Top 6 'Plot-Optional' Slice-of-Life Movies to Explore for When Your Brain Needs to Gently Unclench - Goh Ling Yong
Have you ever reached the end of a long day, or a long week, and felt like your brain was a tightly wound ball of yarn? The thought of engaging with a complex, high-stakes movie plot—full of twists, suspense, and emotional rollercoasters—feels less like an escape and more like another chore. You scroll endlessly through streaming services, but everything seems to demand too much of your already depleted mental energy.
This is a state of being I know all too well. It’s a topic I’ve even discussed with Goh Ling Yong before—the need for 'active rest,' where you engage your mind just enough to stop it from racing, but not so much that it feels like work. In these moments, you don't need another puzzle to solve or another world-ending threat to worry about. You need a gentle space to simply exist. You need a movie that feels like a warm blanket and a quiet room.
Welcome to the world of "plot-optional" cinema. These are slice-of-life films where atmosphere is the main character, and the narrative is driven by small, everyday moments rather than a grand, overarching goal. They are meditative, observational, and deeply human. They invite you to unclench your jaw, lower your shoulders, and let the quiet beauty of the ordinary wash over you. Here are six of my absolute favorite films for when your brain needs to do just that.
1. Paterson (2016)
If ever there was a film that perfectly embodied the poetry of the mundane, it’s Paterson. The film follows one week in the life of a bus driver named Paterson (Adam Driver), who lives in Paterson, New Jersey. His routine is simple: he wakes up, drives his bus, observes his passengers, writes poetry in his secret notebook, comes home to his whimsical wife, and walks their English Bulldog, Marvin. Then he does it all again.
What makes Paterson so profoundly calming is its celebration of routine. There are no dramatic upheavals or life-altering events. Instead, the film finds its rhythm in the gentle repetition of daily life and the small, beautiful variations within it. Director Jim Jarmusch crafts a visual ode to finding beauty in places we’re taught to overlook—a waterfall, a conversation overheard on the bus, the way light hits a glass of beer. Adam Driver’s performance is a masterpiece of quiet contentment, portraying a man who finds deep fulfillment not in chasing greatness, but in simply paying attention.
How to watch it: This is the perfect film for a quiet Sunday afternoon. Brew a cup of tea or coffee and allow yourself to sink into its unhurried pace. Pay attention to the recurring motifs, like the recurring sets of twins Paterson sees throughout the week. You might even feel inspired to pick up a notebook and jot down a few observations about your own day. It teaches you that a poem, and a life, can be found in anything if you just look closely enough.
2. My Neighbor Totoro (1988)
No list of gentle cinema would be complete without a visit to the magical, sun-drenched world of Studio Ghibli. While many of their films have epic stakes, My Neighbor Totoro is different. It’s a film powered not by conflict, but by pure, unadulterated childhood wonder. The story follows two young sisters, Satsuki and Mei, who move to a new house in the countryside with their father to be closer to their mother, who is recovering in a nearby hospital.
The “plot” is simply the girls’ exploration of their new world. They discover little soot sprites in their attic, meet a giant, fluffy forest spirit named Totoro, and ride a magical Catbus. There is no villain to defeat and no grand quest to undertake. The only tension comes from the natural anxieties of childhood—worrying about a sick parent or getting a little lost—and it’s always resolved with a gentle, reassuring touch. The film is a masterclass in atmosphere, capturing the feeling of a long, lazy summer afternoon where anything feels possible.
How to watch it: My Neighbor Totoro is like a warm, cinematic hug. Watch it on a rainy day or whenever you’re feeling a little worn down by the cynicism of the world. Focus on the stunningly detailed animation of nature—the wind rustling through the camphor tree, the fat drops of rain on an umbrella. It’s a film that reminds us that magic isn’t always about grand adventures; sometimes, it’s just about waiting for a bus in the rain with a friendly forest giant.
3. Little Forest (2018)
Have you ever fantasized about quitting your stressful city job and moving to the countryside to live a simpler life? Little Forest is that fantasy brought to life on screen. Based on a Japanese manga, this Korean adaptation follows a young woman named Hye-won who, feeling lost and burnt out by her life in Seoul, returns to her childhood home in a quiet, rural village.
The film is structured around the four seasons, and the narrative is propelled by the food Hye-won grows, forages, and cooks. Each dish connects her to her past, her relationship with her mother, and the land itself. From rustic potato bread in the winter to chilled soybean noodle soup in the summer, the film is a feast for the senses. The sound design is exquisite; you’ll hear every sizzle, chop, and crunch. It’s a quiet, meditative story about healing, self-sufficiency, and rediscovering your roots, one meal at a time.
