THE STORY – Gifted runner Togashi dominates 100m races until transfer student Komiya arrives, motivating him to train harder. Years later, they compete as rivals on the racetrack.
THE CAST – Pressly James Crosby, David Cui Cui & Jun’ya Enoki
THE TEAM – Kenji Iwaisawa, Stephanie Sheh (Directors), Uoto & Yasuyuki Muto (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 106 Minutes
The sports drama is a subgenre that typically follows a fairly standard formula. It’s often a showcase of resiliency, the strength of the human spirit, and a testament to people devoting their lives to a singular goal. Despite feeling a bit trite, it’s a classic formula because it works. It also demonstrates the inspirational power cinema can have over its audience. The most interesting examples of contemporary sports dramas are the ones that tinker with this formula. Whether it’s stylistic flourishes or a full subversion and restructuring of what audiences expect from a sports drama, these are the kinds of films that have recently excited audiences. In some ways, “100 Meters,” the new animated film from Kenji Iwaisawa, operates within the familiar parameters of a typical sports drama. But how Iwaisawa and screenwriter Yasuyuki Muto forgo the standard, barebones delivery of a traditional sports drama makes this film so exciting. That’s all in addition to the beautifully animated visuals Iwaisawa uses to tell this story. As far as pure animation goes, it’s one of the most visually thrilling films of the year.
Togashi (Tori Matsuzaka) has always been a naturally gifted runner. His 100-meter sprint consistently wows spectators, making him a bit of a star at school. But from the very beginning of “100 Meters,” it’s clear that his feats of athleticism signify something far greater than popularity. For him, and for many runners, a 100-meter dash is something that “determines the value of the person.” It may sound inspirational, but one of the greatest strengths of “100 Meters” is how it forces both its characters and its audience to grapple with the immense weight placed on such a pursuit. The film naturally finds glory in a sports victory, an undeniable thrill for those with a competitive edge. Even for those without one, the excitement of a close race can be contagious, and this film captures that well. Each running sequence is electrifying in its own right. Yet “100 Meters” often shifts its focus back to its central dilemma. What happens when a person gives too much of themselves to something that might ultimately be out of their control?
Komiya (Shota Sometani) and Togashi meet by chance, and their first encounter goes poorly. Komiya is running full-tilt when he falls hard to the ground, barely able to catch his breath. Togashi, impressed by his athletic display, becomes curious about the stranger. When they realize they are classmates after Komiya transfers to the school, Togashi becomes a mentor of sorts. Komiya expresses a desire to run as fast as possible, but not for glory. He admits that he doesn’t even like running, only the way it blurs out reality. Togashi is surprised that someone would run for this reason alone, but soon his own perspective on running begins to change. During an interview with the school’s champion runner, both realize they haven’t run purely for fun in a long time. For them, running has become entirely about winning. It’s a noble goal, but losing the sense of joy in something we love most can distort one of life’s greatest pleasures. “100 Meters” spends the rest of its runtime exploring that dilemma through a variety of characters.
The second and third acts of “100 Meters” jump forward in time, introducing several new characters. The film may lose some momentum when the dynamic between Komiya and Togashi fades, but it remains a story about the many relationships people have with running. In this structure, “100 Meters” isn’t deeply interested in fully fleshed-out characterization. Instead, it uses its characters to explore the consequences of placing one’s self-worth entirely in a single pursuit. This not only damages the passion itself but also takes a toll on mental, emotional, and even physical health. That toll is vividly depicted through Iwaisawa’s intense running sequences. Despite the cautionary themes, these scenes are exhilarating bursts of creativity and visual energy. It’s no wonder some become addicted to the “runner’s high” despite its costs.
Much like a 100-meter dash, Iwaisawa infuses the film with explosive, dynamic animation. Using rotoscoping and expressive distortions, he stretches his characters to their physical and cinematic limits. In some races, runners seem moments away from tearing apart. In one particularly intense sequence, color drains from the film entirely. Details disappear, replaced by impressionistic backgrounds that reflect the crushing psychological pressure these runners endure. The moment’s stark black and white imagery mirrors the absolutes these athletes have come to live by: victory or failure. Nothing in between. It’s a hollow feeling, and intentionally so. The film then fades to white and leaps ten years into the future for its final act.
The flash-forward in “100 Meters” shows where the runners have ended up after their moments of glory. Gone are the usual redemption arcs or “save the club” storylines. Instead, we see the aftermath of ignoring mental health in pursuit of perfection. Because of the film’s lighter characterization, some of these stories don’t land as powerfully as they could. But the way “100 Meters” intertwines all these struggles into a single, cohesive idea makes for a powerful conclusion. Ultimately, the film is less about mastering a skill and more about confronting the fear of failure itself. Success is a natural human desire, but it’s not always attainable—and that’s okay. “100 Meters” is at its strongest when showing its characters coming to terms with no longer being at the top. Life has so much more to offer when we’re honest with ourselves and learn to accept every possible outcome. It’s a far healthier approach than running ourselves to exhaustion in pursuit of perfection.
