Japanese film “Small, Slow but Steady” is a restrained but intimate drama revolving around the daily life of one hearing-impaired female boxer. While slowly but steadily observing how its heroine tries to go on one plain day after another, the movie subtly lets us get to know her bit by bit, and you will come to admire its dry but thoughtful storytelling more as observing a little sign of hope and optimism in the end.

At first, the movie simply depicts how things have been mostly okay for Keiko Ogawa (Yukino Kishii). As the movie informs us around the beginning of the story, she has actually been a professional boxer during last two years, and she is certainly proud of that even though she is not quite talented as the president of her boxing club frankly admits later in the story.

Nevertheless, Keiko keeps training everyday for her next match to come – unless she is not doing her main occupation outside. She works as a cleaning staff member in some local hotel, and we observe how she works well along with several other employees including a young woman who is also hearing-impaired just like her.

At her home, Keiko has been living with a musician brother in one small apartment. Both her mother and her brother sincerely support her athletic aspiration, and they certainly attend her latest match, but Keiko’s mother cannot help but worry about her daughter for understandable reasons. After all, there is always the possibility of serious injury whenever Keiko enters the ring, but she does not worry much because she is mostly confident about her athletic talent and skill.

However, she is also well aware of how she is often quite disadvantaged in the ring mainly due to her hearing impairment. Because she cannot hear at all, her eyes must be more watchful about any unexpected punch from her opponent, and her coaches usually have to give her signs instead of shouting at her during her match. In addition, she has several notable physical weaknesses and disadvantages, and that is the main reason why she needs to train and push herself harder.

Anyway, her latest match is ended with a little but significant victory for her, but there comes a big problem. Her boxing club, which looks quite old-fashioned with numerous shabby stuffs which vividly reflect its long history to us, has been not doing that well in its business, and it is also struck quite hard by the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic. As many of its members quit one after another, the president of the boxing club begins to consider closing down his boxing club, and the situation gets worse when he is notified later that his body has been showing the signs of some serious health problem.

Despite these problems of his, the president of the boxing club tries as much as possible for maintaining it as usual, and he shows more attention to Keiko than before because he genuinely cares about her. He gives her some support during her routine morning training, and, when he eventually decides to close down his boxing club, he has one of her coaches search for any other possible boxing club where she can continue training.

Meanwhile, Keiko tries to keep going even after learning about the impending end of her dear boxing club, but she mostly keeps her doubt and frustration to herself even in front of her brother, who instantly senses her inner conflict but sensibly does not ask too much about that. Besides, there will be another match for her, and she must prepare for that as much as possible.

Rather than following those familiar sports drama genre conventions, the screenplay by Shô Miyake and his co-writer Masaaki Sakai, which is based on the 2011 memoir written by Keiko Ogasawara (She is the first hearing-impaired female professional boxer in Japan, by the way), focuses more on small but substantial details for building up its heroine more along the story. Although she does not express much about herself or her athletic aspiration, we come to sense that boxing is a way of communication for Keiko, and that is why her training scenes become more important than a few boxing match scenes in the film. Whenever she trains, she feels not only just excited but also quite spirited, and we come to discern why she cannot give up boxing at all despite her growing doubts on the future of her professional athletic career.

It certainly helps that the movie is supported well by the engaging performance by Yukino Kishii, who is terrific as ably handling subtle emotional nuances to be appreciated. Around Kishii, Miyake assembles a number of good performers who have each own small moment to shine, and Tomokazu Miura is particularly good in his several key scenes with Kishii. Although their characters do not say much about their relationship, we can clearly sense a long history between them, and that is why one crucial scene involved with Keiko’s diary feels quite poignant.

On the whole, “Small, Slow but Steady” surely requires some patience from you due to its decidedly low-key approach to the story and characters, but it will engage you more than expected once you give it a chance. Although I have not seen Miyake’s previous works including “And Your Bird Can Sing” (2018), “Small, Slow but Steady” shows that he is another interesting Japanese filmmaker to watch, and I will certainly be curious about whatever will come next from him.