In 2019, director Rikiya Imaizumi created a television miniseries, His: I Didn’t Think I Would Fall in Love (available on Dekkoo), about the beginning of a romance between two teenage boys. Nagisa Hibino has left his family and now works in a hotel in a seaside town. We are never told why he and his parents didn’t get along, but we can infer that it has something to do with his awareness of and shame about his sexual orientation. Local girls develop crushes on him but, much as he would like to, Nagisa can’t respond. Nagisa’s passion is surfing. Shun Igawa comes to town to visit his father who works there, but the father goes off on a business trip leaving Shun alone. Shun is a taciturn boy who has trouble expressing his feelings, perhaps because he, like Nagisa, is frightened of revealing his sexual orientation.

Once the boys meet, Nagisa takes over Shun’s life. He teaches his friend how to surf and finds him a place to stay with the family of the owner of a surfboard shop. The man, his wife and his teenage daughter have become a surrogate family for Nagisa and quickly absorb Shun into their family unit. Over the five episodes, we see a growing attraction between the two boys that they cannot express until the last minutes of the series.

His: I Didn’t Think I Would Fall in Love is a touching, sometimes painful picture of how difficult it is to come out in conformist Japanese society. Nagisa talks about the rejection he experienced when he tried to come out to his best friend. It is fear of rejection that keeps them from confessing their love for each other.

Rikiya Imaizumi’s feature film His (2020, available on YouTube), picks up the story over a decade later. We see in a couple of brief flashbacks that Nagisa and Shun were lovers throughout their university years, but at the end of that period, Nagisa breaks off the relationship. Shun goes to work in a white collar job in a city, but rumors of his gay past surface. Shun’s response is to leave his job and. the city and move to a small town where he lives the life of a recluse, growing vegetables which he trades or sells for the things he needs. He has never totally gotten over his love for Nagisa. Fearing rejection, he has pretty much rejected other people. Much to his surprise, Nagisa shows up at his doorstep with a six-year-old daughter. After college, Nagisa tried unsuccessfully to become a professional surfer in Australia. After some unsatisfying affairs with men, he became involved with Rena, a translator. When she became pregnant, he married her and became househusband and primary parent to their daughter, Sora. However, proud he was of living a “normal” life, he couldn’t happily continue in his marriage. Though it takes him a while to admit it–neither man is great at communicating his feelings–Nagisa has come back because he has realized the power of his love for Shun.

One dimension of the film is how the two men will be able to develop a kind of marriage in this village, comprised mostly of elderly people. I have been to some of these lovely Japanese villages where almost all of the young adults have moved away, leaving communities of senior citizens trying to survive economically. Until Nagisa and Sora arrive, Shun has kept his distance from people he thinks wouldn’t approve of him. Will the two men be able to live as a couple in this community?

The larger question that takes up half the film is who will get custody of Sora. Nagisa has been her primary caregiver, but many things work against Nagisa’s bid for custody, none more than his relationship with another man. Rena is trying to balance the demands of a career with being a mother, a problem for women everywhere, but particularly one in a traditional male-dominated society. Rena is the only woman we see in a business meeting. The custody trial is equally cruel to Nagisa and Rena. Rena’s lawyer cannot hide his disgust at Nagisa’a relationship with another man, but Nagoya’s female attorney is equally cruel to Rena, showing no sympathy for the difficulties she faces as a working single mother.

The outcome of the trial will be no surprise, but how that outcome is reached is both startling and deeply moving. The final scene is a lovely creation of a tentative reconciliation, and a gesture of friendship on Rena’s part toward Shun. Young Sora, of course, would like to be with her mother, her father, and Shun. To what extent will she get her wish?

At over two hours, His may seem long and a bit slow to viewers who are not used to Asian films. The focus is on characters and the lingering closeups let us inside people who are not adept at verbalizing their feelings. Shun particularly is a man of very few words. His Miyazawa is brilliant at capturing with face and body language what Shun is feeling. HIs silent, shocked reaction to Nagisa’s arrival on his doorstep is brilliantly played. Nagisa is childlike, if not childish. We can see why he has such a strong bond with his six-year-old daughter. His emotional volubility is a contrast to Shun’s guardedness. Kisetsu Fujiwara shows us Nagisa’s vulnerability and essential kindness. Both actors convince us that these to men are destined to be together.

His is a lovely film, superbly written, directed and acted. I would give it five stars.