Amateur Recommendation Hour: A Silent Voice

Today’s recommendation is definitely among my favorite anime films of all time. A work that tugged at my heartstrings so strongly my emotions wouldn’t let go even after the credits were rolling and I was wiping the tears from my eyes. Its rawness, authenticity, and generosity strikes our heartstrings in ways few works of art can claim. A rare film that makes me believe in the power of art as much as any I've previously seen. And I hope it helps you believe in its power as well.

A Silent Voice, directed by Naoko Yamada and animated by the fine and resilient folks at Kyoto Animation, is a sweet, unflinching, and empathetic piece that has resonated with many an audience. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the 2019 arson attack on Kyoto Animation's Studio 1 Building that claimed the lives of 36 at the studio including that of character designer Futoshi Nishiya, color designer Naomi Ishida, key animators Yoshiji Kigami and Ami Kuriki, in between animator Jun'ichi Uda, clean up animator Sachie Tsuda, production manager Keisuke Yokota, and background artist Mikiko Watanabe. The victims and their families will forever remain in our collective hearts and minds.

High school student Shoya Ishida intends to kill himself after years of personal growth has gone unnoticed by his peers. He changes his mind before he does something he cannot take back. We learn that in his elementary school days he was ostracized and cast out by his fellow students for mercilessly bullying a hearing-impaired new student. Now a social outcast on the brink of suicide, he decides to do everything in his power to make amends with the hearing-impaired student. Slowly rebuilding the bridges between himself and Shoko (the hearing-impaired student) her family and inner circle. Learning sign language in order to not just communicate with Shoko and express the things he wasn’t able to in a young, unrefined state, but unintentionally heal himself along the way too.

It is absolutely mesmerizing away at how well written, and expertly crafted each major character has been given. It is allowed to naturalistically enhance our connection to the events occurring on screen and flourish without contrived melodrama. Enhancing or juxtaposing each character with each other. Believably impacting each story beat without compromising itself with writing shortcuts and unearned cheap stingers. In particular our main character Shoya is given very stark imagery to convey his state of mind as the film progresses in a very smart manner without feeling heavy-handed. The main character cast as a whole is portrayed with such, reality, each with wholly believable motivations, reactions, and most importantly mannerisms, it is the unsaid that tells us as much about these people as the spoken words. So much done with comparatively little in the way of fleshing out backstory. A Naoko Yamada staple and an undeniably brilliant aspect of her artistic visions. It’s subject matter so intensely delicate and fragile yet handled with the deftest and emotionally intelligent of hands. In a film where high school is the center of attention, to keep the pace of the narrative as well as this work does is a credit to how tightly written it is. The moments that move it forward must be subtle and in a film that is as smart as A Silent Voice, natural. Rarely does it ever drag or maintain a plot thread beyond the point of natural conclusion. The connective tissues which weaves this film together is felt from each story beat to the next.

These are high school students in the most emotionally vulnerable times of their lives to this point, who only have history with each other reaching back to their youngest selves. To say that one compounds the other, creating unfair power imbalances and unclear memories makes for social ostracizing and drama on a thermonuclear level. Conveyed brilliantly through characterization that feels as living and breathing as each of this work’s meticulously crafted parts. Kyoto Animation’s attention to detail may be as fully realized here as any of their previous or future creations.

It's management of its background elements and themes are top notch as well. None feel like they are overstepping into the foreground or overtaking the spotlight away from the main heartbeat of the work. It is laser focused, but not so much that it is unable to incorporate and accommodate other believable elements into its space when applicable. It's narrative threads and pacing a woven so beautifully into a complex tapestry that feels so uniform yet features so many different colors.

My personal interpretation of this work is that of the importance and the validation of redemption and allowing for character rehabilitation. We all do things when we are young that we regret, that are not indicative of who we are going to become. These things may be influenced by those who we surround ourselves with, societal expectations, and they unfortunately have the potential to stick with us and our reputation long after we have grown out of these immature traits we displayed at younger ages. We are unfairly judged based on our past actions, not who we have tried so vigorously hard to become. In a way I believe this piece to be an allegory of the communication problems and the pressures of modern societal expectations. We are “cancelled” before we have the change to truly grow and make amends for our past behavior that does not reflect who we were meant to become.

On a personal real life note, this film means the world to me. As someone whose life arc has been not too dissimilar to Shoya Ishida in terms of my personal growth as a human being, how my personality traits have developed, and who I've discovered myself to want to be as much and as often as I possibly can, this work resonates so very strongly with me. I cannot recommend this film enough to everyone under the sun. You owe it to yourself to experience this Kyoto Animation masterclass.