She’s had to cook and clean and clothe them for years, support and care for them with no-one to support and care for herself, and to love them unconditionally alone unfalteringly. The oldest of four siblings, she’s had to play the role of her absent mother for who knows how long. The bully is seen holding what we must assume are her three younger brothers, accompanied by an older man we must assume is her father – or maybe her grandfather.Īnd now everything makes sense. Guilt, envy or just plain cruelty, it doesn’t really matter why because there’s no excusing her behaviour – but there might be an explanation.Īnd we get it when we see her during the fireworks. She’s manipulative, she’s mean, she thinks little of anyone but herself – she’s a nasty sort who seems intent to drive a wedge between Nishimiya and Ishida for little reason. One of the first to turn on Nishimiya in elementary school (and one of the bullies to leave Ishida out to dry), she’s only shown to get worse as she gets older. These shots don’t linger they last for all of three seconds, giving you enough time to recognise the character and where they’re watching from. We see the secondary characters silhouetted against the explosions as they watch the lights, still save the explosions against the night sky. The shot in question occurs during the fireworks scene toward the end – if you’ve watched the film you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. And despite only being a couple of seconds long, I noticed it and drew all these conclusions in real-time – something I’m rather proud of, so this post is also me allowing myself some self-indulgence. It’s only a single shot, but it acts a microcosm of the film’s quality and everything it stands for. There’s so much I could talk about here – it was a wonderful day and the film is so precisely tailored to my tastes that I’m certainly not lacking in material – but there’s one thing right near the end that I feel I have to discuss. Recalling a moment of submersion, and how enveloping that scene felt, still sends shivers down my spine. It was a tremendously intimate experience the small, serious theatre brought me closer to the film and helped frame its artistry, and the immersion was enhanced by the superb sound. The audience watched with rapt attention in respectful silence (I imagine this was in part due to the film demanding it and in part an effect of the environment), allowing the sensitivity of the story to come through without distraction. Moving and sublime, it was everything I hoped it would be and more.
That would make the occasion memorable enough by itself, but the film truly was the star of the day. I went with my good friend processr, meeting up with Thaliarchus before the film and buildknuckle afterwards – my first time meeting anitwitterers!
It was quite the little event – it was one of the first showings outside of Japan, as part of a Japanese film tour, in a small arthouse cinema in London.
I had the good fortune getting to watch A Silent Voice in the cinema this year.
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