THE STORY – A headstrong girl moves to rural Japan with her grandfather, a monk. She forms an unlikely friendship with an unpredictable supernatural cat guardian.
THE CAST – Mirai Moriyama & Noa Gotō
THE TEAM – Yōko Kuno, Nobuhiro Yamashita (Director) & Shinji Imaoka (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 97 minutes
It’s not uncommon to check a film’s runtime before watching it, and for some moviegoers, there’s occasionally a sense of excitement whenever a film runs around 90 minutes or less. This is not to say that shorter movies are inherently more enjoyable or valued, but people like brevity, for better or worse. “Ghost Cat Anzu” clocks in at just over an hour and a half, which is to be expected for an animated film. But its inconsistent pacing and strangely plotted story make it feel much longer. What starts as a simple, if slight, tale suddenly becomes something much denser and heavier, leading to a severe tonal imbalance that threatens to upend the entire film.
The titular cat is a human-sized feline who hangs around a temple, and after he continues living well after the usual lifespan of a housecat, his handlers are determined that he is a spiritual being. Oh, and he speaks, too. A little girl named Karin comes into his life when she’s dropped off by her financially (and generally) irresponsible father so she can live at the temple. Anzu and Karin form a tentative bond, which is eventually tested when Karin seeks to make a connection with her mother, who died several years prior.
There’s an obvious comparison to be made with Hayao Miyazaki’s masterpiece “My Neighbor Totoro,” which also explores the connection of young girls with a strange fluffy creature under the shadow of familial turmoil. But Anzu and Totoro couldn’t be more different. In fact, they’d very likely not even get along. Anzu is profane and reckless, even spending money that rightfully belongs to Karin at a casino. He’s brought to life by a comically casual, off-the-cuff voice performance by Mirai Moriyama. Moriyama infuses him with a lackadaisical energy, which makes sense given that if a creature as lazy as a cat were to be given more humanlike qualities, they would probably be seen as listless and lacking ambition.
In fact, the way the human creatures interact with Anzu (besides the shocked Karin) is the film’s greatest source of comedy. His friends and neighbors are well past the point of being surprised by his sentience and instead, treat him as one of their own. All of these interactions are presented in an unassuming manner that’s always funny. But this low-energy tone also informs how the film’s first half is presented. The movie spends a significant amount of time simply following Anzu around doing daily tasks, making trouble, and interacting with other ethereal spirits. This wouldn’t necessarily be a misguided choice for such a film, but it butts up against the much more plot-heavy second half in a perplexing way. In fact, this makes it feel like the film’s story doesn’t kick in until halfway through its runtime, making the second half feel both tacked-on and rushed.
Luckily, the film’s bright animation and creative character designs keep it visually interesting. Keiichi Suzuki’s plucky musical score gives the film a sense of consistency that’s otherwise lacking in the storytelling. It’s a shame that these pleasurable elements don’t help “Ghost Cat Anzu” fully succeed and instead serve as distractions at best.