The narrative begins with Kayoko's carefree and playful life, which is soon overshadowed by the grim realities of war. The initial scenes depict her joyous interactions with family and friends, painting a picture of innocence and normalcy. However, this tranquility is disrupted by the Tokyo air raids, which bring devastation and chaos, capturing the struggle for survival and the acute pain of loss as Kayoko's family is torn apart. These sequences are particularly effective in showing the stark contrast between the innocence of childhood and the horrors of war, making the impact of the conflict deeply personal and relatable.
Early, characters express strong nationalistic sentiments, with lines like, 'Don't worry. Japan is God's country' and 'The emperor is here. There is no possibility that Japan will lose'. These expressions of unwavering belief in Japan's invincibility are starkly contrasted by the harsh realities of war that follow. This misplaced faith is a recurring motif, highlighting how nationalism and pride can blind individuals to the impending dangers and consequences of conflict.
A notable moment is when Kayoko and her family are compelled to donate their personal belongings to the military to be recycled into weapons. Kayoko gives away her cherished doll to be turned into explosives, believing it will serve the country for the greater good. The loss of her doll is a symbol of act of sacrifice underscoring the heavy burden nationalism places on individuals, particularly children.
Contrasting this is a scene that underscores the confusion and innocence of children in understanding political complexities. In a touching farewell, Kayoko begins to sing a song to her family and classmates, unaware that it is an American song. Her classmates whisper, 'Didn't our teacher say we couldn't sing this song?' Feeling embarrassed, Kayoko awkwardly stops, but then her mother starts to sing along, encouraging her to resume. This support brings a smile to Kayoko's face, and she resumes singing joyfully, highlighting the innocence of childhood amidst wartime prejudice.
Aftermath, defeated, humiliated, traumatised, Kayoko wanders near her now-destroyed town. Before her lies a scene of despair and misery: Gaunt children desperately peddling tobacco on the once vibrant streets, a fleeing thief knocks her to the ground in a frantic scramble for whatever scraps remain, and lamentably, a boy who resembles her missing older brother polishes an American soldier's boots. This hopeless view leaves her appalled and devastated—a cruel reality check illustrating the profound personal impact of war and defeat.
The direction by Seiji Arihara effectively evokes strong emotions and conveys profound messages about the impact of nationalism and the harsh realities of war. The storytelling, combined with detailed animation and evocative sound design, created a deeply immersive experience. The contrast between the colourful, lively world of Kayoko's early childhood and the bleak, war-torn landscape that follows is striking, reinforcing the film's climax. The portrayal of Kayoko's gradual loss of innocence and her ultimate resilience is both heartbreaking and inspiring. Her journey is a microcosm of the larger national experience, reflecting the Japan's collective trauma and the enduring hope for a better future.
For those interested in similar World War II dramas by the same director, I recommend Hi no Ame ga Furu (Rain of Fire) and Raiyantsuuri no Uta (Song of Raiyantsuuri). The former critiques military censorship aimed at maintaining citizen morale, leading to collective overconfidence and negligence in safety during war. The latter shows a touching bond between a Chinese forced laborer escapee in Hokkaido and a mute young Japanese girl, highlighting inhumane discrimination and a deep sense of nostalgia for home and family, further demonstrating Arihara's skills to create deeply moving, historically grounded anime.
