Critic Kim Bong-seok asks how viewers who have read the original novel might have perceived the film, drawing attention to the film’s ending—which, unlike the novel, depicts life after the breakup. Screenwriter Aya Watanabe, in her first feature-length adaptation, changed the novel’s happy ending to one of separation. However, he assesses that despite this change, the atmosphere and sentiment of the original work remain intact.
Aya Watanabe explains that she adapted the story by superimposing the actors onto the novel’s solid framework and allowing them to “thaw” within it. Although the lead actors possess pure and innocent images, she had no intention of simply creating a beautiful, pretty story. She also states that rather than relying on the plot, she immerses herself in a world of imagery and allows the characters to naturally weave the story within it.
Critic Kim Bong-seok interprets the film as using this adaptation to preserve the essence of the original while also showcasing Jose’s determination and sorrow as she ventures into a broader world.
He paid particular attention to the process by which Tsuneo discovers Jose. This begins to unfold in the scene where the two share a meal after their first meeting. Having reluctantly accepted the breakfast offered by the grandmother as a reward for helping Jose, Tsuneo breaks into a bright smile while sipping the soup and eating his rice. The satisfaction of finding the food incredibly delicious is clearly evident on his face.
This scene captures Tsunéo’s personality—his tendency to accept and express everything exactly as it is. Critic Kim Bong-seok interprets this as the very reason Tsunéo was able to discover José. The reason he is drawn to José, who cannot move her legs, lies in the most primal of emotions—one that cannot be explained in words. As Tsunéo says, he has decided not to dwell on things that are pointless to think about. This is because it is not a matter of thought, but of emotion.
And so, the two fall in love. Ultimately, this film is a love story. Borrowing the producer’s words, critic Kim Bong-seok calls this work a “100% romance film.” The film focuses solely on the love and separation between Jose and Tsuneo. For Jose, at least, love was the only pathway and source of strength that allowed her to break free from the world she had lived in and step out into the wider world.
However, Tsuneo is also a weak and cowardly man. Critic Kim Bong-seok views this not merely as a problem specific to Tsuneo, but as a universal portrayal of men. The film depicts, in a poignant yet understated manner, the process by which two people in love gradually grow weary until they cross a point of no return.
He also attributes significance to the film’s choice to go a step further than the original novel by showing what happens after the breakup. Love is never eternal. No matter how innocent and cute Jose’s face looks as she gazes at the world, Tsunéo cannot carry her on his back and run along the beach forever. Someday, he will grow tired, his feelings will cool, and he may turn away.
Like her grandmother said, Jose is aware of the reality that she is considered “broken,” and she also knows that Tsuneo’s love may not last forever. The film quietly depicts the process by which Tsuneo gradually grows weary and eventually runs away—through the characters’ expressions and fleeting glances.
Another characteristic of this film, as observed by critic Kim Bong-seok, is its restrained perspective. The film explores the weight of love. From the very beginning, Jose and Tsuneo were different people. Tsuneo avoids thinking about things he can’t bear to contemplate, while Jose already knows even the things she doesn’t need to think about. She understands the cruelty of the world—a cruelty that only someone who has been wounded over many years can truly grasp.
That is why Jose only went for walks in the early morning. However, she could not continue living that way forever. Fortunately, she met Tsuneo and stepped out into the world; experiencing happiness that, if only for a moment, seemed eternal, she takes a step forward. Later, Jose, in her electric wheelchair, goes grocery shopping under the midday sun, and still dives off her chair to enjoy the delicious meals she has prepared herself. She is living her own life, even in solitude.
Critic Kim Bong-seok notes that director Inudo Itsunori and actress Watanabe Aya’s tender, honest, and restrained gaze toward Jose enhances the film’s purity. He argues that while love is not eternal and can even be cruel at times, it is precisely that love that made Jose strong.
I largely agree with this critique. The love depicted in this film is not a special story meant to save someone, but rather the story of two people who love each other and eventually part ways. And because the end of love does not necessarily mean the failure of love, the film’s conclusion lingers in the mind for a long time.

Why did Tsuneo love Jose?

