ANIME REVIEW: “Lonely Castle in the Mirror”

ANIME REVIEW: “Lonely Castle in the Mirror”

September 24th, 2023

Martin Goodman

Some stories must be told, especially to those caring enough to understand them, lest they eventually destroy the teller. Such is the theme of Keichi Hara’s 2022 anime, Lonely Castle in the Mirror. (Henceforth “Castle” for the purpose of this review). Adapted from a novel by Mizuki Tsujimura, The story concerns seven middle-school students who are summoned to what appears to be an elaborate extradimensional castle isolated on a tiny island entirely surrounded by water. Once they arrive through their bedroom mirrors, which have become magical portals, they are met by a mysterious young girl wearing a wolf mask.

The students seem to have no connection to each other but have been collected to play a game: If, in one year, any one of them can find a key hidden in the castle, the winner can use it to unlock a hidden “wishing room” and have their most fervent wish granted. There are only two rules: First, while they may travel back and forth between the “real world” and the castle through their mirrors, they can only do so from 9 a.m. through 5 p.m. Second, anyone who stays even a tick past 5 will not only be devoured by a savage wolf, but the other six will suffer the same fate. Such a deal.

But wait—aren’t the kids in school during the day? It is revealed that they are not playing hooky. All of them have suffered trauma, resulting in an emotional inability to face school. We have our main character, Kokoro, a dark-haired waif who had been the subject of merciless bullying by seemingly squads of female classmates and lost her only friend to their ranks. (It is noted that bullying appears to be a real problem in Japanese schools). Much the same goes for Ureshino, a pudgy romantic who, at one point, is so brutalized by bullies that he is swathed in bandages. Fuuka is a cute young moppet in round glasses who has crumbled under the verbal abuse of parents demanding that she become an award-winning pianist.

Masamune has been given unlimited video games but no parental attention or love. Rion is a friendless, unappreciated soccer player. Sensitive and lonely Subaru has lost his sister to cancer and has never recovered from her death. Then there is Aki, a tall, lanky young rebel who cannot forget her near-rape at the hands of her nasty stepfather. These kids have no good reason to trust each other, never mind the unfathomable Wolf Queen, but as time goes by…

As time goes by, most of what you would expect eventually happens, except in slow motion, and that is a significant problem for an anime that runs 116 minutes. Until the climax, about 20 minutes of the total running time, Castle reads like a cross between a depressed version of The Breakfast Club and a year-long group therapy session. It takes most of the year before we even see a search for the key, which turns out to be a McGuffin; although the key does exist, it does not take a sophisticated viewer very long to figure out that the kids are collectively the key. Although the kids have more than sufficient time to reveal more of their damaged personalities, we don’t truly learn anything until quite late in the film. And then there is a time-traveling science fiction twist just before the climax that does the viewers no favors and throws an unnecessary wrinkle into a skinny plot.

Some serious questions arise: Why should the group believe or trust in the Wolf Queen? With her cold, sharp demeanor, obtuse refusal to respond to inquiries, and unsettling mask that serves as a reminder of the kids’ fates for breaking a rule, isn’t she as emotionally abusive as the bullies or adults who plague the kids? It appears that the answer to the students remaining perpetually absent from school is not therapy (at least not the form that the putative therapist in the movie provides). It is also not intervention by the schools. Rather than address the problem of endemic bullying, transferring the student to a different school, an “alternative” school, or letting the student remain at home indefinitely is more expedient. I get that the film wants to make the students the therapists for each other, but can Japanese schools address any problems at all?

In one scene, Ureshino has been beaten so severely that he comes to the castle with arms, hands, and face bandaged. In another scene, Kokoro is trapped in her house by a gang of bullying girls, cowering behind locked doors to attempt to gain illegal entry to harm her. This takes place in a populous neighborhood, and no one seems to notice; did the bullies skip school en masse to attack Kokoro, or did they do this in plain sight of the adults who would be home after school? What happened to Ureshino and Kokoro, bodily harm and attempted home invasion, are actionable by any law enforcement standards. Group therapy for ongoing abuse requires a very experienced therapist; neither the kids nor the Wolf Queen qualify.

Part of me feels regret at sniping at this film. Most adults will readily tell you that middle school was the worst experience of their educations, rife with cliques, bullying, cruelty, and sometimes embarrassing hormonal influences. It is a challenging phase of development to navigate, and if the reports are accurate, Japan has a concerning problem with bullies disrupting schools. Perhaps the most salient point Castle makes is that some sections of pre-teen children are not psychologically built to take what the world dishes out. Such individuals need help, empathy, and understanding. In poor Aki’s case, even more is required. Still, it was beyond the scope of this film to address these issues, especially when we barely get to know the characters.

This brings me to the final point: Director Keichi Hara spent much time successfully directing series of films adapted from manga. Castle might have been better approached by Hara as an anime series of episodes so that audiences could focus on the characters as they changed over time as the results of their interactions. As a stand-alone movie, I think it misses the mark. When directors like Masaaki Yuasa turn out films like The Night Is Short, Walk On Girl, a free-swinging commentary on the bumpy maturation process, one can hope that Hara will take the next leap.