‘Is Love Sustainable?’ Netflix Series Review - A Quirky Dive into Family, Love, and Matchmaking Mishaps

Let’s be honest — when you hear the title Is Love Sustainable?, your first thought is probably, “Oh no, not another melodrama about broken hearts and long stares by the window.” But this show does something different. It asks that question literally. Can love actually be a sustainable part of our lives, much like composting or reusable shopping bags? But instead of offering a textbook answer, the show gently — and often humorously — unpacks that question through two unlikely romantics: a yoga instructor with a big heart and a socially awkward language scholar who happens to be her dad.

Kyoka is that yoga teacher. She’s calm, a little too responsible, and probably the kind of person who’d make you feel guilty for skipping your morning stretches. After her mother’s death, she moves back in with her father, Rintaro, who’s spent years lost in his books and bafflingly oblivious to how emotionally constipated he’s become. Their reunion is less “Welcome home!” and more “What’s the Wi-Fi password?” — distant, tense, and seasoned with awkward silences.

Things get really interesting when Rintaro finds divorce papers in a drawer. Surprise! Turns out his late wife may have wanted to dip before death did them part. This jolts him out of his academic cave and into a sudden desire to try dating again. But not without dragging Kyoka along. So now they’re both on a journey to find new partners — one through modern matchmaking and the other through possibly finding real love for the first time.

Enter Seita, a handsome, grounded single dad who ticks all the boxes for the perfect rom-com male lead, except he’s also incredibly normal. He and Kyoka meet through one of her dating attempts, and their chemistry is quiet, natural, and refreshingly awkward. There’s no dramatic violin swell or sudden rainstorm kiss. Their connection grows out of conversations, shared silences, and mutual respect — which, frankly, feels a lot more like real life than most TV romances.

The heart of the show lies in the dynamic between Kyoka and Rintaro. They’re two adults trying to figure each other out after years of emotional distance. Watching them navigate grief, expectations, and the strange idea of love later in life feels like listening in on a very gentle, very polite emotional therapy session. This therapy includes surprise blind dates and yoga classes.

What the show nails is its character writing. No one is exaggerated or cartoonish. Kyoka’s quiet strength and Rintaro’s slow emotional evolution are believable and often touching. The supporting cast is equally solid. Seita’s young son is a delight without being annoyingly precocious, and the other friends and potential love interests that flit in and out of the story add dimension without feeling like filler.

Visually, the series is clean and calming. It’s not flashy, and it doesn’t try to be. The shots are purposeful — yoga studios drenched in warm light, quiet dinners at home, scenic city walks that never scream “Look at this aesthetic!” but still manage to look good. It gives you space to focus on what the characters are feeling without trying to distract you with too much drama or pizzazz.

But no series is perfect, and Is Love Sustainable? has its clunky moments. The pacing, for one, occasionally stumbles. Some episodes feel like they're moving through molasses — like the writers were just as unsure about love’s sustainability as the characters. Then suddenly, a major development will whiz by like it’s late for an appointment. Rintaro’s romantic reawakening in particular feels like it comes from nowhere, almost as if he found it in the back of a cereal box.

And the humor? Well, it’s hit or miss. When it lands, it’s subtly funny — a raised eyebrow, a muttered one-liner, an awkward hug. When it misses, it veers into slightly cheesy sitcom territory. Think dad jokes but with subtitles.

Still, the show has a softness that’s hard to dislike. It doesn’t try to shock you or sweep you into a high-stakes romance with screaming matches and sudden breakups. Instead, it offers gentle realism — the kind where people get nervous on dates, feel uncomfortable around their parents, and struggle to understand what they really want. And in doing so, it reminds you that love isn’t some sweeping, cinematic thing. It’s often small, sustainable, and built slowly — in kitchens and yoga studios, and quiet conversations on rainy days.

So, is love sustainable? According to this series, maybe. Not because people change in big ways, but because they’re willing to grow — even if that growth comes in the form of a father learning to use a dating app or a daughter deciding to fall for someone who’s solid instead of spectacular.

If you’re looking for explosions, plot twists, or dramatic cliffhangers, this isn’t your show. But if you want something that feels honest, a little odd, and ultimately kind, this is a lovely slow burn to commit to. Just like sustainable love itself.

Final Score- [6.5/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times