"Look Back" Review: A Bittersweet Masterpiece about the Shifting Natures of Friendship and Artistry
Look Back, an adaptation of Tatsuki Fujimoto’s manga of the same name and directed by Kiyotaka Oshiyama, is bookended by the phenomenal visual of protagonist Fujino with her back facing the camera as she buries herself in her art. This film excellently explores the pursuit of artistry and the connections that come with it. // Image: GKIDS
As the pen hits the page and the abstract images from your mind somehow transform into physical reality, everything else evaporates. Just as in Look Back’s reoccurring image of Fujino having her back to the door as she hunches over her desk, any creative has found themselves fully absorbed in their craft, wanting to realize whatever vision is trapped in their minds, waiting to be released to the world. Whether you’re a writer, an artist, a musician, or just someone that puts their all into what they care about, you can immediately relate to the feeling elicited by Look Back’s opening shot.
GKIDS’ portfolio of animated films throughout 2024 has been incredibly impressive. Films such as Sirocco and the Kingdom of the Winds, Mars Express, and The Boy and the Heron are exactly the types of animation that the world needs more of, and it’s refreshing to see GKIDS distribute and give visibility to such expressive works of art. Look Back, directed by Kiyotaka Oshiyama, is an adaptation of Tatsuki Fujimoto’s manga of the same name and is GKIDS’ latest theatrical release. While Look Back had made its western debut at film festivals earlier in the year, GKIDS’ most recent distribution saw a limited release of Look Back in theaters across the United States.
I support GKIDS’ releases as much as I can - even for their limited releases that only screen one or two nights - to support the animation and films that I value getting a chance to be distributed to audiences around the world. The moment I stepped in the theater for Look Back, I was immediately struck by the sheer size of the audience. Keep in mind that I see three to four movies in theaters every week - it’s rare that I find myself in a theater as packed as my screening for Look Back. Having no prior knowledge of the source material nor Fujimoto'-san’s more popular works (including Fire Punch and Chainsaw Man), I walked into Look Back as I do with most films - with an open mind and open heart to see what emotional journey it could take me on.
If the audience size and GKIDS’ impressive track record of releases over the last year weren’t already dead giveaways, I was in for something truly special with Look Back. Not only did I find myself entranced by the film’s incredible depiction of the complex, ever-shifting nature of friendship and artistry, but I also very well may have found GKIDS’ best release and one of the greatest animated films ever made. Look Back is a love letter to anyone that’s ever pursued a creative endeavor - but perhaps more powerfully, it’s also an emotionally intelligent exploration of how friendship, creativity, and regret all go hand-in-hand. I was mesmerized by Look Back and need to talk about why this film is an emotional masterpiece that deserves to be seen by as wide of an audience as possible and to be understood as a modern classic.
Much like any artistic process, the path towards making a friend isn’t a linear or clean path. Fujino first meets Kyomoto under the pretense of being an artistic rival prompting her to temporarily quit. Their relationship blossoms as they get to know each other in a manner that’s both heartful, realistic, and emotionally devastating. // Image: GKIDS
As we linger on an opening shot of Fujino with her back turned towards the audience, we eventually see the product of her work - a brief, comedic manga panel in a unique animated style briefly plays that immediately convinces us that Fujino is as talented as she is creative. When we follow her to elementary school, she gets showered with praise from her peers for her impressive skills at her young age. The jubilation of praise is abruptly cut short when the school newspaper is handed out to the class and Fujino sees the newspaper’s selected manga panel - not hers, but rather that of a younger student’s work. Everyone suddenly begins praising the work of Kyomoto, the manga’s author, resulting in some of Fujino’s friends to claim that Kyomoto’s work makes Fujino’s manga panels look plain by comparison. This instantly gives Fujino pause as the world around her starts to shift, with a masterful shot of her classroom growing bigger and bigger until it has hundreds of desks in it that highlights how little she feels in that moment. While she was considered a prodigy of manga writing mere moments ago, Fujino suddenly has to prove herself by refining her art to be better than Kyomoto’s - a student that doesn’t even go to school most days.
