‘I Still Want To Do It With My Wife': Hapless husband's self-pity wears thin

Japan Times

21-05-2025

Behind every starving artist, there tends to be someone else who's paying the bills. That was certainly true for filmmaker Shin Adachi, who spent years as an unsuccessful screenwriter before finally breaking out with '100 Yen Love' in 2014.
As he has revealed in two autobiographical novels and their respective screen adaptations, he wouldn't have made it this far without the help of his spouse, Akiko. But in Adachi's fictionalized retelling, his better half is a far cry from the 'devoted wife' archetype beloved of NHK morning dramas.
In 'I Still Want To Do It With My Wife,' Chika (played by the single-named Megumi) subjects her husband to a near-constant invective — and you can hardly blame her. Work-shy and out of work, Gota (Shunsuke Kazama) is a hopeless case. He didn't even make ¥100,000 the previous year, yet when he does finally land a gig, he's so out of his depth with the material that he has to get his missus to write it for him.
Not only is Chika the main breadwinner, she also seems to be the more effective parent to their son, Taro (Tetta Shimada), who has a developmental disorder. So when Gota approaches her at the end of a long day with a suggestive look on his face, it's understandable that she tells him to get lost.
Gota's only confidantes are the neighborhood moms, but they scoff at his complaints that he doesn't get enough credit for doing the cooking and housework. Welcome to being a homemaker, pal.
These battle lines will be familiar to anyone who saw Adachi's 'A Beloved Wife' (2020), in which his sex-starved alter ego was played by Gaku Hamada. (Even the names of the lead characters are the same, although this doesn't appear to be a direct sequel.) Kazama, an equally cuddly screen presence, somehow manages to be even more irritating than his predecessor.
Adapted from the director's 2019 novel, 'I Still Want To Do It With My Wife' started as a 12-episode drama that aired on TV Osaka earlier this year. Adachi says he'd always envisioned it as a standalone film, which explains why the theatrical cut — edited from the show, with a few extra scenes added — doesn't feel like a digest version.
All the same, it frequently betrays its TV origins, both in the rough-around-the-edges aesthetic and the episodic plot. Like many married couples, Gota and Chika are constantly revisiting the same arguments. Although there are a few big moments (a bust-up at a funeral, an emotional meltdown on a busy street), much of the film keeps going round in circles. Adachi's candor is refreshing, but it's still subject to the law of diminishing returns.
Much like the character she plays, Megumi ends up having to do most of the work. After spending much of the film's first half in the bathtub — a more onerous acting assignment than you'd think — she's called on to deliver the emotional fireworks later on, too. Shimada, best known to international audiences from Koji Fukada's 'Love Life' (2022), is equally winning as the couple's high-maintenance son.
Taking verisimilitude to the extreme, Adachi filmed the domestic scenes in the family's apartment, using long takes and handheld camerawork to heighten the pressure-cooker atmosphere. It gives an extra touch of authenticity to a fitfully engaging film. Adachi can do better than this, but his wife has probably told him that already.