Emotional Subtlety

AKASHI (2025) is a project that would traditionally be described as a drama, but I like to name it an emotional film.

It’s easy to see when a project has been made with so much love, care, and most importantly thought. There’s a beautiful coordination between the visual and the auditory, communicating the characters’ emotions. We witness a wonderful series of small moments that reveal so much culturally, as well as through the dynamics in which the story unfolds. The best example, so brilliant and simple, is the way the shoes are arranged at the entrance of the home. The way the film transitions from one scene to another simply flows, making sound the protagonist without being overwhelming. I must mention as well that the decisiones regarding color are something  I haven't seen in a while.

Pacing, which is always one of my biggest critiques, is something that felt just right. The film lingers when it needs to and recognizes when it's time to move one. I never felt that weird anxiety when a scene is too long. In fact it was quite the opposite, I felt that I wanted more from certain moment, which is the better feeling to have. To you wish to have more from a film, is something rare nowadays. Maybe that's the intention behind it.

The dialogue is one of the parts that truly stands out to me. There’s a perfect balance between ordinary conversation and something that could be called poetry. We have a contrast of profound moments, and peculiar moments that force a laugh. Each character has a very strong essence that complements not only the world but the story itself. You know it’s a good script when you can clearly see every actor portraying different facets of a family dynamic. 

But you can’t call it a good picture without mentioning that you’re traveling with Kana through a profound story. What is it about? It’s about love, grief, time, distance. About the complexities of life itself. It made me question my own decisions and recall great moments. It made me miss my grandparents and remember my heartbreaks. It honestly made me cry. In the end, we are left with a comforted heart that yearns for them.

I think that when we watch films not in a foreign language, or at least in a language we don’t understand, we sometimes fear to miss references or struggle to fully grasp the characters. Fortunately, that’s not the case here. The most difficult thing to achieve is to connect an entirely foreign audience, not only because of a language or traditions, but through unfamiliar circumstances and make it resonate at home. The director, writer, and protagonist of this project, Mayumi Yoshida, managed to make an entire theater cry, laugh, and reflect throughout the film.

If you dare to reconnect with your emotions, I challenge you to watch this film. For now, I recommend simply counting to five (in Japanese) whenever you miss someone, so you can feel accompanied again.