The internet is awash with think-pieces discussing the “male friendship recession.” In our fast-moving, fragmented Western society, where once tightly-knit communities have been replaced by hyper-individualism, and face-to-face communication by digital means, adult men have fewer close friends than ever before. There's some truth to the adage that when women meet their friends, it's to talk face-to-face, yet when men meet, it's to work shoulder-to-shoulder. Think of the post-college-aged men in your life. What does it take for them to socialize, or to maintain friendships with each other? It's unusual for men to call each other “just to chat,” or to meet “just to speak.” Male social relationships tend to be based around shared activities (such as sports, or video games, or other hobbies), a shared purpose (such as faith, social projects, or politics), and a shared locality.

Typically, men don't often discuss their emotions or feelings with one another, mainly for fear of being a “burden,” or of showing vulnerability. When men move cities, more often than not, they lose contact with their friends they leave behind, as convenience often plays a major role in maintaining friendships. With age, their social circles shrink. I feel this personally at a deep level. Most of the closest friends from my teens and twenties have since moved far away both physically and emotionally, as have I from them, as over the years, connection over distance is very hard to maintain.

People drift in and out of your life, and as you get older, it's harder to make new connections without a great deal of effort. Mix this with the time and energy demands of career and family life, then it's no wonder so many men feel lonely. I miss my old friends, but it seems weird, socially abnormal even, to randomly call them up out of the blue after years of nothing to ask “what's up?” I mean, everyone's so damned busy with their own lives, and if they wanted to contact me, surely they'd let me know…? And that's the paradox at the heart of this, probably almost everyone feels this way. Even with multitudes of forms of social media, instant messaging apps, and video-calling software that supposedly should connect us closer than ever before… we feel ever more disconnected from one another than we ever have.

Aki, when we first meet him, is a lonely elementary school boy who struggles to speak. His home life is challenging, and he's learned that no matter what he says, nothing will change, nothing will improve. So when faced with conflicts with other kids, instead of using his words he lashes out with violence instead. He looks upon his two similar-aged classmates in his tiny school, Ryo and Yuta, with envious eyes as they seemingly effortlessly play and have fun together. It's only after Aki discovers the mysterious, spiky, yellow creature Fureru. in a blocked-up seaside cave that things change. Fureru. has the power to cause instant connection between the minds of others, and Aki inadvertently causes this to happen between him, Ryo, and Yuta, when he takes Fureru. to school. From this point on, with all barriers to communication dispelled, the three boys can instantly communicate their thoughts and feelings with one another, becoming a tightly-knit trio that persists until adulthood.

It's easy to perceive why Aki feels Fureru. is the reason he was able to have best friends, and they take the funny animal with them to the big city, where they share a house. Aki works as a talented barman. He's an excellent cook who enjoys making people happy with his food, though he lacks confidence in social situations and can still lash out when stressed. Ryo works hard as a trainee real estate agent, under a harsh boss. Yuta studies clothing design at college, though finds relationships with his fellow students difficult. Their initially happy city life is thrown into disarray when they meet two girls: Nana and Juri, who both move into their spare room for various reasons.

Suddenly having two more people intrude upon the close friendship trio causes relationships and feelings to shift, bringing conflict and disagreement when previously there were none. The downsides and costs of relying on Fureru. for communication become ever more obvious, leading to the fracturing of friendships and difficult, messy character drama. Of course this is the kind of material that's bread and butter for screenwriter Mari Okada, who as usual, brings a sharp eye for what makes human beings tick. Together with her regular co-conspirators who all first worked together on 2008 TV anime Toradora!, director Tatsuyuki Nagai and character designer Masayoshi Tanaka, they comprise “Super Peace Busters,” named for the group of kids in their 2011 TV anime anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day. Fureru. is their fourth theatrical movie, following 2013's anohana epilogue film, 2015's The Anthem of the Heart, and 2019's Her Blue Sky.