First, Tsuneo is an ordinary college student working part-time at a mahjong parlor. His personality becomes clear in several scenes early in the film. Even to Josee—who has long avoided social interaction and lives in her own distinct world—Tsuneo quickly becomes a familiar presence. This seems to be related to Tsuneo’s personality: he is somewhat easygoing, accepts situations as they are, and knows how to express his feelings honestly.
One early morning, Tsunéo comes face-to-face with a stroller racing down a hill and ends up walking José home, visiting her house for the first time. As a token of gratitude for helping José, her grandmother offers Tsunéo breakfast, and he reluctantly sits down at the table.
However, as he sips his soup and eats his rice, a bright smile spreads across Tsunéo’s face. He compliments Jose, telling her the food is delicious. That afternoon, under the pretext of warning her to be careful of muggers while out for a walk, he stops by Jose’s house again and has another meal. On his third visit, Tsuneo moves in and out of the house as naturally as if it were his own, even lying down on the floor, and before long, he has become a part of their daily lives.
The way he speaks to the grandmother and Jose without hesitation offers a glimpse into Tsuneo’s affable and open-minded personality.
The first person Tsuneo met was “Jose, the person with a disability.” However, as their encounters continued, he came to discover Jose not as someone defined by his disability, but as Jose just as he is. Only then did he truly meet the “real Jose.”
While reading reviews of this film, I noticed that many people interpret Tsuneo’s love as pity. Of course, curiosity or pity may have been part of the reason Tsuneo first approached Jose. I don’t want to deny that possibility. However, I take issue with interpreting the love Tsuneo felt for Jose itself as pity.
There’s a scene where Tsunéo’s ex-girlfriend, Kanae, resents José, accusing her of stealing her boyfriend. At this point, Kanae says that Tsunéo couldn’t leave José alone and that only she could protect José—yet she also adds that he isn’t actually that kind of person.
On the contrary, I find that these lines make it difficult to explain Tsunéo’s feelings for José as anything other than love. As Kanae says, Tsunéo isn’t particularly kind or compassionate. He’s just an ordinary college student who knows how to accept the person in front of him exactly as they are.
Therefore, Tsuneo’s choice to be with Jose cannot be explained by mere pity. He stayed with her because he loved her. Of course, the fact that he loved her doesn’t mean he was able to stay by her side until the very end. That, in fact, is the realistic portrayal of love that this film presents.

Why did Jose want to abandon the name Kumiko?

The second character we’ll examine is José.
José’s real name is Kumiko. However, she prefers to be called José—a name taken from Françoise Sagan’s novel ‘One Month Later, One Year Later’—rather than Kumiko. This is likely because the name Kumiko represents her past, closed-off life, while the name José represents the life she aspires to, one that lies deep within her heart.
The novel tells a story of how, eventually, people stop loving one another, return to solitude, and let the years slip by. These words resemble the future that José will face in the film. We can infer José’s inner world from the fact that she chose as her name a character from the novel who seems to already know the end of love and the reality of solitude.
José cannot use her legs. She was briefly placed in a foster care facility as a child and later went to live with her grandmother, though the film does not explain in detail how she came to live with her.
Her grandmother is ashamed to show her disabled granddaughter in public and only takes her for walks in the early morning to avoid drawing attention. Jose is always seen with disheveled hair and dressed in comfortable clothes that look as if she just threw them on. When she goes for a walk, she must cover her face with a blanket.
Her grandmother repeatedly tells José to face reality, implying that she is useless. Influenced by this environment, José develops a strong, introverted personality and lives in her own world. Her cold and curt tone of voice also seems to reflect this personality.
I’m not sure if the Osaka dialect naturally conveys this impression, but Jose’s way of speaking—blurting out words with an expressionless face and little variation in pitch—seems closely tied to her withdrawn personality.
However, Jose’s withdrawal isn’t solely due to her grandmother’s influence. Even in the scene where she brandishes a knife at Tsunéo—a stranger she’s just met—one can sense how deeply she has been wounded by the world and how high the walls she has built around herself have become.
Yet the walls Jose has built in her heart are precarious—they could crumble at any moment. This is because they are not walls she chose to build herself, but rather a facade of exaggerated composure she created to protect herself.
Jose knows she must become stronger, and she constantly repeats to herself that she must do so. Yet, she eventually takes Tsunéo’s hand and steps out into the world.
For Jose, her relationship with Tsunéo is practically her first experience of sharing deep intimacy with another person. Because of this, she struggles to gauge the appropriate distance in their relationship, sometimes clinging blindly to Tsunéo or throwing tantrums.
However, Tsunéo eventually cannot bear the weight of reality and leaves her side.
After Tsunéo leaves, José buys an electric wheelchair and grills fish for herself. Now she no longer waits for someone to take her out. Having faced the tiger—once an object of fear—alongside the one she loves, José has grown stronger and more mature than before.

