A casual recommendation from a school friend led me to Rikuoh, a 10-episode Japanese web series on Netflix. It turned out to be an unexpectedly moving experience. This drama, centred on Koichi Miyazawa, the owner of a struggling tabi manufacturing company, hooked me with its tale of innovation, perseverance, and deeply human struggles.
As Miyazawa pivots to create a revolutionary line of running shoes inspired by a star runner's challenges, the story unfolds in ways that resonated with my own experiences in running, entrepreneurship, corporate life, parent-child conflicts, and the unique workings of Japanese culture.
A Story That Hit Close to Home
The premise of Rikuoh is simple yet compelling: Miyazawa's company, Kohazeya, faces declining tabi sales in a fast-changing market. Inspired by the pain of marathon runner Hiroto Mogi during a major event, Miyazawa bets on crafting running shoes that mimic the barefoot feel of tabi.
This spark of innovation — solving a real problem through observation and grit — is an idealistic approach to entrepreneurship. The series' depiction of fundraising struggles, like pitching to sceptical bankers or securing a patent for the lightweight "Silk Ray" material, reminds me of my own experience as a startup angel investor.
What made Rikuoh truly special was how it wove in personal themes. The parent-child dynamic, especially Miyazawa's son Daichi striving to prove his worth in the family business, struck a chord.
I've seen similar struggles among peers from business families in India, where being "the owner's child" often comes with pressure to demonstrate meaningful contributions.
Daichi's efforts to fix a critical machine alongside an engineer showed his determination to earn his place, rather than taking it on a platter.
A Window into Japanese Culture
Rikuoh is as much a cultural exploration as it is a drama. It beautifully showcases Japanese values — precision, humility, commitment — that, while sometimes "weird" to Western eyes, are sacrosanct in their society.
The meticulous care in developing the Rikuoh shoes, from sourcing the perfect upper material to fine-tuning the sole's foam at precise temperatures, reflects why Japanese products are globally revered for their quality.
This obsession with perfection reminds of Japan's reputation for craftsmanship.
The series also captures Japan's ethos of politeness and responsibility. I was struck by the "apologise first, then explain" approach, so different from the Western tendency to lead with excuses.
I recalled a cartoon I once saw of two Japanese drivers at an intersection, fighting, and each insisting they were at fault and apologising profusely — a scene echoed in Rikuoh's moments of humility, even toward rivals.
The emphasis on keeping promises, no matter the hurdles, enhanced my respect for these cultural norms.
Emotional Depth and Moments of Connection
Rikuoh had me rooting for Miyazawa and his team, with several scenes leaving my eyes misty. The camaraderie of Kohazeya's scrappy employees, the runner Mogi's redemption arc, and Miyazawa's quiet tenacity against setbacks , like a broken machine or mounting debt , made every triumph feel earned.
The series' sincerity, amplified by stellar performances, turned even predictable moments into emotional highs.
I found myself sympathising with the characters' struggles, from Daichi's job hunt to Miyazawa's gamble on an untested product.
A Few Flaws, But Still Unforgettable
If I had one critique, it's that the final episode felt rushed. Kohazeya's meteoric rise to success, capped by Mogi's triumph in the New Year Ekiden race, happened too quickly, making the payoff feel slightly unearned.
The tactics of the rival company, Atlantis, also seemed overly aggressive, perhaps because my view of Japanese business culture is limited.
Why You Should Watch Rikuoh?
Rikuoh is more than just another OTT drama; it's a heartfelt journey through innovation, family, and cultural pride. Its blend of universal struggles and Japanese sensibilities made it a deeply personal experience for me, and I suspect it will resonate with anyone who loves stories of underdogs and human connection.
Despite its pacing flaws, the series' emotional depth and cultural insights make it a must-watch.
If you're a fan of running, entrepreneurship, or just crave a story that tugs at the heartstrings, give Rikuoh a chance. It's left me inspired — and curious to explore more of Japan's vibrant culture.
Have you seen Rikuoh or a similar series?
I'd love to hear your thoughts!