I bet we all can find the shadow of the underachieved protagonist in ourselves, as chances are really slim in materializing one's aspirations in the cruel reality. There he is: down-and-out both in career and mariage, scraping by through blackmailing strangers, yet always managing to squeeze a complacent smile on his face when meeting his family. You would presume he is leading a hopeless, listless, even miserable life, but the means by which the Japanese director narrates the story also attached a rather warm hue to the banal life of the man. In the end, what do we know about life without living it through ourselves?