100 Meters (2025) by Kenji Iwaisawa

Togashi (Tori Matsuzaka/Atsumi Tanezaki) is dedicated to the 100-meter sprint, believing that winning that race can solve all problems in life. When he meets transfer student Komiya (Shota Sometani/Aoi Yuki), who is passionate about running, but lacks Togashi’s ability, he decides to train him. After Komiya moves away, the pair meet again years later, now both competent runners and rivals for the National Championships. Meanwhile, other sprinters battling their own demons, are also hoping to claim the coveted number one spot: Zaitsu (Koki Uchiyama), the national record holder, Kaido (Kenjiro Tsuda), his long-time competitor, and Nigami (Jun Kasama), a former star struggling with confidence and physical health.

“100 Meters”, based on the manga by Uoto, with a script by Yasuyuki Muto, appears on the surface as a traditional sports film, with our young protagonists working to overcome various obstacles on their path to greatness. However, the film’s strength is in using the 100 meters race as a metaphor for life itself. Characters often discourse on the event, their drive to win, how they cope with failure, the purpose of running, and whether it is all for naught with the solemnity of people in an existential crisis. For them the race is life in microcosm, the joy, pain, suffering, beauty, thrill, the fear and the potential for glory. The film does an incredible job in bringing to life exactly what it means to the characters. Director Kenji Iwaisawa uses rotoscoping to create lifelike movement that seems unfamiliar at first when compared to traditional animation, but becomes vital in realising this world. It also allows for flowing camera movement and some stunning scenes when paired with the impressionistic style that breaks in on the realism at points. The sequence in which the runners prepare to race in the rain, a mix of rotoscoping and artistic weather effects blends both form and feeling in a unique and compelling style. This method of animation also allows for the performances to shine through, with a top class cast capturing the spirit of each character and their particular world view. Alongside, the main runners we also have a great supporting cast including Rie Takahashi, Yuki Tanaka, and Hiro Ishibashi. The music by Hiroaki Tsutsumi, is used at moments of high-drama to add a kick of adrenaline, getting the blood pumping alongside the athletes as we feel the excitement coursing before and during races.

“100 meters” focusses on a specific event in a specific discipline, but could just as easily have been about any individual event. As mentioned above, the main focus of the film is the relationship between Togashi and Komiya. It is wrong to call it a rivalry as we come to learn that they are not really racing against each other but against themselves; something that Nigami’s character almost states explicitly at one point. Komiya’s believes that nothing matters in the world; he runs because the pursuit of new records has become all-consuming for him; but he is disatisfied, no longer seeing any true value in this pursuit. Togashi, in contrast, comes to have a diffrerent view of the sport; and Zaitsu, Kaido and Nigami likewise all appear to be running for different reasons: either to prove something to themselves, to finally overcome their sense of inadequacy, or because it is all they have. Instead of asking “Why do we run?” the audience is forced to confront the more troubling question of “Why do we live?” What is the purpose of life, when we may not achieve our ultimate goal; or always feel second-best; when we are beset with tragedy and trials; when even victory seems hollow? The film’s answer to this question seems to lie in the final smile of Togashi, and for viewers willing to accept it the film provides solace in a seemingly bleak world.

Lumberjack the Monster (2023) by Takashi Miike

After being attacked by an axe-wielding, mask-wearing assailant, lawyer Akira Ninomiya (Kazuya Kamenashi) sets out to discover who is behind the attack. Meanwhile, detectives Inui (Kiyohiko Shibukawa) and Toshiro (Nanao) are on the trail of the same man who is responsible for a series of slayings in which he took the victims’ brains. The mystery deepens when they discover that all of the victims had a neurochip implant.

Based on a novel by Mayusuke Kurai, with a screenplay by Hiroyoshi Koiwai, “Lumberjack the Monster” is a gory crime thriller with elements of gothic horror directed by Takashi Miike. The prologue set in a large, dimly-lit mansion, with kidnappers experimenting on children and barrels containing the dismembered pre-adolecent corpses of former failed experiments, sets up the dark tone of what is to follow. The film slips between glossy, brightly lit environments and the gloomy underbelly of this society, perfectly visualising the themes of duality in human nature. Kazuya Kamenashi gives a good performance as Ninomiya, a villainous protagonist who displays psychopathic tendencies, working well alongside Shota Sometani’s Sugitani, a doctor who is even more psychologically perverse than Ninomiya, having no qualms about performing fatal experiments on animals and humans alike. Similarly Kiyohiko Shibukawa and Nanao as Inui and Toshiro have good chemistry together as an old-school detective, recently demoted due to attacking a suspect, and a modern behavioural science graduate whose insights and deductive capacity prove invaluable yet frustrating to her partner. The plot may be slightly far-fetched, and later on the holes start to grow wider, but the film manages to hold things together until a final act that provides enough emotional weight to sink any flaws in the logic.

