Recurring grief can sneak up on someone, sometimes unannounced. After all, one can say that it’s basically unexpressed love with nowhere to go, so it just resurfaces and manifests when it feels like it. Writer-director Kyoshi Sugita’s new film, “Following the Sound” (Japanese: 彼方のうた), takes it a bit further. It examines the sound of grief, one that screams the loudest when no actual words are spoken.

From the opening scene of its protagonist listening absentmindedly to the recordings playing from her portable cassette player, to the final shot of two women finally confronting their grief; “Following the Sound” makes use of stillness and quotidian beauty to examine the need to get back up and move forward despite sorrow and heartbreak — not away from them.

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SOLACE IN THE STILLNESS OF EVERYDAY LIFE

“Following the Sound,” which recently had its North American Premiere at this year’s JAPAN CUTS, introduces us to Haru (An Ogawa), a twenty-something woman who works as a bookstore clerk and enjoys good food and long, quiet walks.

After we see her wistfully listening to a recording in her cassette player, Haru approaches an older woman sitting on a bench and asks for directions to a nearby cafe. Finding the cafe closed, the woman, Yukiko (Yuko Nakamura), invites Haru over at the former’s house instead for lunch. This sets off a friendship between the two, whose dynamic vacillates between that of mother and daughter, and that of old friends from different generations.

The film then follows Haru stalking an older man to the latter’s home; something the man, Tsuyoshi (Hidekazu Mashima), eventually confronts Haru with. The revelation of whether they’ve met before crystallizes the theme Sugita aims for with this film. No matter if their connection was the result of fate, a deliberate act, or just coincidence, they all experience a similar tranquility in their day-to-day lives.

SHARED GRIEF LOOKS PAST THE FAÇADE

This stillness, of course, serves as a façade of what these characters are really going through. Focusing on the three main characters, the film zeroes in on their grief and sorrow. What Haru listens to regularly isn’t necessarily music; it’s a recording left by her late mother, and Haru intends to search for the origin of the sounds in the tape.

It’s easy, then, to think of the film’s title as referring to that. However, Sugita delves deeper. Did Haru really meet Yukiko by chance to ask for directions, considering how walking has become part of her everyday routine? What was her reasoning behind following Tsuyoshi several times over?

Does she see something beyond a person’s smile — an expression, perhaps — that resonates with her and compels her to help?

Without spoiling key plots of the film, as Haru and Yukiko’s friendship grows, the latter convinces Haru that they go visit a place to confirm the origin of the sound the young girl keeps playing. Along the way, both of them feel gratitude for helping each other with their presence.

‘FOLLOWING THE SOUND’: A STUDY IN NUANCE — BOTH IN ART AND LIFE

Sugita also incorporates art classes that Haru attends, such as film and drawing courses. These scenes underscore the prevalence of minimalism not just in cinema, but also in life.

From their film activity of shooting a moment in their lives where something said to them left an impact, to the way one character sketches their model subject; “Following the Sound” emphasizes the essence of projection. Indeed, the film is littered with open-ended dialogues and scenes. And the more open-ended they are, the more obvious they seem, the louder they’re heard.

This isn’t to say that the film is terrific, which it could’ve been. The main issue here, I feel, is how much the director relied on his backdrop to depict an easygoing, quotidian setting. Sometimes a little heavy hand is necessary to give the film a push. But somehow, Sugita leaves it all to his audience to deconstruct Haru’s history with her late mother, Yukiko’s own bout with sorrow, and Tsuyoshi’s complicated relationship with his own daughter.