xjustcallmecrazyx

After watching 18x2, which referenced this film, I was curious to finally see what Love Letter was all about. I’d heard so much praise over the years — how poetic and emotional it is, how it’s considered a classic of Japanese cinema. And as someone who genuinely loves romance and melancholic stories, I expected to be moved by it. Unfortunately, I wasn’t.

Visually, Love Letter is beautiful. The snowy landscapes, soft light, and quiet tone give the film a haunting atmosphere. The acting, too, is subtle and sincere. But for all its beauty, I found the story strangely hollow. The pacing felt slow in a way that dulled the emotional impact rather than deepening it, and I struggled to connect with the characters.

One aspect that particularly bothered me was the relationship between the female lead and her new boyfriend. Instead of offering true emotional support, he came across as impatient and even self-serving — trying to speed up her healing so he could take the place of her deceased fiancé. It felt more like he was in love with the idea of her — or maybe even with who she reminded him of — than with her actual self. That dynamic left me uncomfortable, and the ending, instead of providing closure, felt emotionally unearned.

That said, there were a couple of scenes that really stood out: the quiet moment in high school when she tries to light his notebook with her bike lamp, and the rawness of her voice echoing through the snowy mountains. In those moments, I could feel what the film was trying to do — the weight of longing, the fragility of memory — but they were isolated flashes in an otherwise emotionally distant experience.

I know Love Letter means a lot to many viewers, and I respect that. I can appreciate its artistic quality and understand why it resonates with others. But for me, it lacked the emotional depth I was hoping for. Sometimes a film just doesn’t speak your language, and that’s okay. This one didn’t speak mine.