Children of the Sea is Unspeakably Beautiful and Unnecessarily Dense

If you ever wondered what the anime equivalent to 2001: A Space Odyssey would be, then look no further.

Image source: 映画『海獣の子供』公式 on Twitter

Children of the Sea is the story of junior high school girl Ruka and the strange boys living at her local aquarium, Sora and Riku. What starts as the story of an odd friendship with these two boys who seem more at home in water than on dry land turns into a supernatural tale that enters the realm of the inexplicable by the time that the ending credits roll.

There is a lot about Children of the Sea that doesn’t fit the current mold for anime—or films in general for that matter. To start with, the pacing is painfully, laboriously slow. There are many scenes with little or no dialogue and the film is committed to spending as much time showing off its visuals as possible.

Image source: 映画『海獣の子供』公式 on Twitter

In a lot of ways, it feels like the film is all flash and no substance—especially in the second half. It doesn’t help that Children of the Sea feels no impetus to explain what is actually going on. Oh, sure, the myriad of random exposition characters we focus on from time to time have one crackpot theory or another, but there is nothing to say that any of them are correct.

Now, that’s not to say you aren’t given enough to make your own theories—after all, we basically know everything Ruka knows by the end of the film. However, you’ve got your work cut out for you when it comes to interpreting the visual storytelling present in the film’s climax if you want to get anything meaningful out of it.

Image source: 映画『海獣の子供』公式 on Twitter

As for the characters, Ruka is part of a family in mid-collapse. Her mother sits at home drinking all day and her father escapes to work so he never has to come home. This has caused Ruka to become a problem child at school, acting out violently whenever she perceives she’s being treated unfairly. This leaves her friendless at school.

Then suddenly, she makes a connection with Umi. Not only is he happy to be around her, but he actively seeks her out. On the other hand, her relationship with Sora is of the more antagonistic kind. Sora clearly sees her as an intruder into his relationship with Umi but at the same time can’t help but notice she is more clued into what is going on, more than the adults anyway.

Image source: 映画『海獣の子供』公式 on Twitter

It’s not hard to see what Ruka’s character arc is: she is emotionally stabilized by her friendship with Umi and Sora so that she is able to make friends at her school by the time the film ends. What’s not so clear is how exactly this comes to pass. After all, Ruka is the only character in the film to receive any development at all.

Image source: 映画『海獣の子供』公式 on Twitter

Umi and Sora, while interesting, are plot devices that move the story forward more than anything else. They are puzzles to be solved—puzzles we never explicitly get the answers to. The rest of the characters in the film are either the fleeting connections Ruka has to her once normal life or the aforementioned walking exposition dumps.

Even on the thematic front, it’s hard to say what the film’s message is—beyond “the ocean is really damn pretty, you guys.” And really, it’s clear that the film isn’t as concerned with things like plot, characters, and themes as it is with looking as beautiful as possible for two hours. And on that front, it most definitely succeeds.

At the start of the film, everything is well grounded. Thus the visuals are focused on the mundane, everyday world of a Japanese seaside town. What’s insane from the get-go is the incredible attention to detail. The backgrounds in much of the film are nearly photorealistic—from the town’s winding hillside streets to the pipe-filled backstage areas of the aquarium.

This especially stands out in some of the films more ambitious shots—most prominently the lengthy tracking shot that has Ruka running towards the camera while it moves away from her at the same speed. In most films, the backgrounds would become a blur thanks to the movement. Not so in Children of the Sea which keeps the detail throughout.

As the film moves more and more into the supernatural, so do the visuals. This is most obviously seen in how the film begins to play with light and color. More and more scenes take place at twilight or night. The characters begin to glow with strange auras—as do the fish and even the waters themselves. It’s hauntingly beautiful—and none of the detail earlier spent on the backgrounds of the town is lost here to boot.

And then the film just goes full 2001 in the final act. Lights, colors, sounds—even star babies. To call it a psychedelic drug trip would be an understatement. It’s a wild ride and a sight to behold—and one you’ll probably need to see more than once to get anything of substance from.

Image source: 映画『海獣の子供』公式 on Twitter

To be frank, I was bored more often than not watching Children of the Sea. There was very little for me to engage with as a viewer—be that plot, characters, or themes. However, even with that said, I’d recommend that anyone watch this film once for the visuals alone. From start to finish it simply presses the limits of how good an anime can look. It is truly a sight to behold.

Children of the Sea was released in Japanese theaters on June 7, 2019. There is currently no word on a Western release.


Top image source: 映画『海獣の子供』公式 on Twitter

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Richard Eisenbeis Written by:

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