In this blog post, I’d like to discuss the plot and character relationships in the film ‘Josee, the Tiger and the Fish’, the symbolic meanings behind Josee, the tiger, and the fish, the striking visuals and emotional restraint, and the realistic portrayal of life revealed through love and separation.

Why did I choose this movie?

A romantic film (?). As you know, when watching a movie, the genre leads viewers to expect certain emotions. When I decided to watch this film, I approached it with the same mindset I always have for romantic films, and of course, I felt the emotions I expected. However, the fact that this particular film stood out among countless romantic films suggests that, even while expecting and experiencing similar emotions, I discovered something different in it. Actually, this movie was classified as a “drama.” However, since I still don’t know the exact definition of the “drama” genre—and because I clearly thought of this movie as a romance until I looked it up online—I’ll continue to approach it as a romance.
I’ve always preferred romantic dramas—which make me think more deeply, even if they leave me feeling a bit melancholy—to romantic comedies, which, while enjoyable enough, offer predictable laughs. Rather than a romantic comedy that lets you walk away with a clean, cheerful smile, a romantic drama that leaves a lingering aftertaste—making you want to sit a little longer as the dark screen rolls with the ending credits and the film’s score plays—has an irresistible charm.
My favorite actors are also a major reason I choose certain movies. When watching a movie, I always check who’s in it—whether they’re leads or supporting actors—or I’ll deliberately seek out films starring actors I usually like. Or, if I discover an actor I like for the first time in a movie, I sometimes show a certain “passion” (?) by scouring the internet to find all their previous works. While it’s a bit of a problem that this passion tends to be directed mainly toward handsome male actors, for me, their good looks are also a very important factor in choosing a movie and enjoying it. I liked the two leads in this film so much that I ended up searching for them online afterward—this time, not just the handsome male lead, but the charming female lead as well. I’m grateful to the director for creating such a wonderful film, but I especially loved the two leads, who left a lasting impression on me.
And above all, this film offers food for thought. While it’s nice to have a movie where you can laugh your heart out just to take your mind off things, I believe what truly makes a film worthwhile is when it fulfills its role as art. Even if a film is somewhat commercial and mainstream, if it receives critical acclaim, it’s probably because there’s definitely something “deeper” to it. That’s why I like this film. It doesn’t just suddenly bring up profound topics; rather, it naturally leads you to think more deeply as you watch. Whether the issue is disability or simply the theme of love, the fact that it makes me rethink things—to the point where I can’t easily brush them aside—is another strength of this film.

The Story: Jose and Tsuneo’s Encounter and Parting

Tsuneo is an ordinary senior in college who works part-time at a mahjong parlor. One day while working, he hears a rumor about an elderly woman and a stroller that have been appearing in the neighborhood every dawn for the past ten years. Then, one early morning, Tsuneo actually encounters the elderly woman and the stroller. After stopping the stroller—which had rolled downhill due to someone’s curiosity—Tsuneo helps the elderly woman walk home, and in the process, he meets Jose for the first time; she is sitting inside the stroller, holding a self-defense knife and glaring at him.
Jose is a frail woman who cannot use her legs. Tsuneo learns that the elderly woman, who takes care of Jose, is ashamed of her and only takes her out at dawn. After enjoying a truly delicious breakfast at Jose’s house that morning, Tsunéo begins to drop by her home from time to time with food. Jose and Tsunéo gradually become friends, and Tsunéo asks Kanae, a school friend studying social welfare, how Jose could live more comfortably. Eventually, with the help of social welfare workers, renovations begin on Jose’s house.
However, when Kanae visits Jose’s house during the renovation and talks about Jose as if she were a curiosity, Jose is deeply hurt—especially since Tsunéo, caught off guard, ends up agreeing with Kanae’s remarks. After being told not to visit anymore, Tsuneo goes back to his normal school life, starts dating Kanae, and busies himself preparing for a job, trying to forget about Jose. Then one day, while preparing for his job search, Tsuneo hears that Jose’s grandmother has passed away and that she is struggling to get by on her own. Tsuneo rushes over, and the two reaffirm their feelings for each other and begin dating.
Tsuneo moves in with Jose, and time passes. A year later, Tsuneo takes Jose with him on a trip to attend a memorial service at his parents’ rural home. During the long journey, Tsuneo grows increasingly exhausted, and Jose—whom he has to carry on his back the whole time—begins to feel a little heavier. Jose suggests to Tsuneo that they go see the ocean instead of visiting the rural home. After the trip, the two live together for a few more months but eventually part ways. Tsuneo moves out of Joze’s house and reunites with Kanae. Joze continues to live independently in her own home, using her electric wheelchair.

