"Still Walking": Learning to Love

"Still Walking," a film directed and written by Hirokazu Koreeda, is a movie that focuses on the daily life of a traditional Japanese family.

Early in the morning, Toshiko, the mother in the Yokoyama family, begins her day with her visiting daughter, Chinami. They work together, washing carrots, peeling white radishes, shelling green beans, mashing radishes, slicing mushrooms, and stewing meat. Chinami's husband and two children return home, drink iced barley tea, praise it, and the children start eating ice cream. Meanwhile, the second son, Ryota, and his re-married widow, Yukari, along with Yukari's son, Atsushi, are on their way home by train for a family reunion visit. Today marks the anniversary of the death of their eldest brother, Junpei, who died 15 years ago while rescuing a child from drowning. As soon as Ryota's family enters the door, they join the kitchen activities by shelling corn and making corn pancakes. To add to the celebration, Toshiko has ordered a $170 sushi meal, featuring the highest grade sea urchin sushi. The atmosphere in the entire kitchen is lively and bustling.

In this lively family, the only discordant voice is that of the retired doctor father, Kyohei. He has a bad temper and a stubborn personality. However, once he smells the aroma of fried corn pancakes, he immediately comes out to eat them. Despite making inappropriate comments in front of Yukari about the challenges of remarrying with children, he kindly gives Atsushi pocket money and encourages him to consider becoming a doctor instead of a piano tuner, as Atsushi desires.

Every character in the Yokoyama family is remarkably well-rounded. They all have nuanced qualities that make them rough yet delicate, hard yet soft, vulgar yet incredibly endearing. For example, while the mother disapproves of widows bringing their children into the house, she willingly gives her precious kimono to Yukari and prepares toothbrushes and towels for Atsushi, who is not her biological grandson. Similarly, although Chinami tries to mediate between different parties, she still complains about her parents' favoritism towards her deceased older brother while chatting with her husband in the car after leaving home. Despite finding his mother annoying and his father unreasonable, Ryota proudly wears the cheap pyjamas his mother bought from a train station stall and secretly gives her pocket money even when he is unemployed. However, he rarely calls home and fails to understand the deep concern hidden in his elderly parents' hearts.

Misunderstandings and lack of communication among family members are often trivial matters that go unaddressed. People are too proud to explain them at the time and too embarrassed to admit their narrow-mindedness later on. Many grievances remain unresolved, small conflicts quietly accumulate, and trivial matters are forgotten over time. Unknowingly, life becomes a series of bumps and bruises. In fact, an ordinary day in the Yokoyama family encapsulates the entirety of life - a mix of joy and sorrow, satisfaction and regret. Is there a better way? Is there a more perfect life?

When Ryota's family left, Toshiko insisted on shaking hands with everyone, making everyone uncomfortable. Kyohei even thought she was being ridiculous. Toshiko, still wearing her kitchen apron, slowly climbed the concrete stairs, hunched over, and without looking up, she said, "Just ignore my hand thing. I'll always hold onto you no matter where we go."

Years later, when Ryota's family visited their parents' graves, they saw a beautiful yellow butterfly flying gracefully. Unknowingly, Ryota told his daughter the story of how the cabbage butterfly his mother had given him turned into a yellow butterfly during winter. Then, a long shot was taken from a tree canopy along the parking lot in the cemetery, gradually rising. The camera view shifted from Ryota's family's backs to the sky, the light suddenly dimmed and then slowly brightened. The gray-blue sky, light clouds, deep blue sea, dense rooftops by the seaside, and patches of greenery all came into view. The scene stopped, and time seemed to stand still.

In "Still Walking," the Yokoyama family shares three meals, takes two walks, and talks for an entire day. The number of exchanges between people is countless. The traditional Japanese home has a beautiful backyard with colorful flowers and delicate plants, a hallway floor that shines like glass, and neatly arranged items. The food, drinks, soups, and rice are meticulously prepared, with large and small bowls covering the entire table. However, the broken tiles in the bathroom remain scattered on the ground, never repaired. Despite the tension between the father and son due to the death of their eldest son, they still gather together to eat, share dishes, drink, and listen to records. Director Hirokazu Koreeda's camera work is steady and composed, with exquisite composition and clear, clean colors. The background music is gentle, delicate, and poignant. This warm-toned story is not just about regrets in life; it's about the intertwining of life's fast pace and its slow rhythm. Unexpectedly, what emerges is an endless sigh, a heartfelt attachment to life's original state, and deep love hidden beneath a detached surface.

Facing the unstoppable flow of time, imperfections are like a sieve. Without those regrets, memories won't last long. Without problems, even existence itself becomes less authentic. Through countless minor pains and big and small flaws, we finally learn in our ordinary lives - that's love.