Matt Cooper Films

See Hear Love (2023) by John H. Lee

A popular manga artist, Shinji Izumoto (Tomohisa Yamashita), begins to experience headaches, possibly due to long hours working on his series “Only for You”. With the series due to be turned into a major film and Shinji’s fortunes on the rise, tragedy strikes when he his blinded by an illness. With the series on hiatus, one of his fans, a deaf woman, Hibiki Aida (Yuko Araki), sets out to find him. After a difficult initial encounter these two fall in love and begin a relationship. But more trouble lies ahead as an admirer of Hibiki’s (Mahiro Takasugi) has his sights set on her; and Shinji’s condition turns out to be more serious that first thought.

Based on a Korean web manga, “See Hear Love” is a stylish romantic drama that tugs at the heartstrings, with the tried and tested formula of love and tragedy. Both Shinji and Hibiki are sympathetic characters and we see a little of their struggles, but their relationship also develops into something beyond their shared experience with disabilities. Tomohisa Yamashita captures the frustration of the artist becoming blind, his despair matched only by his determination when he meets Hibiki; while Yuko Araki’s expressive performance makes her likeable and relatable despite uttering very few words. The two create a couple who are likeable and sympathetic with Shinji’s desire to complete his manga, and Hibiki’s strong-willed support for him and help in overcoming his loss of sight. This relationship is the backbone of the film and an emotional rollercoaster. The film also features a subplot involving the attempts of another man to steal Hibiki away from Shinji and this is where things come a little off the rails. The supporting cast involved in these seem to be acting in a completely different movie, and every time it intrudes in the main narrative it is mostly superfluous comic relief. It ties in to the story as things progress, but for the most part it feels like a separate slapstic romantic comedy has been spliced into this heartwarming central plot. That aside, there is enough to recommend the film that this tonal inconsistancy can be largely shrugged off. In a film focusing on both a loss of sight and hearing, the film’s visuals and score are beautiful, emphasising the value both main characters put on these senses. John H. Lee’s crisp direction and glossy cinematography bring a Christmas-card sentimentality to the film; while the score, by Joon-tai Kim and Jae-Hyuk Seo, featuring classical guitar, piano and strings, and a swelling emotional theme, is in the best traditions of the blockbuster tragi-romance.

“See Hear Love” is self-aware enough to recognize that the circumstances of the plot are entirely intended to provoke sympathy. Shinji’s own manga is in this same genre and there is discussion of the overuse of tragic clichés employed to such effect. We feel instant sympathy for Shinji and Hibiki due to their situation, but neither demand pity, both being wilful, intelligent and strong individuals. They do not feel their disabilities, remaining alert to the world around them. The beauty in their relationship is the focus on togetherness and both physical and emotional proximity. Unable to see or hear, instead the most important quality they offer one another is simply being there. A second subplot concerns Shinji’s attempts to see his artistic vision honoured, while his publisher attempts to force a crass, melodramatic ending to his series. Shinji’s belief in the power of love to transform lives and to overcome all obstacles provides the strength he needs to continue. A sentimental love story that creates a unique couple in Shinji and Hibiki. Despite some lurches into cliché itself, the film presents an intelligent look at both disability and romance in the modern era.

Matt Cooper Films

Hana and Alice (2004) by Shunji Iwai

Best friends Hana (Anne Suzuki) and Alice (Yu Aoi) begin to drift apart after starting high-school. Hana begins following an older boy they saw at the train station, later discovering he is a senior in her school Rakugo club. When the boy, Masashi (Tomohiro Kaku), bangs his head against a shutter door, Hana seizes the opportunity, telling him he’s lost his memory and that he recently confessed his love for her. Meanwhile, Alice is scouted by a talent agency and begins auditioning for parts in commercials. Hana’s dishonesty grows as she later tells Masashi that he used to date Alice too leading to a complicated love triangle between the three.

“Hana and Alice” is a beautiful depiction of teenage friendship, with incredible performances from the two leads. The chemistry of Anne Suzuki and Yu Aoi is enjoyable from beginning to end, with their believable quirks and clear affection for each other making them instantly likeable. What is a fairly straightforward love triangle is enlivened with the plot of Masashi being told he has lost his memory. The film follows a traditional high-school narrative, building to a school festival at the end, with romantic dates, friends falling out and making up, and a touching look at Alice’s somewhat chaotic home life with her mother. The script captures so many relatable moments, with the girls shivering in the cold waiting for a train, or gently ribbing one another over their appearance, and luxuriates in simply spending time with these two characters. Writer and director Shunji Iwai also created the charming score captures the youthful atmosphere and compliments the stunning cinematography by Noboru Shinoda which brings a magic to the everyday environments of the girl’s lives: school, parks, cafes and the seaside.

