limitless, ambitious, messy storytelling
Suzume (2022): when a door opens, close it
As a longtime Pixar fan, I have always strongly objected to their movies being called formulaic. Even the sequels contain an element of surprise and are original. After watching Makoto Shinkai's Suzume, I have to agree with most critics that Pixar's stories can be formulaic. It's a formula they've perfected, but one that can become rote, stale.
I remember when people grimly predicted that Pixar would fail without John Lasseter, as if he wasn’t ousted for being a sex pest. He also directed the first two Cars movies which have always been unpopular and later we learned that he’d meddled in other directors’ movies at Disney Animation. I was hopeful for the studio’s future with Pete Docter as the new Chief Creative Officer. While Docter isn’t to blame for the recent turmoil at Pixar, the studio is overly reliant on him.
One source says the studio leans on Docter to an “unhealthy degree,” and it’s, partially, what leads to a situation like the crunch on Inside Out 2.
“You cannot do anything without Pete. Literally nothing,” one former employee says. “And that creates a bottleneck.”
For many, it’s also a symbol of Pixar holding fast to an internal culture that’s stubbornly set in its ways, with an aversion to bringing on new directors and voices.
You see, they were supposed to move past this! I thought the Brain Trust was no longer occupying a pedestal.
The well being of Pixar’s employees should be the studio’s priority, not risk taking in their films. Maybe in the future they won’t be so risk averse? When Suzume ended, I found myself wishing for Pixar to make a film like it. Not in the same genre or with the same plot, but with the same risk.
Sometimes, risks don't pay off. They don't entirely work in Suzume. While the end result is imperfect and messy, it is also a lot more interesting and unpredictable.
A girl, a boy, and a door
Suzume is a 17 year old student who lives with her aunt Tamaki. On her way to school one bright morning, she sees a young man and is instantly captivated by him. He feels familiar to her, but she can't quite pinpoint where she knows him from, or how. He asks her if she knows of any ruins nearby and she directs him to an abandoned spa resort, and then continues on her way to school. On impulse she turns back and goes to the ruins herself. Within that cavernous space, there is a door. It is somehow standing upright in a shallow pool of water. Suzume opens the door, and before her eyes is a spectacular sight: a field beneath a starry purple sky. She stares in rapt wonder and tries to enter, but cannot. A cat statue next to the door turns into a real cat when she picks it up. Frightened, she runs away just like the cat does.
At school later, Suzume is the only one who can see the smoke — a vast spiral undulating across the pristine sky. It's coming from the direction of the resort ruins. Soon everyone's phones begin chiming with alerts of an earthquake. Suzume returns to the ruins where she finds the young man from earlier struggling to close that strange door on a massive crimson cyclone. Together they manage to lock it inside.
The young man's name is Souta. Suzume brings him to her house over his protests to bandage his wounds. He explains to Suzume that the cyclone is a worm, in Japanese a Namazu (much more impressive sounding), an underground entity that causes earthquakes and other natural disasters. Souta is a closer, tasked with closing doors inside ruins to prevent the creature from destroying Japan. The stone that became a real cat was a keystone, a seal against the worm. And the cat has appeared at Suzume's window, and after a cryptic remark, turns Souta into a yellow, three legged chair.
That Darn Cat
The cat sprints away, and ungainly, wobbly Souta is in hot pursuit, with Suzume following. Not only does Souta need to be changed back, the cat also needs to return to its post. The cat has no interest in doing either. It is having too much fun leading the two on a wild chase on sea and land, and enchants the locals, who post him all over social media and affectionately nickname him Daijin.
While Suzume and Souta hunt Daijin all through Japan, her aunt is frantic with worry. Suzume continually blows her off in her texts. Her aunt is mainly concerned about her being with a guy, and she's clearly imagining the worst. Suzume ignores Souta too when he urges her to return home. Despite the peril, she's invigorated by the adventure.
Along the way, she befriends Chika, a young girl whose home she and Souta spend the night in, and Rumi, a bar hostess with two children that Suzume babysits (an arduous task).
Daijin continuously evades capture, trickster god in excellent feline form. He informs them of other portals opening up and unleashing the worm, always with a mischievous lilt to his voice. Because Souta can no longer close the doors, the task now falls to Suzume. At an abandoned theme park and school, Souta instructs her to listen to these places: they conjure the voices and laughter of all those who once passed through them. As Suzume struggles with the portal on a ferris wheel, she sees that starry sky from before. The sight hypnotizes her. This time she's able to enter, with Souta desperately yelling that she's in a ferris wheel and to not continue walking, else she'll plunge to the ground. This is the ever after, where souls go after they die.
Daijin has also revealed to Souta that he is now the keystone. Suzume is wretched with grief as she uses him to contain the worm, thus saving countless other lives. Of course, she can't just leave things the way they are. She will rescue him from this fate, even if it's impossible, because the world without Souta is unbearable.
Road Trip
Suzume and Souta had traveled by boat, train, and car to the different portals. Now Suzume has to embark on a solo journey to bring him back to his human form, based on instructions from his grandfather (Souta is descended from a long line of closers). She’ll have to return to her childhood home to find the door housing the ever after. Because as it turns out, she has been there before.
