Fine, Totally Fine

In a quiet corner of the city, a modest second‑hand bookstore shares its shelves with the lingering scent of paper and the soft hum of everyday routine. Teruo Toyama lives a life of gentle inertia, dividing his days between a part‑time gig at a gardening company and an uneasy fascination with building off‑beat contraptions. The shop is more than a workplace; it is a refuge inherited from his father, a place where the rhythm of turning pages mirrors the slow pace of his own untethered twenties.

Across the bustling streets, Hisanobu Komori—an office worker with a quiet dedication to his craft—maintains a steady friendship with Teruo, their conversations often drifting toward the strange hobbies that keep both grounded. Their world is further shaped by Eitaro, Teruo’s father, whose recent bout of melancholy has nudged the younger man into new responsibilities, hinting at an unspoken promise of care that lingers in the background of each scene.

Into this understated tableau steps Akari Kinoshita, a kind‑hearted yet clumsy soul whose curiosity about a wandering river‑bank artist draws her into a series of unsteady ventures. A chance interview for a hospital‑cleaning position lands her in a job that swiftly proves to be a series of tiny catastrophes, each mishap underscoring her earnest desire to belong. Komori, observing her struggles, offers a tentative lifeline that bridges their separate paths, while the bookstore itself becomes a quiet stage for new possibilities.

The film unfolds with a gentle, observant tone, allowing the characters’ small anxieties and lingering hopes to color the everyday. As Teruo, Komori, and Akari navigate their intertwined routines, the story whispers of personal growth, quiet romances, and the subtle ways ordinary spaces can become catalysts for change. The atmosphere remains warm and introspective, inviting viewers to linger on the simple, unremarkable moments that often hold the most profound meaning.

Last Updated: August 20, 2025 at 17:46