ComingSoon Editor-in-Chief Tyler Treese spoke with Suzume director Makoto Shinkai about the movie’s themes and how his work has become acclaimed internationally. The anime movie will release in theaters on April 14, 2023.
“17-year-old Suzume’s journey begins in a quiet town in Kyushu when she encounters a young man who tells her, ‘I’m looking for a door,’” reads the film’s synopsis. “What Suzume finds is a single weathered door standing upright in the midst of ruins as though it was shielded from whatever catastrophe struck. Seemingly drawn by its power, Suzume reaches form the knob. Doors begin to open one after another all across Japan, unleashing destruction upon any who are near. Suzume must close these portals to prevent further disaster.”
Tyler Treese: In Suzume, a main character is transformed into a chair. What were the challenges of making this inanimate object so expressive and able to resonate emotionally with viewers?
Makoto Shinkai: There are actually several reasons why I decided to place a chair next to Suzume as her sidekick. One of them being the very central theme of this film is the 2011 Great East Japan earthquake. Because that is based on an actual event and the subject matter is that heavy, had we taken a much more straightforward approach to this film in depicting and retelling some of those elements, I think it would’ve been a very dark and heavy film. So I wanted a character standing opposite Suzume, who, by his very existence, would offer some kind of comic relief and offset the gravity of the subject matter.
The other reason is the metaphor of the three-legged chair. Suzume’s own trauma of her mind and heart are represented as a three-legged chair. She experienced great loss and great trauma at a very young age and that loss — the idea that something is missing — is shown as a missing leg on this chair. Yet at the same time, the chair is still able to walk, run, and even laugh and move forward toward the future. So I wanted to represent Suzume’s mental state on one end. The other is that the feeling of being cramped in this dark, rigid, and almost claustrophobic form of a chair is representative of what the younger generation is feeling — especially in Japan, but perhaps around the world as well.
Take COVID, for example, where everyone was sent into lockdown. You were shut in your room, told you had to stay within here. The same could be said about Japanese society at large, where we’re no longer in that so-called golden age, where the economy was booming and the population was growing. Yet this younger generation, who doesn’t enjoy the fruits of that era, is still burdened with the pressures and social demands of what is expected of a younger generation. So they’re caught between a rock and a hard place, really. Representing that confinement, to me, is why Sōta is trapped in a chair.
You explore the memories and the importance of an abandoned location so well. We see these areas that were once filled with life in such a sad state. Can you speak to using that visual and thematic contrast throughout the movie?
I think the visual, simply the backdrop of ruins, can be oddly attractive, in some ways. I know that there are those who love to travel around the world and visit certain ruins where human culture or human society civilization once thrived, yet somehow — through natural disaster or perhaps human phenomena — was left behind. I think there is this nostalgia and also, in a weird way, romance of seeing nature reclaim or retake what once belonged to humans and was under the control of humans. In that same way, I think ruins almost represent this wound or scar of a country, if you will.
And as Suzume travels through these various ruins, I think we, as the audience, get perspective into these different wounds that Japan as a country is carrying. Some are the result of a natural disaster or some are the result of the decline in the human population — like the amusement park that no longer has demand — or some the result of the meltdown of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant.
These subtle nuances … I don’t even know if all the Japanese moviegoing audiences would’ve noticed, but regardless of whether or not they did, I think there is something very cathartic that you can see through the screen when Suzume is traveling from one ruin to another, closing these doors — the symbolism of her, in a way, healing the wounds of this country. I think, at the same time, as she goes through this journey, her character arc … she’s healing and overcoming her own traumatic experiences,
Despite the heavy themes, this is still very much a road trip movie about traveling through Japan. There are lighthearted moments to offset the overall story. What did you like most about giving your own spin on that genre?
Throughout her own travels, Suzume encounters many different people. Often very, very kind people who help her without any prospect of reward. Chika, for example, puts her up for a night and gives her clothes to wear, while Rumi feeds her and then gives her a hat for her journey. I wanted to depict that, in spite of all this, in Japan, people like this do exist. I can’t say every single person we will ever encounter is always going to be as kindhearted as they are, but the fact that they exist — strangers helping and allowing others to help them — in a way, gives them courage. So that’s exactly what Suzume needed as she traveled through the different ruins across Japan.
Both Your Name and Weathering With You found so much success worldwide. How rewarding has it been to see that your work resonates with people globally, despite still very much being products of Japan and your culture?
In the case of Your Name and Weathering With You, and even Suzume, I never really considered the global market when developing or directing the film. If anything, I felt it was important for me to dig deeper on the ground upon which I stood, which in this case is very domestic, very local, and very Japanese. The first step for me was making a story and a theme that would resonate to those closest to me around me — the Japanese population.
So the international acclaim and success definitely comes as a surprise to me, but in some way, to continue that allegory from before, perhaps I can actually connect with the complete opposite side of the world if I dig deep enough. Perhaps that is also a result of the distribution companies in North America and the European countries — Crunchyroll, and in China, Road Pictures — really understanding what message anime can carry and the attraction that it has. I think we’re becoming better and better about delivering that message. At the same time, the world is more open to accepting and receiving that message through the anime medium, as well.
I read that Hayao Miyazaki’s work, like Castle in the Sky and Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro, inspired you. Seeing him still have that desire to create in his 80s is so incredible. As a creator yourself, do you find any additional inspiration there?
As encouraging as it is to see Miyazaki work well into his 80s, I think there’s also a sense of … I don’t know if despair is the right word, but I really can’t imagine myself working all the way into my 80s. Of course, as a fan, I definitely want to see whatever it is that’s in Miyazaki’s mind, but at the same time, what can I do and contribute? Imagining myself working as an 80-year-old man … it’s very hard for me to imagine.
So I think in that respect, Miyazaki is almost this force of nature, this monster in the animation industry. So it’s up to me to become a different type of director or chase a different path, and in some way, differentiate my work from his. So I, of course, admire and respect everything he’s achieved, but must also find my own path in this creative industry.