Look Back

The plot of this film spoke to me in a scarily relatable manner. Fujino, a manga artist for her local newspaper, finds herself a small-scale celebrity among her classmates for her fun, 4 panel stories. The animation and soundtrack here were downright beautiful, and I found myself deeply moved by the direction this film took. Back in school, I had similar popularity thrust upon me. Just as Fujino crafted manga for her newspaper, I had a knack of creating videos for my school's televised broadcast. I found myself having the same conversations in real life as the ones portrayed in Look Back; the praise for "how good" your art is, adults saying "you're the best I've seen," peers asking "what are you going to do next?" I embraced this validation and used it to fuel my fire, skewing my purpose as a creator and prolonging the answer to a deep-seeded question that's brought to light later. I was not surprised in the slightest at how Fujino's arc unfolded. She was faced with competition; Kyomoto, a mystery girl who never came to school, wanted to show her own manga panels alongside Fujino's. I loved watching the breakdown of Fujino's ego as she came to terms with another person like her. I remember those emotions well; when other peers came along that wanted to do what I did, I felt a natural defensiveness. A desire to compete: to protect my status as "the greatest." The emotions here were pinpoint accurate, even down to the sentiment of "I quit because I will never be as good as people better than me." Yeah... that one hit home. I was glad to see how Kyomoto and Fujino ended up coming together to resolve their unnecessary rivalry. It's an important lesson -- and one I experienced well -- to learn to put your ego aside and draw inspiration from those like you, rather than feel threatened by them. It was beautiful seeing how their shared passion intertwined the two. Towards the end of the film, Fujino talks about the tedious, "unglamorous" nature of making manga, stating she should "just stick to reading it." To which she was asked, "then why do you draw, Fujino?" By this point, the tears began to well. I don't make videos quite like I did back in school. Maybe it's burnout, maybe it's laziness, maybe the fire has gone dim, but this is a fundamental question for any kind of artist: "why?" If the process of making the art is so tiresome, so arduous, so "unglamorous," then why? We are presented with Fujino's "why," but after watching this, I think it's time to look back for mine.