I saw Look Back today. It is now my favorite movie of 2024.

I still remember when I saw the preview for Look Back. I went to see Howl’s Moving Castle in theatres for the Studio Ghibli 2024 festival. I was impatient, in a hurry to see if Howl was as both charming and immature as I remembered. As such, I watched the previews halfheartedly. A comedy here, an action movie there, and then and suddenly, a trailer for an animated movie appeared.

A beautiful score caught my musician’s ear, and pulled my somewhat disinterested attention toward the screen and locked it in place. This was a movie I knew I had to pay attention to. The animation was smooth, it possessed so much character, the world was vibrant and colorful. I was introduced to our leads. Two main girls, who, though plain looking, expressed deep, tangible emotion in those few scenes they popped between throughout my short time with them. Needless to say, I was sold. I decided then that I would go see this movie. As if that wasn’t enough, it was footnoted with a familiar name: Tatsuki Fujimoto. I thought to myself “Wow, another work by Fujimoto-san? He just can’t stop winning.” Needless to say, from the moment I saw this preview until the time I sat back down in those theatre seats to enjoy it fully, I couldn’t forget about it. 

As a love letter to creatives, Look Back moved me immensely. Fujino was a wonderfully familiar Fujimoto character, her similarity in adult-appearance to Asa Mitaka from Chainsaw Man aside. This movie wasn’t just a story about two girls chasing the lofty, somewhat misunderstood dream of being a mangaka. It was about what it’s like to be a creative, to inhale inspiration, and exhale creation.

The unlikely journey we find Fujino on becomes our journey. We are all chasing a dream of being a mangaka and finding ourselves sharing in Fujino’s victories. We worked hard to create four panel manga and seek the approval of our classmates. When Fujino’s reign was challenged and subsequently toppled, we grinded our teeth with her. And soon, when we eventually allied with the individual she found herself at odds with, we cheered for the sake of companionship. Each scene was punctuated subtly with a score that contained only the essentials to convey the right emotions. It was incredibly profound in it’s careful construction. The piano being our main guide, followed by the strings that sang in it’s wake made this film truly unforgettable. I loved every moment of this movie.  

I would like to give particular focus to the end, where we look at Fujino’s relationship with the passing of Kyomoto and her simply getting back to making manga at the very end, back to doing what she’s always done. To some, the scene seems awfully mundane and possibly lacking when it comes to the emotional weight of Fujino and Kyomoto’s friendship, but I would argue that action itself is payoff. 

Fujino spends the last 20 or so minutes of the movie lamenting Kyomoto’s death, her guilt in Kyomoto’s fate, and a what-if scenario where they hadn’t met under the same circumstances as in reality. However, it’s her realization that they were perhaps fated to meet, and impact they’ve had on one another that ultimately changed her mind in the end. From the start, Fujino had so much of her drive bestowed upon her by Kyomoto as much as she gave to Kyomoto as well. I feel that this is one of the possible interpretations of Kyomoto’s final question of

“Why do you draw, Fujino?” 

Fujino admits that she doesn’t draw because she finds the process particularly fun. 

I think we all, as creatives can relate to this in some degree. But, the impact we make on others, where we can see our work, a small piece of our world, reach out and touch someone else enough to inspire them, that is what truly gives us the strength to go on. 

I still remember my first two comments on my first YouTube video. I remember thinking. 

“Woah, 230 views. This many people liked my stuff?” Followed by reading the only two comments on my video. 

They were something like:

“Aah! This is so good! I loved the sound effects!”

“I’m hoping for a part 2!” 

And that, alone was enough for me to set aside any feelings I had, any exhaustion I dealt with, any uncertainty in my mind about what I did. 

And to sit back at my notepad, or to get back behind the microphone. 

And create.