Masamune’s small town is trapped in time by a steelworks factory explosion that has sealed it from the outside world. The adults believe the solution is to live a quiet, obedient life day in day out, but the teenagers’ big feelings threaten the status quo, especially when Masamune meets a strange girl…
Maboroshi has an ambitious premise and unfortunately it doesn’t get off to a strong start, seemingly meandering through Masamune’s daily life. We see the reckless games he plays with his male friends and the self-monitoring report he fails to hand into his school but the significance of these actions isn’t gripping enough for its later payoff.
The narrative picks up the pace a little as Masamune begins to interact with Atsumi, a classmate who introduces him to a feral girl she found in the steelworks and began caring for. The girl, who Masamune names Itsumi, behaves with all the carefree abandon of a toddler or wild animal which is really fun to watch as well as setting up some important narrative questions as to who she is and how she’ll impact Masamune and the others.
The innocence of first teen love cannot be repressed, and as a classmate declares her feelings for Masamune, her decision to break the status quo causes her to disappear. This is just one of many plot aspects I found a bit muddled as Masamune also develops feelings for Atsumi and this doesn’t seem to put him at risk, even when they kiss.
Although the Masamune/Atsumi/Itsumi dynamic is messily realised, not only for his journey from hating to loving Atsumi but also for other reasons I won’t spoil, it does set up the film for a hefty dose of existential questioning which I was pleasantly surprised by going into the second act of the film.
Despite Maboroshi‘s clumsy world building and narrative pacing, it infuses enough angst into its teens that you care what happens to them. Teenagers are old enough to ask the big questions for the first time like ‘What does it mean to feel alive?’, ‘What is the purpose of life?’ and ‘How do I derive meaning from life?’, so for this science fantasy to place them in a situation that’s already draining that power from them is interesting to watch.
The film’s premise also works nicely as a metaphor for escaping depression or any other rigid societal expectations preventing individuals from reaching joy and their true selves, and Itsumi is a perfect concise representation of this freedom as she dances, hugs and feasts on food freely, savouring every beat of her life. I wish Maboroshi had honed in more on this and other types of connection rather than the more cliché teen love stories as a vehicle for what it means to be alive.
In spite of some clumsily executed conceits, Maboroshi overflows with vitality as it asserts that love propels and transcends time and is the force that creates meaning and joy in our lives. I’m interested to see what Mari Okada does next and I highly recommend her other work, Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms.
Maboroshi is now available on Netflix.
Otaku Brit (^.^) 