Chapter 15

ESSAY YOJIRO NODA It’s currently June 7, 2019. Almost two months have passed since I was asked to provide this essay. Back in early April, when I was still working on the soundtrack for the film, the director asked me if I’d write the essay for the Weathering With You novel. With absolutely no clue about what constituted an essay, I told him, “If you’re sure I’m the one for the job, then yes, I’ll write it.” I took him up on the offer simply because I’d get to read the novel before anybody else. To be honest, at this point, I regret that decision. No matter what I write, it feels wrong somehow. I’ve spent my days writing and erasing, writing and erasing, over and over. I had no idea what sort of essay would be a good fit for this novel, and the first day of our nationwide tour sneaked up on me. It’s tomorrow, in fact. This really wasn’t a task for a guy like me. So, with a good measure of defiance thrown in, I’m going to attempt to shed a little light on this story by looking back over the work I’ve done with the director up till today. The director first sent me the script for Weathering With You on August 26, 2017, exactly one year to the day from the release of your name. The director is a romantic, so I thought that was very like him. I’ve spent the whole year and a half since then with this story. Ultimately, a total of thirty-three pieces of music will appear in the movie. That’s a big increase from the twenty-seven pieces for your name. I journeyed through the story with Hodaka and Hina—who hadn’t even been colored and certainly weren’t moving yet—in the storyboard and with Director Shinkai, and we kept up a running dialogue about it the whole time. Over our year and a half on this project, the director and I exchanged more than 350 e-mails, and we met directly for countless in-person preparatory meetings as well. While all that was going on, when we were adding the music, the talk would naturally turn to what was in the characters’ hearts. Whose feelings was the music in this scene closest to? What perspective should we add sound from? The director is kind and good-natured, so he’d genuinely listen to the opinions of an outsider like me, too. “What do you suppose he (the character) is thinking now?” “Would she say that?” All of us, producer Genki Kawamura included, got involved in these conversations. (If I had to say, Mr. Kawamura was in charge of the rational side, and I was in charge of the emotional side.) We all fought using our impressions of the characters that definitely did exist, if only inside ourselves. The director had formed the characters’ unique traits and personalities while he created the film, and by writing this novel, he brought them into sharper focus; that came through to me very clearly as I read the book. It also seemed as if he was checking his answers, in his own way. In the novel, unlike in the film, all the characters speak from their own, first-person perspectives. What’s going on in Hodaka’s and Hina’s minds is shown many times, of course, but the things Suga and Natsumi are thinking and feeling don’t come up that much in the film. If you tried to pack everything into the movie, it certainly wouldn’t fit into ninety minutes. Being able to hear their inner voices, even though they aren’t the protagonists, is one of the true pleasures of the novel, and it made the story feel even richer. The other day, when I happened to mention that I was having trouble figuring out what to write for this essay, the director said, “For me, Yojiro, I was intrigued by how much effort you poured into Weathering With You, and I’d like to know why you did it.” I thought about why, and I had the answer inside of two seconds. It was because it’s a Makoto Shinkai film. It was also because Director Shinkai was good enough to believe in me. That’s all it is. I have no qualms about choosing one person over another. I can’t be kind to everyone, and I’ve got only one body. All I can do is everything my limits allow me to do. I’m sure there are lots of people who dislike me for that, of course, and that’s all right. However, nothing could make me happier than meeting someone I can trust and getting the opportunity to make something new with them. In the process of creation, reflecting someone else’s opinions or ideas in a work you love is unexpectedly tough. Even if their fields are different, I’m sure anyone who creates will understand that. As they create, I’m sure lots of people believe that “this is a story only I know, and I’m the one who knows the right answer to it.” However, the director listens to the words of the people he believes in. His belief is so straightforward that I won’t be satisfied unless I give him everything I’ve got (and I can’t personally tell whether I’ve actually managed to give everything). That feeling drives me forward. When I finished reading this novel, my frank impression was that the text in the novel, the movements of the characters, the flow of the words and emotions, and the beautiful pictures that will be shown in theaters—they’re all Makoto Shinkai to a T. They are also the shape of this world, as seen through his eyes. We can decide the