
It is hard to condense what makes Katsuhito Ishii’s film The Taste of Tea so uniquely special, because it’s the kind of slice-of-life feature rarely seen, offering so much to admire in its creatively distinctive vision of everyday life. It’s a movie that blends eccentric surrealism with magic realism, all while having a warm sincerity that feels deeply human. There’s a playful humor to it, alongside equally meaningful drama. For Ishii, it’s an amalgamation of his influences, including childhood memories and his admiration for contemporary art and anime like the work of Hayao Miyazaki, filtered through his own unique spin on Japanese family dramas. More than 20 years later, its appeal still endures, and the recent acquisition by Film Movement, along with a supervised HD restoration, has allowed for renewed attention to admire this masterpiece.
Following his work on the animated sequences of Kill Bill, Katsuhito Ishii sought to move away from the more overtly kinetic tone of his earlier films, such as Shark Skin Man and Peach Hip Girl and Party 7. For The Taste of Tea, he opts for something more laid-back but with a dose of surrealism. Along with that, Ishii would develop the core visual identity before completing the screenplay, dedicating himself to detailed storyboarding and incorporating his deep appreciation for Japan’s landscapes. When the script was finished, it adopted a more episodic structure, unfolding as a series of interconnected vignettes tied together by the overarching story.

Set against a lush countryside, we follow the everyday activities of the Haruno family as they navigate their daily lives. The mother, Yoshiko, is an artist working on an animation project and receives additional artistic support and inspiration from the eccentric and creative grandfather, Akira. Meanwhile, the father, Nobuo, works as a professional hypnotist, while the uncle, Ayano, is a music producer. As for the children, the teenage son, Hajime, is navigating an awkward adolescent transition as he enters puberty, while the youngest, Sachiko, periodically finds herself in the presence of a big doppleganger.
Each member of the eccentric Haruno family has their own distinct personal journey and arc, while remaining deeply connected to one another. And yet, there’s even more going on in the beautiful setting of Tochigi Prefecture, filled with colorful residents who also have their own independent stories. A variety of unique circumstances play out, including some of these folks interacting with the Haruno family.

As mentioned, the story unfolds through an interconnected series of vignettes that progress at an intentionally slow, leisurely pace. What could have run into the trap of being a bloated, aimless mess that drags is instead a comfortable, warm experience that is incredibly entertaining and delightfully charming. The Taste of Tea captures family life in rural Japan through Katsuhito Ishii’s distinct directorial lens, which embraces absurdity while blending everyday quirks with surrealism, frequently emphasizing the characters’ inner psychology and lending the movie a dreamlike, magical realist quality. Sometimes, this even takes the form of exaggerated visuals, such as a train emerging from Hajime’s head, highlighting the heartbreak he feels after he fails to confess his feelings to his crush before she moves away, Sachiko’s giant doppleganger, which represents her anxieties about growing up, or a giant sunflower that symbolizes transcendence.

What’s more, The Taste of Tea is remarkably funny, as Ishii has a creatively varied sense of humor that is depicted throughout the film. Much of the charm comes from its surrealism set against everyday scenarios, with some of the funniest moments coming from its deadpan dialogue and understated reactions to the otherwise quirky events. There are plenty of memorable examples, such as Ayano telling a childhood ghost story with a ridiculous twist, a cosplay photoshoot on a train, a workplace rumor that escalates into slapstick chaos, and a bizarre yet hypnotic musical number about Japan’s mountainsides. Even something as outlandish as a family hypnosis session juxtaposed with a television program about a girl raised in the wild is played so straight that the contrast becomes ten times funnier. Some of the more endearing comedy also comes from wholesome interactions within the Haruno family, the relatability of the children’s anxieties, or improvised anime dubbing.
Comedy is merely one of its fortes, as The Taste of Tea also proves itself profoundly moving in its drama. Beyond its whimsical zaniness lies a more laid-back side that lets the audience breathe, get to know these folks, and become even more invested in their lives. Ishii is confident in making the audience laugh, but he also isn’t afraid to inject a little melancholy with an occasional sad moment. It helps that the transition from humor to drama flows naturally, without suffering from any jarring tonal imbalance.
A large part of what gives this film its heart is the relationships between the characters, with even the more self-contained storylines still feeling meaningfully interconnected. The dynamic within the Haruno family is not only entertaining but also deeply endearing, radiating a genuine emotional warmth. By extension, they also have unique bonds with other people outside the family household. A good example is with Hajime, who falls in love with the new student, Aoi Suzushi, and the two naturally bond through their shared interest in the board game Go. Another is with Ayano, who runs into his former girlfriend, Akira Terako, who is now married and runs a local store; despite having gone their separate ways, they still maintain a sincere friendship.

In balancing its humor and drama, The Taste of Tea is a profound celebration of the beauty found in everyday life. The film highlights how life can be absurd yet also incredibly joyful, with sadness and happiness coexisting. Time passes, but those moments can be appreciated and become cherished memories. These elements are especially embodied in the character of the grandfather, Akira Todoroki, an initially strange man with an eccentric personality and a peculiar habit of pausing to quietly observe moments in time as they unfold, which culminates in a powerful payoff.
The film highlights that the beauty found in daily mundanity lies in the relationships and bonds people form with one another. Even acknowledging our surroundings can reveal how beautiful life can be. Ishii visually demonstrates through the film’s setting, ranging from luscious pastoral landscapes, blooming cherry blossom trees, and green rice fields, to even more understated images, such as a bus trundling down a daytime road or a train rumbling through the night. These observations can even be mutually shared experiences, such as admiring a beautiful sunset.

For the Haruno family, all the actors deliver wonderful performances, with each one flourishing with the material they’re given. For the children, Hajime and Sachiko, Takahiro Sato and Maya Banno were fairly new performers at the time, but both are remarkably natural here as two kids trying to overcome their insecurities. As Uncle Ayano, Tadanobu Asano brings a laidback coolness while also acing his more comically deadpan moments. Nobuo and Yoshiko are both shown to be hardworking and devoted parents, with their dynamic balanced by their distinct, contrasting personalities: Tomokazu Miura embodies a more quietly stoic demeanor, whereas Satomi Tezuka is more vibrant and expressive. For the odd but loving grandfather, Akira, Tatsuya Gashuin is larger than life yet carefully controlled, knowing exactly when to pull back for the more nuanced, reflective moments.
With the wide array of colorful side characters, actors such as Tomoko Nakajima, Anna Tsuchiya, Ryo Kase, Kaiji Moriyama, and Ikki Todoroki are also excellent. Hideaki Anno, best known as the creator of Neon Genesis Evangelion, even makes an appearance here in a brief but endearing role as an anime director. Sprinkled throughout are plenty of subtle cameos by recognizable performers, including Rinko Kikuchi, Kirin Kiki, and Tsuyoshi Kusanagi.
Aesthetically, The Taste of Tea is gorgeous, featuring beautiful cinematography by Kosuke Matsushima. The imagery ranges from lusciously naturalistic to downright dreamlike, all while maintaining a cohesive visual identity. For the more visually imaginative moments, the special effects, storyboarded by Ishii himself, are strikingly surreal yet highly memorable, reflecting the director’s love for contemporary art. Like the visuals, Little Tempo’s music score is well-balanced, as it can be eccentric but also breezy and comforting, adding to the movie’s enchanting atmosphere.
The Taste of Tea is a whimsically delightful yet emotionally comforting film, as Katsuhito Ishii fuses his creative influences with everyday mundanity to deliver a Japanese family drama unlike any other. The final result is an atmospheric work of art that is strange yet so beautifully inviting.
