The Case of Hana and Alice (2015) by Shunji Iwai

Transfer student Tetsuko “Alice” Arisugawa (Yu Aoi) finds herself embroiled in a mystery involving a missing classmate at her new school in this lighthearted comedy-drama. Shortly after arriving at her new school, Alice discovers that the student who used to have her desk, known as “Judas”, disappeared, some believing he was murdered. Alice later discovers that “Judas” (Ryo Katsuji), real name Kotaro Yuda, had four ‘wives’ and some believe that his seat is cursed. In an attempt to get to the bottom of the mystery, Alice takes fellow student Mutsu Mutumi’s (Ranran Suzuki) advice and seeks help from her shut-in neighbour, Hana (Anne Suzuki). Hana concocts a plan to find out once and for all what really happened to Kotaro, and make amends for her own part in his disappearance.

“The Case of Hana and Alice”, is a prequel of sorts to writer-director Shunji Iwai’s previous live-action film “Hana and Alice” (2004), which reunites the leads Yu Aoi and Anne Suzuki from that film to voice the same characters here. The relationship between the two friends is humorous and heart-warming, although it arrives later in the film that you might expect. Once they are together, their scheming to find out what happened to Kotaro provides both the chance to show their comedic cadences. The rotoscoped animation style creates fluid, realistic action, with some standout scenes of Alice running, or the two girl’s playfully teasing one another. The soft colours and gentle piano score make for a a relaxing time, with the art direction beautifully capturing late afternoon sunsets and the familiar sights of train tracks, school grounds, residential streets, and apartment blocks. The central mystery is intriguing, but you sense early on that it far from the point of the film. Instead it is more of a device for bringing these characters together and exploring their relationships and inner lives.

Teenage romance; classroom rumours; adapting to a strange new town and school; and making friends: the film provides a simple, yet stylish, exploration of these relatable moments in development. With minimal threat and light-hearted comedy routed in character, the film is an enjoyable watch, made more so by the outstanding voice performances of the two leads.

Su-ki-da (2005) by Hiroshi Ishikawa

After giving up on baseball, highschooler Yosuke (Eita) spends his time after school practicing guitar, hoping to pursue a career in music. His classmate Yu (Aoi Miyazaki) comes to watch him play, although Yosuke seems uninterested in her. Yu is left in tears after kissing him when Yosuke runs away from her. He seems more interested in Yu’s elder sister (Sayuri Oyamada), who has lost her partner in a tragic accident. On her way to meet Yosuke, Yu’s sister is involved in an accident that leaves her in a coma. 17 years later, Yosuke (Hidetoshi Nishijima) and Yu (Hiromi Nagasaku) are reunited when Yu arrives at the music studio where he works to perform the song that he himself created in highschool, finally offering them both the chance for closure.

Written and directed by Hiroshi Ishikawa, “Su-ki-da” is a subtle romantic drama that leans heavily towards realism, with long pregnant silences as the characters sit beside each other, unwilling to express their inner thoughts. Aided by captivating performances by both the younger and older actors, we get a real sense of character, albeit largely confined to nuanced reactions or lack of communication rather than melodramatic set-pieces. Ishikawa’s measured cinematography captures these moments of tension as we wait expectantly for something to happen, creating genuine compassion for the protagonists. The plot is strikingly sparse yet effective, with a contemplative mood that gives the audience time to simply sit and ruminate with the characters.

“Su-ki-da” will not be for everyone, with its languid pacing and narrow focus on the two protagonsists, but there is plenty here to enjoy for fans of slow cinema. The film’s central drama is in the inability of characters to truly connect with one another, and the difficulty of genuine communication or understanding. We see this in the drawn out silences as we ourselves are forced to wonder what the characters are experiencing in these moments. The broad expanse of blue sky above the characters gives the impression of humanity as small, fragile creatures, albeit with dreams that stretch to unknown horizons. The repeated strains of Yosuke’s guitar riff, endlessly practiced but never perfected, are a perfect metaphor for humanity’s failure to realize an ultimate goal. Life is a work in progress, a journey without a destination. The time jump from high-school to adulthood shifts the drama from rural greens to urban greys, indicating a change in the characters from absolute freedom and opportunity to the more constrictive bounds of adult life. The final moments of the film come as catharsis from the mounting tension throughout, signifying not so much an ending as a new beginning. This quiet, contemplative film will deter some, but there is a beauty in its simplicity that speaks to real artistry.