beauty and ugliness and evanescence and sadness of the world for ourselves. Others might arrogantly sing their own praises and try to refute your vision of the world by citing the miserable state it’s in or their vast knowledge and saying that those things constitute some immutable reality, but we can define this world for ourselves. What’s in other people’s hearts is the one thing no one can restrict. Makoto Shinkai knows this. He also knows that technically, the beauty of the Shinjuku district, the unique glow of the urban sky, and even the most sumptuous cooking can’t compare to a casual gesture of kindness from someone. I like the world the director believes in. I also like the strength he believes in. In order to live in the midst of a vast flood of people and things, individuals tend to find ways to standardize themselves, trying to get closer to a vague, generally accepted “correctness.” They feel more at ease that way. This isn’t an entirely bad thing, but little by little, they lose sight of the boundaries between what they really feel and the world’s “right answer.” At first glance, the director seems to be more mild-mannered, to be more considerate, and to value harmony more than anyone else. As I watch him, I end up thinking, He could (and probably should) act like a bit more of a big shot. I think it’s his natural kindness that makes him act the way he does, though. However, no matter how well he keeps up appearances, and no matter how hard his intellect tries to strike a balance with his surroundings and the world, a kind of steadfast core in his heart stands out. It gets unruly, no matter what he does. It starts screaming quietly. He has this zone where he won’t listen, no matter what anybody says. Just like Hodaka, in Weathering With You. I’m drawn to that. Hodaka is aware of the fate that’s been handed to Hina. Historically, people actually did offer other humans to the gods as sacrifices in an attempt to secure peace for humanity. Even so, Hodaka goes to save her. Hina is necessary to his world. It doesn’t matter whether society is satisfied with the ending of this story. I thought that straightforwardness of Hodaka’s was the spitting image of the director. Director Shinkai has created many fine works, such as 5 Centimeters per Second and The Garden of Words, and has also had great success in business terms with your name., and this time, he went into the work with greater self-confidence, a dependable staff, and unshakable technique. To me, in his previous works, it seemed as though—whether due to his aesthetics or shyness, or possibly out of consideration for his viewers—he tended to get a bit timid about his endings (and I’m really starting to worry I’m speaking too freely here). In this film, though, it felt as though the director stuck with what he wanted, all the way to the end. He literally became one with Hodaka and went to save Hina. That was what it felt like to me. It made me happy. In the film, a song called “We’ll Be Alright (Movie Edit)” plays over the end credits. I think it was in December last year that (according to the man himself) Director Shinkai was inspired by the lyrics to this song and redrew the final scene. I felt an enormous sense of responsibility, and for a while, it felt like a heavy lead weight in the pit of my stomach. So up until the middle of this April, I tried to negotiate for a different song for the end credits. Right to the end, though, the director insisted that he wanted to conclude the film with this song, no compromises. His eyes were as straightforward as always, just as they’d been for the past year and a half. He said he thought audiences who’d watched the movie all the way through and heard the words I want to become what all right means to you were bound to find solace in the end. “We’ll Be Alright (Movie Edit)” is a song that was made for Weathering With You, Hodaka and Hina’s song. It’s a song for a pair tossed about by the fate the world has unexpectedly given them. However, I didn’t know whether it would ultimately become the audience’s song. “The world was riding on your small shoulders, and only I could see it.” I didn’t know whether viewers would accept those words as their own. As I was reading this novel, though, I started to understand. Everyone has their own world, and they’re all doing everything they can to live in it. They have roles; they bear responsibilities, whatever they are; and they’re carrying themselves, the one life they have to live, through each day from today to tomorrow. It wasn’t just Hina. All people are struggling as they live in that “world” that’s just for them. They know how heartening and reassuring it is to have someone see them from nearby. “They see me,” “They know about this small world of mine,” “There’s someone who cares, who asks if I’m okay.” They know just how much support those things provide. And when they see someone special and irreplaceable struggling, everyone prays, “I want to become what all right means to this person.” I think that’s what this song, “We’ll Be Alright (Movie Edit),” means. The director taught me the meaning of my own song. Director Shinkai, thank you. (Radwimps, illion)