It Feels So Good (2019)

It Feels So Good is rare in how it treats adult desire not as a tease or a punchline, but as a serious, human language—messy, tender, and sometimes reckless. Haruhiko Arai keeps the focus almost entirely on two people in a small pocket of time, letting Tasuku Emoto and Kumi Takiuchi build a lived-in chemistry that feels less like movie romance and more like two souls trying to renegotiate what they mean to each other. The vibe is intimate and quietly restless, with candid sex that’s explicit but purposeful, and conversations that let larger anxieties—memory, regret, and the shadow of Fukushima—press in around the edges. It’s not for everyone, especially if graphic sexuality is a dealbreaker, but if you want a drama that’s brave about bodies and honest about longing, this one lingers.

It Feels So Good is aiming for an intimate, two-hander character study about regret, desire, and the way old wounds (including the shadow of Fukushima) linger in adult relationships. The problem is it often confuses repetition for depth: long stretches of talk and sex scenes circle the same points, and the dialogue can feel self-serious without landing emotionally. If you’re looking for a romantic drama with momentum, varied characters, or even erotica that builds tension rather than just showing it, this may feel dull and oddly unsexy. That said, if you’re patient with minimal plotting and want a raw, confined snapshot of two damaged people clinging to familiarity, the performances and bleak atmosphere might work for you.