From their first meeting to their parting, how did the two of them grow?

The narrative structure of this film can be simply summarized as a progression through meeting, conflict, love, travel, and parting.
The story begins with Jose and Tsuneo’s first meeting. While the film doesn’t feature a particularly dramatic conflict structure compared to other movies, there is tension between Jose and Tsuneo’s girlfriend, Kanae, and a rift that briefly drives the couple apart when Jose is hurt by Tsuneo.
After going through these events, the two reunite and fall in love. They then embark on a trip to meet Tsuneo’s parents, but this journey effectively becomes a process of preparing for their separation. Ultimately, a few months later, the two part ways.
If we view this narrative progression through the lens of the hero’s journey, this film can also be interpreted as a coming-of-age story with a rite-of-passage structure.
Coming-of-age films with a rite-of-passage structure can be divided into stories where growth occurs through external adventures and those where growth occurs through everyday, internal adventures. I recall that in my Introduction to Film class, we studied ‘Shower’ as an example of a coming-of-age film featuring an internal adventure.
If ‘Shower’ is a film about growth through an inner adventure, couldn’t ‘Josee, the Tiger and the Fish’ also be classified as a coming-of-age film that depicts an everyday, inner adventure?
Through Tsuneo, Josee breaks free from the closed-off space she had been living in and steps into the world where Tsuneo lives. Tsuneo, too, enters a world he had never experienced before after meeting Josee. In the sense that both of them break free from the worlds to which they belonged and embark on new experiences, they are essentially undergoing a process of separation.
The concept of “initiation” that I learned in class referred to experiences involving death or hitting rock bottom. However, the happiness of Jose and Tsuneo could also be viewed as a kind of happiness akin to death—one whose end was foreshadowed. If so, we could interpret the process of their falling in love as an initiation, and their more mature state after their parting as a process of return.
From this perspective, there is room to argue that this film also possesses the rites-of-passage structure of a hero’s myth.
Of course, I was deeply moved by how José and Tsuneo grew through the process of meeting, falling in love, and parting ways, but I believe there is something somewhat forced about explaining this entire process through the rites-of-passage structure of a hero’s myth.
This is because interpreting a film in this way would allow almost any movie featuring events and conflicts to be forced into the framework of a hero’s myth. Therefore, while I am open to the possibility of interpreting this film as a coming-of-age story with a rite-of-passage structure, I do not wish to insist solely on that interpretation.
Rather, what I’m more interested in examining is the conflict between Jose and Kanae, Tsunéo’s ex-girlfriend. This is because their encounter reveals not only emotions surrounding love but also their differing perspectives on people with disabilities.

What perspectives lie hidden within the conflict between Jose and Kanae?

Kanae is Tsunéo’s pretty and kind girlfriend, who hopes to become a social worker.
There is a scene where staff from the welfare department visit to renovate Jose’s home at Tsunéo’s request. As a student hoping to work in social welfare, Kanae also visits Jose’s home with them.
At that moment, Kanae recalls the story Tsunéo had once told her about Jose’s diving and says she would like to see him dive.
Unfortunately, to Kanae, Jose appeared to be nothing more than a pitiful person with a disability.
When Tsuneo first told Kanae about Joze’s diving, he didn’t know Joze very well yet, so he, too, may have viewed Joze as an object of curiosity. However, by the time Kanae visited, Tsuneo was already seeing Joze as a human being first and foremost, rather than just a person with a disability.
That’s why, when Kanae says she wants to see Joze dive, Tsuneo also looks flustered. Joze, who overheard their conversation, became angry at Tsuneo’s attitude, and with her grandmother’s opposition piling on top of that, she ended up staying away from Tsuneo for a while.
Perhaps professions in the social welfare field require viewing people with disabilities from the perspective of their disability. This is because, in order to understand their challenges and provide the necessary assistance, one must consider the practical difficulties they face due to their disability. That might actually be the best way to ensure their well-being.
Of course, it is most desirable to view people with disabilities as whole individuals, free from any prejudice. However, if that is difficult, shouldn’t we at least cultivate a perspective that understands and shows consideration for the inconveniences they face due to their disabilities?
Yet in this scene, Kanae merely views Jose as a curious being different from herself, showing no consideration whatsoever for the inconveniences caused by her disability.
Later, when Tsuneo returns to her after hearing of Grandma Jose’s death, Jose and Kanae meet for the second time.
At first, Kanae probably thought Tsuneo had chosen Jose simply because he pitied her. However, during their second meeting, she refers to Jose’s impaired leg as a “weapon” and says she envies her.
Kanae must have already known that Tsunéo’s choice of José was not based on mere pity, but on love. This can be inferred from Kanae’s own words—even though Tsunéo said he couldn’t leave José alone, she remarked that he wasn’t actually that kind of person.
Nevertheless, Kanae persists in viewing Jose as inferior to herself—as someone defined solely by her disability.
However, the love between Jose and Tsuneo is, to borrow the words of critic Kim Bong-seok discussed earlier, a “100% love story” shared by two ordinary people. The essence of that love does not change simply because of a disability.

