Unlike popular romance films, ‘Josee, the Tiger and the Fish’ depicts the realistic love between Kumiko, who has a disability, and Tsuneko, who does not, and deals with the separation that comes at the end of love.
Realistic Love, Josee’s Parting
Popular romance films often have predictable or clichéd plots. They often depict couples meeting, overcoming various conflicts to achieve dramatic love (Notting Hill, 1999), or present unrealistic (About Time, 2013), clichéd, or even childish narratives. While growing weary of romance films filled with happy endings, I discovered the movie ‘Josee, the Tiger and the Fish’. This film tells the love story between Kumiko (or Josee, played by Chizuru Ikezawa), a disabled woman unable to walk due to her condition, and the able-bodied male lead Tsuneko (Satoshi Tsumabuki), portraying a realistic love between a disabled and non-disabled person. What exactly is realistic love? As someone currently in a relationship, I consider ‘realistic love’ a profoundly important question. Thus, I watched ‘Josee, the Tiger and the Fish’ seeking an answer. And unbelievably, the realistic love the film sought to convey was, precisely, parting.
At the end of love lies parting. We simply don’t know when that parting will come. Throughout our time loving someone, we deliberately turn away from that ‘reality’—the unknown arrival of parting. This film is the story of Kumiko (Josee), who prepared for parting while loving, and because of that, could only love that man even more.
The Story of Kumiko and Tsunéo
The heroine, Kumiko, was an orphan and a disabled person with a crippled leg. Furthermore, because her grandmother feared the outside world’s social gaze, Kumiko would sneak out in the early morning with her grandmother’s help, riding in a stroller to avoid encountering others, secretly observing the outside world. Tsunéo (the male protagonist), who happened to meet Kumiko in the early morning, helped her see the outside world, and the two gradually developed feelings for each other. Unlike Kumiko, Tsuneko had a girl who liked him: Kanae (played by Ueno Juri), who was noticed at school for her pretty looks. And Tsuneko had romantic feelings not only for Kumiko but also for Kanae. Early in the film, Tsuneko’s position between the two women, Kumiko and Kanae, was unclear. However, after Kumiko’s grandmother suddenly dies, Tsunéo cannot abandon Kumiko, who cannot live without help. He leaves Kanae and goes to Kumiko. Kumiko develops feelings of love for Tsunéo, and they begin living together. Thus, the film’s first half is a continuous, tender love story. Then, gradually, parting approaches.
A Fleeing Farewell, Tsunéo’s Realistic Love
A year after moving in with Kumiko, Tsunéo’s feelings begin to shift, and his actions reveal this change. While out in the city for work, Tsunéo happens to run into Kanae, who is working part-time. Kanae was furious that her boyfriend (Tsuneko) had been stolen by a disabled woman (Kumiko). Unintentionally revealing her miserable state to Tsuneko, her pride shattered, and she burst into tears. Yet Tsuneko found her appearance endearing, comforting her as if to console her. Gradually, however, he began acting in ways that distanced him from Kumiko. For instance, during a trip with Kumiko, he tells her, “Stay still, I’m driving,” when she marvels at the outside world from the car. He also says, “I need to buy a wheelchair,” because carrying Kumiko around is becoming too difficult, which makes her feel hurt. Furthermore, the scene where he struggles to respond to his sister’s phone call asking, “Are you tired?” indirectly shows that Tsunéo feels increasingly burdened by Kumiko as time passes. After several more months, Tsunéo ultimately breaks up with Kumiko and (shockingly) returns to Kanae.
In the film’s opening, Tsuneko’s love for Kumiko was pure and heartfelt. That’s why the scene where he breaks up with Kumiko and approaches Kanae again felt not just shocking, but downright betrayal. However, in the film’s final scene, Tsuneko reveals his true feelings through the following monologue:
“It was a simple breakup. There were many reasons, but… no, actually, there was only one. I ran away.”
Furthermore, immediately after breaking up with Kumiko, Tsuneko walks down the street with Kanae and suddenly bursts into tears, delivering the following soliloquy:
“Sometimes you break up and stay friends, but not with Jose (Kumiko).”
