Mamoru Hosoda – Windows on Worlds

A gender-flipped take on Hamlet, Mamoru Hosoda’s latest feature animation Scarlet (果てしなきスカーレット, Hateshinaki Scarlet) seems to be a rebuttal of contemporary isolationist politics and authoritarian governments. His Otherworld is peopled by those from all places and times who, for the main part, co-exist peacefully aside from the odd marauding bandit. Even if there’s suspicion and division, people are also kind and try to help others. The recent arrivals from the world of Elsinore, however, are not really like that and are seeking to bring their particular brand of fascistic, war-wondering authoritarianism all the way to heaven itself.

In this version of the tale, Scarlet (voiced by Mana Ashida) unwittingly takes the cursed drink while dithering over killing her uncle, Claudius (Koji Yakusho), who has usurped the throne and married her uncaring mother Gertrude (Yuki Saito) who has a little of Lady Macbeth about her and switches allegiance to Amleth’s brother because she only cares about power. Amleth (Masachika Ichimura) had wanted to stop a potential war and build better relationships with neighbouring nations, while Claudius is hellbent on conquest and domination. Amleth is well aware that it’s the people who will suffer, and his subjects are very much not on Claudius’ side, protesting loudly at Amleth’s public execution. Having failed in her revenge and been resurrected in the Otherworld, Scarlet eventually discovers her father’s final word was “forgive,” only she doesn’t quite know what he meant by that and is conflicted in her quest for revenge while certain that she cannot let Claudius get away with his authoritarian coup.

On her travels, she meets a man from contemporary Japan. Hijiri (Masaki Okada) is a paramedic who insists he’s not really dead and must be here by mistake. He represents human kindness as a healer, though his ability to ride a horse and proficiency with bows and arrows is rather surprising. Coming from a world that’s not at peace, but not quite as unsettled as 16th-century Elsinore either, he begins to convince Scarlet that another world might be possible. If only she had inherited the throne, she might have proved most royal and created a better environment where her subjects were free to live happily without the threat of war or oppression, where those from other nations were thought of as friends rather than as enemies. Hosoda is clearly targeting a Japan which has slid to the right, becoming increasingly intolerant of residents from other parts of the world while far-right parties with fringe views make worrying gains in elections.

Nevertheless, he paints contemporary Japan in softer tones that the Otherworld. Though Hijiri may have become a victim of the latent violence in society while trying to protect others, it’s this world that becomes Scarlet’s benchmark for what a better society could be as she watches another version of herself dance joyfully at a street party with Hijiri. She begins to wonder what sort of person she could be if she weren’t so obsessed with revenge. While contemporary Japan is animated in a style familiar from Hosoda’s previous work, the hyperrealistic backgrounds of the Otherworld lend it a stark and frightening quality that simultaneously recalls the painted matte backdrops of classic anime. Whenever violence is about to occur, a giant dragon appears in the sky and roars, raining lightning on the world below as if issuing divine punishment for this basic moral transgression and turning the sky a blood-red scarlet.

In any case, Scarlet later reaches the conclusion that what her father intended was that she forgive herself, give up on revenge, and live her own life to its fullest. She may not be able to find it within herself to forgive Claudius, or her mother who never joins him in the Otherworld as he assumed she would, but it’s no longer her concern because her duty is to protect her people, so the only thing that matters is deposing him. Claudius and his goons had tried to block off the path to the Infinite Land so that only they, well really just Claudius and Getrude, could enter heaven leaving the ordinary people starving and miserable below. This is really Scarlet’s revenge. Creating a world without war where her subjects are able to lead happy, peaceful lives with no need to fear those from outside nor their own governments.

Trailer (English subtitles)

In Mamoru Hosoda’s Wolf Children, a young woman experiences heartbreak when the love of her life is cruelly cut down, leaving her alone with two small children whose particular needs send her off in search of a new way of living. Hosoda’s filmography is filled with family drama, of how difficult and painful the relationships between parents and children can be. Wolf Children was the story of a mother’s tragedy in that she has to set her children free in order to see them grow. The Boy and the Beast was a young man’s struggle to make peace with his father. Mirai (未来のミライ, Mirai no Mirai) presents an altogether less “complicated” vision of family life, steeped in authentic detail and gentle warmth.

The hero of the tale is Kun (Moka Kamishiraishi) – a train obsessed four year old suddenly presented with a new baby sister later named “Mirai” (Haru Kuroki). Having been an only child used to receiving all of his parents’ attention, Kun is intensely resentful of the various ways his life has changed. Feeling pushed out, he begins to throw tantrums, become argumentative, even threaten to run away from home. Meanwhile the family dog, Yukko, looks on with thinly veiled contempt as Kun gets a little of his own medicine in no longer being the centre of attention.

Taking refuge in the front garden which is a major feature of the family home designed by his architect father, Kun begins to receive a series of visitations – firstly from an anthropomorphised Yukko and then by the teenage incarnation of his little sister on an urgent mission to the past to ensure her absent minded father packs the Hina Matsuri dolls away on time lest she end up an old maid, prevented from marrying her one true love because of ancient superstition (and her father’s forgetfulness). After interacting with the older Mirai, Kun travels off on further flights of fancy to observe his mother at his age and even his late great grandfather – a dashing, motorcycle riding hero who walked with a limp thanks to a lucky wartime escape.

Snatched from vague comments overheard from his parents and grandmother, Kun’s adventures teach him new and valuable ideas about the world. He learns that it’s alright not to understand everything right away because that’s what life is for. As someone later puts it, there’s a first time for everything and once you’ve learned one thing you’re halfway way to knowing everything else. Meeting his mother as a youngster shows him that she was once a messy toddler too and that all things come in time.

Kun still doesn’t quite understand, but comes to a new appreciation of his home and his family as a part of something far larger of which he is merely a mid-point on an ever expanding scale. Mirai shows him his “family tree” as manifested literally in the one in the family garden. Somewhat oddly for a girl from the future, Mirai likens it to a card index like the ones at the library (perhaps one of her old fashioned preoccupations like the Hina Matsuri superstitions) filled with personal stories in which no one is ever really forgotten. Having gotten himself into quite a fix and wound up at a very futuristic looking Tokyo train station, it’s family which eventually sets Kun on his way back home, having remembered who he is in relation to others.

Yet Kun’s family is also intensely modern and going through changes of its own. Kun’s mother will be going back to work soon after Mirai’s birth – something still somewhat unusual in traditional Japan while in an even more seismic leap towards equality Kun’s father, who will be working from home, has committed to sharing responsibility for the domestic realm in looking after the children during the day as well as taking care of the cooking and the cleaning while Kun’s mum works. Kun’s mother might bristle at her husband’s eagerness to accept praise for only doing his fair share while struggling with ordinary day to day tasks, but the couple have soon found a happy equilibrium in embracing the joys and anxieties of building a family. Another beautifully profound tale from Hosoda, Mirai is a lovingly rendered exploration of what it is to live a life among lives with all the rewards and responsibilities that entails.

Screened as part of the 2018 BFI London Film Festival.

International trailer (English subtitles)

Tag: Mamoru Hosoda

Scarlet (果てしなきスカーレット, Mamoru Hosoda, 2025)

Mirai (未来のミライ, Mamoru Hosoda, 2018)