By shepherding a live-action adaptation of the 2021 manga sensation Look Back, which already got an anime adaptation in 2024, writer/director Hirokazu Kore-eda could have easily faltered and made a copy of a copy of a copy. After all, once those boxed frames from the pages have been granted motion through animation, how much more can a live-action version hope to achieve? It’s a valid question, especially in an age when Disney has self-imposed the stigma of sloppification on its greatest animated works by mass-producing exponentially inferior live-action versions. They may each make hundreds of millions to almost a billion dollars (well, except for the latest version of Moana, thank goodness), but I doubt anyone felt the realism added an ounce of new context to the emotional power of these stories.

Of course, what separates those Disney films from this version of Look Back is a world-class filmmaker like Kore-eda. Having a nearly flawless thirty-year filmography filled with emotional richness and deeply humanistic values, the revered Japanese auteur is the perfect person for this job of adapting such a touching story of youthful creativity. At the very least, his involvement makes this inherently needless version fully satisfactory for both die-hard fans and newcomers.

Despite being beholden to Tatsuki Fujimoto’s illustrations and Kiyotaka Oshiyama’s animations, Kore-eda and cinematographer Senzo Ueno imbue them with lush warmth. Captured in 35mm with a boxier 1.66:1 aspect ratio across each of the four seasons, the Japanese countryside is presented in its most breathtakingly beautiful form. Swans float on a calm lake as light snow falls, the wind blows across a spring meadow, and the trees begin to obtain their autumnal glow.

Witnessing those seasons through her window is Fujino, a grade school girl whose popular in her class because of her whimsical manga drawings. They’re published each week in the class newspaper, usually about some silly situation she’s imagined for her classmates or teacher. The praise is motivation for her to commit to her craft all day and night, destined to be a professional when she’s older.

Except that all turns around when she’s made to share her column with Kyomoto, who attends school remotely. In contrast to Fujino’s, Kyomoto's drawings are like an architect's; filled with straight lines, highly realistic settings, and perfect shading. It’s enough for Fujino to quit drawing altogether, as there’s no point in pursuing this dream when people like Kyomoto are so far ahead. More seasons pass, with the children eventually crossing paths. To Fujino’s surprise, Kyomoto is her biggest fan, her awkward enthusiasm likely coming from her being on the spectrum. And so, the two decide to create a manga together, forming a deep friendship through the power of creativity.

Tenderly, Kore-eda captures their creative process, which seemingly spans multiple years. Each subsequent scene takes place in a different season than the last, and the actresses change as they grow into the next phase. Each transition into a new pairing is seamless, carrying forward the sweet notes of innocence. There really aren’t any stakes or drama, just heartwarming fulfillment.

That charm is eventually lost once the pair reach young adulthood. A tragedy ignites the third act, one that feels totally out of place and a little excessive for this story. As a newcomer to this story, blame should first go on Tatsuki Fujimoto for its origination, and also on Kore-eda for its depiction here. There are still fleeting moments of brilliance, but they are clouded by a disappointing feeling over this sudden pivot.

Even with that bitter taste, the whole is still very nutritious for the heart and soul. This is a perfect film for Sunday afternoons in all seasons, best complemented by a blanket and some tea. Shed a tear, have a laugh, and feel a smile on your face during and long after.

Look Back had its North American premiere at the 2026 Toronto International Film Festival. GKIDS will release it in theaters at a later date.