How is Joze’s disability portrayed on the uphill path where she faces Kanae?

Let’s take a closer look at the scene where Joze and Kanae confront each other after Tsuneo has chosen Joze.
A young child is struggling to push the stroller carrying Joze up the hill. The screen first shows the child’s strained expression as they push the stroller, followed by Joze’s resolute expression.
As they round a bend in the uphill path, the child and Jose’s gazes converge on the same spot. At the crest of the hill they are looking up at, Kanae stands.
Kanae is shown in a long shot, with the camera framing her from a low angle, looking up at her. In contrast, Jose is shown in a close-up centered on the upper part of his chest.
The child continues to push the stroller with great effort, and finally, Jose and Kanae come face to face.
Kanae is dressed neatly and stylishly. In contrast, Jose, as always, has tousled hair and is wearing comfortable clothes, with his legs still covered by a blanket.
Kanae tells Jose that Tsunéo said he couldn’t leave her alone and that only he could protect her, but she explains that he isn’t actually that kind of person. She then admits that, honestly, she envies Jose’s “weapon.”
Jose retorts that if she really feels that way, she should cut off her own legs too.
Hearing this, Kanae approaches Jose and slaps him across the face. When Jose raises his right hand, Kanae offers her cheek so his hand can reach it. Kanae then slaps Jose across the face one more time. Jose raises his right hand again, but this time Kanae doesn’t lower her head.
The screen shows both the young child and Kanae’s face. Kanae takes two or three steps backward, then turns around and begins to walk away. Next, the camera zooms in on the child’s face, and Kanae disappears off the left side of the screen.
In this scene, the encounter between Jose and Kanae—unlike the one between Jose and Tsuneo—can be seen as a confrontation between a person with a disability and a person without one. Consequently, Jose’s disability is further emphasized.
Jose cannot go to meet Kanae without the child’s help. The sight of the child struggling to push the stroller up the hill further emphasizes the reality that Jose needs the assistance of others.
However, even though the path Jose must take could have been flat, it is set as an uphill slope. In contrast, Kanae stands at the top of that hill.
In the long shot of Kanae, both of her legs are within the frame. Furthermore, the camera captures her from a low angle, looking up, which emphasizes her confidence and sophistication. In contrast, perhaps because she is seated in the stroller, only the upper half of Jose’s body is visible.
The difference between the two is also evident in their attire. While Kanae wears neat and feminine clothing, Jose appears disheveled and is covering her legs with a blanket.
Ultimately, various elements—such as the spatial setting of the uphill path, the camera angle, the differences in the shots applied to the characters, and their attire—seem to emphasize the contrast between a person with a disability and one without.
The conflict between the two women is not merely an emotional battle over a single man. While it is a scene where two women who have fallen in love with the same man come face to face, it is also a scene where two people—treated differently by society—confront one another.
Kanae describes José’s disability as an “advantage” she herself lacks, but for José, it is a real inconvenience she must endure in her daily life. While Kanae views the difference between herself and Jose as an advantage or disadvantage in their romantic rivalry, Jose experiences that difference as a reality of her daily life.
I believe this scene reveals not only the emotional conflict between the two women but also society’s perspective on people with disabilities.

Why Do I Like “Josee, the Tiger and the Fish”?

