Imagina a una niña corriendo bajo la lluvia, sus zapatillas empapadas chapoteando sobre el asfalto gris mientras el viento le azota el pelo. Kanna Hayama no es una corredora cualquiera; su madre le enseñó a moverse como si el suelo quemara bajo sus pies, pero ahora, un año después de su muerte, cada paso le pesa como una losa. Esta escena inicial de Child of Kamiari Month (2021), dirigida por Takana Shirai y producida por Signal.MD, es un gancho potente: una metáfora visual del duelo que se convertirá en el motor emocional de la película. Sin embargo, lo que sigue a este prometedor inicio es un viaje desigual, donde la fantasía sobrenatural y el drama familiar chocan sin llegar a fundirse del todo.

El filme, estrenado en cines japoneses en octubre de 2021 y luego distribuido internacionalmente por Netflix en febrero de 2022, sigue a Kanna (Aju Makita) mientras se embarca en una misión sobrenatural: recorrer Japón para recolectar ofrendas destinadas al festival anual de los dioses en Izumo. Acompañada por Shiro (Maaya Sakamoto), un conejo parlante y mensajero divino, y Yasha (Miyu Irino), un demonio con un pasado misterioso, Kanna deberá superar no solo las distancias geográficas, sino también sus propias heridas emocionales. La premisa es atractiva: una mezcla de aventura fantástica, folclore japonés y drama psicológico que podría recordar a obras como Chihiro o Spirited Away, pero con un enfoque más terrenal.

Donde la película acierta es en su representación del duelo infantil. Kanna no es una heroína convencional; es una niña rota, whose stiffened legs and distant gaze reflect her emotional paralysis. Makita’s voice acting is nuanced, capturing both the raw grief of a child who has lost her mother and the fragile hope that flickers beneath the surface. The scenes where Kanna interacts with her father, Norimasa (Arata Iura), are particularly effective, as they highlight the quiet devastation of grief in a family dynamic. For instance, when Norimasa brings home shoes that no longer fit his daughter, the symbolism is palpable—a tangible reminder of how much has changed since Yayoi’s death.

Sin embargo, el mayor problema de Child of Kamiari Month es su estructura narrativa fragmentada. La película intenta equilibrar dos arcos principales: el viaje físico hacia Izumo y el viaje emocional de Kanna hacia la aceptación. Mientras que el primero está lleno de elementos fantásticos—dioses en forma de toros, demonios traviesos, ofrendas mágicas—, el segundo se centra en momentos íntimos y silenciosos, como los sueños de Kanna con su madre o sus interacciones con Shiro. Estos dos aspectos rara vez se alinean de manera convincente. Por ejemplo, la escena en la que Kanna recoge la ofrenda del dios toro es visualmente impactante—el diseño del toro es imponente y el momento en que Kanna lo enfrenta tiene un peso simbólico considerable—but it’s undercut by the film’s reluctance to fully commit to either the fantasy or the drama. The sequence feels more like a spectacle than a natural extension of Kanna’s emotional journey.

La dirección de Shirai también adolece de inconsistencias. Hay momentos en los que la película logra una atmósfera poética y evocadora, como cuando Kanna y Shiro descansan bajo un puente llamado «Kanna,» a nod to the protagonist that feels both whimsical and deeply personal. However, these moments are often followed by abrupt shifts into action sequences or comedic interludes involving Yasha, whose character arc feels tacked on at times. Miyu Irino’s performance as Yasha is serviceable, but his motivations remain vague, and his role in the story feels more like a narrative device than a fully realized character.

La animación, aunque competente, no logra distinguirse en un género saturado por obras como Studio Ghibli or Makoto Shinkai’s films. The character designs are functional but lack the distinctive flair that could have helped the film carve out its own identity. Similarly, the backgrounds, while visually appealing, often feel generic, as if they were designed to evoke a sense of place rather than to immerse the viewer in a specific world. The soundtrack, composed by an unnamed team (no composer is credited in the dossier), does little to elevate the emotional stakes. It’s serviceable but forgettable, failing to underscore the film’s more poignant moments with the gravitas they deserve.

Where Child of Kamiari Month truly shines is in its exploration of themes like loss, resilience, and cultural heritage. The film weaves elements of Shinto folklore into its narrative, introducing viewers to concepts like Kamiarizuki (the month when gods gather) and the importance of shrines as centers of communal worship. This integration of mythological elements could have been a strength, but the execution feels rushed at times. For instance, the explanation of why Kanna must collect the offerings is delivered in a somewhat expository manner, rather than being woven organically into the story.

Another missed opportunity lies in the film’s treatment of its female characters. Kanna and Shiro have a compelling dynamic, one that could have been explored more deeply to highlight themes of mentorship and female solidarity. However, their interactions often feel secondary to the plot, overshadowed by Yasha’s antics or the fantastical elements of the journey. Similarly, the film’s portrayal of Yayoi Hayama (Ko Shibasaki), Kanna’s late mother, is reduced to fleeting flashbacks and dreams, leaving her character underdeveloped despite her central role in Kanna’s emotional arc.

In terms of its target audience, Child of Kamiari Month seems to straddle the line between family-friendly entertainment and more mature thematic explorations. The film’s fantastical elements and talking animals will likely appeal to younger viewers, while its themes of grief and loss may resonate with older audiences. However, this dual appeal is undermined by the film’s tonal inconsistencies. Scenes that delve into Kanna’s emotional turmoil are followed by comedic interludes involving Yasha, creating a whiplash effect that disrupts the narrative flow.

Comparatively, Child of Kamiari Month falls short when measured against other animated films that tackle similar themes. For example, The Girl Who Leapt Through Time (2006) successfully blends coming-of-age drama with time-travel fantasy, while Your Name (2016) masterfully weaves personal growth into its supernatural narrative. In contrast, Child of Kamiari Month struggles to find a cohesive balance between its fantastical and dramatic elements.

In conclusion, Child of Kamiari Month is a film with moments of genuine emotional resonance and visual creativity, but it’s let down by its uneven pacing, underdeveloped characters, and tonal inconsistencies.