How did others view this film?

This film is an adaptation of a short story by Seiko Tanabe, a winner of the Akutagawa Prize. It’s a sweet and poignant love story between Tsunéo (Satoshi Tsumabuki), an ordinary college student, and José (Chizuru Ipekawa), who has limited mobility, and both the story and the visuals are deeply impressive.
In his commentary, film critic Hong Seong-jin describes Tsunéo and José’s encounter as a process in which a special emotion blossoms between pity and affection. Tsuneo, a college student with no serious girlfriend but a few casual dates, one day encounters an elderly woman on the street pushing her grown-up granddaughter in a stroller. The granddaughter is skilled at making rolled omelets, and her only joy is reading found books while confined to her room. Her name is José, taken from the protagonist of a novel by Françoise Sagan.
Tsunéo, who befriends José living alone with her grandmother in a dilapidated house, gradually begins to feel special emotions toward her. Although the prettiest underclassman on campus shows interest in Tsunéo, there was something far more special about José—who lacked glamorous looks, healthy legs, or a decent home. For a time, their love seems to blossom beautifully, transcending her disability and all the world’s stereotypes and constraints. But as time passes, Tsunéo—who must constantly carry José on his back—begins to feel the weight of her growing heavier.
Director Itsushi Inudo describes this film as both a love story and a tale of how love transforms a young girl. Jose creates a fantasy world to protect herself, but as that fantasy shatters, she comes to realize what reality truly is. And within that reality, she discovers both the greatest happiness and the deepest despair that life has to offer. Yet when Jose feels despair, it is not only her vulnerability that is revealed; the strength and courage hidden within her also come to the surface.
The director sought to express Jose’s strength and courage through the actors’ physical presence and visible expressions rather than through dialogue. He also wanted the audience to feel as though the story unfolding on screen were actually happening. Rather than creating a dramatic narrative with extreme emotional swings, he hoped the audience would feel as though they had spent time with the characters from the very beginning and had journeyed alongside them to this point. The director’s perspective—that depicting love is synonymous with depicting personal growth, and ultimately, life itself—is also striking.
The Bucheon International Fantastic Film Festival’s description also views this film as a story that transcends clichés through its affectionate portrayal of everyday life and original characters, thereby redefining love. Like snapshots unfolding one by one at the beginning of the film, this work is a recollection of fading memories of a very special love experienced by a young man named Tsuneo. The couple’s small, everyday memories, which unfold as if someone were gently reading a fairy tale, leave behind a poignant and moving impression that is not easily forgotten.
The tiger and the fish mentioned in the title also hold special significance. The tiger is the creature Jose fears most. The scene where Jose, after meeting Tsuneo, goes to the zoo with him and encounters a tiger up close for the first time symbolizes the power of love—a power that helps her overcome the fear of the world and the closed-off attitude that had taken root in her heart as she lived with her disability. The fish serve as a projection of Jose’s desire to swim freely through the world—a desire she had suppressed while confined to her room—and also symbolize the resilience with which she quietly carries on with her life even after love has ended. The scene where Jose, who had been lost in fantasy, swimming through love like a fish, grits her teeth and eats grilled fish alone is a lonely yet honest portrayal of life.