Like Fujino herself, the audience has no idea who Kyomoto is nor what her perspective is. Fujino’s relationship with Kyomoto is an entirely adversarial one, but it has also helped motivate her to becoming a better artist. Competition has driven Fujino to prove herself, but this drive to enhance her artistic prowess also negatively affects her life. Fujino was once surrounded by friends that praised her art, but as she delves further and further into honing her craft, she’s pushed away the connections that she has with others. We see particular scenes where Fujino is drawing in her classroom alone, with other students not bothering to invite her to social outings because they know she cares more about art than hanging out with friends. In the pursuit of being the best artist at her school, Fujino has abandoned other aspects of her life that have pushed her towards isolation. A time lapse scene illustrates this beautifully as we see Fujino’s back turned to the camera once more as she hunches over her desk throughout the seasons. Throughout this sequence, Fujino’s room becomes filled with art to the point where it convinces the audience that this truly is all she does. We’re convinced just how much Fujino’s quest to being the best artist in her school means to her, including an understanding that she’s equally willing to sacrifice her social life at such a young age to do this.
Despite the time that she invests into her art as the year passes, though, the school newspaper still features Kyomoto’s manga instead of Fujino’s. It’s in this moment that Fujino admits defeat and quits working on her art. The scene where Fujino admits defeat is as comedic as it is defeating. The audience has seen just how much Fujino has put on the line throughout the past year - we know how much she cares about art, and to still get passed up in favor of Kyomoto…it makes the audience begin to resent her just as much as Fujino does. In truth, though, neither the audience nor Fujino know anything about Kyomoto, and yet Fujino’s relationship with her artistry is one that informs a resentment towards and a wish to be better than other artists - Fujino’s “competitors”, in her mind. Some time later, though, Fujino is tasked by one of her teachers to deliver Kyomoto’s diploma to her. Fujino is instantly resistant towards doing it - not only does she not personally know Kyomoto, but she’s the very reason why Fujino decided to quit a major passion of hers. She’s ultimately convinced to go through with the delivery, though, and this single decision drastically changes Fujino’s relationship with Kyomoto and her artistry at large.
Fujino awkwardly stumbles into Kyomoto’s empty house before discovering the mountain of notebooks outside Kyomoto’s room. She appears to be cooped up in her room, and yet Fujino feels compelled to make a drawing for Fujino. We see four comedic manga panels that illustrate a war between either opening the door or not opening the door, with the punchline being that Kyomoto, the person behind the door, is a pile of bones. Fujino questions why she’s even making the drawing in the first place as the panel slips between her fingers and flies under the door to Kyomoto’s room. In a fit of embarassment, Fujino leaves the house before being chased after by Kyomoto. On a rainy day in front of Kyomoto’s house, the two girls finally meet. Since the audience has been following Fujino’s perspective, so too does the audience share Fujino’s sentiment towards Kyomoto - a younger artist that’s more talented and seen as the enemy that bested Fujino at creating art. As soon as Kyomoto begins speaking, though, that narrative quickly crumbles.
Kyomoto immediately expresses how much she has loved Fujino’s manga panels and even asks for a signature. Fujino’s narrative towards Kyomoto is one that’s shifted from animosity to indifference as she’s taken aback by Kyomoto’s timid but genuine personality. Kyomoto’s praise and admiration of Fujino is as surprising as it is eye-opening. The narrative we’ve built up about Kyomoto alongside Fujino is one that, we now see, couldn’t be further from reality. Kyomoto even longs to see Fujino return to drawing again. Shortly after, the two girls begin working together on a manga for a competition and learn that they’re strengths complement each other. Kyomoto excels in background art whereas Fujino specializes in detailed characters and foregrounds.
What was once an antagonistic relationship has now blossomed into one of collaboration and friendship. Indeed, the two girls spend a lot of time in Fujino’s room as they draw together. As the two girls grow older, their bond deepens and continues to shift. We see this passage of time through a beautiful montage where we see the development of Fujino and Kyomoto’s friendship. Their personalities and artistic strengths differ from each other, yet also help strengthen one another in a way that’s believable and heartwarming to see, especially from Kyomoto’s perspective. We see just how shy of a person Kyomoto is - she often lacks the confidence to have basic conversations with other characters. And yet, we learn that Fujino is the very person responsible for Kyomoto wanting to take larger, more courageous steps in her life.
