🎬 At the Bench (2024)
“Sceneries that you’re fond of change all of a sudden, and by the time you notice, they’re all gone. You begin to regret you didn’t visit more often.”
アット・ザ・ベンチ | Directed by Yoshiyuki Okuyama
Some movies don’t need grand plots or elaborate settings — just a single place and a handful of honest human moments. At the Bench is exactly that kind of film: quiet, simple, and deeply moving.
The story unfolds entirely around one park bench — the real protagonist of the movie. Like an old grandfather who has silently witnessed countless lives passing by, this bench holds fragments of joy, heartbreak, regret, and laughter. Through the conversations of strangers, lovers, friends, and family members, we glimpse the beauty and pain of everyday existence.
“Sceneries that you’re fond of change all of a sudden, and by the time you notice, they’re all gone. You begin to regret you didn’t visit more often.”
Okuyama’s direction feels intimate — as if we’re eavesdropping on life itself. The film is divided into several vignettes, each showing people who happen to sit on the same bench. Some moments are funny, others melancholic; some feel almost mundane, others painfully raw. Gradually, we learn that the park is being demolished — and the bench is the only thing left standing.
💔 The most touching story for me
The one that truly stayed with me was about two sisters.
One of them, driven by misguided love, becomes homeless. Years ago, she walked through the park with a man who told her how much he loved that place. After the park was destroyed, she decided to stay and guard the last remaining bench — as if by protecting it, she could preserve something of what he loved.
Her sister confronts her, saying:
“If you’re guarding this bench for that crappy guy, if you want him to know how much you love him… then I’m going to do the same thing to you. I’m staying here to guard you.”
That line hit me right in the heart. It turned the story from heartbreak into pure, unconditional love — the kind that doesn’t need to be romantic to be powerful. It’s one of those rare cinematic moments that make you whisper “yes, that’s what real love looks like.”
🛸 And then… the alien.
Because this is a Japanese film, there’s always room for the unexpected. One scene suddenly takes a surreal turn — one of the characters turns out to be an alien, and in the background, you can even spot a Godzilla-like figure. It’s absurd and touching at the same time, a perfect example of how Japanese cinema can blend deep emotion with quiet humor and playfulness.
🌸 Who is it for?
For anyone who loves Japanese storytelling, where simplicity hides depth.
For those who appreciate films that make you feel, reflect, and smile in the same breath.
And for anyone who’s ever had a place — a café, a park, a corner of the city — that quietly held their memories.
🪑 Final reflection
“Sceneries that you’re fond of change all of a sudden, and by the time you notice, they’re all gone. You begin to regret you didn’t visit more often.”
People, places, and moments vanish before we realize how much they meant.
So take that walk. Visit that bench. Call that person.
Because once they’re gone, you’ll wish you had stayed just a little longer.
