Summary
Few screenwriters in anime are as prolific as Mari Okada, whose adept hand has penned TV anime both original and adapted, and whose prowess has since propelled her into directing.Maboroshi, her newest film, touches on stagnationand isolation through a fantastical yet dreary framing, and though it won’t leave everyone satisfied, it is one well worth pondering.
Okada’s previous work,Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms, conceived a fantasy where a mother was cursed to remain stagnant in an ever-changing world. More than five years later,Maboroshiseemingly reverses this dynamic, imagining a modern city trapped in perpetual winter, with its inhabitants disallowed from growing, maturing, or passing on.
A Wonderfully Explored Premise
When the movie opens, Masamune Kikuiri is a normal 14-year-old boy like any other, studying with his friends while staying warm under a kotatsu. Suddenly, a commotion is heard from across town, prompting the boys to gather at the window; an explosion at the steel factory, and strange lights in the sky. Next, a black screen, followed by all four boys back in the room, under the kotatsu,as if the scene were repeating itself. But everything feels different - feels wrong.
The pathways out of town are blocked, and even the sea conspires to keep them held within their seaside town. As time passes, people realize what has happened. Their town has become frozen in time and no one knows how long it will last or if it will ever end. The viewer isn’t even told how many years have passed until an off-hand remark later, but from the get-go, it’s easy to tell that it’s been a while.
Maboroshiis a story made captivating by the very nature of its premise and the implications therein. Beyondthe tale of young love central to the plot, the film explores the impact of this curse from multiple angles and the script may very well have crumbled without it. The opening act presents enough anecdotes that the audience can infer the many horrors of being trapped in one’s own body with no possibility of changing.
As scary as death is, it is the natural destination of life, a road on which change isn’t just natural but essential, and this film effectively illustrates how frightening the lack of it can be. A baby is never allowed to be born, a child is never allowed to grow, and the elderly are not allowed to pass on. To this end, the narrative explores how this microcosm of society responds to this bizarre curse and the rules they impose to make sense of the indiscernible.
Masamune and his friends are made to attend a schoolthey’ll never graduate from and write yearly reports about their dreams for the future which they aren’t allowed to change. It’s a pantomime of life, all to prevent anyone from changing too greatly, just in case the world goes back to normal. Within this prison of monotony, Masamune becomes entangled with Mutsumi Sagami, a girl who despises him, but there’s clearly more between them than that.
The Story of Maboroshi
One day, after catching Masamune’s attention through some light mischief, Mutsumi enlists his help with a certain anomaly. In the middle of the steel mill, which now seems to operate on its own, lies a feral young girl who looks suspiciously like Mutsumi, the one tasked with watching over the girl. No one knows how she got there, but she’s the only one who has been aging, having appeared there when she was a toddler.
Despite not volunteering for such a task, Masamuneis roped into taking care of the child, whom he later names Itsumi. The mystery of her origins and how she is connected to the anomaly that has trapped the town serve as the vehicle through which Masamune and Mutsumi confront their fate and their feelings for one another.
To complicate matters further, the cracks of light in the sky are becoming more frequent, as is the appearance of the strange smoke monsters that close them. The cracks are even starting to form in people with intense emotions, leading to more paranoia and rules forbidding people from expressing their deepest desires. This is where the antagonist steals the show.
Mutsumi’s father, voiced by Setsuji Satou, is by farthe most entertaining - albeit enraging - part of this film. Mamoru Sagami is a spiritual figurehead within the community, rallying the people behind the idea that they are all being divinely punished - the basis behind their strict policies. Despite his status and charismatic facade, he comes off as a shy, pitiful opportunist who has used the circumstances to cling to power he’d never attain in the regular world.
Funnily enough, it’s through the villain’s hypocrisy that the true message of the film becomes so apparent. Just as the town is a microcosm of society, the thought experiment trapping them is used to illustrate something that is just as true in our real world. Being alive is about changing direction far more than it is about walking a single path, so it is imperative to embrace change, enjoy life, and always seek to improve oneself.
The Message vs. The Plot
If it weren’t already clear, there is a lot to chew on aboutMaboroshi, which is perhaps its greatest asset,arguably beaten only by the artwork. The scenery is effectively dreary and depressive, matching the emotional state of the characters, but divorced from the tone, it is undeniably gorgeous, aided greatly by Masaru Yokoyama’s score. With that said, it’s hard to call this film excellent, even with so many provocative ideas.
While the story explores its premise thoroughly, it still feels like it hints at just a few too many character arcs that don’t go anywhere, making the supporting cast feel pretty forgettable. Worse yet, the main climax is held back by the number of questions that go unanswered. For some viewers, those questions might not be as important as what can be interpreted by the viewer, and the overall message might be weaker were the film to spoon-feed explanations.
To this point, there is a balance between leaving room for interpretation and equipping the viewer to understand just enough to be invested to the end.Take Makoto Shinkai’s latest films for example, where the reasons behind the supernatural are left vague, but where the rules are just clear enough to push the story forward. Besides, the total explanations aren’t as important as what the phenomena mean to the characters and their stories.
Maboroshitoes a similar line, but can’t quite stick the landing because the conclusion is ultimately a bit too vague. As a result, the things one will take away from the film rely entirely on their propensity for looking for a deeper meaning. This isn’t to say that the characters or the central love story aren’t captivating because they certainlycan be, but at least personally speaking, it’s the last thing that I think about when I ponder this film.
Mari Okada’sMaboroshilikelywon’t be as beloved asMaquiabefore it, but it is worth watching for the ideas behind its narrative. It is an endearingly earnest contemplation of life and love in a space where life feels like it is on pause, and especially after the pandemic, its optimism might be more necessary than ever.
Our Score: 3.5 out of 5
