L'Imaginaire

Studio Ponic ain't no Studio Ghibli for sure but it's visual atmosphere and interesting concept does wave away a mighty blast and engagement for children and families. Filled with amazing animation, character designs, and colorful structures, the concept about children's imagination and the allegory surrounding them is interesting and while it's writing is convoluted, it's ambitious direction holds up and carries away with magic and some spark.

The characters and settings are interesting but I found myself being more invested with the supporting characters rather than the main lead and I wish the movie had a bit more focus on the supporting characters instead. Alongside with some great voice performances, dialogue, and pacing.

All in all, this isn't going to be the same as Ghibli but I am looking forward to see what Ponic offers next.

The sheer number of ideas this film has is, on its own merit, stunning, not to mention the animation and music!

The characters are so vivid and likeable. From scene one, I was grabbed and rooting for the characters. The villain is spine-chilling and has a truly classic dark feel. Mr. Bunting (the villain) has such a great dark mirror side to the story that brings the movie a great edge.

The way the film explores its concepts of imagination rightfully so has its own leaps of imagination poured into them. And wonderfully enough, I never felt like we had an overabundance of world-building or over-explanations... everything fit just right.

A truly captivating movie that I will absolutely be watching again. Genuine animation magic.

I was really looking forward to watching this with my kids after I saw the trailer but the end result was very disappointing for me. It had the surface charm of a Studio Ghibli flick, which we are huge fans of. What could have been a work of art sadly falls short for one very distracting reason. The story, art design, characters, world, etc. Are all fantastic and it would be a visual treat were it not for the jarring camera movements, jittering, and blurriness that are prevalent throughout the movie, especially during high action sequences. Made it very difficult for me to stay focused through the whole thing and nearly caused motion sickness in parts.

The Imaginary is proof that animation is by far the best medium to tell a story like this. Everything runs on imagination and childlike wonder here and the film has more than enough visual beauty, inventive character designs and wonderful adventures to be worthy of its title. It's colourful, emotional and briefly disturbing in ways that all greatest animated films achieve, even if it's not at their level.

Rio Suzuki and Kokoro Terada have all the required energy and childlike innocence, mixed with determination and affecting sadness to lead this with ease. Issey Ogata is surprisingly creepy with an uncomfortable presence that easily matches his character's most disturbing actions and on the other end of the spectrum, everyone else does a great job of being as adorable as the imaginary friends they voice.

Yoshiyuki Momose's direction is endlessly inventive from the very beginning and can handle the bigger tonal shifts in a way that prevents them from feeling jarring. The animation in general is absolutely breathtaking, relishing the opportunity to deliver so much exciting, colourful spectacle. Kenji Tamai's score has the sweeping emotion required to really tug at the heartstrings when necessary.

I've been trying to get into more anime, and after seeing the trailer for this, I decided to give it a shot-and I'm so glad I did. I honestly don't get why the rating isn't higher. It's a beautiful story, told with so much care and heart, that it had me hooked from beginning to end.

What really stuck with me is how it explores the innocence of childhood-how kids, even in the middle of grief or loneliness, can create entire worlds of wonder and joy. And how sometimes, adults forget what that felt like, or worse, try to take it away. But this film feels like a quiet reminder to let our inner child breathe a little, to not lose sight of that part of us that knows how to dream.