Few people show their true self to the world. Most of us are wearing masks, some thicker than others.

Adapted from the manga Taikan Yohou by Taino Nikke and starring actors Higuchi Kouhei (Segasaki Mizuki) and Mashiko Atsuki (Tanada Yoh), the Japanese BL My Personal Weatherman is all about the symbolic masks manga artist Yoh and his roommate slash partner, the sexy weatherman Segasaki, wear.

But, most importantly, it’s also about peeling off those masks when in front of each other, slowly exposing more than the skin they bare when in bed together.

One of my favorite things about My Personal Weatherman is how much is happening on screen, even though there isn’t much technically happening. It’s a sexy, tantalizing story that focuses on emotional intimacy rather than using action to move its story forward.

And it works.

From the inadequacies that Yoh fights to overcome to the dependency Segasaki manages to hide from Yoh, each of the main leads is trying to hold onto the other while also holding onto the masks that keep them strong.

Because, as much as we hate to admit it, those who wear masks do it to protect ourselves. Love is scary. Not only because it makes us fear losing someone we need but because we become increasingly aware of ourselves. It’s terrifying to look so closely at oneself, especially your perceived flaws. There’s a reason love hurts even as it heals.

For a story that emphasizes the sexual relationship between the leads, it’s riveting how physically intimate and in tune Segasaki and Yoh are, down to how well they manage to read each other’s minute facial expressions. And yet, despite this, the jealousy, inadequacy, misunderstandings, and unexpressed feelings between them also create a roadblock to the evident love they crave sharing along with the sex.

This roadblock brings me back to the masks they wear.

In today’s digital world, it’s easy to hide, much like the Segasaki the world knows through his televised weather report. It’s powerful to find someone who takes the mask you wear off and sees your pain and exhaustion even when others see nothing. It’s terrifying to realize your safe place, where you feel comfortable ripping off the mask, isn’t a thing or a place but a person who can walk out the door at any given moment. Segasaki and Yoh’s need for each other is potent. Weather and drawing allow them to burrow deeper. To shield. To project. But they see the truth in each other through TV and art. I like that My Personal Weatherman makes us ‘feel’ them slowly peel away the masks they wear and the exhaustion of pretending each week.

In retrospect, Yoh and Segasaki may always struggle more with speaking than with physically expressing themselves. Sometimes, it’s easier to show feelings than to speak about them.

But isn’t that why we find them so potent on screen? The intimacy between them is so crowded with hopes, dreams, and feelings that it makes us feel like we’re there inside the heat of it. An entire episode can take place inside one room, and it feels like I’ve been all over the world.

I’ll miss that every week.

For an enticing series with a touch of eroticism and lots of simmering tension, check out My Personal Weatherman now on Viki and Gagaoolala.

Rating- 4.5 out of 5