**The Cinematic Guide to Answering Life’s Greatest Questions: Just Be Really Quiet and Uncomfortable**

Oh, thank goodness. The wait is over. Humanity can finally stop its existential tailspin because Sho Miyake has arrived in the States to “answer life’s greatest questions.” Forget the Large Hadron Collider or the collected works of Plato; apparently, the secrets of the universe were hidden in the 16mm grain of a quiet film about a boxer who doesn’t talk much.

The Verge’s latest profile of the acclaimed Japanese director treats Miyake like a cinematic messiah, but if you look past the “naturalistic portraits” and the high-brow adoration, you’ll find a philosophy that is essentially: “What if everyone just felt really awkward for two hours?”

**Claim: Sho Miyake answers life’s greatest questions.**

If life’s “greatest questions” involve “where can I find a gym with the least amount of upbeat K-pop?” or “how many minutes can a camera linger on a dusty window before it becomes art?” then yes, Miyake has the answers. But let’s be real: calling a movie about a deaf boxer *Small, Slow But Steady* an answer to life’s mysteries is like saying a recipe for sourdough answers the question of why we die. It doesn’t solve the problem; it just gives you something tedious to do while you wait for the end. Miyake isn’t providing answers; he’s providing a mood board for people who find “The Great British Bake Off” too high-octane.

**Claim: Naturalism is the best way to explore the “uneasy human desire to relate.”**

Ah, “naturalism”—the industry’s favorite euphemism for “we didn’t have a budget for a script, so we just filmed a guy eating a peach for six minutes.” The article posits that Miyake’s films, *Small, Slow But Steady* and *Two Seasons, Two Strangers*, capture the profound unease of human connection.

Here’s a radical counter-thought: maybe “relating to people” isn’t an “uneasy desire.” For most of the planet, it’s called “having a conversation.” By framing basic social interaction as a Herculean struggle of the soul, Miyake isn’t being “naturalistic”; he’s being a dramatist of the mundane. If you find the act of nodding at a neighbor so “uneasy” that it requires a feature-length film to process, the question isn’t “why is human connection so hard?” but rather “have you tried therapy?”

**Claim: Discomfort and seclusion are the “bedrocks” of a great filmography.**

Miyake admits he likes characters whose “discomfort slowly starts to distance them from society.” While the critics call this “a profound exploration of the human condition,” in any other context, it’s just the origin story of a guy who posts 40-minute video essays about why the *Star Wars* sequels are objectively bad.

Since when did “being uncomfortable and avoiding people” become a bedrock of artistic achievement? If that were the case, every teenager with a locked bedroom door and a Discord account would be an auteur. Seclusion isn’t a profound cinematic choice; it’s a narrative shortcut. It’s much easier to film a character staring at a wall in silence than it is to write dialogue that actually reveals something about the human heart.

**Claim: New Directors/New Films is “lowkey” one of New York’s better festivals.**

Can we talk about the “lowkey” gatekeeping here? Nothing screams “I live in a Brooklyn loft with four roommates and a struggling kombucha brand” like calling a world-renowned film festival at Lincoln Center and MoMA “lowkey.” It’s like saying the Metropolitan Museum of Art is a “hidden gem” for people who like old pictures. It’s not lowkey; it’s the establishment. But I suppose when you’re watching films about “seclusion” and “unease,” you have to maintain the persona that you’re the only person in the room who truly *gets it*.

**The Verdict: Beautifully Shot Boredom**

Don’t get it twisted: Sho Miyake is a talented filmmaker. His work is visually stunning, and Yukino Kishii’s performance in *Small, Slow But Steady* is legitimately compelling. But let’s stop pretending that “naturalism” and “discomfort” are keys to the universe. Miyake isn’t answering life’s greatest questions; he’s asking us to sit in a dark room and be quiet for a while. That’s not a philosophical breakthrough—it’s just a nap with better lighting.

If you want to relate to people, go outside. If you want “naturalism,” go to a DMV and watch people stare at their phones for three hours. It’s basically the same thing as a Miyake film, just without the 16mm film grain and the fawning Verge reviews.