Beyond the Relationship Between Jose and Tsuneo: A Person with a Disability and a Person Without

Jose is a person with a disability. She cannot use her legs. She lived in an orphanage as a child and escaped from it with Yu, a boy who was also there. Although it is not explained how they came to live together, an elderly grandmother—who is ashamed of Jose—takes care of her. Her only time outside is during her early-morning walks, so she leads an extremely reclusive life, and her personality is equally withdrawn. At home, she wears baggy clothes that look as if she picked them up somewhere, reads countless books scavenged from the trash, and spends her days holed up in her closet. She’s a good cook and crawls around the entire house on her bottom. She lives her life hearing that she is a broken object of no use to the world.
In contrast, Tsuneo is an ordinary college student. Although it may be hard to believe he’s “ordinary” given that he’s the very handsome young man playing the lead role in this film, Tsuneo’s character is clearly that of an ordinary college student. Before meeting Jose, he had no interest in people with disabilities and even tried to seduce pretty girls for one-night stands. He laughs and jokes while drinking at the college orientation party and carelessly piles up the food his parents constantly send from home. In other words, the male lead, Tsuneo, didn’t like Jose for any special reason from the start. He’s an ordinary student from an ordinary family—an average person with a fully functioning body. He’s also the kind of indifferent person who, had he not met Jose by chance, likely wouldn’t have shown any interest in the people living in such a poor neighborhood.
Furthermore, Tsuneo has a very optimistic personality. He possesses the unblemished, kind nature typical of an ordinary young man who grew up without want or hardship. He is kind to most people and doesn’t easily incur anyone’s dislike.
Before they knew each other, Tsuneo and Jose were like people living in different worlds. Tsuneo, who is ordinary, and Jose, who has lived in an extraordinary environment, meet through a trivial and chance encounter, and through that meeting, they grow close very naturally. In other words, it’s not that Tsuneo feels particularly sorry for Jose and visits her often; rather, it’s elements like Jose’s unique mannerisms and way of speaking, as well as the meals and side dishes she prepares, that become the reasons for their meetings. The relationship between Tsuneo and Jose is not so much a relationship between a non-disabled person and a person with a disability as it is an ordinary relationship that two ordinary young people might have—a natural romantic connection.
However, the film also depicts a relationship where the distinction between a person with a disability and a non-disabled person is clearly evident: that between Jose and Kanae. Kanae, Tsuneo’s pretty girlfriend, refers to Jose’s immobile leg as a “weapon.” To Kanae, who met Jose along with social workers, Jose is nothing more than a pitiful person with a disability. She believes that Tsunéo chose Jose simply because he felt sorry for her.
The relationship between Jose and her grandmother also illustrates the dynamic between a person with a disability and a non-disabled person. While the grandmother pities Jose and cares for her, she simultaneously calls Jose a “useless person” and tells her she must not go out. This reflects the tendency of non-disabled people to judge and dismiss people with disabilities based on their perceived usefulness.
Through the relationship between Jose and Tsuneo, the film shows that encounters between people with and without disabilities do not have to stem solely from pity but can also begin with a natural mutual attraction. In contrast, the attitudes of Kanae and the grandmother reveal a perspective that views people with disabilities primarily through the lens of their disability.

What do José, the tiger, and the fish symbolize?

In fact, José is not really José. Her real name is Kumiko—a very ordinary name. José, the tiger, and the fish that appear in the film’s title all symbolize Kumiko.
José is the name of a character in Françoise Sagan’s novel ‘One Month Later, One Year Later’. Kumiko, who loves this book very much, chose to call herself José. It seems that José—that is, Kumiko—has always wanted to be someone other than herself. Although she doesn’t openly complain about her disability or express dissatisfaction with her life of poverty, she wants to take on the new name “José.” She wants to live her life under the name of a character from her favorite novel, rather than her ordinary given name.
The tiger also symbolizes Josee, or Kumiko. For Josee, who must fight against the world, the tiger is a terrifying presence. However, Josee faces the tiger head-on alongside Tsuneo and overcomes her fear through that experience. This goes beyond simply seeing a frightening animal; it signifies that Josee, who once feared the world, has become capable of confronting that fear on her own. In other words, by the latter half of the film, Josee has become much stronger than she was at the beginning.
The fish also symbolize Jose and Kumiko. Jose says that before she met Tsuneo, she existed only in silence within a pitch-black, deep, deep sea where she could see nothing. However, Jose, who swam up to the surface to meet Tsuneo, became a fish. She is a fish that longs to swim freely in the vast ocean, and through Tsuneo, she is a being who has emerged from the darkness.
Most importantly, even after Tsuneo leaves, Joze does not return to that darkness. Although her love with Tsuneo has ended, Joze is no longer someone living cut off from the world as she once was. She carries on with her life on her own and remains a fish swimming in that ocean.

