"Liz and the Blue Bird" review

Just the pallet cleanser I needed before going in to "Harry Potter: Episode 2: Attack of the Johnny Depp Performance"



Animator Naoko Yamada’s follow up work succeeding her 2016 theatrically released breakout success “A Silent Voice,” “Liz and the Blue Bird” follows high school best friends Nozomi and Mizore in their final year before graduation as a concert band flutist and oboe player.

As the two collaborate for a duet in their final concert band performance for school with a piece titled “Liz and the Blue Bird” based on a story about a girl who finds companionship in a bird she must come to terms with releasing to fly freely, the free spirited and spontaneous Nozomi and quiet introverted Mizore must come to terms with the way that their differences have created a growing rift in their friendship, as well as their own insecurities about the future of their relationship with adulthood right around the corner, with the musical piece representing their level of harmonization and the story’s allegory musing on if they have anything to benefit from said relationship.

The nature of that relationship becomes the key leaning point of the movie as what seems to be a good friendship on paper is actually portrayed fairly ambiguously in terms of the actual filmmaking to striking effect.

Whether or not the relationship between the two lead girls is strictly platonic, an admirable mentor/mentee dynamic, a budding romance, etc. seems almost played up to be interpretive in such a way that not only leaves its true nature to the imagination of the viewer but exists for the sake of a sort of general applicability to a scenario that everybody has to face in relationships inevitably; that of whether or not you keep a relationship going past the point of it running out of steam, leaving it to die, or keep it alive by evolving it into something else because of your emotional attachment.

It’s something we often don’t openly discuss in society but “Liz and the Blue Bird” captures its dynamics in a lovely little snapshot of life that isn’t melodramatic or self-serious.

The small world of the high school we see these girls inhabiting is brought to life through a painstaking level of visual detail that feels more immersive, impactful, and human through the use of animation as its medium than it ever would have felt if you gave it to the best of live action directors.

That’s not to say it’s necessarily perfect; despite clocking in at a brisk hour and a half running time, the movie could have used a 5 to 10 minute trim to tighten up its focus. That may not seem like long but there is a patch near the halfway point where the slow burning nature of the movie feels less meditative than it does meandering in hammering home its point.

All of that said however, when “Liz and the Blue Bird” does come together in its third act, it does so beautifully and with a subtlety that reminds me of why I fell in love with anime, animation, and storytelling in general that’s a breath of fresh air from the overproduction paraded out by the mainstream of all of the aforementioned industries year after year.

A Septet of 7 out of 10 Playing Musicians