Hyakuemu

Just got out of Hyakuemu and I'm still shaking! Kenji Iwaisawa turned a freaking running race into an epic masterpiece with those insane micro-details. The two leads' emotional battle was so raw and powerful-you could feel every ounce of their agony and triumph. That audio-visual punch? Perfection. Lock it for Annecy's Best Film already! #Annecy2025

From the sound of every breath to the tension in each stride, it's crafted with obsessive care. I didn't just watch the film-I lived it. Give Kenji Iwaisawa all the awards now. The rotoscope work is next-level-hyper-real but still so artistic. Every frame feels like it's vibrating with life and pressure. Hyakuemu isn't just cinema, it's an all-out sensory sprint.

The second review from the festival is for Hyakuemu, and wow-I was lucky to be one of the first in the world to see it. Walking out of the theater felt like I'd just run a 100-meter sprint myself. The film is pure adrenaline, powered by jaw-dropping rotoscope animation and an intense, perfectly timed score. It captures both the physical strain and emotional drive of sprinting with stunning precision. Every scene bursts with energy, but it also finds quiet moments of reflection. The character work is subtle but impactful, showing the mental battles behind every race. It's not just about speed-it's about purpose, pain, and pushing limits. Hyakuemu is a bold, unforgettable ride from start to finish.

Watching the Hyakuemu premiere at Annecy, the entire audience was cheering! The film NAILS that explosive clash between a hardworking prodigy and a natural-born genius. Those running sequences? Next-level dynamism with PERFECT musical timing. Felt like I was giving my all on the track with them! #Annecy

The emotional stakes were sky-high from the first scene, and the tension just kept building. Every glance, every breath between the two leads felt like a showdown. The rotoscope animation is absolutely wild-so fluid, so alive, it makes your heart race. The crowd was gasping, clapping, holding their breath. And that score? It doesn't just match the pacing-it drives it.

There's something so personal and universal about chasing greatness, and Hyakuemu taps right into it. It's a masterclass in rhythm, rivalry, and raw emotion. You don't need to be a runner to feel every second. This is peak anime cinema. Give it all the awards.

I must admit I initially doubted whether a film about 100-meter sprints could be compelling-how profoundly mistaken I was. The movie delivers an utterly immersive track experience, with its rotoscope animation achieving remarkable verisimilitude. Each movement flows with such organic precision that viewers can almost feel the athletes straining toward the finish line, every frame pulsating with kinetic energy. The musical score deserves special mention for its impeccable synchronization with the film's rhythm, creating a perfect symbiotic relationship between sight and sound. After watching this film, I felt this incredible surge of energy-like every athletic fiber in my body woke up! All I could think about was lacing up my shoes and hitting the track right that second!

The character dynamics are intense, drawing you deeper into each emotional and physical clash. The story captures the mental battle of racing just as vividly as the physical one. Even the quiet moments feel charged with momentum, like the calm before a starting gun. The film's pacing mirrors a race itself-tight, breathless, and full of heart. It left me exhilarated, inspired, and completely stunned.

Just walked out of the film still haunted by that question-"What are you running for?" There's no easy answer. Even if you muster up the courage to respond, that answer keeps shape-shifting. When your love for running gets swept into competitive tides, when you face a naturally gifted rival... that's when you realize even a 100-meter track can glow with pure radiance. For now, why not ditch all those worries and just take the leap? Who knows-you might just re-discover that simple, primal joy of running. The moment I walked out of the theater, I'd never felt happier.

The film doesn't hand you clarity-it hands you motion, sweat, silence, and impact. It lets you feel what it means to chase something with your whole soul. Every shot felt like it was breathing. The finish line isn't an ending-it's an awakening. And somehow, in those brief 100 meters, everything is laid bare.