How to watch it: A word of warning: do not watch this movie on an empty stomach. It is pure, unadulterated food-and-nature porn. This film is perfect for when you need inspiration to slow down and appreciate the process of making something with your hands. It might just convince you to try that recipe you’ve been putting off or start a small herb garden on your windowsill. It’s a beautiful reminder that nourishment is about more than just what we eat.
4. Kedi (2016)
A documentary might seem like an odd choice for this list, but Kedi is no ordinary documentary. This film isn't about facts and figures; it's a lyrical portrait of Istanbul, told through the eyes of its most charismatic residents: the thousands of stray cats who roam its streets. The film follows a handful of these feline personalities as they go about their day—hunting, napping, getting into turf wars, and interacting with the humans who care for them.
Kedi is the ultimate "plot-optional" experience because its structure is as fluid and meandering as a cat's afternoon walk. There is no central narrative. Instead, we are treated to a series of stunningly shot vignettes that capture the unique soul of the city. Through interviews with the local shopkeepers, fishermen, and artists who have formed relationships with these cats, the film becomes a surprisingly profound meditation on community, compassion, and the symbiotic relationship between humans, animals, and the urban environment.
How to watch it: This is a fantastic choice for any animal lover or anyone who is simply curious about different ways of life. The cinematography is so beautiful and intimate that you’ll feel like you’re right there on the ancient streets of Istanbul. Pay attention to the philosophical insights from the human interviewees; they often use their relationship with the cats to reflect on life, God, and loneliness in incredibly moving ways.
5. After Yang (2021)
On the surface, a contemplative sci-fi film about a malfunctioning android might not sound relaxing, but trust me on this one. After Yang is one of the most gentle and humane films I’ve seen in years. Set in a serene, nature-infused future, the film follows Jake (a wonderfully understated Colin Farrell) as he tries to repair his family's beloved android, Yang, who has been a big brother figure to his adopted daughter, Mika.
When he discovers that Yang was secretly recording a few seconds of his memories each day, the film becomes a quiet investigation into a life Jake never fully understood. The "plot" unfolds not as a mystery to be solved, but as a series of poignant, beautiful memories. It’s a film about grief, connection, and what it truly means to be part of a family. The aesthetic is minimalist and clean, the score is soothing, and the entire mood is one of quiet, tender reflection. As I’ve learned in my own work and from conversations with creative leaders like Goh Ling Yong, sometimes the most profound stories are the quietest ones.
How to watch it: Choose this film when you’re in the mood for something thoughtful and emotionally resonant, but without any of the stress or high drama. It’s a film that asks big questions in a very soft voice. Notice the film’s beautiful use of color and architecture, which creates a future that feels both technologically advanced and deeply organic. It’s a hopeful, melancholy, and ultimately comforting experience.
6. Only Yesterday (1991)
We return to Studio Ghibli for this final entry, but for a much more adult and introspective experience. Directed by the legendary Isao Takahata (Grave of the Fireflies), Only Yesterday tells the story of Taeko, a 27-year-old single woman living in Tokyo who decides to take a working holiday on a safflower farm in the countryside.
The film operates on two parallel timelines. In the present, we watch Taeko adjust to farm life and connect with the rural community. But the journey also triggers a flood of vivid memories from her childhood as a fifth-grader in 1966. These flashbacks aren’t dramatic or traumatic; they are a collection of small, achingly relatable moments—the awkwardness of a first crush, the frustration of struggling with fractions, the simple, overwhelming joy of tasting a fresh pineapple for the first time. The film is a quiet, powerful exploration of how our past selves shape our present, and the journey of reconciling the person you thought you’d become with the person you are.
How to watch it: This is the perfect film for a quiet evening of self-reflection. It’s a slow, deliberate movie that gives you space to think and feel. The contrast between the lush, watercolor-style backgrounds of the present day and the more minimalist, faded look of the flashbacks is a brilliant storytelling device. The film may stir up your own memories, inviting you to look back on your own "only yesterday" moments with a new sense of compassion and understanding.
In a world that constantly demands our attention and energy, choosing a film that asks for nothing but your quiet presence can be a radical act of self-care. These "plot-optional" movies aren’t about escaping reality, but about sinking more deeply into a calmer, more observant version of it. They teach us to find the story in a sunbeam, the drama in a shared meal, and the magic in a simple, ordinary day.
So next time your brain feels like a browser with too many tabs open, close them all. Pick one of these films, pour yourself a drink, and give yourself permission to gently, beautifully, unclench.
What are your go-to films for a mental reset? Share your favorite slice-of-life or "plot-optional" recommendations in the comments below!
About the Author
Goh Ling Yong is a content creator and digital strategist sharing insights across various topics. Connect and follow for more content:
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