Men would rather do a murder-robbery inside job on their own yakuza gang and spend thirty years in prison writing cryptic letters and engaged in a battle of wits with their double-crossing former best friend than go to therapy and learn to say 'I love you.'In its broad strokes, The Last Blossom might sound trite and sentimental, but it's the little, lived-in details that linger: the ding of a microwave, fireworks seen through a gap between new apartment buildings, a smouldering mosquito coil.Haven't seen Baku Kinoshita's earlier Odd Taxi, but after this little gem I'll make a point of checking it out.
