This isn’t cosy “family life” so much as family admin. It’s not Ozu in style, but it’s got that Ozu-ish focus on routine — only here the politeness feels like a mask. Everything’s neat and well-mannered, yet you can sense the rot underneath, like someone’s sprayed air freshener straight onto a leak.
The family don’t come across as people so much as roles they’ve memorised. Dad’s basically a placeholder. Mum keeps the whole show on the road, but she’s weirdly powerless once she’s done running around after everyone. The older son coasts on being “the good one” until the younger starts catching up, and you can feel the smug little system wobble.
Then the tutor arrives and the mask slips. Things get coercive, there’s a creepy boundary-crossing moment with him that lands badly, and the most chilling bit is how fast the family tries to minimise it and carry on — as if the timetable matters more than the damage. That final dinner scene is the punchline: everyone going through the motions while the meaning drains away. It’s funny, then it isn’t, with a sharp jab at exam culture turning kids into results instead of people.