From left, Tomorowo Taguchi, Misuzu Kanno, Kento Nagayama and Fumino Kimura in Love Life (Oscilloscope Laboratories)

Marital bliss is an aspirational concept that often is admired from the outside—the subjective perspective is assumed more by others than the actual spouses. Such is the case in the marriage of Taeko (Fumino Kimura) and Jiro (Kento Nagayama), which is initially presented as though they may be living their happiest moments of their lives after one year of marriage. Neighbors, friends, and coworkers occasionally comment on the couple’s external happiness. Written and directed by Japanese director Koji Fukada, the drama Love Life takes its name from a Japanese pop song in a gesture that reveals the ambivalence between naïve romanticism and the story line’s unfolding, cruel reality.

The third member of this seemingly blessed home is Keita (Tetta Shimada), a six-year-old boy who biologically (and legally) is Taeko’s son from a previous relationship. The cheerful and adorable Keita confirms the family’s happiness in the eyes of others: how good mother Taeko has been and the nobility of Jiro for accepting someone else’s child as his own.

However, Jiro’s parents hold a different opinion. They resent their son’s decision to marry a single mother, and they maintain an attitude of cold courtesy toward their daughter-in-law, making veiled remarks about how much they desire the couple to conceive a grandchild who can be considered theirs. This partly explains why Jiro, in his effort not to add further discomfort on his parents, has not yet completed the legal process to adopt the child as his own, despite how much he loves Keita. During a party celebrating Jiro’s father’s birthday, any sign of marital bliss is endangered when a tragic event ruins the lives Taeko and Jiro have built so far. The specific moment represents a shock that is best left unrevealed. Yet, it’s precisely at this moment that the film reveals its true nature and ultimately becomes a melodrama of unusual subtleties.

The melodrama genre typically tends to exploit or sensationalize tragic events as a starting point for the story, which happens here. However, Love Life reformulates many aspects that define melodrama, as if it has shed emotional “hysteria” to unveil a purified form, almost free from excessive emotions. It may sound contradictory, but the result succeeds precisely because it remains true to melodrama’s basic components: a heroine who is always honest with her feelings, whose natural goodness cannot be corrupted; a lover willing to endure and wait for love; florid confessions close to poetry; and a love triangle involving a figure from the past: the reappearance of Park (Atom Sunada), Taeko’s former love and the biological father of Keita. Meanwhile, Jiro reconnects intimately with a former fiancée, Yamazaki (Hirona Yamazaki), who has remained as a coworker, unbeknownst to Taeko.

The cinematography by Hideo Yamamoto often focuses on enclosed spaces, yet the emotions inside them are progressively shifting. The apartment, which initially represents a warm nest, eventually becomes a cold mausoleum preserving painful memories. However, in a sequence set in South Korea—again, it’s best not to reveal how or why this occurs—a precious and bittersweet moment takes place during a rain-ruined party: A drenched Taeko, with an expression of absolute resignation, is the only partier willing to remain outside, surrounded by balloons decorations (an image brilliantly used for the movie’s poster).

These moments of quiet melancholy dignify a story whose plot could suspiciously sound like the kind of cheap soap opera that has sometimes contributed to melodrama’s bad reputation. In its delicate simplicity, Love Life is a refutation of that notion. It harnesses the visual and narrative richness that can be achieved through this genre to move and surprise. Fukada believes that some love stories can be told through prolonged silences and reconciled through tranquil walks, while still acknowledging that it is fair to save a place for sadness within the bounds of regained happiness.