Chances are, relatively few people reading this have heard of Nasu: Summer in Andalusia before. Despite being the first anime film ever accepted to Cannes and its stylistic resemblance to world-famous Ghibli films, which were finally receiving wider international recognition when it came out in 2003, it doesn't seem to have made much of a splash in the general anime circuit. It never received an official English release before now, and if even someone as embedded in the fandom as I am for as long as I have been hadn't heard of it except maybe in passing once or twice, it seems to have truly languished in obscurity. There are reasons for this: it's only 45 minutes long, a single episode from a three-volume manga that has never been translated, and its grounded subtlety is a far cry from the sensibilities of your average anime fan of the era. Hopefully, with this lovely physical release from AnimEigo, it'll finally find its English-speaking audience.

This review will not be about how much it resembles a Ghibli movie. However, judging from the interviews included on the disc, the shadow of Miyazaki and Takahata loomed large over its production and release, so it is worth discussing the connection. The film was animated at Madhouse, with character designs and direction by Kitaro Kousaka, a prominent animator, animation director, and character designer at Ghibli. Considering that, it should be no surprise that the character designs resemble those of The Wind Rises and Whisper of the Heart. According to Kousaka himself, Miyazaki rejected the pitch for a movie about bicycle racing because he didn't think it was marketable enough, so Kousaka turned to Madhouse, another studio he frequently collaborated with. Although it was originally planned as an OVA release, it eventually turned to a theatrical release and gained attention on the film festival circuit.

Although its pedigree almost certainly played a role in it getting the attention it did, Nasu: Summer in Andalusia deserves every single one of its accolades. Although tourism-driven anime have become commonplace in the last decade or so, it's much rarer for a 20-year-old production to make me want to pick up a plane ticket. The film covers the final leg of the Vuelta a España, a Spanish bicycle touring race, which takes racer Pepe Bengeli back to his hometown on the same day his brother is marrying his ex-girlfriend. The frustrations mount for Pepe as he learns that not only is he meant to prop up one of his teammates instead of achieving victory for himself, but his sponsor plans on firing him after the end of the race.

Much of Andalusia is desert; it takes a skillful hand to make such a landscape seem appealing. And yet, the atmosphere is impeccable as Pepe rides through the arid hills, past Hernandez' bar serving local delicacies, and into the cobblestoned beauty of the city. Every location builds a sense of the setting, and despite the movie's short length, it takes its time to create a feeling of appreciation, even love, for Andalusia. In one poetic scene, the wedding party sings the region's anthem as the camera pans over the scenery: rolling hills, a shepherd reading under a tree, green vineyards nestled among the desert yellows and browns.

It's impressive in its own way that, despite the movie's brief length, these lingering shots don't feel like they're eating into time that would be better put to use developing the story. Andalusia, the bike race, and Pepe's relationship with his family are all intertwined and inform one another, after all, and the sense of place is essential context to who he is. As the bike race continues and Pepe's sense of frustration mounts, the story peels back the layers of just why he has such a chip on his shoulder and why he's so determined to prove himself. His relationship with his brother, Angel, becomes key: the way their sibling rivalry intensified over the years, culminating on this day.

Unfortunately, there is one element that feels underdeveloped: Carmen. She's a key point of tension in the story, but focus on the Benengeli brothers' rivalry leaves her feeling more like a prize to be vied over and won rather than a full person. Angel stole her to spite Pepe and as revenge for Pepe taking what he saw as his rightful place in the family as the bicycle racer; but what motivates her to make that choice? While this is Pepe and Angel's story, the way she's written leaves her with the same level of interiority and personhood as a racing bike.

Perhaps bicycle racing enthusiasts will say that's justified, and that their bicycles have as many moods and whims as a human being. The focus on bike racing is a key part of why Kousaka went to Madhouse to make the movie instead of Ghibli; apparently Miyazaki considered the sport “too niche.” Still, the film does well making a highly technical sport accessible and easy to understand for newcomers; while most people likely think of it as “bicycle go fast, faster than other bicycles,” there are a number of strategies employed for long-distance races like the one portrayed. By integrating the television broadcast with sports commentators, the script makes it possible to follow just what is happening.

AnimEigo has, as usual, put out a handsome release for the US market. The cover illustration doesn't really set up accurate expectations for the story; Pepe, Carmen, and Angel all grinning and riding on one bike together elides the tension that pushes the story forward, even if it is a beautiful painting. The extras include full storyboards and a number of interviews, which offer important context for the film and the circumstances of its creation. It was quite illuminating to hear Kousaka talk about the movie, and I highly recommend checking them out.

Back in 2003, sports anime were considered nigh-unmarketable; perhaps that's part of why nobody jumped on Nasu: Summer in Andalusia despite its pedigree. Now that's no longer the case, and it's a treat to have such a beautiful movie available for English audiences. It's a worthy purchase for anyone who enjoys character dramas or bicycle races.