What helps this montage is the incredible art direction for the film. Look Back is visually striking through the use of a consistently warm color palette mixed with Fujimoto-san’s distinctive art style. Character’s eyes, in particular, are an instantly recognizable part of Fujimoto-san’s style, and this film captures that visual flair that helps preserve the style of the manga while making it consistently compelling to look at as an anime. The pace of the animation, itself, also helps manage the tone of the film. From an over-the-top skipping animation that’s timed perfectly for comedic effect to the lack of movement when we see Fujino and Kyomoto drawing, the degree of movement in Look Back balances its playful moments with its melancholic ones. In an incredible attention to detail, the visual elements even mirror our two characters’ strengths, with the backgrounds having a distinct visual identity in comparison to that of the characters and details of the foreground.
What helps drive Look Back into being an incredibly emotional and heartful look at this coming-of-age story for Fujino and Kyomoto is haruka nakamura’s [sic] audibly understated, melancholic score. In a post-screening Q&A, director Oshiyama describes haruka nakamura’s soundtrack for the film as being one that doesn’t feel too grand nor too small. Indeed, Look Back’s soundtrack has swelling strings that don’t overpower the emotion being conveyed in the film, but rather, help capture and cement the nostalgic bliss of youth that we see exhibited by Fujino and Kyomoto. haruka nakamura’s music evokes a warm yet bittersweet fondness for what once was, elevating emotional moments into feeling as powerful as they are meaningful between our two lead characters. Indeed, Look Back features one of the best film soundtracks in recent memory - certainly the best one of the year.
Look Back features extremely vivid, saturated imagery that blends with a soothing, melancholic soundtrack that thoroughly explores the tender, emotional journey of Fujino. The result is an unforgettable viewing experience. // Image: GKIDS
As our characters continue to grow, so too do their relationships with each other and with art itself. Kyomoto confesses to Fujino one day that she wants to go to university for art, while Fujino wants to head straight into her career of being a mangaka. It’s through this conversation that we see how much Fujino’s feelings towards Kyomoto have shifted. While Kyomoto was once a friend first and a collaborator second, Fujino now sees Kyomoto as someone that shouldn’t bother to go to art university. Kyomoto wants to develop her skills as an artist through a formal education, but instead of supporting her friend’s decision, Fujino projects a cynical worldview onto Kyomoto. Even if Kyomoto goes to art school, Fujino argues, that won’t make it easier for her to find work. It’s clear that Fujino has taken her friend for granted, and this difference of opinion between the two elevates itself into being something of a betrayal to Fujino from her perspective.
Now that she’s nearly an adult, Fujino views her art as a profession that she needs to continue to work towards - an education seems like a waste of time. Moreover, the loss of Kyomoto as a collaborator is more of an inconvenience than a heartbreaking loss to Fujino - she chooses to simply get a replacement assistant for background art. The conversation between the two girls turns into an argument where Fujino claims that Kyomoto won’t even succeed in university because of how timid she is. Despite Kyomoto claiming that she’s determined to become more confident, Fujino discards the feelings of her friend.
Fujino has essentially become a colder, overly practical person that has changed her perspective on her art and her friend because she feels that she has needed to. From Fujino’s perspective, being an artist inevitably brings with it sacrifices that must be made. Fujino and Kyomoto separate as life takes them in two different directions. We follow Fujino’s perspective as she continues to grow as a mangaka, releasing various volumes of manga and being a visibly successful artist, if one that’s overburdened by the amount of work placed upon her.
