The renowned Chinese director Edward Yang once had a character say in his film Yi Yi (A One and a Two...): "Since the invention of cinema, human life has been extended at least threefold." I couldn’t agree more. Cinema is like a mirror—within just a few hours, it takes you into another world, where time and space are reshaped. You witness how different people lead different lives, and you get to experience a completely different existence. It is also a dream-making machine fueled by imagination: everything possible or impossible in reality can come to life on screen, and all whims and fancies find their release here. A good film broadens one’s worldview and outlook on life, expands horizons, offers insights, and guides us to better understand and appreciate life. As the weather turns cooler, why not spend your vacation at home enjoying some excellent films?
This French film about reading and friendship tells the story of an 11-year-old girl, her apartment’s concierge, and a newly arrived Japanese neighbor.
Paloma is the youngest daughter of a member of parliament. With a camera in hand, she observes the world with a maturity far beyond her years. Born into wealth and comfort, she seems to live the "perfect life" in others’ eyes, yet she abhors this predetermined path and plans to take her own life on her 12th birthday. For her, life’s value lies not in its length, but in whether the things one does before death are meaningful. So she intends to make a film before gently and painlessly leaving this hypocritical and indifferent world.

Paloma repeatedly emphasizes in the film that this decision is not impulsive, but carefully considered. On the surface, she is driven by a dislike for a life that can be seen to its end—but more importantly, she sees no glimmer of hope in her parents’ lives. Her father, a seemingly successful social elite, secretly hides cigarette butts under the doormat, a vulgar habit. Her mother, who appears to care for her plants by watering them daily, never gives a second thought to who might be splashed by her watering can on the sidewalk. Her older sister, who tries to carve a different path from their mother, ends up being neurotic. None of her family members truly cares about others.
Paloma recognizes the emptiness and apathy in her family’s lives early on. To her, such an existence is like that of goldfish in a tank—materially abundant but spiritually impoverished. Unwilling to become a goldfish with a predetermined fate, Paloma presses on with her suicide plan.
It is at this moment that Paloma meets a new neighbor, an elderly Japanese man. Their chance encounter in the elevator leads to a casual conversation about the building’s concierge, and with a knowing smile, they share a mutual realization:the concierge is an "elegant hedgehog."

Renée, the 54-year-old widowed concierge, is overweight and plain-looking. She meticulously maintains an image of being crude and bad-tempered, but behind closed doors, she has built a rich inner world filled with a wall of books and vinyl records. Unlike the wealthy residents who pass her by daily yet fail to recognize her when she dresses differently, Renée possesses something those seemingly privileged people lack—keen sensitivity.

She always captures the essence of life perfectly: she cares for the homeless, takes in the "homeless" Paloma, recognizes the literary origin of the Japanese man’s cat’s name, and is deeply moved by the accidental romantic coincidences in life. Despite her modest material circumstances, her sharp awareness allows her to truly feel her own existence and care for others. To Paloma, this is the true meaning of elegance. Drawn to Renée, Paloma transforms from an observer to a participant, eager to truly connect with Renée’s life.

The film carries a subtle tone of sorrow. Perhaps you will also be touched by Renée’s way of life, reflect on Paloma’s perspectives, resonate with their souls, and gain a new understanding of life’s meaning. As the line goes: "What matters is not death, but what we were doing when we died." To feel deeply and love sincerely is the best answer to life.
Watching this film is as pleasant as sitting by the window on a sunny afternoon, sipping tea and eating a cream pastry with just the right amount of sweetness. Its bright colors and smooth, warm interactions between characters all convey one message: the power of love and words can heal misfortune and sorrow.

Germain is a semi-illiterate man in his 50s. He is overweight andoverweight and coarse, yet very kind. He does odd jobs, tends to his vegetable garden, drinks with friends at the bar, and shares occasional romantic moments with his girlfriend, leading a quiet life. However, he harbors deep, untold pain: his mother conceived him against her will, and he never knew his father. His teachers ignored him for being slow-witted; his drinking buddies like him but often mock him; his girlfriend wants a child, but feeling self-abased, he couldn't agree and it strains their relationship. Germain is a sensitive man. He lacks security and wants recognition.

Margueritte is a 90 years old lady siting in the park every afternoon reading and watching pigeons. She always wears a floral dress and a pink cardigan, adorned with small delicate floral earrings. Her silver hair is always neatly combed. She is a retired agronomist, and has spent her life traveling and reading. There is always a sense of accumulated serenity around her.
A chance encounter brings them together. They meet over pigeons and bond over Camus’ The Plague. No one could have imagined that Germain, who seems utterly uninterested in books, possesses a rich and delicate imagination. He becomes utterly engrossed in Margueritte’s readings, showing up promptly every day for their appointment with literature. Margueritte’s views on life are filled with unique wisdom and open-mindedness. Through their interactions, Germain gradually becomes less passive and insecure. He falls in love with reading and begins to actively seek changes in his life.

It was also during an argument with his mother that Kidman inadvertently recalled a childhood incident where his mother injured someone with a pitchfork to protect him—he finally began to understand his mother and reconcile with his past self.
This is an atypical love story, yet love flows through it like melted butter. Our lives may be filled with unexpected setbacks, but more important than self-destruction is self-healing.
If you’ve been feeling down lately, this Japanese film is a must-watch. Despite its 160-minute runtime and lack of dramatic twists, it never feels tedious—you’ll effortlessly get immersed in its subtle warmth and find yourself smiling along with the characters.
Yonosuke is a college student from the coastal town of Nagasaki, studying in Tokyo. He is ordinary-looking, average in personality, not very smart, and even a bit slow-witted. Because his name shares the same as the protagonist of a well-known Japanese erotic novel, his self-introductions always elicit laughter. Yet this unremarkable Yonosuke unconsciously spreads joy, warmth, and kindness to everyone he meets. He treats those he connects with sincerely, without prejudice, leaving everyone with cherished memories of happiness.

To Kuramochi, his first friend at university, Yonosuke is gentle and straightforward. When Kuramochi’s girlfriend unexpectedly becomes pregnant and the couple faces expulsion, Yonosuke goes out of his way to help without expecting anything in return—he is the only person Kuramochi can turn to in his desperation.

To Chiharu, a socialite aspiring to enter high society, Yonosuke is sincere and kind. He is the first person who doesn’t judge her and the first to make her let go of her inferiority about her background.

To Kato, a cold and withdrawn classmate, Yonosuke is tender and considerate. He calmly accepts Kato’s coming out and, as usual, cuts a watermelon in half and gives Kato the larger piece.
To Shoko, a wealthy heiress, Yonosuke is unforgettable. They listened to the waves on a summer beach and confessed their love to each other in the falling snow.

Though Yonosuke’s life is short, everyone who remembers him years later does so with warmth in their eyes—a deep, ineffable tenderness. They can’t help but smile and say: "Looking back now, just meeting that guy feels like I hit the jackpot."
You might wonder: what kind of wonderful person deserves such praise? I can say without hesitation—Yonosuke does. And the sentiment shared by his old friends is reason enough to watch his full story. You’ll surely see echoes of your own youth in it, recalling old friends and that hot, endless summer.
In this fast-paced era, why not slow down occasionally and step into the world of cinema? Here, you may find a moment of peace. When you back to reality, the courage and strength you draw from movies may make your steps forward more resolute.