5 Centimeters Per Second review

The first episode of 5 Centimeters Per Second clarifies the meaning of the film’s title- it’s the rate that cherry blossoms fall. As Japan’s unofficial national flower, sakura has been celebrated for centuries. In March, tree branches are filled with bursts of delicate color while petals flutter downward with the grace of a master ballerina. But sakura also signify the transient nature of life. In bloom for about two weeks, memories long outlive the actual hanami (lit. “flower viewing”).

But the film also explores the effect of distance and time on people. The gravity that eventually pulls every sakura downward is similar to the faint but persistent force that ebbs away at human connection. Like the rocket that thrusts skyward in the film’s second episode, the pull of gravity is intermittently overcome, as a plume of smoke comes briefly etched against a vast sky.

Across a succinct sixty-five minute running time that’s split into a trio of episodes, we witness three pivotal moments in Takaki Tōno’s life. Each explores how physical distance or the tempo of communication can affect the human bond. Writer and director Makoto Shinkai’s reflections favor sound and image over spoken dialog. As such, the film often feels the contemplation of someone ruminating over a far-flung past, still caught between regret and acceptance.

Unlike some of his early works like The Place Promised in Our Early Days, Children Who Chase Lost Voices, or more recent efforts such as Your Name and Weathering With You, there are no fantastical or science fiction elements that drive the film’s plot along. There’s also no action or antagonist. Instead, 5 Centimeters Per Second holds your attention by depicting the elusiveness of relationships with the kind of truthfulness absent from romantic comedies. A viewing of the film provides insight and perhaps solace for an unrealized past, rather than any kind of feel-good escapism.

In elementary school, Takaki meets a transfer student named Akari Shinohara. The pair become easy friends, bonding over shared interests, the coincidental borrowing of the same library books, and seasonal allergies that keep them both indoors. After graduation, the similarities persist. Takaki’s parents move to one of the southernmost prefectures of Japan. Work forces Akari’s parents relocate northward to Tochigi.

Corresponding regularly, Takaki takes the train up to visit Akari during his winter break. It’s a pivotal moment and he decides to write a letter to profess his feelings. But the snow is particularly heavy and delays his arrival. Set in 1995, the two preteens don’t have a way to communicate electronically. Tension builds as we wonder if the two star-crossed kids will meet and whether Takaki will have an opportunity to give Akari the note.

What follows is one of those ephemeral cinematic moments of pure beauty- cinema’s equivalent of the cherry blossom. Shinkai brilliantly captures the splendor of a seemingly ordinary location: a waiting room at the Iwafune Station in 1995. Outside, the space is blanketed in with puffs of snow, gently illuminated by light shining through nearby windows and convenience machines. Inside are functional plastic chairs and a hearth emitting a welcoming glow. Even if you’ve never experienced the charm of a rural train station, the scene evokes the serenity that emerges when utilitarian facilities provide shelter from the elements and a place for nestling with a close acquaintance. Like the sakura, it’s an ephemeral experience, and we’ll eventually see a modernized station later in the film that evokes a pang of nostalgia.

Episode 2, “Cosmonaut” finds Takaki in his third year of senior high school, near the Tanegashima Space Center. A classmate named Kanae Sumida falls for Takaki, who is still too focused on Akari to notice. Far from the obligatory secondary love interest intended to inject tension into a plotline, the film shifts the spotlight onto Kanae. The lovelorn lead’s narration is poetic, filled with exceptional honesty, and a tendency for mild self-appreciation. While Takaki might overlook her feelings, it’s difficult as an audience member to not fall for Kanae, a surfer who tames the ocean far better than her emotions.

As a rocket races skyward in the background, it’s apparent that the film’s cast is careening toward adulthood. Episode 3, “5 Centimeters Per Second” reconnoiters that transitional stage. Where some are able to bravely venture into the deep blue perils of maturity, others have trouble breaking orbit. Masayoshi Yamazaki’s “One More Time, One More Chance” punctuates the film’s closing moments, with lyrics meditating on the fleeting flashes of personal connection and the acceptance that those moments are just memories.

Since 5 Centimeters Per Second’s 2007 debut, the film has arrived on several home formats with publishers such as Discotek and Deltamac putting out now out-of-print media. Traditionally, both Blu-ray and DVD transfers were spotty, which is a shame since Shinkai’s film is a tribute to Tokyo’s lively transit system and the allure of rural life. GKIDS’s new Blu-ray release is near flawless, offering a pristine 1080p transfer for the film’s survey of environmental exquisiteness. Honestly, I don’t think there’s a single frame in the film that isn’t absolutely stunning. While two different dubs were recorded for the film, this package only includes the most recent performance with Johnny Yong Bosch and Erika Weinstein in the lead roles. While it’s a capable dub, the original Japanese 5.1 DTS-HD MA audio will probably be preferred by purists.

Beyond an hour’s worth of storyboards, and a 26-minute interview with Makoto Shinkai, the disc also offers two of the director’s early shorts: 1999’s She and Her Cat and Voices of a Distant Star. The former is a five-minute OVA made while Shinkai was working at Nihon-Falcom, showcasing the symbiotic reassurance between animals and humans. Distant Star demonstrates the director tweaking the conventions of shonen. There is mecha, but also Shinkai’s interpersonal insights that deliver as much impact as even the mightiest weapon.

5 Centimeters Per Second is now available on
Blu-ray and digital distribution via GKIDS.  

Robert Allen

Since being a toddler, Robert Allen has been immersed in video games, anime, and tokusatsu. Currently, his days are spent teaching at two southern California colleges. But his evenings and weekends are filled with STGs, RPGs, and action titles and well at writing for Tech-Gaming since 2007.

3 Comments

  1. Good review. Brought back some of the memories when I watched this the first time. I think anyone who ever longed for a person or had your heart broken will really appreciate 5CPS.

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