Review: Great things come in small packages in the emotionally potent Look Back

What is it they say about great things and small packages?

Well, whatever it is, it's certainly true in the case of Look Back, Kiyotaka Oshiyama's adaptation of Tatsuki Fujimoto's one-shot manga. The film clocks in at just under an hour, but it makes a huge impact, packing lots of emotion and lovely character moments in, never feeling like a moment is wasted.

Fujino is a grade-school student who draws manga for her school newspaper. Her work is well-liked, and it's easy to see why. It's funny, in-your-face, and bold. Near the start of the film, we see one of her strips brought to life, titled "First Kiss" and ending with the destruction of the world. It's good, funny stuff, and she feels like a superstar, basking in the glory and attention of her adoring fans (classmates who are happy to have a laugh).

But one day, Fujino's teacher asks if she'd mind sharing the space with another student, the truant Kyomoto. Fujino agrees but thinks it'll be a struggle for an "amateur" to come up with anything worthwhile. When the first shared issue comes out, Fujino is shaken by the beauty of Kyomoto's wordless scenes. Her work, by comparison, feels childish, unaccomplished, even bad.

Thus, the stage is set for a story that is about the power of art and, perhaps moreso, the power of friendship. The small moments that allow us to connect to each other. The gestures that echo through the years. The memories we make together, big and small. The feeling of connecting with someone who loves the things you do, whose talents complement yours, whose presence feels easy, right. Being an artist can mean inhabiting a lonely world, but it doesn't have to be that way. 

Here, Fujino and Kyomoto form a friendship that in some ways feels unlikely, but in other ways feels destined to be. Indeed, the movie bears out these competing readings in a sweet fantastical twist toward the end to lovely effect. It feels like these two were meant to be -- maybe it was written in the stars, maybe it was written by a manga artist, maybe it became fate when they joined hands and ran through the streets as middle schoolers, the world blurring around them, no one else really existing outside of them. Look Back really captures the magic of making a friend as a kid who becomes a fixture in your life. Seasons pass, pages are written and drawn, and always, Fujino and Kyomoto are together, working, trudging through the snow, celebrating a win where they can.

After our screening tonight, Oshiyama-san talked in a Q&A about his approach to animating the film. I don't remember the term, but basically, the film uses more of the key art rather than the in-between drawings that usually are traced from the key art and thus more refined. This means the lines are rougher than we might expect from anime, which gives the film extra emotional immediacy. It really comes through in the characters' facial expressions. Every flinch of an eye or turn of a lip speaks volumes. It's gorgeous work.

I think what surprised me most about Look Back is just how great the runtime feels. I thought I'd be left wanting more, wishing the story had been fleshed out more, just an extra twenty minutes, fifteen? Please? But the film is paced so well, makes such great use of its real estate time-wise and in its beautiful compositions, that it ends up just feeling right. It's a weird runtime for a movie, too long to be a short, too short to be considered a feature by some measures, but it's the right runtime. What a relief.

And, that short runtime means that no one really has an excuse to not give this movie a chance. Maybe not in theaters (since I'm sure it doesn't have the theatrical footprint it deserves). But whenever it comes to you, whether in a theater, or streaming, or wherever else, give yourself over to it, and let yourself get swept up in the power, the emotion, and the beauty of Look Back.