Good melodrama is hard to get right, and Blank Canvas doesn't quite succeed, either. But it gets close and, for the most part, that's almost enough.

This tender slice of life drama is based on Akiko Higashimura's autobiographical manga, serialized as Blank Canvas in the early 2010s. It is both a reflection of the eternal question: "Where do you get your ideas?", a coming of age story, and, oddly enough, a kind of buddy comedy between a hilariously demanding teacher and their student destined for greatness.

As a child, Akiko (Mei Nagano) is hailed as a savant by her peers, all of whom she lovingly depicts as the kindest people living on an island where cynicism has never arrived. Growing into her early 20s, Akiko proceeds to a prep school for would-be artists, all aiming for prestigious universities with incredible demands on their students.

Her teacher, Kenzo (Yo Oizumi), wields a practise katana, which he uses liberally on students who don't meet his expectations. Imagine a lighter, more slapstick version of Whiplash. He sees something in Akiko's work, though it's rough and she's been resting on her laurels for far too long. What follows is both traditional and unexpected, as Akiko fails, tries, gives up, succeeds, and reinvents herself in ways that are as messy as life itself.

Every biography, no matter who writes it, is an act of recontextualizing and reinventing your own history. Everyone remembers things differently, and we always want our story to be kinder, or at least more memorable in some way. The same is true here, and Akiko's on-screen narration even toys with the expectation that what we're seeing is more nostalgic than things really were.

Luckily, both Nagano and Oizumi are superb in their parts. They capture the complicated relationships between teachers and students in these formative years, especially when both understand the pressures of society are too much for those who would just want to create and be left alone.

The two hour plus narrative doesn't quite sustain itself, and there's a bit of downtime around the midway part. This kind of slice of life storytelling requires a different, more relaxed pacing, and here it starts to trip over itself by not really settling in for any particular tone. Luckily, the final act, where Akiko turns finally discovers a halfway point between nostalgia and reality, is worth the journey.

At its best, Blank Canvas is heartfelt and revealing, not just of the work itself, but the act of creation and how much we put into everything we send out into the world. Be that art or the artists themselves. It is a slight, but often delightful and moving film best visited on an autumn day, as the summer begins to fade.