Secret: The Unheard Melody – A Japanese Reinterpretation Weaving its Own Melody

The 2007 Taiwanese film Secret was more than just a box office hit; it became a cultural phenomenon. Its poignant fantasy romance, traversing time through the melody of a piano, captivated audiences across Asia, sparking what could only be described as a "syndrome" of explosive popularity, especially in Korea. The existence of such a a beloved original work is both a blessing and a formidable challenge for any attempt at a remake. Following Korea's own remake starring Doh Kyung-soo, which screened earlier this year, Japan has now finally unveiled its own cinematic reinterpretation, breathing new life into this legendary story.
 

The Korean release title, Secret: The Final Chapter, presented audiences with a curious puzzle. The original film's conclusion was a perfectly closed ending, leading the subtitle "The Final Chapter" to suggest a sequel or a continuation of the story. I, too, initially assumed it might be a follow-up to the Taiwanese original or perhaps a connected spin-off. However, after watching the film, I realized it was not a Taiwanese or Chinese production but a Japanese remake. While the film's original Japanese title remains the same as the original, the decision by the Korean distributor to add "The Final Chapter" was likely a strategic choice to differentiate it from the Korean remake that had been released just months before.

The most intriguing aspect of this film was its coexistence of the familiar and the new. From the very beginning, the movie makes it clear that it adheres to the core framework of the original. However, it charts a different course than some remakes that settle for mere replication. The recently released Korean version, for instance, was almost too reverent, faithfully recreating nearly every detail, from the visual composition to the nuances of the dialogue. While this "model student" approach may have evoked nostalgia for fans of the original, it failed to offer new charms, which is likely the primary reason it underperformed at the box office.

The Japanese version, in contrast, takes bold liberties with the process of unfolding the narrative, even while preserving the original's key plot points. The main storyline, which every audience member anticipates, remains the same, but the way it branches out and sprouts new leaves is markedly different. This "difference" is precisely what provides the independent pleasure of watching the Japanese remake. Despite already knowing the story's arc, there is a distinct power that makes you anticipate how they will reinterpret a particular scene through a Japanese lens. It's clear they sought to internalize and present the original's iconic moments in their own way, rather than simply retracing them.

Above all, this film faithfully follows the grammar of the genre Japan arguably does best: the "sad romance." The Korean film industry, which once moved audiences to tears with heart-wrenching melodramas like The Classic and A Moment to Remember, has since shifted its focus to romantic comedies, thrillers, and action. As a result, the traditional "sad romance" genre has all but vanished. Japan, however, has consistently and skillfully continued to produce these emotionally rich love stories. The fantasy premise of Secret, when met with Japan's uniquely lyrical and melancholic sensibility, creates an even more heart-wrenching atmosphere.

This strength in Japanese romance cinema often stems from its foundation in solid literary originals. Countless hits, from Crying Out Love, in the Center of the World to Be With You and I Want to Eat Your Pancreas, were adapted from novels. The delicate and intimate emotional lines unique to Japanese romance, the gradual build-up of sorrow that erupts with a tragic event, and the use of a final "twist" that devastates the audience's tear ducts—all these elements shine brightest on such a literary foundation. Secret successfully transplants this Japanese melodic formula onto the original's fantasy framework.

As the subtitle "The Final Chapter" suggests, this film will likely be the period at the end of the Secret remake relay among Korea, China, and Japan. Following its June release in Japan, the film met Korean audiences through an unconventional "exclusive release" at CGV cinemas. This trend of Japanese romance films, like Even if This Love Disappears from the World Tonight or The Last 10 Years, getting exclusive releases in specific theater chains seems to be a strategic distribution choice targeting a clear and specific audience.

The casting of the main characters is also noteworthy. The male lead, Minato, is played by Kyomoto Taiga. Frankly, he felt a bit different from the image of a wistful first love portrayed by Jay Chou in the original or Doh Kyung-soo in the Korean version, which was slightly disappointing at first. However, he is reportedly a member of the idol group "SixTONES," which boasts enough popularity to sell out the Tokyo Dome. This casting seems less about just riding his popularity and more a deliberate choice, considering the character is a piano student.

This is similar to the Korean remake's casting of Doh Kyung-soo, who possesses both musical talent and a strong fanbase. The role of the male lead, who must embody musical genius, inherently demands a high level of instrumental proficiency from the actor. The female lead, Yukino, is portrayed by Furukawa Kotone. She effectively captures the pure, ethereal, and somewhat mysterious aura that audiences often associate with a "classic Japanese actress," bringing the character's unique charm to life.

Of course, the Japanese remake does not abandon the original's most critical plot devices. The rule that the time-traveling heroine can only be seen by the "first person she sees" and the "Secret" score that acts as the conduit between the two worlds are the story's unshakable foundations. To remove either would be to create a film that is Secret in name only. Likewise, the film's climactic "piano battle" sequence—a highlight for many fans—is included, satisfying expectations. While these core pillars remain intact, the spaces between them are filled with a distinctly Japanese emotional resonance.

Another of the film's undeniable charms is its music. The piano pieces used in the soundtrack are a delight, featuring classical masterpieces from Chopin and Rachmaninoff that are familiar to the general public. It's evident that care was taken to honor the original's superb musical legacy while arranging and placing the music in a way that maximizes the lyrical, wistful emotions characteristic of Japanese cinema. The ending, in particular, offers a slightly different interpretation than the original. It concludes with a characteristically Japanese romantic sensibility, leaving a gentle, lingering resonance rather than a storm of emotion, and in doing so, delivers a new and different kind of poignancy.