Full disclosure: I’ve never listened to a BTS song all the way through (much to the horror of one of my closest friends). I was shocked to discover that the girl group BLACKPINK has over 40 million Instagram followers. However, despite not being familiar with the K-pop or J-pop genre specifically, I’ve always been a fan of movie musicals, which is why I was intrigued by Love, Life and Goldfish. Based on the manga series “Sukutte Goran” by Noriko Otani and directed by Yukinori Makabe, this was the perfect introduction to J-pop for a novice like myself.

Our protagonist, Makoto Kashiba (Matsuya Onoe) is a young businessman who has been exiled from his high-profile job at a Tokyo banking firm and relocated to a small town in the middle of nowhere. After making a critical mistake on the job, Makoto is full of self-doubt, apathy, and confidence. Upon arriving at his new place of employment, he meets Yoshino Ikoma (Kanako Momota) a local woman who works at a consumer-friendly goldfish game shop nearby. Her childlike bewilderment and lassie fare attitude are initially off-putting to the logic-based Makoto, but over time he begins to see that her view of the world is nothing to judge and starts to fall in love. But his love for Yoshino doesn’t come without its complications, specifically the attention from another man.

Yoshino is far more than just Makoto’s manic pixie dream girl, although she does contribute to him finding happiness again. In addition to reviving Makoto’s mood by using her beloved goldfish, which she claims bring out the inner child, joy, and happiness, she too suffers from poor self-confidence. Yoshino has ambitions and dreams of her own that Makoto helps her achieve, playing the piano in public being her biggest obstacle to overcome. Their shared sense of fear of failure is what makes their bond so special. In the most complimentary way, they have a “reject finds reject” love story that resonates on a universal level.

Love, Life and Goldfish is a fairly standard romantic comedy much like John Carney’s Sing Street (but nothing like Leos Carax’s Annette). Short musical ditties (both in English and Japanese) keeps the film flowing nicely and make for a lighthearted time. Staying true to its theatrical roots, there is a brief one-minute and 30-second intermission about halfway through the film and it ends with a big finale song and dance number. The performances are fabulous and flamboyant, the visuals are colorful and magical, and the music itself is contagiously upbeat. Love, Life and Goldfish thrives off of its musical numbers and has officially succeeded in converting me to a J-pop fan.