I became silent for a while after watching the last installment of Kara no Kyoukai (空の境界). Gazing at the screen in disbelief in some moments, shock and dismay in others and appreciation in still others, I began to wonder about a variety of things.
Having read the novel twice, I know the ending in the movie is happier. Despite of whatever happened, the movie managed to squeeze out a happy ending. Actually, I almost had the same critique for the novel, except the novel described an unavoidable loss; a much stronger displacement or blank where the male Shiki (織) once existed. That, and there is something about the current Shiki that Mikiya will never quite reach.
There is much blood and violence in the movie, not to mention one strongly sexually charged scene. It is nothing like erotism; it is rather like a scene of a butterfly or a certain prey struggling, as it is being overwhelmed and at the same time, strangely fascinated by its helplessness in facing a certain death.
Indeed, much blood is spilt, much like in John Woo films where much shell casings and sparks fly and bodies tangle in the dance of death. As the blades cross, bites and scratches each other, one wonders for the similarities and differences between Shiki and the anti-Shiki, the latter seeking to find a companion in the world; anyone would do; anyone would do? Right?
Being I, being a self-proclaimed Otaku (most likely just another geek in a geek culture), I struggled much as the antagonist had. Throughout the movie, the anti-Shiki seeks solace, seeks salvation of a sort by his effort of trying to find and to seduce Shiki and others to his side. It is his belief that Shiki can go back to the side that he believes he resides; it is his downfall that Shiki is no longer the same Shiki four years ago.
However, as perhaps only the audience could observe and be sure of, Shiki was not the person the anti-Shiki wanted to be with four years ago, and after everything that happened after that, Shiki became something closer to a sense of believed normality. The novel hints that the “believed-ness” but the movie forgoes the key conversation in favor of a gentler and loving ending. Perhaps to provide a crutch to people like me, who seeks normalcy in a world where the definition for it is becoming more and more blurred. But the fact remain is that I am still broken.
The novel seems to confirm that, as Shiki muses the lost of the male part of self and the conversation that affirms that musing. The movie doesn’t ignore it, but it is certainly portrayed in a more positive light. The male Shiki is the killer urge, thus as he is gone, it is better. But the loss is there. Both the novel and the movies come to terms with that fact, but somehow, I am slightly dissatisfied with the movies. However, with all the wonderful animation, superior voice acting, camera direction and music, the movies are masterpieces in emotional intensity and psychological searching in their own right.
