Review: 100 Meters is a thrilling, emotional sprint to the finish

I married into a family of runners. I was, decidedly, not a runner. But after watching how much they enjoyed it (and particularly after sitting out a Thanksgiving 5K -- yes, that is the kind of family I married into), I decided to give it a go. Now, all these years later, I can't imagine my life without running. It's a source of energy, of stress relief, of a time to tune out or tune in. 

Running isn't one thing. It doesn't mean one thing. It's a way to navigate the world maybe, to escape (or break) reality, to feel things more sharply, to not feel anything at all. 100 Meters, the latest film from director Kenji Iwaisawa (On-Gaku: Our Sound) and based on the manga by Uoto, knows all of this, knows more than this, and finds ways to present the amorphous truth of running without feeling like it's backing down from saying anything. Instead, it feels like it's saying everything, from a place of deep understanding.

Almost every character in 100 Meters has the chance to talk about why they run (particularly, why they run in professional competitive settings). Often, they're asking this question of each other. Sometimes, they're asking it of themselves. Running can be a reflection of their worldview, or a refraction of it. Over and over again, the characters posit theories about what running means or represents, and the film never negates or inherently endorses any of these theories, because it's something personal to each character, and ultimately, it feels like it's the thesis of the movie. It extends beyond running. We all move through the world, and through our lives, in different ways and for different reasons, and we're all right to do it the way we do. Or at least, we're not wrong. We have to do the best we can to play the cards to dealt, or I guess to run the track that's laid before us. It isn't always easy, but sometimes, it might be joyous, and make the world feel more vibrant and alive, perhaps even a little less lonely.

The matter of loneliness is one of the most interesting topics 100 Meters touches upon. One of the periphery characters is Zaitsu, who holds the Japanese record for the 100 meter dash. Late in the film, he talks about the loneliness of being at the top -- when you look to either side of you, there's no one else there. He says it's the same as being in dead last, alone. 

And running is often (maybe mostly) a lonely sport. Sure, there are run clubs, track teams, organized events, but at the end of the day, you're running by yourself, in your body. It's a physical task, to be sure, but it's even more so a mental task. You have to overcome the thousand mental roadblocks that might stop you in your tracks. Sometimes, a good run is a way to easily smash through them. Other times, they might make you stumble and fall.

The mental aspect is key to one of the film's protagonists, Komiya. We meet him as the new kid at school, and a very poor runner. He pushes himself to his absolute limits, but finds himself wiping out, exhausted. Later on in the film (the whole thing takes place over fifteen years or so), he talks about anxiety over an old injury manifesting when he runs, and how it causes him to slow down, not finish strong. He's a kinetic bundle of nerves, explosive in his starts, shaky as he goes on.

He stands in stark contrast to the main protagonist of the film, Togashi, who is a born talent. He's always been fast, and as a grade schooler, he's easily the fastest in his class (and even a threat to older, more experienced runners). Togashi's relationship to running is perhaps the purest, or at least easiest, because it comes so easily to him. He runs for the sake of pushing of himself, of being great, of feeling that vibrant sharpness that only comes when you're in the zone. For him, there's also an aspect of community, whether it's taking Komiya under his wing as kids, or helping to revive a track club at his high school. The way he navigates the world is a bit simpler, more straightforward, than a lot of the other characters in the movie, who seem to have more additional baggage slowing them down.

Which makes for a really compelling dynamic between Togashi and Komiya. It's like the Twelfth Night quote. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. The playing field might not be level from the start, but once the runners are positioned on their starting blocks, things become more fair.

As dense and heavy as I might be making 100 Meters sound, it is a movie that goes down so easy. The structure, with two time skips, makes it fly by. I was always excited to see where the characters had landed, how they would meet again, how their relationships to each other (and to running) had evolved.

The animation is jaw-droppingly gorgeous. It uses rotoscoping techniques to achieve astonishingly immediate and detailed movements in the characters. The way they shift and shuffle, and of course the way they run, all feels so grounded, true. Many of the characters' faces have severe lines and angles, enhancing and underlining the intensity of their pursuit, and their sport. And in the moments when the animation "breaks," whether it's the expressionistic POV shots as they run, or the lines going shaky to express inner emotional turmoil, the animation is flexible and fluid, bringing the internal realities of running into the physical expression of the chase. It's beautiful to behold.

The film also excels on the sound front. The sound effects match the same verisimilitude of the movements, especially the stampede of shoes hitting the track. And the score! Oh my god, this score. It's everything you want from the score of a sports movie -- propulsive, energetic, celebratory. It reminded me of the Challengers score at times, which is the highest praise I can give movie music. Huge props to composer Hiroaki Tsutsumi on his incredible work.

For me, 100 Meters has joined the pantheon of great sports movies, managing to accurately represent all of the multifarious dimensions of running. It's emotional, textured, and thrilling. And it made me want to go on a run.