Love Letter: 9/10

The first 30+ minutes of "Love Letter" were quite boring, but if you ever watched the movie again, knowing how the plot unfolds, they'd be anything but boring. The premise of this is cool and a little creepy: a woman, enstranged by her husband's untimely death, sends a letter to his old address. She knows that the house was knocked down and built over by a highway years ago, but does it anyway, perhaps out of desperation. Unexpectedly, she gets a reply. From there, the story begins, and it takes a much different direction than how the plot sounds on paper. I can't really say too much without spoiling it, but this is a tragic movie, yet beautiful at the same time. There are flashback sequences that make you really care about several characters in the movie, including the deceased man (who is shown as a school boy in the flashbacks). This is so well set out, and almost brought me to tears at times. Movies like this are what make me want to see more and more Asian cinema, because this was an absolute epic.

This is one of the best romantic movies in my life. It doesn't have a kiss scene or even a hug scene like typical Hollywood movies, except for scenes recalling the past. The setting of the movie is winter in Japan. The director Suhnji Iwai made this film with many poetic scenes. I can recall the time when I was in high school. This movie reminded me of the pure feeling of love.

Hiroko (Miho Nakayama) goes to her ex-boyfriend's memorial service. Itsuki Fujii died on a mountain climbing accident two years ago. When she visits the house of her ex-boyfriend's mother, she finds his high school year book and takes notes of his address. She struggles to overcome the grief coming from losing him at that moment. She sends a letter to Itski Fujii because of romantic reason. Surprisingly, she receives an answer from him. Hiroko knows the address does not exist any longer after it was demolished for a highway construction.

Another female, Itsuki Fujii is a Hiroko's ex-schoolmate who shared the school days with him. Coincidentally she has the same name Itsuki Fujii and she tells many stories about male Itsuki's school life when they were young. Corresponding with letters for that time between them, Hiroko looks back on Itsukii's past and feels slightly jealous about female Itsukii. Moreover, female Itsukii finds another truth that she didn't know about the past. It seems like they are in a love triangle beyond time.

Miho Nakayama plays roles of two women-Hiroko and female Itski -at the same time. Her acting is impressive, especially her crying monologue is very famous. The story is sad but she does not play her role with grief all the time. She acts with the sad feeling in moderation. With her beautiful voice, her acting sparkles pure and elegant.

The director made this film with special camera effects. Some parts of this movie don't have the clear scene and instead he used the foggy, dreamlike scene intentionally. I think he wants to express his feeling with great delicacy, not directly.

Considering only this story, it may look boring but it isn't boring at all while I watch this movie. It is filled with enormous mountain views and poetic music. The background piano music is very popular among people.

In this film, the actors don't say many words but we can feel more than their lines because the dialogue is full of suggestions.The images from this movie still linger in my mind.

Hiroko loses her lover Fujii to a mountain climbing accident. Two years later, involved with his buddy, she struggles to overcome her grief.

Itsuki experienced puppy love-hate with a boy in school who coincidentally had the exact same name. Oh, and she can't shake a nasty cold.

Hiroko and Itsuki live at opposite ends of Japan, do not know each other, but could pass for twins.

From such small, incidental, trivial fragments of life Iwai weaves together a magical, deeply cathartic film. Hiroko and Itsuki exist in the same temporal moment, but travel through metaphysical time in opposite directions with regard to their feelings towards Fujii. Hiroko retreats from her love in order to grieve properly, and finally let go. Itsuki inches towards her memory of Fujii, finally waking up to the realisation that he was her first love. Neither Hiroko or Itsuki can make the journey without the other, their dialectical relationship propelling them both towards a confrontation of sorts with Fujii. Hiroko will bellow through her confrontation at a mountainside at dawn. A prosaic message, mundane even, one that repeats the first letter written in the film, but one that manages, as Hiroko cries it out again and again, to touch your soul. Itsuki is to be blind-sided by Fujii, when the secret of his obscure library-card project is revealed in a simple scribble, and Itsuki's fragile hopes come to fruition.

There are truly funny moments in this film - Itsuki pedalling the bike to provide light for Fujii to read, Ranran's manic take as the class nutter, and most of all the nervous laugh of Itsuki's unthinking uncle. It is also very touching at times, such as when the grandfather says he will not walk to the hospital, he will run (and then wonderfully undercut when he falls flat on his face). The whole thing together shimmers with a purity and vitality that words cannot do justice to, the photography has to be seen. Love Letter is a masterpiece from a living genius.