“Lumberjack the Monster” is an intriguing film, part crime thriller, part modern retelling of a traditional folktale. Throughout we hear narration of a children’s book of the same title, telling the story of a monster disguised as a lumberjack. The plot of the book often mirrors the actions of the killer in the film, as well as Ninomiya, and provides an explanation of the themes of the film. One flaw of the film is that it confuses the definition of psychopath as a person who seems to delight in killing and has an insatiable appetite for murder. That being said, the film posits several interesting ideas, regarding personality augmentation, the extent to which people bear responsibility for their actions, and the possibility of forgiveness for even the most horrific crimes. While masked in a near-future, science-fiction, quasi-gothic folklore, the film nevertheless is strikingly relevant to the fields of criminology and forensic psychology. Well worth a watch for fans of slightly outrageous gory crime films.

And Your Bird Can Sing (2018) by Sho Miyake

Tasuku Emoto plays a part-time bookshop employee who falls for one of his co-workers, Sachiko (Shizuka Ishibashi). He seems unfazed by Sachiko’s ongoing relationship with their boss at the bookshop, beginning an affair with her. When Sachiko is introduced to his room-mate Shizuo (Shota Sometani), the three of them begin hanging out together, the lines between friendship and romance becoming increasingly blurred.

Based on the novel by Yasushi Sato, the film was shot on location in Hakodate and the northern city plays a starring role in the film as we follow the characters through late nights and early mornings, the quiet streets, tramlines and telegraph poles a permanent fixture in their lives. While it might be described as a love-triangle, the central tension of the protagonists relationship rarely bubbles to the surface, instead the film delights in subtlety, with stolen glances, or moments of contact left for the audience to decide what the characters are thinking. There is a conflict between the characters’ apparently nonchalant attitutude to romance and each other and the audiences desire to see them express some deeper emotion. The central cast do a great job with these complex characters, believably lackadaisical and directionless young adults, far from the typical romantic heroes of film.

“And Your Bird Can Sing” is a slice-of-life romantic drama that brings us into the world of three lost souls who manage to find a degree of stability through their unconventional relationships with one another. These highly relatable characters with their insecurities and halting attempts at romance are enjoyable to watch, the audience almost being an unseen participant in their lives as Sho Miyake’s intimate direction brings us into the heart of the drama. For the most part the film’s style and tone reflect the ambivalent, carefree attitude of the protagonists, rarely forcing the plot, and instead allowing the characters to simply live and experience the world around them. The film waits until its final moments to give the audience a degree of closure, with the characters finally giving voice to their unspoken feelings. The slow pace and lack of a conventional plot may alienate some, but the film succeeds in creating intriguing protagonists and a believable world lacking the familiar surities of more run-of-the-mill love stories.

Belle (2021) by Mamoru Hosoda

Suzu (Kaho Nakamura) is a shy high-school student living with her father. When her best friend Hiro (Lilas Ikuta) invites her to “U”, an online virtual reality world, Suzu is transformed into “Bell”, a beautiful avatar with a voice that soon attracts millions of followers. While her online alter-ego gains popularity, Suzu remains largely unnoticed at school, aside from her childhood friend Shinobu (Ryo Narita), Hiro, and “Kamishin” (Shota Sometani), the lone member of the canoe club. Suzu’s enviable online life is disrupted by the appearance of a mysterious figure in the guise of a beast, known as Dragon (Takeru Sato) whose shocking appearance and pugilistic lifestyle pique her curiosity. She sets out with Hiro to discover who is behind this avatar.

Mamoru Hosoda returns to some of the themes of his earlier film “Summer Wars” with this modern take on the “Beauty and the Beast” story set partly online. The world of “U” differs from most depictions of online environments with the futuristic addition of biometric transfer, meaning that individuals own biometrics are used to generate their avatars, and a fully immersive environment, allowing them to see and feel as if they were in that other world. There is plenty of familiarity in the plot of “Belle”, with Suzu having lost her mother; struggling to “find her voice”; several teen romances; a geeky friend; and the idea of an outsider figure being helped by the protagonist; but the film combines these elements into a unique story. Despite the nods to the older fairytale, and the inclusion of a few references to Beauty and the Beast (roses, a romantic ballroom dance), the film actually diverges significantly from this to the extent that it has few of the same themes. “Belle” tells its own tale creativitely, often breaking into collage like scenes of multiple people talking on webcams, or the touching montage of Suzu’s memories of her mother. This inventiveness transforms a straightforward story into something more heartfelt and engaging, utilising the techniques of online discourse (multiple references, and a more fragmentary style) to create something that feels modern despite its traditional storytelling. The animation is excellent with the online scenes reminiscent of the aforementioned “Summer Wars” and Satoshi Kon’s “Paprika” in the numerous avatars. There are moments that are almost transcendental as we see the vastness of this online space, a modern tower of babel of a million voices calling in unison. Music plays a major part in the story and the songs by a team of artists are inspiring and performed with spirit. While the film is a little overlong, perhaps over ambitious in the number of subplots it attempts to weave in, it manages to hit its emotional beats every time.