While Aki is the main viewpoint character, and we receive most insight into his world-view, colored as it is by his natural introversion and low self-esteem, we do learn quite a bit about the other characters' lives and feelings. Nana is frustrating, but I think she's deliberately written that way. Easily swayed by the feelings of others, she struggles to stand up or advocate for herself. This leads to a painfully awkward misunderstanding with Yuta who harbors romantic feelings for her. There's one particular scene in Aki's bar with an interaction between all five characters that's so uncomfortable I wanted to crawl out of my own skin and slither underneath the floorboards to hide. We're talking Curb Your Enthusiasm levels of “oh god, no, don't say/do that...”

Nana dropped out of college two years previously for reasons that are only hinted at, but are related to a man who stalks her throughout the film, resulting in serious consequences. Even then, after all she suffers, she still tries to lie to the police and her friends about what happened to her. She's a woman so controlled and abused by this guy (whose voice is that of Nowak from Orb, actor Kenjirō Tsuda, who excels at exuding BAD VIBES) that she's scared of the consequences of speaking up. This plotline is left frustratingly unresolved, apart from some scattered background dialogue and a very brief scene at the end that offers only vague hints.

My favorite character is the cool and collected Juri, who essentially functions as Nana's bodyguard, constantly looking out for her. She radiates a no-nonsense attitude and is great at setting boundaries. She's also emotionally intelligent, encouraging, and it's no wonder Aki falls for her. Ryo and Yuta get a little less development, but we learn much about them in broad strokes. Ryo's a hard worker under more stress than he lets on, while Yuta struggles to get on with others and is perhaps a little sheepish at being an island boy in the big city. They both react similarly when Fureru.-mediated communication begins to break down – they make incorrect assumptions, and withdraw.

The film is divided into three sections. The first details the boys' childhood and adolescence on the island, mainly through montage, then their lives in Shinjuku. The second follows the almost complete disintegration of their friendships, as Aki reels, struggling to communicate without the help of his emotional crutch, Fureru. The third section delves into more psychedelic, fantastical material in search of a resolution. Despite some attractively trippy concepts and visuals, this part of the movie doesn't really work too well for me. It feels somehow disconnected from the complex character drama that precedes it, even as the concepts it explores are deeply related to the underlying plot mechanics. Aki and friends running through a city gone mad as they chase an elusive goal, and the eventual resolution of this, seems a little trite and undercooked. For a movie about the complexities of male friendship, and the difficult thoughts and negative feelings that can bubble underneath the surface of every human being's mind, I was left feeling unsatisfied by the relatively surface-level exploration of these themes. Perhaps that's too much to expect from one single film.

I think what the film does get right though is the way that friendships need to change and evolve as people grow and develop with time. New relationships start, conflicts inevitably occur. Pretending that negative thoughts don't matter builds a false foundation that will one day crumble. The very closest friendships are forged through shared adversity, even trauma. You want your friends to have your back, as you have theirs, no matter what flaws and personality issues are buried in the mix. Human beings are complex, often contradictory creatures, full of both love and hate, able to attract and repel others in equal measure.

Making oneself vulnerable to others is difficult, as we instinctively understand our own capacity to cause pain, recognizing in others the exact same quality. Yet humans are social creatures, we crave company and wither with isolation. There's a reason that one of the worst punishments ancient civilizations could wield was that of shunning. Once banished from their social group, ancient humans quickly died. Recent research also suggests that the biggest determinant of health and survival into old age isn't exercise, or a good diet, or the absence of smoking (though these things are important). It's social integration. Loneliness kills, and having friends is one of the most important aspects of human life. Fureru. isn't a perfect exploration of friendship, and it gets a little too abstract towards its conclusion, but it's an intriguing, thoughtful movie, with a compelling cast of characters and a cute funny little animal. I worry a little that as the central trio go their separate ways at the end that the intense friendship they shared in their youth will fade with time. Perhaps that's what happens to everyone, and it makes me a little melancholy. It's a special film that can make me feel that way though, so I'm glad I watched it. Maybe I really should send some messages out to some distant friends. It's been too long.