The Best Anime Movie: Makoto Shinkai’s Five Centimeters per Second
Whenever the name Makoto Shinkai is mentioned, it is attended by praises of his creative directing and writing, most frequently the blockbuster, “Your Name.”
“Your Name” brought Makoto’s excellence to the fore, making him a household name in the world of anime movies. Yet, I would argue that his earlier works, although much less known, are the crowning jewel of his storytelling ability.
Five Centimeters per Second is a romantic drama released in 2007. It centres around the protagonist, Tohno Takaki and three defined periods of his life. The movie was Shinkai’s seventh but only his second work of feature length. The film received positive reviews—it was awarded Best Animated Feature Film at the 2007 Asian Pacific Screen Awards and was Japan’s fourth most popular Blu-ray film in the following year— further boosting Makoto’s standing as a writer and director.
Five Centimeters per Second shows Takaki and his relationship—and eventual separation—with his friend, Akari Shinohara.
The movie is presented as a romantic drama exploring the blooming love between the protagonists. As the ending credits roll, however, romance is the last thing on the viewer’s mind. That is because, despite the initial impression and presentation, Five Centimeters per Second is a story of the inevitability of time. It is a tale of separation, consequences of enduring distance and the bittersweet pain of hope.
It is a depiction of loneliness, sadness and love in spite of it all.
Episode 1: Cherry Blossom
The first of the three acts is entitled “Cherry Blossom” and aptly starts with the line: “They say it’s five centimetres per second…the speed at which cherry blossoms fall.”
This section tells us the story of Takaki and Akari in elementary school and right from the start, Shinkai seems to emphasize the eventual separation of the protagonists.
In the first scene, after commenting on the speed of cherry blossom descent, Akari dashes away, running across the level crossing just as the gates come down, leaving Takaki stuck on the other side.
The next scene shows us Takaki reading a letter from Akari. It soon becomes evident that they are separated. Akari has transferred to another school after elementary school and now, their only interaction is by the letters they send.
In her letters, she mentions the changing of the seasons—the switch from summer to autumn and then winter; her changing situation—her new hairstyle, her new schedule, her new dressing; and Takaki’s changing distance—his parents’ impending transfer to Kagoshima.
As Akari’s voice narrates her letters, we are treated to bits and pieces of Takaki’s life. He isn’t lonely. We never read or hear Takaki narrate his letters, although we are certain he replies. In fact, they agree to meet up one time before Takaki transfers and the distance between them becomes insurmountable.
March 4th is the date set for their meeting and Takaki’s journey via train is chock-full of metaphors that prophesy the end of their relationship.
Takaki plans his trip meticulously, listing out stations, departure and arrival times. He also takes with him a similarly carefully crafted letter, a result of weeks of pondering, confessing his feelings to Akari.
With hope and more than a little desperation, Takaki boards the first train and we get the first glimpse into his mind. As the journey begins, our protagonist reflects on his relationship with Akari. They were both bookworms, bonding instantly over their shared love for the written word.
“Because our bodies were still small, frail, and prone to illness, the two of us preferred the library over playing on the sportsfield.”
Their relationship draws the attention of their classmates, who tease them. But as Takaki notes, “as long as [they] were together, strangely, things like that didn’t scare [them]”.
The strength of their relationship is such that Takaki feels like they’ll remain together from that point on. Life, however, makes a mockery of Takaki’s plans. Akari transfers away and as reflected in the present, the train taking him to her is delayed.
Just as it never occurred to Takaki that they wouldn’t spend the rest of their lives together, it never occurred to him that the snow would cause disruptions in the train service.
Slowly, we watch as Takaki’s carefully constructed plans fall away. At every stop, at every station, the delays increase. The initial meeting time of 7 pm comes and goes. Takaki’s train is stuck in the middle of nowhere for two hours.
“Every minute felt like an eternity.”
To make matters inexorably worse, the letter he painstakingly penned slips from his pocket and is lost to the wind. Lost and distraught, Takaki takes off his watch and places it next to one of the windows on the train. He can’t bear to look at the time. He feels as if time itself holds a clear malice towards him.
Finally, the train arrives at Akari’s home station of Iwafune, more than five hours after the predicted time. It is past eleven at night. The station is deserted, snow blankets everything in sight and yet, tucked into a corner of the small, lonely station is Akari.