Suzume however does have company. Souta's friend Tomoya offers to drive her, since he's looking for Souta, who owes him money. But it's precisely while the two are talking that Aunt Tamaki appears, overcome with relief and emotion (tinged with wariness at the sight of the young man) when she lays eyes on her niece. She demands that Suzume return home with her, but Suzume jumps into Tomoya's car, and Tamaki follows.
Tamaki sits up front with Tomoya with Suzume and Daijin in the backseat. Suzume maintains a moody silence. After he narrowly avoids a truck on the road, Tomoya’s car swerves into a pond. Suzume and her aunt make the rest of the trip on bicycle.
Time Slip
Souta's grandfather instructs Suzume how to reach the ever after. Her dream at the film's beginning alluded to it. She goes off in search of the door from her childhood, in Tohoku which was devastated by the 2011 earthquake. The earthquake also claimed her mother's life. She was just a child, abandoned and searching for her mother in the ruins of their neighborhood. Suzume comforts her child self.
"Right now, things are really tough, but I'll tell you a secret. They won't always be that way. So don't worry, okay? The future's not that scary. There will be so many people in your life who will love you, and you'll even fall in love with someone yourself one day. The night might seem endless right now, but I promise, the morning will come again."
I was instantly reminded of Park Bo Young’s acceptance speech for Best Actress at the Blue Dragon Series Awards. The award was for her performance in Daily Dose of Sunshine, a k-drama depicting life in a psychiatric ward. In the first episode, a character asks if morning will come for them too (alluding to the literal Korean title, Morning Comes to the Mental Ward). In her speech, Bo Young said:
"If you are having a very dark and long night, I hope you don't get tired and hang in there until the end and welcome the morning."
Life can be brighter when the darkness passes. Suzume assures her younger self that she will be basking in that light.
That's where I'll leave the plot. It's all very complex and nothing is straightforward, but it's not challenging to follow along. It only seems so because of the epic proportions, the worm's massive shape blotting out the landscape, its tendrils shooting electric sparks. Suzume feels self-indulgent almost, a passion project where anything goes. I have to commend that, despite how cluttered the story feels.
Where it differs from most mainstream animated films are the extended sequences that have no relevance to the plot. Chika cheerily recounting her boy troubles or Rumi recruiting Suzume to help out at her bar didn't need to be included. But their existence makes the film feel a lot richer; as if these characters are still important regardless of their contributions. They help Suzume as kind strangers do. And we are aided by nameless strangers in our own lives. Like the spirits of those people Suzume heard in the abandoned places, Chika, Rumi, and Rumi’s children all existed too. Hopefully they'll be remembered long after they're gone.
Another notable difference is Tamaki playing an active role. I think another film would keep her in the background. Shinkai’s stated goal was to make a film about mourning deserted places. Places can be abandoned, but people shouldn’t be.
I also loved how random it was. Tomoya is the one who owes Souta money, though he says otherwise. His sports car is sleek but the sunroof doesn't close all the way and the passenger side door actually falls off. He's jolly on the car ride despite the tension between Suzume and Tamaki, singing his favorite songs, choosing ones that match the mood. I'm obsessed with him!
These disparate elements come together to make a film that is breathless in scope but still thoughtful and even silly.
However, other disparate pieces don’t quite fit in this zany puzzle.
Tamaki has a bizarre outburst blaming Suzume for all the sacrifices she’s made. She was possessed by a spirit (another keystone cat, a bigger black one). The two reconcile but this moment is just out of left field. I don’t think it adds any real weight. When the two set off for Tohoku on bicycle, it’s enough that Tamaki doesn’t understand but still wants to accompany her niece anyway. Her long buried resentment is superfluous.
I also didn’t find the romance very convincing. I was left wondering why Suzume felt she couldn't live without Souta. One of the protagonists turning into a charmingly animated chair was worth the risk but their relationship should've stayed platonic. Especially since Suzume's past self receives closure and her feelings for Souta didn't impact that at all.
The message Suzume gives to her child self is so beautiful and good, even if there isn't a thematic link to anything from earlier. A Pixar script would be a lot tighter here. I think there should've been more emphasis on Suzume's own connection to an abandoned place and the tragedy there, and not simply a fleeting dream sequence at the beginning.
While the story is messy the visuals aren't. The camera movements are fluid, similar to a live action film. The colors sparkle and there's a shimmer and iridescence to buildings, vehicles, sunlight, water.
This is Shinkai’s third film after Your Name. (2016) and Weathering With You (2019) inspired by the Great East Japan Earthquake, or 3.11. Suzume directly references it, as the main character actually survived the disaster. The destruction was total. Sometimes these catastrophes fade from our memories. But Shinkai doesn't want us to forget.
The natural disaster as backdrop in a fairy tale is a brilliant concept. Suzume is a fairy tale, one that seamlessly integrates technology into its lore. Ancient and modern rituals are situated alongside each other, and both are necessary. The world changes, is constantly speeding up, sometimes we feel like we're falling behind. But grief, loss, hope and love are eternal. Centuries may separate us, but we will always have this in common with our ancestors.
“We know this life is fragile and death is always near. But even if it’s just for one more moment, we still want to live.”