Award-winning director Naoko Yamada returns to the big screen with The Colors Within, winner of the Best Animation Film Award at the 26th Shanghai International Film Festival. Set to release in TGV cinemas on November 21, 2024, this latest offering from Science SARU weaves a delicate tale of music, friendship, and the invisible bonds that connect us. This review examines how the ambitious collaboration between Science SARU’s animation prowess, Naoko Yamada’s direction, Reiko Yoshida’s screenplay, and Kensuke Ushio’s musical composition comes together.

While the film may not fully match the emotional depths of Yamada’s previous works like A Silent Voice, it delivers a uniquely introspective experience that balances stunning visuals with gentle storytelling, even as it grapples with narrative pacing.

Plot and Storytelling

The film follows Totsuko Higurashi, a high school student with an extraordinary ability to perceive the “colors” or auras of those around her. Her life takes an unexpected turn when she encounters Kimi during a dodgeball game, whose color captivates her like none before. Along with Rui, a passionate music enthusiast, the trio forms a band, practicing in an old church as their relationships deepen through shared melodies.

While the narrative occasionally struggles with pacing issues, particularly in establishing the band’s formation and chemistry, the film shines through its musical elements. The storyline, though sometimes lacking clear structure, effectively captures the slice-of-life genre’s essence. Standout tracks like “Amen, I’m Going Somewhere,” “Walk,” and “Apology Letter: The True, The Good, The Beautiful” serve as powerful vessels for the characters’ emotional expression.

Visual Direction

The film’s visual presentation stands as its most compelling feature, showcasing a masterful use of color and composition. The animation employs a lighter pastel palette that draws comparisons to A Silent Voice and Liz and the Blue Bird, while maintaining its own distinct identity. Rather than adopting Science SARU’s typical aesthetic or Masaaki Yuasa’s style, the character designs align closely with Yamada’s previous works, alleviating fans’ concerns about potential departures from her signature look.

Yamada’s directorial touches are present throughout, particularly in her use of leg shots to convey emotional states and the thoughtful incorporation of background characters in transition scenes. These transitions capture slice-of-life moments, from people interacting with cats to everyday customer service interactions. The film also makes effective use of static shots featuring still life and empty buildings during dialogue, creating a rich visual tapestry that perfectly complements its themes of color perception and self-discovery.

Character Development

The film introduces three distinct personalities in Totsuko, Kimi, and Rui, each hiding personal truths while pursuing their musical passions. Although Totsuko’s ability to see colors serves as the narrative lens, the most significant character development occurs through Rui and Kimi as they navigate family expectations while expressing themselves through music. Their struggles feel genuinely relatable, particularly in how they balance their artistic aspirations with family relationships.

Totsuko Higurashi, the protagonist, offers viewers a unique perspective through her ability to see others’ colors. While her supernatural gift drives the initial narrative, her character serves more as a window into the lives and development of her bandmates rather than experiencing significant personal growth herself. Her fascination with Kimi’s colors acts as the catalyst that brings the trio together, but her own journey takes a backseat to her observations of others.

Verdict

Despite some structural narrative challenges that may leave viewers occasionally disoriented, The Colors Within leaves a lasting impression through its masterful blend of visual artistry, emotive music, and contemplative storytelling. The film demonstrates Yamada’s continued evolution as a director while maintaining the gentle, introspective touch that has defined her work. Though it might not reach the heights of Yamada’s previous masterpieces, it succeeds in creating a warm, reflective experience that lingers in viewers’ minds long after the credits roll. It’s a film best experienced in theaters, where its visual and auditory artistry can be fully appreciated.