When I was assigned a report for my Introduction to Film class, ‘Josee, the Tiger and the Fish’ immediately came to mind. I suppose that’s how much I love this film.
However, when I actually tried to analyze it, I ran into some difficulties. Since the film doesn’t feature many dramatic elements, plot twists, or intense conflicts, it didn’t seem suitable for applying the structure of the hero’s journey we’d learned in class or for analyzing its plot.
So, thinking I might write about a film that would be easier to analyze, I watched other movies and gave it a lot of thought. But I felt that analyzing a film I didn’t like would make the whole process of writing the report a chore. In the end, I came back to ‘Josee, the Tiger and the Fish’.
Since this was a film I had first experienced emotionally rather than analyzed rationally, I was initially worried about whether I could truly view this work objectively. However, I wanted to understand why I had come to love this film and what elements made me feel, the more I watched it, that it was actually quite good. That was ultimately why I chose this film.
But when I actually sat down to think about it, even answering the most basic question—“Why do I like this film?”—wasn’t easy.
When interpreting a film, while the filmmaker’s intent and the meaning the work conveys are important, I believe the audience’s attitude toward it also plays a significant role. When the audience’s disposition and current circumstances align well with the film, the work breaks through the walls in the viewer’s heart and conveys a deep emotional impact. The filmmaker’s intent is also more likely to be effectively conveyed through such empathy.
I first saw this movie during the summer vacation of 2005.
I can’t say I was in the same situation as José at the time, but the barriers in my heart were similar to his. It was a period when my negative view of the world had reached its peak, and I was gradually growing weary of superficial relationships and the transience of love.
In this state of mind, as I watched the film, I projected myself onto the character of José. That’s why I was able to empathize even more deeply with his situation and emotions.
To be honest, I hadn’t really liked romantic movies up until then. It was because of their predictable storylines, clichéd endings, and scenes that seemed designed to force tears from the audience. Of course, part of it was that I didn’t have enough experience with love yet, and part of it was that—due to personal circumstances I can’t go into detail about here—I had mistakenly interpreted the fact that love changes as meaning that love itself doesn’t exist.
To someone like me, this movie—with its detached perspective from start to finish—showed me what “cool love” truly is and what attitude I should adopt toward love in the future.
So, what exactly is “cool love”?
Is it love that doesn’t hold back those who leave or block those who come? Is it love that discards eternal vows and believes it’s better to love many people? Is it love that is neither bound nor binding?
I am confident that this film is the work that truly captures the essence of “cool love.”
People often think of “cool love” as love that isn’t obsessed with the object of affection. However, rather than being “cool love” in the true sense, this is merely a love that appears “cool” on the surface—a mere shell—created by people who simply pursue “coolness.”
Just like all other forms of love, “cool” love also involves pain. Even without creating extreme situations like terminal illness or death, there is real pain that stems from love itself.
And Jose and Tsuneo face that pain head-on. In the face of pain, they neither succumb to the extreme illusions that love creates nor swear eternal love; nor do they turn a blind eye to the pain of love.
They feel love in the present—not in the past or the future—and fully reflect on the pain that arises within it. Instead of clinging to intangible romantic illusions, they cherish and contemplate the love and relationship they can experience in the reality of the moment.
The reason I consider them “cool” isn’t simply because they acknowledge that love changes. It’s because, faced with a changing love, rather than denying their partner or love itself, they accept the pain that comes with that change without hesitation.
And even knowing that pain, they continue to live and love once again.
Josee’s attitude toward love is “cool” in precisely this sense.
Watching a young girl accept the realistic pain of love so calmly and go through the process of letting go of the person she loved allowed me to break free from the foolish notion I’d long held—that “love doesn’t exist.”
Just because love isn’t eternal doesn’t mean the love felt in that moment is a lie. Just because two people eventually part ways doesn’t mean the time they spent together disappears. Parting is certainly painful and cruel, but there’s no need to deny the memories of love simply because one endured that pain.
This is the meaning of “cool” love that I discovered in this film.
Tsuneo left Jose’s side, and Jose was alone once more. However, the Jose before she met Tsuneo is not the same as the Jose after the breakup. Through love, she stepped out into the world, faced the things she feared, and finally became capable of living her life on her own.
I don’t think this movie simply tells a story about the futility of love. I believe it’s a film that shows how, even as we acknowledge that love can change and end, the experiences and lessons we gain through that love remain with us for the rest of our lives.
Perhaps through this film, I learned more about our attitude toward love than about love itself. Not denying love simply because it isn’t eternal; cherishing the emotions of the present even while knowing they will end; and accepting the pain of parting rather than avoiding it, and moving on with life. That was the resilience I discovered in Jose.
That’s why this film isn’t just a sad love story to me. It’s a work that made me reflect on how to live in the face of love’s changes. It gave me—who had been cynical about love—a chance to reconsider it, and it calmly showed me that life goes on even after love has ended.
The little girl standing alone in the world after saying goodbye to Tsuneo. I will never forget that image of her, shining even brighter than before she fell in love.