Look Back

This review contains spoilers.

Look Back is a short film (58 minutes) based on the original manga by Chainsaw Man's Tatsuki Fujimoto and tells the tale of a popular elementary schoolgirl called Ayumu Fujino who draws 4-koma manga strips for the school paper. Confident in her abilities (to the point of narcissism) but talented in other ways too, her focus is only really attained when she's asked to cede one of her strips to a school truant and shut-in called Kyomoto and finds herself vastly outclassed. Eschewing her friends and family to outdo her new rival, Ayumu studies art diligently, but alas finds that she simply cannot keep up and puts her pencils away in frustration.

Tasked with delivering Kyomoto's middle school diploma a few years later, she discovers that Kyomoto is an agoraphobic and never leaves the house. Letting herself in thanks to an open front door, Ayumu is shocked by the piles of sketchbooks piled outside of Kyomoto's room, she finds a slip of paper and draws a 4-koma strip mocking the recluse which accidentally gets dropped and slides under the door. Kyomoto realises someone is in the house and enthusiastically meets Ayumu whose work inspired her to take up art in the first place. Impressed by the adoration, Ayumu takes up drawing again and starts work on a new manga project which she plans to enter into competitions. Finding Kyomoto to be skilled at backgrounds, the two form a partnership and become close friends, whiling away hours together creatively and ultimately create a work that wins a cash prize. They follow this up with multiple one shots and enjoy a fruitful partnership through high school.

When Ayumu decides to create a serialized manga, Kyomoto announces that she wants to attend college and learn more about art, forcing the pair to go their separate ways. When tragedy strikes, Ayumu has to reconcile her feelings and come to terms with the friend she lost.

The anime has a wonderfully varied style to it, the backbone being a stylised reality with rough edges and slightly stylised proportions, occasionally adopting other styles such as a rough black and white look for Ayumu's early strips or a more polished and action-oriented aesthetic during a fantasy sequence set in Kyomoto's college. It's a sure-footed and confident use of the medium that lends a lot of texture to the story as it unfolds. Likewise, the score by Haruka Nakamura is whimsical, heartfelt and enjoyable to listen to, the total absence of which is almost deafening when the tale drops its narrative gut punch.

I found the film intensely moving, and I'm sure I would have done so even if it hadn't almost directly mirrored my own personal experience. Long time readers may remember Douglas Robertson who was a frequent collaborator of mine at work and at UKA  (as well as close friend) whose life was tragically cut short when he was killed in a hit and run by car thieves. Like Ayumu and Kyomoto, I have fond memories of working around the clock on projects with tight deadlines (36 hours being our record) and admit felt the same heart-stopping emotion when Ayumu got the phone call I myself remember receiving all those years ago. Doug's legacy is embedded in this site, and even the camera I use to take the toy photos is a result of the insurance money his mother gifted me after his family and I spent two years fighting for compensation. Each picture is a little piece of Doug still working with me on the platform we spent so much time developing and remind me of him every time I use it.

Subsequently I can identify so much with Ayumu that I find it hard to be objective - on a technical level the film is masterfully assured, beautifully presented and perfectly scored. The alternative fantasy scene is a little jarring initially, but you understand its purpose in the wider narrative and it provides the "what if" I also ran through so many times in my own experience. This is a film that understands loss and portrays it beautifully. In Ayumu the show provides a lead that isn't instantly likeable, too self-interested and arrogant to be truly endearing, but she's changed by her encounter with a kindred spirit and the two souls work together to become better than they were alone. And like Ayumu, I miss my friend. 

It may be a short film but that doesn't leave it lacking in raw emotions or skilful direction. This is a film that deserves as wide an audience as possible, showcasing just how powerfully moving and thought-provoking the animated form can be at its best.