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The Imagination of A Whisker Away Overcomes its’ Staleness


There’s something inherently cynical about A Whisker Away. And it has to do with the adorable kitten running around through most of it. Cuteness can often be a crutch, a device to easily pander to audiences who just want something to gawk at, and in pet films and animated films especially, one that is all too tempting to resort to -and A Whisker Away is both. Junichi Sato and Tomotaka Shibayama are definitely guilty of exploiting the cute design of their lead character and the fluff of the entire concept, but their film is not A Dog’s Way Home. It’s not wholly shameless or even banal formula anime -it’s got some surprising claws (sorry).
The frustratingly obligatory teen romance element of A Whisker Away is as trite and disposable as any other, but the real life of this movie is in the areas where it unabashedly embraces its own silliness. Down to its basics, it is the story of a girl who’s already pretty obsessive and eccentric, gaining the power to turn into a small cat to be closer to her crush and escape from an unsatisfying daily life. In this there’s a lot of annoying anime staples, but they’re complimented by more adventurous tonal choices than I expected. This isn’t Penguin Highway (the last film from this same company, Studio Colorido) or even Weathering With You, taking themselves more seriously than they probably should -A Whisker Away often knows it’s sort of a joke -or at the very least it’s lead character is.
Miyo is impulsive and hyperactive and just all around weird, who far from keeping her affections secretive, as is the much more common character trait for this kind of story, is rather loud or open in her love for Hinode. And because of all this, she’s more down-to-earth and relatable than most anime teen girl protagonists I’ve encountered. She’s wild and overly sincere and most importantly dumb and self-centred in a way you can recognize in most children. Hirose by comparison is somewhat more typically dull, but a number of the other characters have refreshing sparks of authenticity to them as well, most notably Miyo’s young step-mother, trying to be a compassionate maternal figure, and Miyo’s loyal best friend Yoji, much more introverted but tolerant of Miyo’s shenanigans. Though as is unfortunately common of anime youth romances, the closeness of the two friends is emphasized only to be forgotten by the last act.
The film opens on a festival that a depressed Miyo leaves in the rain, encountering a creepy giant cat on the road in an explicit allusion to My Neighbour Totoro. The cat, who recurs through the movie as a haunting Faustian figure of temptation, sells her a Noh mask of a cat, determined to eventually get her “human” mask in return. The threat of the loss of her personhood hovers over every scene of her in kitten form as she cozies up to Hinode, providing some weight to scenes of otherwise little interest. As much time as there is devoted to it and as much as the directors make attempts to build empathy for it -Hinode’s relationship with the cat mirroring a gradually kinder one with Miyo- the love story of this film doesn’t work. Though I admire the level of self-awareness demonstrated, i.e. Yoji pointing out how Miyo’s obsessive feelings border on stalker tendencies, the film ultimately resorts to the same tired fantasy romance outcome that is far too inorganic and not in the slightest bit believable. It is also the particular, but by no means lethal damper on the most creative and enjoyable portion of the movie.
The third act of A Whisker Away really does outdo almost everything that came before. Far less steeped in recycled angst and sterile plotting, a few new elements introduced go a long ways to earning your interest and charming you with their weird curiosities. The giant cat becomes a more enticing, even menacing cross between comical fiend and Goethe’s Devil and yet the turns the plot takes aren’t in any way genuinely perilous -and they’re too affably eccentric to dislike. The English title designed to evoke Spirited Away (it has almost nothing to do with the original Japanese: Wanting to Cry, I Pretend to be a Cat), seems apt when it becomes clear how much the directors are referencing that Miyazaki masterpiece in their greatest, most fantastic set-piece. It very much strives for a similar sensibility as some of the greats of Studio Ghibli, and though it doesn’t attain the necessary heart for that, the effort is compelling enough. The sequences set in this environment are that much more visually rich and surreal as well, and positively filled with as many anime cats as you could want.
And that is probably the audience A Whisker Away is most for, though it does have reach beyond that intersection of fluff anime and pet movie fans. It’s creative and fun and refreshingly relatable in ways it might not seem to be on initial judgment. I appreciate the classical morality tale aspect to it, as much as it is stripped of much depth for a kids’ movie. But it can get by on the strength with which it whisks you along by its wholesome commitment to its bizarre flights of fancy. Sometimes that’s all you really need from a movie.

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