“A deft blend of fantasy, romance and adventure.”

Over the past thirty years, the world has become more receptive to animation drawn from all corners of the globe – suddenly, the canonical western studios no longer hold the monopoly on the medium, particularly with the rise in accessibility for those produced internationally. One of the most exciting directors in Japanese animation is Mamoru Hosoda, who has already made quite a few well-received films in recent years, and seems poised to become one of the distinctive voices of his generation. This is a result of his unique animation style and his impeccable approach to storytelling, both of which are present in Scarlet, his latest directorial outing. The story follows Princess Scarlet, the daughter of the benevolent king of a fictional kingdom. After her father is usurped by his own brother, who takes the throne for himself, Scarlet begins to fear for her life. It doesn’t take long for her to become his next victim, which sends her into the physical state of limbo between life and death, embodied as an expansive, arid landscape filled with malicious forces that seek to strike the final blow to whoever is unlucky enough to find themselves there indefinitely. A fascinating and inventive work that unspools into one of the year’s most engaging films (and where its ambition is perhaps slightly too prominent), Scarlet is a deft blend of fantasy, romance and adventure, crafted by a director whose curiosity about the human condition has once again manifested in compelling ways, even when it sometimes struggles to choose one particular direction.

At no point in Scarlet can we predict what happens next, which is surprising considering Hosoda makes his inspirations quite clear. We’re initially led to believe that this is a gender-swapped adaptation of Hamlet, especially since many supporting characters bear the names of their Shakespearean counterparts, and the first few scenes follow the same general plot structure. However, inspiration is also drawn from T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland, John Milton’s Paradise Lost and Dante Alighieri’s The Divine Comedy – and while Hosoda may merely be using vague references to these texts (and many others – this is a film that will become more rewarding through multiple viewings, given the scope of ideas contained within it), their influence is undeniable in understanding the precise approach he was taking in telling this story. As a fantasy film, it is relatively straightforward – a sheltered princess becomes an unexpected hero when she is placed in a position where she can depend on nothing but her own bravery, seeking revenge against the people who attempted to break her spirit. However, Hosoda does find space to develop many of these ideas throughout the film, adding nuance in the sub-plots and supporting characters, who make Scarlet a much more engaging experience by allowing the director to take some wild diversions (including brief sojourns into the present day), which may make the meaning of the film slightly more difficult to pinpoint, but proves to be relatively effective as a whole.

Scarlet is a film that also benefits from being watched on the biggest screen possible, if it is accessible to the audience. This is not only a strong narrative work, but an accomplished visual and aural achievement. The aesthetic does match the epic scope of the story for the most part – Hosoda has an eye for visual detail, and this film makes solid use of different styles of animation to tell its story. The scenes set in the living world are done primarily in the hand-drawn, 2D style that we usually associate with the director, while those in the afterlife utilise some computer-generated animation. This is likely to be quite polarising, considering it is used to create gorgeous landscapes (some of the most beautiful images of the year), but also can appear slightly clunky at some points, particularly in the character movements. Whether it was done to evoke an off-kilter version of reality, or simply as an experiment to see how the technology functions under Hosoda’s direction, it is an interesting approach that does have some good sequences, even if they may not entirely compensate for the less-striking moments. A more consistent decision around the style would have elevated it in the more questionable moments, which may not derail the film from leaving an impression, but do sometimes draw us out of the story in a way that could have been resolved with additional work. Conversely, the sound design is quite strong, the score contributing to the intense atmosphere, fully immersing the viewer in this world and underlining the tension. It’s a film that does warrant being screened in cinemas, solely because it is much more of a sensory experience than it is a narrative one.

There are some who persistently raise the argument that Hosoda is the heir apparent to Hayao Miyazaki, and while this may seem like a rather shallow and superficial comparison built on exaggeration more than anything concrete, it’s not entirely without merit once you see the similarities in not only their work, but also their approach to certain subjects. They’re both masters of their craft, dedicated to elevating the medium of animation to remarkable new heights, and who are never intimidated by the challenge of exploring deep, complex themes on a much larger scale. The only drawbacks here come in how Hosoda sometimes struggles to establish a clear identity in terms of the animation style, since it would have been perfectly feasible to create something with such an enormous scope while still using traditional animation (which is steadily becoming an extinct art form, and one that we certainly need to preserve), and which would have allowed the film to seem much more reliable. We can’t dismiss every artistic choice – the director has been working long enough to inspire some degree of faith in the viewer, who will still likely find value in this film, whether narratively or visually. Scarlet is nonetheless very entertaining and has several effective moments, being a wonderful subversion of a few classic pieces of literature that the director redefines under his own bespoke vision, creating a work that reminds us of the value of audacity, even when the final product may not match the scope of ambition at the outset.