It’s Tough Being a Man

Torajiro Kuruma Kiyoshi Atsumi returns to his birthplace, the old neighborhood of Shibamata in Katsushika, Tokyo, after a long absence that began with a fight when he was just fourteen. He arrives in the midst of the Taishakuten temple’s Koshin Shinko Festival, a colorful, almost ceremonial backdrop that mirrors the emotional mix of nostalgia and restlessness tugging at him. In a impulsive burst of energy, he dives into the festival procession, letting the crowd carry him along as if riding a memory back to a place he once knew so well. The scene abruptly shifts to a more intimate stage—the family confectionery shop, Toraya—where a teary reunion unfolds with his uncle and aunt and, most importantly, his sister Sakura Chieko Baisho. The shop, its sweets, and the familiar scent of rice flour and sugar provide a fragile comfort as the siblings and their elders navigate the fragility of time that has stubbornly kept them apart.

The next day brings a social moment that tests Tora’s boundary-pushing instincts. Sakura steps into a matchmaking meeting, or Miai, with the son of a company president, a pairing arranged with traditional expectations in mind. Tora’s boorish humor and heavy, drunken bravado during the proceedings undermine Sakura’s prospects and cast a long shadow over the family’s plans for her future. The tension peaks in a fierce quarrel with his uncle—an outburst that seems to puncture any lingering sense of belonging Tora might have found at Toraya. He leaves, a man caught between a past he cannot fully reclaim and a future that feels out of reach.

In the following month, the journey continues beyond Tokyo as Tora travels with foreign guests and ends up in Nara, a change of pace that allows him to breathe and see the world through fresh eyes. It is there, away from home, that he encounters Fuyuko, the daughter of Gozen-sama Chishû Ryû, a connection that blossoms with an unexpected tenderness. The romance that unfurls between Tora and Fuyuko creates a tender counterpoint to the chaos he leaves behind, signaling a possible new start away from old habits. When they return to Shibamata, their time together begins to resemble something more settled, something that hints at permanence, even if fleeting.

Back in the familiar confines of Sakura’s life, love begins to take shape in a different direction. Sakura meets Hiroshi, a print shop worker whom she eventually grows to trust and care for. Hiroshi is played by Gin Maeda, and his straightforward honesty starts to erode the doubts that Tora had about a life Sakura could have with him. Despite Tora’s initial doubts about Hiroshi—rooted in the all-too-human concern that Hiroshi isn’t climbing the conventional ladder—Hiroshi’s earnest feelings for Sakura win him a place in the family’s regard. The union of Sakura and Hiroshi marks a meaningful shift in the household’s dynamics, one that Tora seems to begin accepting, even as his own romance with Fuyuko remains a fragile thread in the fabric of his life.

As the relationships deepen, the narrative threads pull tighter around Tora. His bond with Fuyuko—though intense and meaningful—proves to be uneven, never quite maturing into the lasting bond one might hope for in such a story. Meanwhile, Fuyuko’s life intersects with the broader world as she becomes part of an evolving web of connections once she is introduced to another man, a development that stirs embarrassment and concern within the family. The emotional weight of this revelation lands squarely on Tora’s shoulders, and the consequences ripple through the clan, culminating in a moment of collective realization that reverberates beyond the immediate circle.

The household’s response to these revelations is tempered by the shared history that binds them. The narrative threads weave together as the family, and Tora, confront the consequences of choices made and paths not taken. In the wake of these events, the aging, reflective voice of the story guides us toward a quiet acceptance that life’s messy, imperfect romance can endure even when plans derail. After a year of distance and introspection, Tora reaches out with a letter of advice for Fuyuko, urging her to help care for his sister Sakura and her new baby. It is a gesture that embodies a sense of responsibility and affection, a wish for lasting care that transcends the shifting tides of romance and time.

This story, grounded in the intimate rituals of family life and the pull of old ties, remains tender and observational in tone. Its humor is gentle and human, never cruel, and its emotional beats arrive not as melodrama but as a nuanced portrait of a man trying to navigate love, loyalty, and the obligations that come with family. The world of Shibamata—its stalls, temples, and everyday rituals—serves not just as a backdrop but as a living character that shapes every choice and every reunion. The result is a rich, patient meditation on the costs and rewards of staying true to one’s kin, even when the self keeps wandering toward other possibilities.

• Note on the cast: Sakura Chieko Baisho and Tsune Kuruma Chieko Misaki anchor the family’s heart, while Gozen-sama Chishû Ryû and Hiroshi Suwa Gin Maeda chart the evolving relationships within the same household. The emotional core centers on Torajiro Kuruma Kiyoshi Atsumi and his sister Sakura, whose lives are inevitably touched by the kindness and mistakes of those around them. Fuyuko Sachiko Mitsumoto provides a counterpoint of young, hopeful love, as does Hiroshi, whose sincerity helps bridge gaps that seemed insurmountable at first glance. The film’s quiet, character-driven arcs unfold with a steady rhythm, inviting the audience to reflect on the enduring ties that bind families together, even as the world around them continues to change.