She waited.
Despite the delays, despite the snow, disregarding the time, she waited. Takaki is elated. He calls out her name and she looks up, meeting his eyes with tears.
In an instant, the disappointment, the desperation, the anger and bitterness is wiped away. The kids share a meal, a kiss and a short walk around the quiet town.
“I clearly knew that from that point on, we wouldn’t be together forever.”
Morning seems to come too quickly and soon, Takaki is boarding the train to return home. Once again, Shinkai makes time the enemy, showing us that no matter how much our protagonists try to hold on, it remains elusive, like grains of sand slipping through a clenched fist.
As the train rolls away, Akari reveals a letter of her own, tucked into her pocket.
The episode comes to an end with Takaki staring out the window as the train pulled away, pondering his relationship with Akari and the uncertainty of time.
This episode is a masterpiece in subtleties. With often overlooked details, Shinkai communicates the themes of his story. Takaki crumbling his drafted schedule when it became apparent all trains would be delayed. Life is fickle and pays no heed to our plans.
At the end of the episode, it is almost impossible to predict the end of the story. Will Takaki and Akari meet again? Will they reunite in their later years, look back at their youth with laughter in their eyes?
If you look at what lies beneath the surface, however, the future becomes apparent.
Episode 2: Cosmonaut
Episode 2 is titled “Cosmonaut” and offers a glimpse of Tohno Takaki’s life from a new perspective. We see Takaki at his new school in Kagoshima through the eyes of his classmate, Sumida Kanae. Before long, it is apparent that Sumida has a crush on Takaki and is struggling with the right way to present her emotions. In that way, Sumida seems a lot like the younger Takaki.
She narrates their time together as we watch Takaki through her eyes. This is a new Takaki. In the previous act, while he was never extroverted and seemed quite reserved, Takaki was not lonely.
This Takaki seems lonely.
His words sound a little more measured, his expressions much more mute. This Takaki is…silent, trudging through life with a weight on his shoulders.
Sumida notes that Takaki is always texting someone on his phone. When Sumida asks who, he replies dismissively: “A friend in Tokyo.”
When a classmate pokes fun at Takaki, saying “that’s your girlfriend” in a way that mirrors the mockery with Akari. Takaki’s response, however, is wildly different. He brushes off the teasing with a brusque “she’s not my girlfriend” and carries on with his meal.
All the while, Sumida struggles with her feelings for Takaki. Indecision besets her. Should she confess or leave her emotions unexpressed? Shinkai expands this feeling of indecision to her education, showing her struggles to decide a path after high school. A community college? Work? Trade school?
She can’t come to a decision. On their way home together, Takaki assures her that her uncertainty is okay and that he also struggles with indecision, no matter how put together he may seem. The words strengthen Sumida and she humorously folds her career information form into a paper plane.
Where does the title of this episode come from? Shinkai doesn’t leave us wondering for too long.
“Cosmonaut” is a term used to describe Russian astronauts.
“They say it’s five kilometers per hour,” Sumida says as they wait behind a barrier, watching a massive rocket crawl past. “It’s going to the Minamitane Launch Facility.”
Takaki and Sumida live near this facility and a launch is being planned.
“It’s supposed to go to the far reaches of the solar system, no matter how many years it takes,” Takaki replies and we begin to peek behind the title of this act.
Despite the fact that the launch is unmanned, Takaki ponders at the loneliness the probe is bound to encounter, speeding through the vastness of space.
Does Takaki see himself as a cosmonaut, hurtling through emptiness for a future—or a past—he cannot reach? Perhaps.
“I wonder when I got into the habit of writing messages to nobody?” Takaki later muses and for a brief moment, we get another glimpse into our elusive protagonist’s mind. Dedicatedly and diligently, he types out long messages into his phone. After writing, however, he hits the delete button, erasing everything.
Yes, Takaki is lonely.
Sumida, on the other hand, is on a high. After six months of effort, she is able to surf the waves, standing proud atop her board. Riding that high, she decides to confess to Takaki on their way home. Just as she is about to speak, however, a thundering sound fills the air, rattling the skies.
