Of all the phrases that could start a light-hearted animated movie, the Serenity Prayer popularized by Alcoholics Anonymous is certainly one of the least likely. But “interior colorsWhich begins with a prayer to God to grant me the peace to accept the things I can’t change, is no ordinary animated film. It is directed by naoko yamadaHis work in anime series (“K-On!”) and films (“A Silent Voice,” “Liz and the Blue Bird”) have established him as one of the medium’s most distinctive current voices. Perfectly fitting his oeuvre’s focus on youthful hopes and desires, the film follows a trio of teenagers who form an ad-hoc rock band, delving into their personal lives with a refreshingly low-key and compassionate touch. Are.
The prayer in question is offered by Totsuko (Sayu Suzukawa), a student at an all-girls Catholic high school in Japan. Since childhood, she has had a unique form of synesthesia, where she would often see people emitting a certain color, which Yamada expressed in a style similar to watercolor painting. One day, she notices a particularly vibrant blue complexion of her classmate Kimi (Akari Takashi), who suddenly leaves school. When they reunite at the used bookstore where Kimi works, they meet Rui (Taisei Kido), a young man with an interest in music, whose bright green complexion causes Totsuko to become one of her new companions. Is forced to form a band together.
Even though Kimi is a self-proclaimed beginner guitarist and Totsuko barely knows how to play the piano, the three regularly gather at an abandoned church on the island where Rui lives, and have amassed an impressive collection of musical instruments to enhance their impressive playing. Is. These practice sessions are linked to family problems: Kimi has not yet told her grandmother that she has dropped out of school, while Rui’s mother wants her to continue practicing family therapy.
In another film, even one from this director, these narrative rhythms would take up a considerable amount of oxygen. Yamada, who started out as an animator for Kyoto Animation, is best known Stateside for his 2016 feature “A Silent Voice,” about a young man coming to terms with his past as a gangster. Manane’s story was told, full of pain and emotional turmoil. Among his ensemble cast of equally suffering teenage misfits. Even 2018’s “Liz and the Blue Bird,” his most beautiful film to date, operated with a quiet intensity that informed the depth of emotion present within its central, ambiguous relationship/infatuation.
“The Colors Within” is Yamada’s first feature film for Science SARU, the anime studio best known for its contributions to Masaki Yuasa (“Inu-Oh,” “The Night Is Short, Walk on Girl”) and the series “Scott.” goes. The pilgrim departs.” While there are some differences in the animation style from Yamada’s KyoAni days – softer edges, lighter colors – perhaps the most significant difference comes in his general approach to tone and character. The turmoil of her previous works has been replaced by something more optimistic, symbolizing Totsuko’s tendency to continually emphasize perspective. Although it would be wrong to say that her character lacks development, the changes in her personality and self-understanding are much less outward than those of her friends. Part of the balancing act of “The Colors Within” lies in adhering to Totsuko’s perspective, even when the concerns of others take center stage.
This perhaps comes out most clearly in the film’s surprisingly thoughtful treatment of religion, especially in an educational environment. The clichés of a Catholic school are largely absent, and Totsuko is often mentored by Sister Hiyoshiko (Yui Aragaki), a sympathetic teacher whose presence highlights the school’s stereotypically repressive atmosphere. Her peripheral search for peace mirrors Totsuko’s, and by extension Kimi and Rui’s, search. Although “The Colors Within” does not aim for the psychological depth of Yamada’s previous work – in particular, the nature of Totsuko’s attraction/attraction to Kimi diminishes as the film progresses – the emotional undercurrents of its characters. Its alignment with Yamada is cemented by some of Yamada’s flourishes: frequent close-ups that draw attention to the characters’ body expressions, slightly bouncing “cameras” that move in and out of focus. It’s as if the image is pulsating with life, cutting into the middle of a conversation to end a scene on an unexpected note.
All these little touches add up to an extraordinary, uninterrupted 10-minute concert, where “The Colors Within” makes clear that musical proficiency was never the main goal, especially for Totsuko. While the three songs performed are catchy and moving in their own ways, and Kimi’s lead vocals are particularly heartfelt, more notable is the pure embodiment of the music and each character’s relationship with each other, a blend of souls. Which still retains its individual nature. The film ends with an unexpected but perfect acceptance of all the emotions present in their conversation, which registers as an open door with a bright future in clear sight.
