秒速5厘米的英文简介

The plot is set in Japan beginning from the 1990s and ending in modern day, with each segment centered on a boy named Takaki Tōno. It is important to note that the first episode takes place during a time period when cell phones are uncommon and e-mail has not yet reached the general populace.

Episode 1: Cherry Blossom

Takaki Tōno quickly befriends Akari Shinohara when she transfers to his elementary school. They grow closer to each other due to similar interests and attitudes; for instance, they both prefer to stay inside during recess due to their seasonal allergies. As a result, they form a strong bond; they speak to each other using their given names without any form of honorifics, which is very unusual in Japan, even among people who are romantically involved. This fact is lost in the movie's translation to English and other languages, which reduces the implied closeness of their relationship.

Upon graduating from elementary school, Akari moves to Tochigi, due to her parents' jobs. The two keep in contact by writing letters, but despite the feelings that exist between them, they inevitably begin to drift apart. When Takaki becomes aware that his family will be moving to Kagoshima, he decides to go see Akari since they will be too far apart to visit each other at all after he moves. He also prepares a letter for Akari, revealing his true feelings. However, during the journey, he loses the letter, and a severe snowstorm continuously delays Takaki's trip by several more hours. The two finally meet, and as they share their first kiss, Takaki realizes they will never be together again. Stranded in a shed due to the snowstorm, they fall asleep after talking late into the night. Takaki departs the next morning, and they promise to continue writing to each other. As the train rolls away, Takaki regrets the loss of his letter, while Akari silently looks at a letter she had intended to give to him.

Episode 2: Cosmonaut

Takaki is now in the third year of senior high in Tanegashima, where the Tanegashima Space Center is located. Kanae Sumida, a classmate of Takaki, had fallen in love with Takaki ever since she met him in middle school, but does not have the courage to openly confess her feelings. She spends all the time she can with him, even waiting long after school for the chance to go home together. It is obvious Kanae has strong feelings for Takaki, but he appears to be blind to them; he simply regards Kanae as a good friend. Over time Kanae observes that Takaki is always writing emails to someone, or staring off into the distance as if searching for something far, far away. It is revealed later in this segment, that the emails Takaki is constantly writing are merely to himself, and he has had recurring dreams in which Akari is featured. Despite her feelings for Takaki, Kanae believes he is searching for things far greater than anything she can offer and eventually decides against telling him how she feels.

Episode 3: 5 Centimeters Per Second

It is 2008, and all three characters have gone their separate ways. Takaki is now a computer programmer in Tokyo, and Akari is preparing to get married. There is no clear indication as to what Kanae has done, but in the ending montage she can be seen slightly older laying on the ocean water next to her surfboard as well as saying goodbye to Takaki as he is leaving via airplane. Takaki is still longing for Akari to the detriment of his lifestyle and his other relationships, which a recent ex-girlfriend also acknowledges. Akari, while going through some old things, finds the letter she intended to give to Takaki but never sent. She feels nostalgic for those days but has moved on with her life. On the verge of a breakdown, Takaki quits his job.

One day while walking down a road, Akari and Takaki presumably pass and recognize each other, across a train crossing. They both pause and begin to look back, but the passing trains quickly cut off their view. Takaki waits for the trains to pass, but sees that the woman is gone. After a pause, he smiles to himself and continues walking.

Shinkai Makoto is a real visionary. His ability to construct such rich and detailed artistic presentations is phenomenal. Anime has several directors that are talented and evidently passionate about constructing a stimulating visual effort pulsating with detail and motion and irregular, yet controlled camera movements that keep the audience on their toes, including Ishihara Tatsuya, Shinbo Akiyuki, Satoshi Kon and, of course, Miyazaki Hayao, but I’d willingly make the argument that none has the ability to manipulate complex and dynamic interactions of light and shadow, reflection, colour and bloom as perfectly as Shinkai does. It’s not that Shinkai creates perfectly realistic visual environments; he’s more than willing to take artistic liberties with the laws of physics if it means enhancing the atmosphere or subtly pushing a visual motif. Specular reflections may have the intensity of laser light, and the reflection from a rear view mirror will focus exactly onto the camera from several hundred meters away. Strands of grass dance independently in the wind and the distant sea shimmers like a starry night. Shinkai’s works have backgrounds that are alive.

It’s easy enough to wax on and on about how good the art and animation in 5 Centimeters Per Second is, and while it is an achievement worthy of a massive amount of acclaim, what ultimately defines a film is its story. And while I was left in awe at the artistic component of 5 Centimeters Per Second, the story-telling isn’t quite on the same level as the visuals. Shinkai again deals with what appear to be his pet themes of distance between love and coping with separation, but does so this time without introducing a prominent sci-fi element as was the case with Voices of a Distant Star and The Place Promised in Our Early Days. 5 Centimeters Per Second is divided into three chapters, each analyzing the relationship between the two leads at different points of their lives. The problem is that the latter two chapters simply aren’t as absorbing and touching as the first, which shows a heart-warming and tender display of love almost guaranteed to move almost anyone inclined towards anime romances. The second chapter lacks the emotional impact of the first, even though it does provide some intriguing character analyses, but the third chapter is uncharacteristically cynical and pessimistic from Shinkai.

While the change in tone is jarring, this I’m not opposed to in itself, since it avoids the cliches of the “Pure Love” genre. What I didn’t approve of was the fact that the ending offered no real resolution. There’s simply no solid denouement; the film shows a montage (which is, in my opinion, one of the laziest story-telling techniques in cinema) and then cuts to the credits.

