THE COLORS WITHIN - Mark Reviews Movies

The Colors Within, GKids

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Review by Mark Dujsik | December 12, 2024

The main character of The Colors Within sees the world—or, at least, other people—differently. It's in such moments when director Naoko Yamada's coming-of-age story reveals that animation must be the most appropriate way of telling this tale, because Totsuko (voice of Sayu Suzukawa) sees people as color. The general shape of a human form, apparently, is there, but otherwise, the girl envisions bright, glowing, and fluid movements of various hues, depending on an individual's mood and foundational character.

There's a beauty here that demands a form as inherently painterly as the medium of animation, and Yamada and the film's artists envision Totsuko's view of people by way of swirls of watercolor in motion. The imagery is striking, especially when it comes amidst the rest of the story, which is presented in the more traditional look of anime. In that relatively straightforward approach, the film looks lovely, because the animators give the characters emotions that match the underlying conceit of how the protagonist sees the world and the background artists render these various locales with intricate detail.

Beyond the artistry of the appearance of Yamada's film, the story gradually becomes almost as strong as its visual elements. It seems simple at first, as a shy girl, who's afraid of being seen as different because of her perspective, learns to connect to a couple of likeminded people, who gradually become the closest kind of friends.

There's a scene here in which the three teenagers sit around in an abandoned church, sharing their hopes and fears and why they feel the way they do about themselves. It's also strange to consider how real the worlds and characters of animation can seem, despite the fact the form is so clearly unreal by its very nature. What that comes down to, perhaps, is as simple as the strength of a story, because the unreal quality of an animated movie is only superficially more so than any live-action one. A story told well in a movie, with characters whose richness comes through that tale, is as real in the mind as art can be.

Screenwriter Reiko Yoshida's story does take some time to reach that point, since it does have a couple of conceits to establish and develop before the characters really do come to life. We learn about Totsuko's distinct way of seeing people, as she grows up around a ballet school and draws what it looks like in her mind when the dancers spin in those dances, and eventually arrive at the story proper when the girl is in high school.

She's a residential student at a Catholic school run by nuns. Totsuko keeps her color-based vision of people a secret, because she already feels like an outsider, and also hides her feelings for fellow classmate Kimi (voice of Akari Takaishi). Those feelings initially come across as romantic, especially when Totsuko describes Kimi's color, but for whatever reason, the film gradually diminishes that sense to one of simple admiration and connection.

Kimi's a bit of a rebel at the school, leading her to quit after getting into trouble a few too many times for the nuns' liking. While wandering around time on a day off, Totsuko bumps into Kimi at the bookstore owned by the girl's grandmother (voice of Keiko Toda), and when a teen boy named Rui (voice of Taisei Kido) enters the shop and suggests that he and the guitar-playing Kimi form a band, Totsuko says she'd like to be a member, too. The only problem, which doesn't turn out to be much of one, is that Totsuko doesn't know how to play any instrument, apart from tapping keys on a little synthesizer.

The three practice in that old church, located on a small island off the coast of town. That's one central aspect of the story, as the trio work separately and play off each other's riffing to create songs that, as composed by Kensuke Ushio, are pretty catchy. The film actually cares about the creative process, too, as Totsuko writes lyrics in her dorm room, Rui assembles an electronic soundscape to surround them, and Kimi develops licks on her electric guitar and sings the melodies. It all leads to a big festival at the school, and by the time the band gives a concert, the payoff has been earned.

That feeling, though, also comes because we get to know the characters outside of their songwriting. We know Totsuko from the start but watch as she opens up to these friends in ways she hasn't with others. Kimi explains how worried she is about letting down the grandmother who raised her but not wanting to be the well-behaved, boring kind of person she thinks everyone wants her to be. Rui loves music, but he knows his future lies in a more reliable field, like everyone else in his family before him. Whatever the future brings, they have this one moment to do what they want and be honest about it with each other.

Again, it's quite lovely in the simplicity of the storytelling, the sense of these characters, and the animation making it all possible. The Colors Within may leave a few ideas hanging, especially how Totsuko feels about Kimi, and not quite develop Totsuko's way of seeing the world, although there's a genuinely moving moment in which she finally sees one particular person's color. The film, though, gives us a strong sense of these bonds, formed in shared creativity and deepened by a shared uncertainty about who they are and what life has in store for them.

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