Silent Love (2024) by Eiji Uchida

A blind woman and a mute man fall for one another in this unconventional romantic drama. Mika (Minami Hamabe) is a pianist at the prestigious Yokohama College of Music. Following a car accident in which she lost her sight, she has also given up on her dreams of performing. When she attempts to jump from one of the campus buildings she is saved by a caretaker, Aoi (Ryosuke Yamada), who is mute after having had his throat cut in a street fight while at High School. Aoi takes it upon himself to help Mika, hoping that she will one day be able to live out her dream, something that he feels he will never be able to do given his past and less affluent circumstances. Aoi recruits Yuma Kitamura (Shuhei Nomura), another student who is deep in gambling debts to perform for Mika after Aoi fails to correct her belief that he is also a pianist at the college.

Director Eiji Uchida crafts a compelling drama from a script written by Uchida and Yukiko Manabe. The film is a traditional romantic tale, reminiscent of “See Hear Love” (2023) in which our two attractive leads fall for each other despite a rather superficial problem. However, it doesn’t lean hard into the sentimentality, and doesn’t define the characters by their conditions. Instead, Mika is seen to be a wealthy student still determined to continue after her setback; while Aoi finds new purpose in life through his support of her. The film’s central tension comes more from the difference in their social class than their disabilities. The main cast excel in their roles, capturing the depth of the characters, and their numerous traumas and trials. The saccharine sweetness of a college romance is undercut by a brutal sequence later in the film that sees Kitamura’s past catch up with him and which helps bring to the fore the beauty of wholesome kindness displayed by Aoi towards Mika, and her gratitude to him. Joe Hisaishi provides a score that is bright and joyful and the musical accompaniment includes several piano performances befitting the narrative.

It would be easy to dismiss “Silent Love” as a typical romantic drama, with cliches such as the coincidental meeting, the flimsy love-triangle that falls apart at first inspection, and plot holes such as Aoi not simply using text-to-speech to talk to Mika. However, the performances make us care about these characters and in the bloody sequence of Aoi’s street fight and the gang violence is shows us that light, happiness, and romance are not things to be taken for granted but a privelege that it is imperative to embrace. The film ends precicely as you might expect, but not before putting its characters through a horrendous ordeal. Aoi’s decision to choose kindness over violence is shown not to be an easy one, and the impassioned outburst from his friend as he attempts to explain the gulf between Aoi and Mika’s social status resonates beyond the framework of the plot. “Silent Love” is a sweet and sentimental love story that hides darker truths beneath its glimmering surface.

Haru (1996) by Yoshimitsu Morita

Haru (Seiyo Uchino) and Hoshi (Eri Fukatsu) meet on an online movie discussion forum and strike up a friendship. As the pair continue to e-mail one another, revealing little by little facts about their lives, their relationship begins to develop from friendship to dependence and perhaps love. Haru is a former American football player, who, having lost the ability to play, is attempting to find meaning in his life. Working as a salesman in Tokyo, his relationship with his girlfriend seems lacking in contrast to the openness he shares with Hoshi. Living in rural Morioka, Hoshi is still reeling from the death of her high-school boyfriend, attempting to make a connection without the danger of emotional distress.

