Annecy Review: A New Dawn, appropriately, is a firework of a movie

It feels right that A New Dawn, the feature directorial debut of Yoshitoshi Shinomiya, feels like a firework in movie form. It's brief (clocking in at 76 minutes), bright, and full of energy. The wow factor is high, the emotional impact indelible. It's a propulsive movie, almost dizzyingly so, to a breathtaking degree. It's a rush that might not be for everyone, but it certainly was for me.

We meet brothers Keitaro and Chicchi, and their lifelong friend Kaoru, in their small town in Kanagawa prefecture, which teeters on the brink of drastic transformation. The three of them have worked alongside the brothers' father at his firework company, which has existed for hundreds of years and is descended from pirates. Their fireworks are the core of the town's festivals, but they've fallen out of fashion, Furthermore, a project to bring a major road and other infrastructural changes to the region mean the factory is due to be shut down. 

So, these three young characters, on the verge of adulthood, are faced with the place they call home being swept out right from under them as they take their first steps toward independence. It's like the bird being pushed out of the nest, then watching the nest fall apart as they hurdle toward the ground. Nowhere to go back to.

Only, the change doesn't happen so suddenly.

Cut to four years later, and we find the characters in drastically different living circumstances. Kaoru lives in Tokyo, where she helps plan festivals using complex light projections. Chicchi has become a local official in their hometown, attempting to preserve what he can. And Keitaro still lives in that ramshackle house among the detritus of the past. Their father has vanished, leaving them with the story of a firework called the Shuhari that, if constructed properly, could have the power to change minds and save the region from the forced forward progress toward solar panels and highways. If only they could figure out how to make it.

Chicchi collects Kaoru from Tokyo, enlisting her to help him get Keitaro out of the house. The next day, fifty people from various branches of the local government are planning to show up to forcefully evict him, and to start tearing the house down. Kaoru begrudgingly agrees, but ends up getting swept up in Keitaro's plan to set off the Shuhari, in the hopes it might bring back the town's glorious, firework-lit past, and maybe stop all of the new construction in its tracks. It's worth a shot.

It's a small story, very specific and localized. There aren't a bunch of big set piece moments, no shocking twists. That smallness makes the emotional punch all the stronger, and stranger. There were a couple times I found myself crying without really being able to say why. For sure, the wistfulness of it all is part of it. I'm a sucker for a story about the past coming to a close, whatever that looks like. The kind of coming-of-age, end-of-an-era thing, always a great way to get my tear ducts working. 

I think, too, that there's something so special about being dropped into a story like this. The film is thrumming with energy, light, movement. The animation is jaw-dropping, just stunning, and we really hit the ground running. We don't get a lot of time to orient ourselves, a lot of backstory is alluded to without being fully fleshed out, our time with these characters is so short. It really feels like a gift, a glimpse into a world that we'll soon be pulled out of, so every second is precious. Every moment counts.

Also, it must be said: A New Dawn is just fucking cool. The energy, the animation, the score -- which pops in and out with unexpected sounds and feelings -- this movie has it, whatever it is. Even the way the different chapter titles are dropped in, this movie is such a vibe. 

Shining fast and bright, I can certainly imagine A New Dawn not working for everyone. In such a short span of time, it's not necessarily an easy movie to latch onto. The wavelength may prove elusive. But for those who manage to get into it, it's a bright, beautiful thing, popping with energy and emotion, packing a powerful emotional punch. Some of the places we love can't stick around forever, but hopefully they can all go out with a bang.