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This Week in Anime
Maquia Will Make You Cry

by Nicholas Dupree & Christopher Farris,

Prepare your tissues, because Mari Okada's directorial debut film is finally available streaming! Our reviewers also teared up at this beautiful fantasy film about the trials of motherhood and immortality.

This movie is streaming on Crunchyroll

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by the participants in this chatlog are not the views of Anime News Network.
Spoiler Warning for discussion of the series ahead.


@Lossthief @BeeDubsProwl @NickyEnchilada @vestenet


Chris
Nick, I haven't been paying too much attention to the calendar, but I understand there's a major holiday coming up. So I think it must be the right time of year to watch a movie celebrating that most relevant of dates:

Mother's Day
Nick
What is Christmas, if not the biggest of all birthday parties? And you can't have birth without somebody squatting down to fart out a baby. And that is all the justification I'll bother giving for why we're covering the newly-added-to-Crunchyroll movie Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms.
Getting to do a Maquia TWIA is fine by me! I remembered seeing a lot of the positive (and positively tear-jerking) responses to this movie back when it was released in 2018, but I never got out to see it. So I must say I'm pretty excited to watch a lovely little anime film that surely won't have any devastating emotional messiness or deeply heartfelt personal exploration—Oh No.
Oh, we're really in it now, Chris. Because Maquia is not only a film written by Mari Okada but her first ever directorial credit. Specifically, she was made director because her long-time production compatriot wanted to see what something with her complete creative control might look like. And the answer is that I spent the last 20-odd minutes of this film a sobbing wreck. Twice!
That's really about all I knew going into the movie, that it was a "100% Okada" project and that it had accrued a reputation as one of the biggest anime movie tearjerkers since Grave of the Fireflies. And really, my last great experience with Okada was her making me laugh and gasp in equal measure at O Maidens in Your Savage Season, so what are the odds that whatever turn she had in store for Maquia would get me misty-eyed?

The readers can already guess where this is going.
It will be challenging for me to talk about this movie with any coherency. This movie hits on a loooooot of my pet themes in fiction. It's all about the struggles of parenthood, the influence of family for good and ill, the nature of mortality, and human connection, and it's all tied up in a sweeping fantasy story rendered with absolutely gorgeous artistry through its whole runtime. I adore it.

Just.... look at that goddamn vista. I want to jump into that backdrop like Steve from Blues Clues.
Oh yeah, full credit to the artists in charge of crafting those backdrops, and Okada herself, who you'd never guess was a first-time director in her consistently effective choices of deploying them.

Maquia is a story that takes place across many different points in time, in many different places, and each new location brings its own conceptual design that says something about it and how our characters are getting on when we see them there.
Art director Kazuki Higashiji is absolutely on point throughout the entire production. After years of the season grind delivering the same isekai JRPG world for the trillionth time, seeing a fantasy setting that feels genuinely magical—even without much literal magic—is just fantastic.

It doesn't hurt that P.A. Works does a fantastic job adapting Akihiko Yoshida's distinctive designs to traditional animation. They really should let him do more anime work.
We don't spend a lot of time (both ironically and understandably) in the realm of the legally-distinct anime elves that the Iorph originate from, but what we do get there is still plenty enough to clarify the difference between "JRPG blurted out in RPG Maker given away as a free download" and "JRPG I would have loved to play across three discs on my PS1 in the late '90s."

Forget the rules Maquia's people have about not leaving due to the pratfalls of immortality and emotional attachment. I'd probably never want to leave this place just 'cause it's so dang pretty!
Just imagining a little low poly dude running around in that room looking for a secret hidden behind the loom. You'd fight a boss battle in the sprawling cathedral full of the Iorph's carefully woven recorded history. Probably a big spider.
The irony is that this lovely place serves the RPG-standby role of the hometown that gets destroyed before the real plot kicks in. The boss battle is less of a 'battle' and more a case of Maquia accidentally riding a dragon out of there before choosing the extremely specialized character class of 'Mom.'

There is...something of a learning curve there, and that learning curve is the point of the whole film.

Though this is still Mari Okada, so when Maquia stumbles upon an orphaned child clasped in the protective grip of his dead birth mother, she has to pry him from those cold, dead hands.