The final act of Look Back is one that brings heartbreak to Fujino as she grieves through a tragedy that makes her reflect on the choices that she made throughout her friendship with Kyomoto. She becomes regretful for the decisions she has made throughout her life, specifically in regard to her art and with Kyomoto. She begins wondering “what if?” in relation to her entire life. If she had chosen to do things differently, maybe the tragedy that has befallen Fujino would have never happened. In what is one of the most emotional and human scenes in the film, we see a drastically different timeline unfold where Fujino doesn’t write the manga panel in front of Kyomoto’s room. Fujino and Kyomoto never become collaborators and they don’t meet each other until well into their adulthood. But such a fantasy is one that blinds Fujino from the reality that the connection that she shared with Kyomoto, while now feeling brief, was one that positively affected both of their lives. Fujino discovers that Kyomoto still supported Fujino’s art, even after their falling out. She still kept the signature that Fujino gave her on the day they met. As much as Fujino may want to wish that things had played out differently, that doesn’t change the fact that the memories that Fujino and Kyomoto shared were ones that enriched both of their lives.
While Fujino begins the film seeing Kyomoto as nothing than a faceless rival that needs to be beaten, the two girls become friends with each other through their shared love of art. While their direct friendship ended due to a disagreement on how one ought to invest in their artistry, Kyomoto’s continued effort to support Fujino proves that the connections we forge throughout our lives have rippling consequences, even when we can’t see them. Moreover, while Fujino appears to be in the throes of an unhappy adulthood where she struggles to remain enthusiastic about her art, she retains the willingness to continue creating thanks to the memories of Kyomoto enjoying the art they made together. The strength of Fujino’s connection, imperfect as it was, informs her connection to her art.
Like friendship, our commitment to artistry changes throughout our lives. What we create throughout our lives carries different meaning to us as we enter different phases in our lives. But deep connections not unlike the one shared between Fujino and Kyomoto are reminders that what we create has a profound effect on others and, in turn, ourselves. Kyomoto’s art had once motivated Fujino to improve. It also made her quit at one point. Fujino and Kyomoto’s collaborations brought joy to each other. For Fujino, their collabs kickstarted her professional career as an artist. The direction our lives go in is unclear much like how it’s impossible to know where a friendship will go when it starts. But as time goes on and we look back on our life or the friendships we had with others, we learn that how we navigated those friendships and how we navigated those difficult times in our lives in the past inform what kind of person we are in the present. Such is the revelation that Fujino has in the film’s climax.
Look Back is a tender, heartfelt exploration of how much can change in what feels like a short amount of time. So many aspects of our lives shift throughout time. What was once a rivalry eventually becomes a deep friendship. What was once a passion one does in their free time eventually becomes their career. Look Back is an excellent, bittersweet exploration of these shifts and how they inform the person we become. With tight pacing, visually gorgeous animation, a somber and nostalgic soundtrack, and an incredible mix of brevity and emotion, Look Back is a difficult movie to critique. It accomplishes everything that it sets out to do with such grace that it’s difficult to imagine how the film could be improved in any way. While the film is short, only clocking in at 58 minutes, the runtime squeezes in so much content that time washes by in the best way possible. The film doesn’t overstay its welcome and uses its runtime perfectly to tell the story it sets out to share.
Look Back is a reminder for how animation elevates emotional storytelling. Through pulsing music during the montages showing the passage of time and the quietude during the introspective moments of drawing and improving at one’s craft, Look Back features a confident yet grounded vivacity that tells a deeply human story in a remarkably vivid way. Look Back has cemented itself as one of my all-time favorite animated films thanks to its incredible dedication to telling a story about who and what we look to when deciding what direction for our lives to go in.
For me in this moment, that look is towards a future where I can convey stories as profound and meaningful as the one depicted here. Like Kyomoto was inspired by the manga of Fujino, I find myself galvanized by how masterfully Look Back recounts its emotional story and flawed yet perfectly believable characters. Look Back is a film I’m glad to have looked toward, and its one I wholeheartedly recommended any fan of emotional, meaningful storytelling look towards as well.
Final Grade: A+
Thank you very much for reading! What are your thoughts on Look Back? What are some of your favorite GKIDS releases? As always, join the conversation and let me know what you think in the comments, on Twitter/X @DerekExMachina, or on Bluesky @DerekExMachina.