In Hana and Alice, Iwai creates two likeable protagonists with believable backstories. The characterization and performances are engaging and make you keen to spend time with them and find out what will happen along the way. Although a disservice to Tomohiro Kaku, who is great as Masahiro, his character serves simply to offer a mirror through which the two girls are able to reflect on their own feelings and relationship. The film’s central theme remains friendship and how this can be maintained when people’s lives and interests begin to diverge. Hana and Alice are shown as literally and figuratively in tune with one another at the beginning, even mirroring one another’s movements. The audience is fully invested in hoping that this friendship will not be destroyed. We learn a little of Alice’s backstory, and briefly about Hana, but the film manages to suggest so much more, propelling the story through character rather than plot. A fantastic high-school film that breaths fresh life into the traditional teenage girl drama.

Matt Cooper Films

The Legend and Butterfly (2023) by Keishi Otomo

A historical epic detailing the relationship between Nobunaga Oda (Takuya Kimura) and his wife Nohime (Haruka Ayase). Oda is a figure who looms large over Japan’s warring states period, one of the most recognizable names of the time with a reputation as a ferocious military commander. “The Legend and Butterfly” begins with the lord as a young man; immature, inexperienced, and spoiled by his position. He is married to the daughter of a neighbouring lord in an attempt to broker a truce between their two regions. The woman, Nohime, is more than a match for the precocious young man; fiercely intelligent and beautiful there is a suggestion she has been sent there as an assassin by her father. Despite a mutual distrust and even hatred between the two, as the years go by they learn to work together and come to love one another, with Oda’s victories in part due to the tactical brilliance of Nohime. The film spans several decades and documents Oda’s rise to great power, becoming the recognizable warlord of historical record.

Little is known of Nohime and Nobunaga Oda’s relationship and writer Ryota Kosawa therefore takes certain liberties with their story. It is exciting to see the characterisations of these historical figures and both Takuya Kimura and Haruka Ayase give moving performances with great chemistry together. It is far from a traditional love story, even with the film-maker’s attempts to make things more romantic and fitting to modern sensibilities. Instead the film retains a sense of reality in showing that these matches were often more political alliances than passionate affairs. The fantastic production value is evidenced in everything from the large casts and sets, the colourful costumes that bring the period to vivid life, and the occasional action sequences (director Keishi Otomo previously worked on the Rurouni Kenshin series and his skill as an action director shows here). Naoki Sato’s score further adds to this sense of a lavish epic. The main failing of the film is in a lack of a unifying narrative; told over such a long period it often feels more like a beautifully rendered docu-drama than a love-story or historical epic. There are many spectacular sequences, but they feel a little disjointed. The story of Oda and Nohime is interesting, but the subtlety of their relationship and adherence to historical accuracy (they are often apart and moments of romance between them are sparse) may leave some viewers cold, especially if you are expecting something more melodramatic. The second strand to the story, that of Oda’s transformation from an inept young lord to the fearsome and merciless commander, is likewise interesting, but often omits the why and how of him becoming this dispassionate leader. In attempting to balance these two strands the film falls somewhere between an out-and-out romance and historical action film. Early on we see a hint that perhaps the relationship between the two will have some relevance to how his military career developed, but this connection becomes more tenuous as the film progresses.


“The Legend and Butterfly” is an impressive historical epic, with incredible set-piece moments and two standout performances from its leads. The tragedy of both characters seems to be the time in which they were born. Both express an interest in foreign musicians they see at a fair, and in a dream sequence towards the end of the film, Oda imagines a possible alternate future for the two where they set sail from Japan to travel together as a peaceful, loving couple. In other ages this might have been possible, but their fates were set by being born in a militaristic society that prided prowess in battle above all else and often denigrated women to the role of child-bearers. The unconventional story, awkwardly balancing facts with a more romanticised fiction, can seem strange at times, but there is so much to enjoy here, from the fantastic sets and costumes, excellently choreographed fight-sequences, and two stand-out performances from the charismatic leads.

