What a moving movie this was, a story about the impact a mother has on the people around her, from her daughter to her estranged husband to a lost child to all the other people the mother meets on her journey. There are multiple different characters in this film, but for all intents and purposes, the three women of the family, Futaba, Azumi, and Ayuko, are the main characters and the ones whose stories the film is really trying to tell.

I found Futaba herself to be the sort of woman I wish I could be. Tough, resilient, refuses to quit or back down. And she could quit. She could give up, and you would completely understand why. As you discover over the course of the story, life has not been easy for her. But Futaba never quits. She has a determination that pushes her and pushes her and pushes her and that pushes the people around her as well. It's ultimately her perseverance that moves this movie along and makes you want to invest in the characters lives and well-being.

I appreciated all of the little ways Futaba worked to teach Azumi how to be brave and bold and courageous. First, she lead by example with the way she lived her own life. Second, she pushed Azumi when she needed to, sometimes thrusting her into the deep end where she had no choice but to swim. When Azumi stripped down to her underwear in the middle of class to reveal the new underwear Futaba had given her 'for that special moment when you need it', I was proud of her courage. I was also kind of uncomfortable. I certainly understand Why she did it, and I can admit that it was ultimately very affective at getting her point across, but I will never be totally comfortable with very young actors/actresses stripping down for the camera. There's just a feeling of exploitation that I cannot shake.

Regardless, the lessons Futaba had been teaching Azumi up to that point were clearly sinking in. I think the only thing Futaba did that I found disappointing and somewhat upsetting in her effort to teach Azumi to be more resilient was the way she revealed to Azumi that she was adopted. I was initially confused and somewhat turned off by the plot twist as it seemed like not only overkill for the story but a rather cruel approach. But it was handled in an interesting and ultimately positive way, and it was clearly set up to happen from the beginning of the story, so I can't say that it was poorly written or planned out. Now that I'm a few days away from having watched this film, I'm not as bothered by the twist as I was, and I think I've almost come around to it, but it might take another viewing for me to feel truly comfortable with it.

Futaba's easy acceptance of Ayuko is another particularly impactful part of the film. The way she embraces Ayuko into the fold of their family so naturally, not making a big deal out of it or making a point of it, but treating it like it's just a normal thing, 'Ayuko was an orphan, and now she's not. Could you please pass the ketchup?,' this could feel a bit insulting to us westerners, because we like to acknowledge the unfairness of the abandoned child's situation and openly discuss it so as to give the child the space to express their own feelings. And I won't lie and say that I Like Japan's non-response way of dealing with difficult situations like this one. But in a culture like Japan where so many things are often left unsaid and left unaddressed and just flat out ignored, I do think it was the most thoughtful and appropriate way of dealing with the situation if you're Not going to bring it all out into the open and talk it through.

Now, throughout the movie, you think Futaba cares so much for Azumi and Ayuko because she's just a deeply giving and loving person (and I think that is still part of the reason), but you discover towards the end that there's another more secret reason, something that connects her to these two girls in a deeply emotional way and makes her all the more determined to give them the best chance in life they can get.

And that is that Futaba was an orphan herself.

What's particularly impactful about this reveal is that you can see how easy it would have been for Futaba to say 'these kids are not my problem.' We see in many other Japanese films and dramas, etc. that being an orphan in Japanese culture is not exactly accepted or understood by broader society, and those who are orphans or from deeply broken homes typically hide this fact about themselves from others once they get older. But another, equally unfortunate, aspect of this is that those who are/were orphaned, etc. often refuse to associate with anyone else who was/is orphaned as well. The shame associated with being an orphan, and the reminder it can give you of your own shame, can be particularly potent in many societies like Japans.

This is where Futaba's unwavering commitment to her own principles shines the most. Not only does Futaba refuse to do this to Azumi and Ayuko, refuses to abandon them like she was abandoned, like they have both already Been abandoned, she instead goes above and beyond to provide them with all of the love and encouragement and instruction she can. Those kids are going to have a decent chance in life if she has anything to say about it.

Of course, Futaba has her own struggles, her own inner demons, and we eventually get a glimpse of them towards the end of the film. Her desire to be loved and accepted by her birth mother, her deep-seated anger with Azumi's birth mother for abandoning her, her own fear of being alone/abandoned by those she loves, all tied into her experience of being abandoned, orphaned, unwanted much of her life and all pushing her to work twice as hard to make sure those around her don't go through the same thing.

I will be honest here and say that I do wish that the reason characters in Japanese films or dramas are so sacrificial and willing to just accept others with difficult backgrounds wasn't always because they themselves come from the same or similar backgrounds. I would like to see more of these stories show regular people who maybe haven't experienced the level of heartache the three leads in Bathwater have doing the right thing simply because...it's the right thing to do. But when a story is as compelling as our three female leads, I can accept that maybe this just wasn't the right movie for that to happen in.

Now, before I end this review, I want to address the elephant in the room of this movie, that being Futaba's husband, Kazuhiro.

Kazuhiro is a big, fat coward.

While I'm glad she tracked him down and brought him back, because he's ultimately the one who should be responsible for Azumi (and later Ayuko's) upbringing, boiiiiiiiiiii does he piss you off. His reason for leaving the family has got to be about the dumbest thing ever, and I want to smack him upside the head a few times just to release my frustration. A woman shows up at his house and says 'this is your daughter because we had sex together once,' he just assumes she's telling the truth, and instead of sitting down with his wife and talking the situation out with her....he just up and leaves to go live with this woman and her daughter whom she has not proved is his in the first place. On the one hand, I'm extremely glad he did it, because Ayuko probably would have never found a family of her own and possibly could have ended up in a much worse situation. I'm glad that through his dumbass idiocy, Kazuhiro and Futaba and Azumi were able to become her family. But boy if he didn't have to take the dumbest route to that outcome. Credit where credit is due, he does come back to the family once she tracks him down, he does make an effort to be involved once he gets back, and by the end of the movie, I felt pretty reassured that he wouldn't run off and abandon his family again. But oh my GAD, was he stupid.

There are a couple of other characters who play a valuable role in this film, namely the hitchhiking kid and Azumi's birth mom, but Bathwater isn't their story. It isn't Kazuhiro's story. Futaba, Azumi, and Ayuko are the heart and soul of Bathwater, and it's story was theirs and theirs alone.

And for that, I'm grateful that this film exists.