“Belle” deals with several themes. Through the online world Suzu is able to rediscover her true self again following a withdrawal into herself following her mother’s death. This transformative power of technology is shown in more stark contrast with the story of Kei, who is escaping a tragic homelife of physical abuse and attempting to create a hero for his younger brother to aspire to. It is interesting to see a largely positive take on the idea of social networks and online spaces with the central message being that they should be used to supplement and aid us rather than becoming an all-consuming other life. The film also finds time for a satirical dig at internet commercialisation, with the self-important guardians of “U” appearing in front of a bank of sponsor logos. Hosoda does an incredible job of dealing with difficult themes, of loss and child abuse, in a family friendly film that manages to be uplifting and positive.

Tokyo Tribe (2014) by Sion Sono

A hip-hop musical action comedy with lashings of ultra-violence, drawing on martial arts, gangster and exploitation cinema. “Tokyo Tribe” begins by introducing us to a fantastical fictionalized Tokyo run by gangs who have carved the megalopolis up into various districts. These include the Bukuro Wu-Ronz, Nerimathafuckers, the Gira Gira Girls in Kabukicho, and the laid-back Musashino gang. The leader of the Bukuro gang is Mera (Ryohei Suzuki), a sadistic gangster who answers only to Buppa (Riki Takeuchi), a crazy crime-boss with a reputation for violence. Mera has a grudge against Kai (Young Dais) from the Musashino group and plans to lure him into a conflict. Kai manages to call on the other gang leaders to back him up in his fight against Mera and Buppa. A young woman known as Sunmi (Nana Seino) who is kidnapped by Buppa’s gang later turns out to be the daughter of an important ally from Wong Kong, who sends his kung-fu enforcers to bring her back.  

With a relatively straightforward plot the film is able to spend most of its time on the cartoonish violence and creating a vibrant, chaotic alternate Tokyo; everything from the sets and costumes to the acting is dialled right up to deliver a sensory assault in keeping with the aggressive and anarchic tone.

Sion Sono is a director who is not afraid of creating works that are both shocking and humorous, seeming to relish the juxtaposition of various genres and elements. This film is no exception. You are never quite sure what to expect as things only get more extreme as they proceed, with the ending being a spectacular rap musical fight sequence that caps the increasing tension building to it. It is certainly unusual to see a hip-hop musical, but by leaning in to the wildness and comedy Sono makes it work. The music is enjoyable and there are a few great hooks and bars throughout.  Many of the cast are rappers so are able to sell the lyrics and bring their own swagger to the roles. Together with the non-rapper actors, including Shota Sometani who acts as a participant narrator, they do a great job of bringing this colourful world to life, playing outrageous stereotypes of ‘gangster rappers’ with a sense of fun. Sono has an incredible eye for visuals and the set design and costumes gives him a chance to really push the boat out, drawing inspiration from various places. With the white-painted human statues reminiscent of the Korova Milk Bar in “A Clockwork Orange”; references to Bruce Lee’s yellow tracksuit as seen on Uma Thurman in “Kill Bill”; the set dressing, pink and red balloons and wallpapers, in various rooms of the red-light district of Saga town are all highly suggestive, using the environment to full effect in creating tone. Slightly less overt are Erika’s virginal white underwear underwear and the seemingly bizarre phallic ornament that Buppa both displays and uses as a substitute for his own member at times; both of which have subtextual significance. All of the gangs have a unique style that make them instantly recognizable and say a lot about them without needing to explain it.

“Tokyo Tribe” is an unusual film, both in its blend of genres and in its themes. It is a film that seems to indulge absolutely male fantasies of sex and violence; with sadistic and chauvinistic criminals, pimps and prostitutes, powerful kung-fu masters, all wrapped in gangster rap bravado. However, the film largely seems to be poking fun at many of these things. There is a distancing effect to having the film be a musical, including Shota Sometani’s role as MC Show. This fourth-wall breaking helps to recast the misogynistic overtones as a criticism of misogyny and male-violence. While the stakes are high, the over-the-top performances from Riki Takeuchi in particular, mean it is hard to take any of it too seriously. In this sense the film can be seen as an attempt to puncture the grandiosity and violent posturing of hip-hop, with an unsubtle dig at the male fixation on sex and violence. We later discover that Mera has an unhealthy obsession with penis size as a measure of a man’s worth and this is the source of his envy and hatred for Kai. The film is essentially ridiculing popular ideas of what masculinity is. The character of Erika, who has come to Tokyo to escape being a virgin sacrifice for her father, further shows the horrors of a male-dominated world. In the Musashino crew we have a group who from the beginning espouse a philosophy of love and peace, and it is this that finally wins the day, against the meaningless violence that seems to characterise the other gangs in Tokyo.

Drawing on various influences, from hip-hop to gangster films, Hong Kong action cinema, the outrageous villains of Japanese teen manga, the filmmakers and actors create a fun alternate reality, with amusing caricatures and a great soundtrack, that can be enjoyed as a tongue-in-cheek dig at much of the culture.