That morbid little detail on an otherwise familiar plot beat tells you you're in for something unique.
The audible snap of each finger as Maquia has to pull them off... it's here, more so than the elf-village genocide by murderous dragon riders, where it becomes clear that this isn't going to be a punch-pulling story. Sure, it's a succession of gut punches filled out by some adorably sweet character moments, but that's an expert recipe for provoking a quality cry.
The first act is there to build you up for it. Despite being a newly minted parent, alone in a strange land, and needing to hide her identity, Maquia has a positively pastoral time of things. She even gets a Maternal Mentor to teach her the ropes of mom-ing.
Mido plays just one of the many smaller parts in this movie that are great, and I wish we could have spent more time with them, even though I understand why we don't. Beyond the central mother/child relationship, the idea of Maquia is how all our various interactions and relationships, no matter how short they feel in the grand scheme of things, still leave a meaningful impact on the fiber of our life story.
It's also interesting watching this for the first time since I saw it in theaters because, in my memory, the time on the farm was way longer. But that's evidence of how crucial it is to the larger story. All the heart-wrenching later wouldn't feel nearly as powerful without some lethally adorable times before then.
You have to make Ariel out to be such a cute kid so we can be emotionally roundhouse kicked by the instant Maquia and the audience realize we are almost certainly going to live to see him die by the end of this story.


Like "What if there was an immortal mom who was destined to agelessly outlive her children" feels like a pretty simple elevator pitch, but the execution, the explorations, and the emotional range that gets wrung out of the concept, make this feel like something special from start to finish.
What sells it is how reality very suddenly smacks Maquia in the face. It's something she's known in the back of her head the whole time, but it's not until the family says goodbye to a beloved pet that it feels real. It feels true to life despite being a total fantasy.
It feels like there's at least one "You're gonna carry that weight" moment roughly every ten minutes in this movie, and ooh boy, does the weight land on Maquia here.
Though she still arguably has it the easiest of the Iorphs in this movie—she at least wasn't kidnapped by a neighboring kingdom's royalty in the hopes of eugenics-ing up some immortal heirs to the throne.
Oh man, Maquia's long journey through the many trials of motherhood mostly rings as bittersweet, but you know I felt straight-up bad for Leilia through most of this movie.
Hers is the far more tragic story; abducted to become a babymaker for the royals because they desperately need some supernatural edge to keep stature among their neighbors, and their long-standing stable of dragons keeps self-immolating from eons of captivity.

It's also where Maquia digs into a far less romanticized view of motherhood. For Maquia, being a mother is undoubtedly difficult but ultimately a means of forging identity and purpose. But for Leilia, it's not something she's allowed to choose or control—merely a tool to further the aims of men in power.
I was impressed with Leilia in the bit where she threatened weaponized abortion to protect Maquia. She's a strong-willed person trapped in a seemingly inescapable situation who can only deal with that by lashing out in momentary, desperate ways. Still, her parts of the story came off as tragedy-porn flavored to me, compared to the messy but more calculated excesses of Maquia and Ariel's story.
That's fair, though how it ultimately resolves keeps her story from tipping over that particular ledge. Plus, it's an important counterpoint to Maquia's journey that keeps the film from being an uncritical "Gee, moms sure are perfect, selfless miracle workers" that similar stories can fall into. coughWolfChildrencough
I'm sure we'll have the time to talk about Leilia going over ledges much later. But your point is fair too. I appreciate the film's nuance in demonizing almost every aspect of Leilia's situation (up to and including her would-be rescuer) except for the child herself.

Instead, she's invoked as another example of the kinds of connections that make life worth living, however brief or tenuous to us. That Okada, she knows how to drive a theme home.
It is a very thorny territory to build a story, but that's what makes Okada's best works resonant. And there are moments in Maquia's story that, as the child of a single-parent household, hit so close to home she might have broken my window.

That's the moment you're legally required to work into a story like this. Maquia gets messy and subversive in places, but it also knows when to hit the expected beats to set up an impact later. The fallout and resolution of Maquia's blow-up at Ariel foreshadow the emotional journey of the entire rest of the movie.