Written and directed by Yoshimitsu Morita, “Haru” offers a look at modern, online, relationships with a unique twist on the romance genre. Almost the entire relationship betwen Haru and Hoshi plays out online, with their e-mail correspondence appearing on-screen, with backgrounds of city streets, ticket-barriers, or other elements of everyday life. Occassionally, the messages will appear on a completely blank screen, in complete silence, or underscored by the beautiful soundtrack provided by Soichi Noriki and Toshihiko Sahashi. It is a bold decision to have the story told in this way, and one that may not appeal to everyone. We do see Haru’s relationship with two women, a girlfriend who leaves for Australia and another companion named Rose (Naho Toda), whose forward approach is in stark contrast to the demure Hoshi’s messages. Meanwhile, Hoshi is also visited by Tobe (Kotaro Takeshita), a friend who is attempting to kindle a relationship following the loss of her partner (who was also named ‘Haru’). There are a number of twists in the story of the two protagonists as their relationship develops, and even small moments are imbued with significance, such as Hoshi revealing her real name, or discussing her change of jobs. The film’s slow pace and unconventional style may be off-putting for those expecting something more melodramatic, but the quiet burgeoning of love between the two, and the seperation between them does build tension and expectation as the film progresses.

“Haru” is a modern love-story that touches on themes of love and loneliness, the way in which humans present different faces to the world, particularly with the anonymity offered by online spaces, and the difficulty in expressing our true emotions to fellow humans. You will spend more time reading the screen than listening to characters, which further establishes this sense of unreality and isolation that the protagonists feel, but the script is well written and their ‘dialogues’ are believable and with enough there to keep you engaged. The film asks us to consider what is truly important in a relationship, with Haru and Hoshi forming a much stronger bond by not meeting than they do with those with whom they share a physical connection. A curious romantic drama that champions the benefits of communication and selfless love, and considers how humans relate to each other in an increasingly isolating world.

Undead Lovers (2024) by Daigo Matsui

Aged 7, Rino Hasebe survives a serious illness after meeting a mysterious young boy named Jun Kouno who vanishes when she calls out to him. Through the following decades she repeatedly meets this man again, every time ending in frustration as he disappears as soon as she confesses her love for him. Finally, Rino (Ai Mikami) meets Jun (Kanta Sato) at university, but he has no memory of her, and furthermore has short-term memory loss meaning he is unable to recall the events of the preceding day. Rino is determined to meet with him every day, repeatedly confessing her feelings to him and hoping that he does not vanish.

Adapted from the manga series “Fujimi Lovers” by Yuna Takagi, with a screenplay by director Daigo Matsui and Toshiya Ono, “Undead Lovers” is a romantic drama based on an interesting premise. The opening half of the film, featuring the various reunions of Rino and Jun, sets up a mystery in the form of his disappearances and failure to remember their previous meetings. This is explained later in the film in a way that is logical and causes you to reassess both what happened and the characters’ responses to it. The second half of the film is taken up with the couple’s relationship at university where Jun is dealing with severe memory loss. Ai Mikami and Kanta Sato have good chemistry as the young couple and we sympathise with both of them in this unusual situation. Yuzu Aoki is also enjoyable as Tanaka, Rino’s long-suffering best friend. The film’s bright, beautiful setting is perfect for the light tone of the majority of the film creating a vibrant summer feeling with the lush surroundings of forested mountains and seaside. While the film requires several logical leaps, such as how Jun is able to complete a university course while unable to remember anything that happened the previous day; or why Rino’s friend Tanaka fails to give her crucial information, it does provide a relaxing and relatable drama about young love.

For the most part “Undead Lovers” treads familiar ground with the overly keen Rino chasing her dream of a relationship with the charismatic Jun. The film does features a fun twist with the revelation about Jun’s repeated disappearances, which speaks both to Rino’s character and the themes of unrequited love. Throughout we see how memory is fickle, with characters forgetting important details about their pasts. It also touches on the importance of living in the moment rather than being overly concerned about the past or the future. The past has such a major impact on our sense of self and our relationships that it is interesting to consider what happens when this is taken from us. Jun’s story in particular, with his inability to remember day to day, is heartwrenching as he is forced to relive everything again and again without recourse to his memories. Similarly, Rino faces a constant struggle to reaffirm her love for him, without the comfort of knowing that he will remember their shared experiences. A lighthearted romantic drama with an novel twist that will please fans of the genre.