How does the film’s cinematography depict the couple’s love and parting?

It doesn’t seem like any particularly unique cinematographic techniques were used throughout the film—though this is just my limited opinion as a layperson. However, I believe the way the screen is framed with photographs—both at the beginning of the film and during the scenes of Tsunéo and José’s travels—signifies that their love has already become a memory.
At the beginning of the film, photos from the couple’s trip appear first, and Tsunéo’s narration begins. The photos—of small, trivial objects or parts of José’s body—show that the memories of José, deeply etched in Tsunéo’s mind, remain as a source of longing. Each photograph records the passage of time while simultaneously making us feel that that time is no longer the present.
However, the images that left a deeper impression on me were those of spaces devoid of people. From the very beginning of the film, Jose’s house appears repeatedly—when Tsuneo is given a meal, when the city office renovates the house, and even after the grandmother passes away and Tsuneo moves in to live there. Through these countless scenes, Jose’s house becomes so familiar that it feels as though it’s alive alongside the characters.
And what’s remarkable is that in the scene toward the end of the film—when Tsunéo leaves and the house is shown without even José—it evokes a feeling entirely different from before. A yellowish glow envelops the screen, creating an atmosphere that is both warm and desolate. Each and every small object that has always been in that house suddenly appears lonely, and the familiar space seems quiet and desolate.
Without any dialogue or tears from the protagonists, the very essence of parting is palpable. This is why images of an empty space are so inevitably striking. The house and objects that seemed ordinary when the two lived together reveal the emptiness of that absence in its entirety once someone has left. Even though the film simply shows that place, I could fully feel the couple’s parting.

A Movie Watched at Dawn: The Art of Emotional Restraint

Watching a movie at dawn is pure bliss. The pleasure of watching a gentle film alone in the quiet darkness is something I wouldn’t trade for anything. ‘Josee, the Tiger and the Fish’ was undoubtedly the best of the films I’ve watched at dawn.
My downside when watching movies alone late at night is that, embarrassingly enough, I often get too sentimental and end up feeling melancholy. Thankfully, however, this film simply spoke quietly even to someone like me—who inevitably becomes sentimental at dawn—without making me cry too much.
Overall, there is very little music in this film. For the most part, there is no background music at all; when necessary, a cheerful tune plays once or twice, or a rhythm and melody occasionally flow through. Considering that a film’s soundtrack is a crucial device for stirring the audience’s emotions, this film has effectively stripped away a significant portion of that device.
This stands in stark contrast to typical sad romantic dramas, which use grand, emotionally charged music—a mix of pathos and sorrow—at the very moments when the audience is supposed to feel sad. From the very beginning, the film maintained a sense of “quiet.” And that quiet does not stoke the viewer’s emotions.
Instead of sad music, this film shows an empty room, Jose’s tightly pursed lips, and a single fish swimming in an inn room. Sadness is present, but it isn’t forced upon the viewer; rather, it allows each person to quietly feel something for themselves.
The moment I found myself thinking, “Oh, how sad,” and tears welled up unconsciously was when Tsuneo—who had left Jose with a bright smile—stopped in the street and suddenly burst into tears. It was a scene where restrained emotions erupted in an instant.
Consequently, I never felt any compulsion to cry while watching this film. I didn’t feel like I had to cry just because a scene was sad, nor did the music or dialogue push me to shed tears. That’s why, in fact, the moment Tsuneo burst into tears, his emotions resonated with me even more deeply.