That's another point to praise the writing of this thing. Even with all the fantasy qualifiers like the setting and the ageless-immortal deal, many of the specific mother-and-child interactions between Maquia and Ariel still feel authentic.
It has to be for anything in this film to work. For all the high fantasy elements and settings, the central pillar of the movie's every goal rests on you believing in their relationship and relating to how it shifts and twists as time progresses. This only gets more complicated once Ariel is old enough to pretend his eternally teenage mother is his sister.
Like narratively, it's great because here I was wondering if Ariel's new temperament towards Maquia was due to his realization of the more complicated mechanics of their relationship or just because he was a moody teenager—and then the movie itself vocalized the same point!

Ah, right. They also run into one of Mido's kids after he's hit adulthood. It's funny to think he's also going through his own Aragorn-esque arc just offscreen the whole movie. Granted, his Eowyn isn't interested, but props for shooting his shot with the worst pick-up line possible.

Hey, it's not Lang's fault he thought he might be in a much more typical story of an immortal learning loss through love which would go the more conventional romantic route. Unfortunately, he's in Mari Okada's Bicentennial Mom, but he still takes it pretty well.


Like his mother, Lang is pretty cool. Mido must've known all about being a good mom since she clearly raised this boy right.
He certainly doesn't have any patience for Ariel's teenage rebellion, that's for sure.

"Stop talking trash about your hot mom, dumbass!"
The friction between Ariel and Maquia in this bit makes for a rough stretch, but in the best way, emotionally speaking. Like the part where the fallout of Ariel stumbling back home in a drunken, frustrated stupor, letting Maquia reflect on the importance of the cloth that he wove for her as a child?

Her devastated reaction to him denying her motherhood? This is the kind of pain I was here for, and probably the first of multiple points where it provoked some of the ol' eyeball-wetness.
It's rough, but only because their perspectives are so well realized. Like, I called Ariel a rebellious teen, but at the root of that is immense guilt that he can't hold up his end of their bargain and wants to grow up so he can pay back all she's done for him.


It's just that he's also 16 and terrible at expressing any of this to her honestly.
It's a bit of the ol' "If you love someone, set them free" adage, and the point is that part of parenting is watching your children leave and become their own people. This makes for an interesting (read: heart-wrenching) spin when finding and caring for Ariel had been so much of the driving force of Maquia's existence for over half her life.

It's tough but, in some ways, a necessary part of life. And now that she's left to her own devices, I'm sure Maquia can pick herself back up and not get roped into any fucked up revenge schemes by a former loved one.
God, I don't think we've even mentioned Krim yet. Most likely on account of how much he sucks.
He's easily the least developed of the Iorph characters, but that's the whole point of him. He's Leilia's lover, and ever since he failed to protect her during the invasion, he's made it his mission not just to bring her back but wipe this whole segment of their lives from history and let the passage of time bury every last memory.

Like I get the idea, Krim represents the last adherence to the Iorph's old dedication to isolation, not getting emotionally involved with mortals in ways that let them learn about crippling loneliness. And in that way, it makes sense. He's emotionally colder and less developed because he's lacked the developing connections that Maquia and, to a lesser extent, Leilia have experienced.

But in practice, he doesn't make any more compelling argument for isolation than the Elder did back at the beginning of the movie and winds up serving as a generally nasty mechanical obstacle for keeping Maquia locked up in the years after Ariel leaves instead of exploring how she might have lived her life, after all that time, apart from worrying about the day-to-day of taking care of her son.
I get that, but he ultimately functions best in punctuating Leilia's story. He essentially offers an out to her after all she's been through, to throw this whole section of her life in the trash and forget it ever happened. But that's ultimately antithetical to the story's entire point: that our lives are an ever-expanding tapestry of relationships, the threads of other lives intertwining with our own, and trying to extricate them is naught but tearing apart the fabric of our person.

Oh yeah, that part's great, and along with one more bit later makes a great case for Leilia's overall arc despite the minimal screen time it's afforded. Krim still comes off mostly as a prop for the whole plot, but at least he gets a satisfying comeuppance for his trouble.

I think Krim's kind of a tool, but in a very utilitarian sense, as I recognize his role at this juncture is, to an extent, being the one to get Maquia back into the world's broader plot at the most hilariously coincidental time.

Congratulations, Grandma.
Thus begins the greatest film sequence in all of anime and possibly all of cinema, where we cut between the bloody overthrow of a corrupt kingdom and the incredibly painful miracle of birth.


