cocoon: Aru Natsu no Shoujo-tachi Yori (2025)
cocoon is structured as an excerpt of a larger wartime chronicle, sectioning a particular piece of the struggle and centering on a specific person's minor development. The scope of the one-hour film, while small, establishes its visual identity well enough to distinguish itself, given it's an NHK TV movie and all. The original source is based on the real story of the Himeyuri students, also known as the "Lily Corps", a girls' high school turned into a nursing unit during the Pacific War. They were mobilized by the Japanese army under false pretenses of impending victory and safety; however, as the film depicts, the girls were subject to harsh work in caves turned into makeshift hospitals and executing medical tasks in life-threatening conditions. cocoon follows Mayu and San among a band of other Okinawan girls constructing safehouses and soon having to assist at the hospital while constantly in fear of aerial attacks. The dialogue among the girls does an especially solid job in slowly isolating them and decreasing the available land in their own country, usually by indicating they must continue to head south although logic tells us one can only go south for so long. Once the girls have realized this futility, more drastic measures to die an honorable death become tempting.
Mayu and San's inferiority complex-ridden relationship is an underlying theme behind the wartime catastrophes. Mayu is an older girl and the subject of admiration among the group, a symbol of leadership. That goes for San too, who looks up to Mayu and sometimes sees her as a proxy for thoughts she's unable to confidently voice to the group. This becomes a recurring mental conflict and ultimately the obstacle San must get past to increase their chances of survival. One of the key metaphors drawn in parallel to San's low self-esteem is that of a "Kaiko", referring to silkworm pupae. The Japanese silk moth is evolutionarily fascinating because it has wings but is unable to fly. Similarly, San is a thoughtful, bright girl unable to express herself for fear of rejection, leaving many things unsaid or undone, unlike the moth, who will crawl forward endlessly through willpower. The insect is initially pitied by San, but soon her perseverance to survive gives new perspective on crawling when flight isn't possible, taking the road less traveled.
cocoon's metaphoric strengths are further visible in its approach to bloodshed and death. The girls were relatively sheltered and knew how to study, and while labor is difficult, witnessing the gore of mangled bodies is easier heard about than seen. Mangaka Machiko Kyo disguises blood and death as flowers, a way for San to cope with the trauma in the moment. In the story, this is Mayu's idea, and the imagery of multi-colored petals sprouting from a missing limb is startling, bloody or not. The idea of these teenagers being exposed to these scenes is harrowing by nature, but even more so when we envision San desperately trying to imagine petals in place of death. Despite its strong sense of visual storytelling, as an overall ode to war it gets as far as one hour will allow it, which is not that far. Politically, there is little substance, and in the ways of optimism, it sort of falls into a daze of inevitability. Unavoidable death and unavoidable stragglers who manage to survive. I'm more inclined to remember some of the conversations related to false patriotism than the teenage angst, and it would have benefitted from an open ending as well as slightly less political ambiguity.
The film's simplicity strikes two different chords, an emotionally resonant one and an admittedly surface-level exploration of heavy ultimatums the girls are faced with. It's hard to necessarily hold it against the film's runtime, but it limits its thematic output when we cut in and out of climactic segments that are otherwise central to the Japanese side of innocent civilians caught in the crossfire. In the premise of the film, the girls suffer not only from the enemy but from their brethren too. There's no upside to the battles for anyone in the midst, a motif omnipresent in each tragic event happening one after the other. cocoon becomes emotionally potent when sacrifices are made, throwing the two leads into questioning why they should bother living when the future is so uncertain and bleak. It cleverly circles back to the silk moth, personifying why the girls refuse to take the easy way out, arguably showing more resilience than the soldiers in a deluge of blood. This is where its simplicity highlights what the writing leaves for thought, and regardless of it cradling the ethical crimes, the distilled apocalyptic scenes bear value, even if only for remembrance of a war past.
Veteran Studio Ghibli animator Hitomi Tateno serves as the animation producer here in collaboration with studio Sasayuri. Her usual work is checking in-betweens, and in cocoon, her taking on a supervisor role works well in service of developing the picturesque look of a rural area. Visually, it does resemble a Ghibli-esque style, but it's not so much inspiration as it is Tateno's experience. The distinctive line art, color selection, and even expressions are presented impressively, and while the digital process reduces background detail, the dynamic layouts often show depth. Many of the static shots were my favorites, when the peripheral movements in the frame are in focus and add to the mood. Kensuke Ushio's tranquil jingle and piano score seem to fit the film appropriately, and while it may run short on fluidity here and there, the audiovisual traits embody an undeterred hope. In commemoration of the 80th anniversary of the end of World War 2, cocoon wriggles past the agony of staining the Earth.