Life Goes On Even After Love Ends: The Realism Depicted in the Film

This film not only refrains from forcing emotions but also tells no lies.
I’ve heard that in the novel on which the film is based, the couple never actually breaks up. While it’s unclear when Tsuneo will leave, the story ends with the two of them still together. The film, however, candidly reveals that their relationship isn’t actually that simple.
Tsuneo begins to feel the weight of Jose on his back growing heavier, and he eventually reaches a point where he finds himself getting irritated by her eccentric behavior. And even before setting out on their journey, Jose smokes a cigarette wistfully and scoffs at the very idea of marriage. Jose had anticipated their separation relatively earlier than Tsuneo, and the novel by Sa-gang that she reads also hints that their love cannot last forever.
In the end, Tsuneo did not introduce Jose to his parents, and shortly thereafter, the two part ways. Tsuneo honestly confesses, “I ran away.”
If the film had shown Tsuneo living happily ever after with Jose, or if it had ended on a happy note without a breakup, it might have been a bit more enjoyable. However, the film did not lie.
It seems to say, “This is reality,” and urges us to accept it—even if it is a slightly sad and painful story.
Their parting was matter-of-fact. The two likely never met again, and Tsuneo reunited with Kanae. Jose goes grocery shopping alone in her electric wheelchair and continues to cook. Rather than collapsing from the breakup or weeping from unbearable longing, the fact that she had no choice but to return to her daily life—that was the reality the film portrayed.
It’s not that Tsuneo didn’t love Josee. Josee, too, loved Tsuneo sincerely. However, the fact that they loved each other wasn’t enough to overcome all the realities they faced. Tsuneo grew increasingly exhausted, and Josee may have realized that reality even before he did.
The love depicted in this film isn’t a story where disability and all the world’s constraints are beautifully overcome, leading to eternal happiness. It shows that no matter how special the emotion of love may be, the daily lives of two people cannot remain happy forever. And I believe that the film’s greatest charm lies in its refusal to hide this truth.
That said, their parting does not feel entirely hopeless. Although they have parted ways, the two young people, standing alone in their respective places, appear quite hopeful. Tsuneo left Jose, and Jose returned to her daily life without Tsuneo. But both of them are living their own lives.
This is especially true of Jose. At first, Jose was a woman who hid in a stroller pushed by her grandmother and could only venture out into the world at dawn. However, by the end of the film, Jose is riding an electric wheelchair, doing her own grocery shopping, and taking care of the things she can do on her own. She is no longer trapped in the darkness of her past simply because Tsunéo is gone.
Parting is certainly a sad thing, but José continues to live her life even amidst that sadness. Watching her, I realize that the film isn’t simply about the love and separation between two people. It shows how a person changes through love—and the life that continues even after that love has ended.
That’s why I like the ending of this film. It’s sad because the love has ended, but seeing the two of them each moving forward with their own lives feels quite hopeful. The film seems to suggest that just because love has ended doesn’t mean everything is over—nor does it mean one needs to pretend to have forced themselves to overcome the sadness of parting.

A subtle aftertaste that lingers for a long time

“Josee, the Tiger and the Fish” was an “honest” film that neither forced emotions nor told lies. That’s why its subtle charm lingers for a long time.
Furthermore, the film naturally guides the viewer to see Jose as a cute young woman first, before viewing her as a person with a disability. Jose has difficulty walking, but that is not the whole story. She has a unique way of speaking, knows how to cook delicious food, loves books, and is a young woman with her own thoughts and stubbornness. Tsunéo was drawn to Jose not simply because he felt sorry for her, but precisely because of her unique charm.
While the film addresses the distinction between people with and without disabilities, it does not reduce the couple’s love story to one of mere pity or sacrifice. It calmly depicts how a relationship that began as naturally as any between an ordinary man and woman collides with various real-world problems and ultimately leads to a breakup. And within that narrative, we see Josee gradually changing.
Through her encounter with Tsuneo, Jose stepped out into the world, faced the tiger she had feared, and swam up from the deep, dark sea. Although Tsuneo ultimately left Jose, the world she experienced has not disappeared. Even though she is alone again, Jose will never return to the person she once was.
In that sense, this film is not merely a sad love story. Once the movie ends, it makes you reflect once again on what love is, what it means for a person to change, and how life goes on even after experiencing a love that cannot be shared.
I love movies like this—the kind that make you want to sit there for a while after the credits roll, the kind that quietly linger in your heart without needing to shout about how moving they are. Scenes like the one showing an empty house without a single line of dialogue, Tsunéo suddenly bursting into tears on the street, and José living her life alone while cooking for herself will stay with me for a long time.
This power of the film allows the audience to remain silent and reflect for a moment even after the credits roll.
It was a film that made me realize how much I appreciate honest cinema. I’m also truly grateful that it introduced me to Satoshi Tsumabuki, a wonderful actor who is also incredibly handsome.