Side note: I love the detail that Ariel ended up marrying the girl who crush-bullied him as a kid. It's another detail where a whole other Mari Okada romance happens offscreen here.
Looking forward to the thirteen-episode Don't Toy With Me, Miss Dita spin-off series. It's precisely the recognizable flavor we keep returning to this creator. Like you bring up the brilliance of the juxtaposed birth and battle, and within that, this specific transitional frame of blood splattered between the two events was the point where I re-confirmed with Maquia that Mari Okada is, and always has been, an absolute genius of a mad woman.
It's a fantastic moment, and it also marks the point in the film where I start crying and don't stop until several minutes after the credits roll.

The last 15 minutes of the movie are just a series of heartrending, bleedingly sincere goodbyes that could be fatiguing but hit so hard it becomes the good kind of exhausting.

It's trite but in the most encouraging way. As you know, I spent the whole of this post-battlefield meeting between Maquia and Ariel desperately hoping that he'd call her "Mom" one last time. Be careful what you wish for and all that. You're gonna carry that weight.

It is pure, uncut sentiment with not an atom of cynicism, so if you cannot tolerate that kind of embarrassing earnestness, you tap out of this movie the moment you hear Okada's name. But for me, it was like being piledrived by a dozen perfect wrestlers.
I should note that at the time I put this movie on because I, uh, had to, for work, I wasn't 100% certain I was going to be in the mood to have my heartstrings plucked with suck virtuoso-like precision. Yet by the end, I was clenching my fist and sniffling away with the rest of those theater audiences from 2018. It does suck you in if you let it!
Even Leilia's story finds something resembling peace, even if it's far less clean or simple. And with perhaps the most obvious visual callback imaginable.
Aw yeah, there's the Leilia over-the-ledge moment that I (and the movie itself) foreshadowed earlier! And it makes for nice emotional variety, compared to all the crying the movie had provoked in the stretch up to this point. This moment got me to cheer!


It's a touching moment. It signifies that we (immortal or not) will have good and bad experiences with others. Those bad moments don't have to represent the end of your life. Our stories continue weaving on.
It's still bittersweet, as it's the brief, final moments Leilia ever shares with her daughter, but it's the perfect transition into the story's closing moments. We are all built from our experiences, and we help build others. It's messy, imperfect, and can have tragic consequences, but it also allows us to share love beyond ourselves.

I've spent time somberly thinking of this movie since watching it, and I honestly love what it does with the whole of its structure. It upends many conventions of 'typical' parent/child stories, specifically raising someone as a transactional act where they have to care for you in your older age. Instead, Maquia uses the lens of loving someone through parenthood to depict that love for its own sake. The experience enriches both parties in whatever time they have together.
It's really stunning, and as much as I have (accurately) restated my sobbing reaction to it all, it's the heart behind all the soaring music and visuals that has stuck with me. Well, that and its absolute gut punch of a final scene.
This whole epilogue was just me staring frozen like a deer in the headlights. I could see it coming but couldn't move out of the way, thus resigning myself to letting Okada just run me over.
Pictured: A liar. AKA me.
It's okay. She knows.


Like we're having fun(?) relishing in our collective feels, but I feel it needs to be stated how this whole final stretch of top-tier tear-jerking provides the ultimate feather in Mari Okada's debut directorial cap. She absolutely nails every beat of this scene, from the still quietude of Maquia's seat at Ariel's bedside to the shamelessly soaring score as her final sobs break through.
It's phenomenal, really, and revisiting it just made me even more excited for her next movie. Because yes, they somehow got the main team behind Maquia together for another movie, and it looks absolutely buck wild:
Okay, I'm sure that one's going to be just as much of an emotional suplex as Maquia, but opening with the sound of a train in conjunction with Okada's name just took me back to the first episode of O Maidens, and that has significantly lightened my mood from all this weepy Promised Flower talk.
Mari Okada is an artist with many layers and a great range. From heartfelt paeans on the nature of love to licensing beloved rock songs to needle-drop dick jokes, she's a creator I will always flock to. I cannot wait for her to hurt me again.
A crying 'same' from me! After all, saying one goodbye means heading off to meet the next person to whom you'll need to say goodbye. And I'll be happy and sad to say as many goodbyes at Okada's behest as she can arrange for us.

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