Matt Cooper Films

On the Edge of Their Seats (2020) by Hideo Jojo

Two friends in their final year of high-school, Asuha (Rina Ono) and Hikaru (Marin Nishimoto), arrive to watch a baseball game, a sport they know very little about. They are joined by fellow student, Fujino (Amon Hirai), who used to play but has since given up, and later the studious Miyashita (Shuri Nakamura) whose reasons for being there are less clear. Despite the urging of the enthusiastic English teacher, Mr. Atsugi, the four are at first uncomfortable cheering on their team who are playing much stronger opponents.

“On the Edge of their Seats” plays out almost as a one-act theatre piece, with the majority of the action taking place on the bleachers at the baseball game. We never see the field or players, instead the camera is firmly fixed on these often indifferent spectators, creating a unique dynamic as we see their reactions to the game and their discussions, and attention, wandering to and from the baseball. The actors are believable in their roles, with their naturalistic performances helped by a well observed, lightly comic script from Tetsuya Okumura. The story moves deftly from the humour of Asuha and Hikaru’s complete ignorance about the sport they are watching to themes of strained friendships, broken dreams and unrequited love. We learn that Asuha and Hikaru are members of the drama club, their hopes of participating in regional finals dashed by Hikaru catching the flu at the last minute; Fujino is pining for the quiet Miyashita; top student Miyashita is dealing with losing out on top place on a recent test to her romantic rival Kusumi (Hikari Kuroki). The script builds all the elements quietly, slowly introducing new strands to the story and creating believable characters who have a good chemistry together. It cuts away from the stands occasionally, using the setting of the baseball stadium well to break up the action.

A fun, coming-of-age film that takes a unique approach to its familiar themes. The friendship of Asuha and Hikaru being tested; the faltering romances of several characters; the stress surrounding test results; and teenage angst, are all encapsulated in a single afternoon spent watching baseball. Although we do not see the game, baseball is used as an allegory for life throughout. The idea of the outfielders, paid little attention until they make a mistake, or the incompetent batter who nevertheless remains determined to succeed, provide parallels with the way society treats those unlucky individuals who fail to make centre stage. The idea of the characters as observers, rather than players, emphasises this idea, with them sitting as far away from the ‘action’ as they can. The teacher character of Atsugi, as might be expected in a teen drama, offers several words of wisdom throughout. The four characters, who have largely given up on their dreams, are shown that it is not the result but the effort that is most important; and that people should continue chasing their dreams no matter how many setbacks they encounter.

Matt Cooper Films

Bittersand (2021) by Tomoya Sugimoto

When scurrilous rumours are written about high-school student Eriko (Ayane Kinoshita), classmate Akito (Yuki Inoue) decides to take the blame. This seemingly frivolous decision leads to seven years of regret as Akito is unable to forget what happened following the incident. Now grown up, Akito’s friend, Yusuke (Riku Hagiwara), an amateur film-maker suggests using their high-school experiences as the focus of a documentary, and the two attend a reunion with plans of revealing all about what really happened.

“Bittersand”, requires suspension of disbelief that the rumours surrounding Eriko would have led to her total ostracisation and would still be relevant to the characters seven years later. Sadly, the moment of revelation is more likely to provoke a shrug rather than any sense of surprise. If something more serious than the juvenile relationship troubles and teenage pregnancy were the reason for the class still harbouring any interest in what happened, it could have been more impactful. The film itself even appears to acknowledge this with one fellow former-student laughing off Akito and Yusuke’s presentation and wondering why the others aren’t willing to simply get on with the reunion afterwards. The film misses a chance to focus on things that would be more interesting, such as why one characters physical appearance changes drastically, how one character managed to raise a child as a teen mother, or even giving us an insight into how the original incident affected the characters. The film is not all bad, with a mixed bag of performances, and some great direction. Perhaps the worst you could say about the film is that it is underwhelming; that it answers questions that the audience weren’t interested in asking.

One of the themes of “Bittersand” is how memories and experiences can linger and affect our later lives. Even something as seemingly insignificant as the events of Akito’s high-school years stay with him. The use of frequent flashbacks is an effective way to show this, emphasising the idea that past and present are inextricably interlinked, and our consciousness often drifts from one to the other without distinction. As discussed the film often misses out on exploring its most interesting elements. The ideas of infidelity, regret, the importance of the truth and the impact of malicious rumours, and the unreliability of memories, are left to wither on the vine. A fairly innocuous young adult melodrama that will appeal to people who like high-school gossip. The moment of exposure, with a criminal investigation style chart up on the blackboard is absurdly over-the-top, perhaps suggesting that the film is intentionally comedic.