What was the reason he ran away from Kumiko? It could be interpreted in various ways: the growing sense of responsibility, burden, or guilt he felt while loving Kumiko; or the different kind of love he felt for another woman (Kanae). But the biggest reason was likely his belated realization of reality. When he first fell in love with Kumiko, Tsunéo couldn’t see reality (Kumiko’s disability). He might have even thought it was something he could overcome. But as time passed, just like when he said, “I need to buy a wheelchair,” he began to become conscious of Kumiko’s disability, which had been obscured by his love. Just as Kumiko’s grandmother said when she kicked Tsuneko out of the house early in the film, “Young man, I beg you, don’t come here. That child (Kumiko) is disabled, and someone like you couldn’t handle it,” Tsuneko ultimately couldn’t handle Kumiko’s reality and ran away.
Why did he break down in tears the moment he left Kumiko’s house after the breakup? This scene reveals that Tsunéo’s escape wasn’t entirely his own choice. If it had truly been a ‘simple breakup’ as he claimed, he wouldn’t have been left with lingering emotions strong enough to make him weep. He wouldn’t have run away either. Through Tsunéo’s escape and his sobbing scene, I understood that his breakup was an involuntary decision, a surrender to reality. His return to Kanae, his ex-girlfriend and a woman of enviable beauty, was the result of yielding to reality. Therefore, Tsunéo’s love was pragmatic, and his breakup was incomplete.
Kumiko’s farewell, known to be final, and thus perfect, and her intense love
Kumiko is an intelligent woman who reads and memorizes all the books her grandmother brings her from the street. She wishes to be called Jose. Jose is the protagonist of her favorite novel, ‘One Year Later’. During the film, Kumiko reads a passage from this novel:
“Someday, the day will come when I no longer love him.”
“And someday, I too will no longer love you. We’ll be lonely again, and everything will be just like that. There will only be the passage of a year.”
“Yes, I know.”
For Kumiko, disability is a part of life she was born with, and the harsh reality she faces. From her first meeting with Tsunéo to their parting, Kumiko never once forgot this fact. From the moment she fell in love with Tsunéo, Kumiko knew she was “someone like you (Tsunéo) couldn’t handle,” and like José in the novel, she knew “someday I won’t love you either.” The film poignantly shows Kumiko’s realistic attitude. Especially in the final scene, while Tsunéo sleeps, Kumiko looks at the fish in the room and says the following:
“From the deep sea, I swam out of there. To have the most erotic sex in the world with you. That place has no light, no sound, no wind, no rain—only silence. It’s not particularly lonely, because there was nothing there from the start. Just… slowly, slowly, time passes. I’ll never be able to go back there again. When you disappear someday, I’ll be like a lost seashell, rolling around alone at the bottom of the deep sea. That too… isn’t so bad.”
Throughout her love for Tsunéo, Kumiko never once forgot that this happiness would end in parting. That is why it is tragic. Moreover, in the scenes where Tsunéo gradually distances himself, Kumiko even appears pitiable and wretched. So, when they parted, I thought she would weep more bitterly than Tsunéo. But after the breakup, she does not weep. She simply returns to her daily life, calmly eating her meals, keeping the love she shared with Tsunéo locked away in her heart. The reactions of the two lovers to the same parting are starkly contrasting. Kumiko was able to face this truly unadorned farewell precisely because she never forgot her reality and was always conscious of the inevitable parting that lay ahead. Perhaps she loved him even more precisely because she knew this love would end. To leave no lingering regret. And so, at the moment of parting, she sends Tsuneko away without a single trace of lingering attachment. It’s frighteningly realistic.
Who prepares for parting from the very moment they begin to love? Most people focus solely on love, never thinking of parting. I, too, find discussing parting burdensome, lacking the courage to even consider it. Loved ones or those around us often treat talking about parting as taboo. You wouldn’t ask a couple happily together, “So, when are you going to break up with her?” But Kumiko was conscious of parting and prepared for it from the very beginning. But her method of preparation was unique. She loved Tsunéo completely, without reservation. Unlike Tsunéo, who was too busy avoiding the issue, Kumiko achieved a stronger love within that awareness. That’s why she could achieve a truly ‘simple farewell’. After watching the film, one question lingers: Is Tsunéo’s approach to love—ignoring the breakup and focusing solely on the love itself—the right way? Or is Kumiko’s approach—preparing for the breakup while loving—the right way? Perhaps realistic love means loving while simultaneously preparing for the breakup. Maybe we’ve been turning a blind eye to the reality of love.
