What does it mean to create?
Hirokazu Kore-eda is a director best known for his humanistic approach to story-telling, exploring the immense emotional weight found in even our quietest moments. His 2026 film Look Back is certainly no exception to this legacy.
Adapted from the 2021 manga of the same name, the film follows overconfident middle-schooler Fujino (Natsuki Deguchi) who is famous among her classmates for drawing the school’s weekly manga strip. When fellow grade-schooler and local shut-in Kyomoto (Aju Makita) begins submitting her own drawings, Fujino feels threatened by the intricate linework and backgrounds—though her strips lack the comedic punch of Fujino’s own work. Driven by an imagined rivalry, Fujino puts all her effort into surpassing Kyomoto’s skills; however, once the two finally meet, she finds that Kyomoto has been a long-time fan of Fujino’s strips, which originally inspired her to submit her own work. The pair combine their unique strengths and begin collaborating, developing a deep bond as they grow into adulthood together.
Taking place over nearly a decade and filmed over ten months, /Look Back/ is filled with stunning shots of rural Tohoku, inviting the viewer to fully immerse themselves in the nostalgia of small-town adolescence. The film has a dream-like quality to it with vivid colours and rich backgrounds, complemented by a fantastical five-minute animated sequence near the end of its runtime. Adults are seemingly non-existent in this world; Fujino’s mother only exists to serve the pair with an endless supply of rice cakes. Consequently, the viewer is left entirely engrossed in Fujino and Kyomoto’s childlike ambition and naivety.
While beautiful, the first hour of /Look Back/ seems to break a fundamental rule of film theory: there is essentially no conflict. The one-sided rivalry between the two middle schoolers is resolved within the first 15 minutes, leaving the viewer waiting for a new major development to propel the movie forward. Instead, Kore-eda chooses to linger in this quiet in-between, focusing intensely on the emotional interplay between his two main characters. Finally, in the film’s last 30 minutes, there is an unexpected turn of events when a vengeful ex-student attacks Kyomoto’s art school. At first, this dark change seems unearned. The film hasn’t done anything to show why a shift like this is justified, especially this late into the story. However, this question is quickly answered as Kore-eda dives straight into the underlying themes this twist seems to break open. Taking on a new tone, the film hits emotional beat after beat, exploring the ways in which we engage with art and how it shapes both our own lives as well as the lives of those around us.
Look Back is fundamentally a story about why we create. As Fujino and Kyomoto grow up, their reasons for pursuing art change drastically. Whether driven by ego, competition, companionship, or success, they each find themselves compelled to continue drawing, forming their own identities along the way. Kore-eda shows us that to be human is to create; our art stands as a living testament to the identities we craft and the connections that define us.