The rocket is going off, launching into the vastness of space. Its afterburners split the sky into two, painting it with a surreal beauty.
Transfixed by the image, the two teenagers stare at the departing rocket, watching until it escapes the earth.
Finally, Sumida understands. “I felt like I somewhat came to understand why Tohno-kun was different from the other boys…[he] was always looking far beyond me. Far beyond me, towards something in the distance.”
The episode comes to an end with Sumida acknowledging that she will still love Tohno despite her emotions remaining unreciprocated.
Once again, Shinkai brings us face-to-face with time and its overarching power on our lives. Did Akari and Takaki grow apart, their relationship broken by distance and time? We aren’t told. We can only infer.
Episode 3: Five Centimeters per Second
The third episode is titled “Five centimeters per second,” a powerful portend to what the episode entails.
In the second episode, Takaki’s loneliness seemed to weigh upon him. In this act, however, he is positively crushed under its weight.
For the first time since the initial episode, we see Akari. Not as a recollection or as a yearning in Takaki’s mind but as a person.
She is engaged and is planning her marriage. The soft falling snow triggers her memory and she recalls Iwafune, that fateful town where the young lovers promised to see the cherry blossoms together.
A promise that held Takaki in its grasp for all the years since it was made.
The difference between adult Akari and Takaki is stunning. And it is a difference Shinkai wants us to absorb in its entirety.
Akari is happy, discussing her wedding plans with her parents. Takaki is an alcoholic and has just quit his job. In a text so reminiscent of Sumida’s realizations, Takaki’s girlfriend says: “Even now, I still love you but even if we had a thousand text messages back and forth, our hearts probably wouldn’t have moved even 1 centimeter closer.”
Throughout this movie, we have seen Takaki through a variety of mediums. Through his letters with Akari, through the eyes of a besotted classmate, through slices of his life.
Now, however, we are given surplus insight into Takaki’s thoughts, his emotions and his actions. In steady but gradual increments, the curtain rises and we see Takaki.
His life is falling apart. A relationship of three years ends via email. A resignation letter submitted. Cans and bottles of alcohol litter his room and cigarette ash dots the windowsill.
Takaki is lonely.
In a supermarket, Takaki encounters a magazine detailing the adventure of the spaceship that left earth during his high school days. The deep space exploration vessel is finally out of the solar system. A lonely journey of nine years.
The ending song rolls in and fittingly, it is a song about loss.
“I am constantly searching for you in places I know you can’t be.”
There is no more dialogue, internal or otherwise. As the masterful Masayoshi Yamazaki belts, we are treated to a montage of clips. Memories, glimpses of their very different lives.
As the film comes to an end, Takaki arrives at a train crossing and as he walks across to the other side, he passes a woman.
Akari?
He gasps and spins around just as the gates are coming down. He tries to get a better look but one train—then another—zips in front of him. When the trains finally zoom past and the gates climb up, the woman is gone.
Does Takaki dash across the crossing, chasing the woman down the street? She couldn’t have gone far. He can find her.
I half-expect him to. After all, this is what the film has been about, right? Desperate hands reaching out for someone so cruelly ripped out of his grasp. The love of his life.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he smiles—a soft, sad smile—and walks away.
What is Five Centimeters per Second about?
Maybe that’s what Shinkai wants us to understand.
Loss is inevitable. Time is unstoppable. There are some distances that are uncrossable. Loneliness and sadness are an unavoidable part of living.
Takaki says it best.
“Through the act of living itself, sadness piles up here and there.”
I have seen other watchers accuse Takaki of obsession.
“He was too obsessed.” “He couldn’t move on.”
Is Takaki a weak-willed soul, unable to let go of a childhood crush? A pitiful man, wary of reality? A person who lacks focus, wandering through life without any definite direction?
Shinkai invites us to ponder. And the answer becomes clear the closer we look. Life is full of these disappointments. Parents transferring to a different city, trains getting stuck in a winter storm, letters disappearing into the wind, losing contact with a dear friend.
How do people cope?
Some people move on quickly, shaking off the vestiges of the past. Others linger, weighed down by the memories of a better time.
Five Centimeters per Second is a story of loss, told through the life of Tohno Takaki. It is a story that forces us to examine ourselves and our reaction to life’s inevitabilities.
