Suzume Film Review: A Fabulous Road Trip Through Fantasy, Grief and Memory

Around eight minutes into acclaimed director Makoto Shinkai’s latest film — he’s perhaps best known outside Japan for Your Name (2016) and Weathering With You (2019) — Suzume, the titular character exclaims “What the heck is going on!?” Understandably, because a lot has happened in these eight minutes. 

Suzume, a high-school student in Kyushu, wakes up from a dream in which she revisits a memory of herself desperately searching for her mother in the aftermath of the 2011 earthquake in Tohoku. On her way to school, she runs into a strange man, explores some ruins, opens a magical door, then later shuts and locks it with the help of the stranger she’d met earlier, and there’s also an artefact that Suzume has unwittingly helped escape through the door, which has now turned into a small white cat? And all this before the titles even roll.

Souta, the stranger Suzume met on her way to school, is a “Closer”, someone who travels the country looking for ruins containing supernatural gates. Gates are places where energy worms release, causing Japan’s frequent and disastrous earthquakes. While he’s explaining this to Suzume and preparing himself to go find the next gate, the cat appears and fuses Souta into the small yellow chair he’s sitting on — one that happens to be a memento from Suzume’s late mother. Thus begins Suzume, the film, with our heroine Suzume chasing after a galloping, talking, child-sized chair (that’s Souta), which in turn is chasing the cat. They’ll go all around Japan, with Suzume and Souta doing their best to prevent disaster at every turn. 

All of this scene-setting and exposition happens in the first 15 minutes of this gorgeous two-hour feature. Through Suzume and Souta’s journey, the film foregrounds the human cost of natural disasters, especially those of real-world events in Japan, including the Great Eastern Japan Earthquake of 2011, an event that changed Japan as a whole. In every ruin that the duo visit, they’re forced by their mission to take time to think of the people that once lived there, hear their voices, remember their everyday lives. In multiple interviews, Shinkai has said that his primary audience for Suzume is young people, those who do not remember the 2011 earthquake, so that they can understand the trauma and tragedy caused by it and connect with an older generation who did experience it. For those outside Japan, it’s a gentle reminder that events in our history books are more than just dates to remember. It’s an especially timely reminder in 2023. 

For all its supernatural plot points, Shinkai also makes sure Suzume has the feel of a travel film, with long sequences involving trains and bus journeys, allowing both Suzume, Souta, and the viewer to gaze upon incredibly expansive and detailed vistas across Japan. The scale of their journey is also cleverly brought to our attention as Suzume often checks the maps app on her phone to see just how far she is from home. While the film has overarching themes of trauma and tragedy, it’s also unabashedly fun as Suzume makes friends in every place she visits, allowing us to peek into people’s lives. The film reminds us of the kindness of strangers and also has some classic anime-esque moments, foremost of all being Souta as a clackety chair, scuttling along in chase of a small cat. Speaking of the cat — he quickly acquires the name Daijin — he’s trending on social media about half an hour into the film. This is an extremely intelligent storytelling device that not only locates Suzume in the present, but also allows its characters to follow Daijin and anticipate his next move, as he’s the key to locking away the worms responsible for the earthquakes.  

A climactic event halfway through the film suddenly shifts the focus of the story onto Suzume herself, and she must now finally come to terms with the events of her childhood, her own grief and her relationships with loss and family as she travels toward her birthplace in Tohoku, now joined by her aunt, a strong supporting character who rises to the fore as the film reaches its third quarter. 

It’s not easy to encapsulate Suzume into words, because Shinkai intends it to be expansive and emotional. His work has been previously compared to that of the iconic Hayao Miyazaki, especially for his visuals. While Shinkai has politely distanced himself from the anime legend in past interviews, in his work, the director takes magical realism and brings it closer to the real world, lingering on relationships and the emotions within them even as the overarching plot moves ahead. Every element flows gracefully into the next: One minute you’re giggling at Souta in his chair avatar, and five minutes later, Shinkai has wowed you into silence and contemplation by the sight of a ruin in Tokyo. Every character, even the minor ones whom Suzume and Souta meet along the way, is memorable. Their interactions with the duo and the glimpses  of their own stories and lives make them feel complex and real, despite their cameo-like appearances. 

While a lot of anime (especially TV series) can often be slotted neatly into specific genres because of their tropes, Suzume surpasses such categories, seamlessly weaving together themes of coming-of-age, grief, loss, and a quintessential road trip. It neatly connects all this to real-life events that changed the landscape of Japan, both literally and sociologically. Magnificent and emotional,  Suzume finds ways to be cathartic and makes space for the memories of a whole generation affected by disaster; all while taking the audience on a beautiful meander through the most ordinary of interactions and life experiences. And for all those naysayers who still think animated films or anime are just for kids, this film will be an eye-opener.