5 Centimeters Per Second is worth watching for the art alone. But, to add a bit of cake to the icing, the first chapter is also outstanding, presenting a touching and innocent romance filled with powerful gestures and heart-warming moments. Unfortunately, the highlight of the film is over after twenty-five minutes, and the story slowly becomes less and less emotionally engaging, ultimately leading to a disappointing non-ending. This is still better than most other anime you’ll see this year, but don’t let the Shinkai-hype overwhelm you; this isn’t his best work and he’s not as good at crafting a story as Miyazaki… just yet.
Takaki and Akari attended elementary school together, where a mutual interest in the library led them to become good friends. Their parents' work situation ultimately foiled their plans to attend the same middle school, but they kept in contact by mail. One snowy night, shortly before another move takes him too far away for an easy visit, Takaki hops on a train to visit Akari one last time. Years later, in high school on Kagoshima, a girl named Kanae finds herself smitten with archery-minded Takaki, but her struggles to summon enough courage to confess her feelings are mirrored by her difficulty properly catching a wave in her surfing hobby. And it always seems like Takaki is messaging someone. . . Further years pass and Takaki finds himself working in Tokyo, where a chance encounter just might change his life.

Makoto Shinkai has been hailed by some as “the next Miyazaki,” but such praise is premature at best and hyperbole at worst. While this newest project confirms the remarkable talent he displayed in his previous efforts, he has yet to show any range or variety. Like Voices of a Distant Star and Place Promised in Our Earlier Days (and, for that matter, his first short She and Her Cat, too), Five Centimeters Per Second is a story about longing, about the isolating feeling of loneliness and the desire to make and maintain connections. But though it may not differ much in style, tone, sound, or look from his other productions, you will not find another anime director better at hitting just the right note, and using just the right combination of lines and visuals, to much such stories work.

Shinkai's previous projects have shown that his storytelling style is best-suited to shorter, more intimate works, so he tackles this 62-minute feature by breaking it down into three sequential parts showing chief protagonist Takaki at different stages of his life; the first in middle school, the second in high school, and the third as an adult. The first part, with Takaki striving to meet Akari despite weather that seems determined to thwart him, is the strongest and the one most able to stand on its own. It offers such a beautiful and delicate look at the development and exercise of young love that it can appeal to a viewer's emotions without being sappy. The second part, where Takaki becomes a supporting character while the focus falls on Kanae, is more an exercise in unrequited love, with an unusual (and in some senses unsettling) twist late in its run. The third and by far shortest piece, where Takaki splits feature time with Akari, has a “moving forward with your lives” element to it and is the part least likely to match with viewer expectations.

Taken individually, the parts offer nice little vignettes, but taken as a whole they paint a broader picture about the progression of life and love. The ending, which is where this work differs most from Shinkai's previous efforts, will doubtless be controversial and may leave some fans unsatisfied, as it opens itself to multiple interpretations. Some may feel as if it just ends without resolving anything, but if one considers Takaki's few lines of narration in part two, how that part ends, and how everything fits together, it becomes clearer that actually resolving things was never the point. Whereas Voices was about trying to maintain a connection and Place Promised was about reestablishing one, Five Centimeters is ultimately about moving on from past connections instead of just living in the past, about finding a way to become happy in the present rather than just pining for what has been lost over time. In that sense Five Centimeters is Shinkai's most mature and complicated work yet.

As with Place Promised, Shinkai was directly involved in nearly every aspect of this production, which leaves his stamp on this work as indelibly as Miyazaki does on any of his movies. (This is the one place where comparisons between the two are justifiable.) All of the elements seen in his previous works are here: extensive use of in-character narration, nearly photorealistic recreations of actual real-world settings, impressive use of lighting effects, scene selections chosen with an eye to establishing and enhancing mood, occasionally dazzling vistas, and carefully-crafted, precisely-worded dialog which avoids any extraneous comment and invariably contributes to the overall feel of the work. Striking, as always, is his vivid use of color, although it seems a bit brighter and glossier here than in his previous work. His character designs have improved markedly since his work on Voices but are still the weak point of the artistry, as is the character animation; scenes of moving clouds and vehicles, blowing snow and grass, crossing gates, even birds – really, he excels in animating everything except people, and his scene selections strongly suggest that he realizes that.

Tenmon, the artist who did the music for Voices, returns for this project, and indeed his score for the first part is only a minor stylistic variation on the light piano numbers used in Voices. Large sections of the second part pass without any score, and the bits that do have it offer a similar blend of poignant, low-key piano numbers mixed with light orchestration. Part 3 lacks a score until the background song “One More Time, One More Chance” takes over; though it may be a little too loud, it fits quite well in both lyrics and tone. The production also excels in its use of sound effects, especially in the bow-shooting scenes in Part 2.

The Japanese dub uses a different seiyuu for Akari between Parts 1 and 3, while the English dub uses Hilary Haag passably well at both ages. David Matranga, as Takaki, strains a bit when attempting to voice a very young version of his character but otherwise does a fine job, and Serena Varghese hits the mark just right as Kanae. Because so much of the dialog is narration, the English script varies very little from the subtitles, although in many places the English spoken lines and Japanese spoken lines have somewhat different timing. (This is not easily noticeable unless you listen to the English dub with the subtitles on, however.)

Amongst the Extras on the disc are a photo montage of setting scouting for the movie that can make a viewer appreciate exactly how accurately detailed some of the background animation really is. Also included are two interviews: one with Shinkai and the other with members of the Japanese cast. Although ADV's production lists the three parts as if they were episodes on the menu, it uses no chapter breaks within a part.

The question that will inevitably get asked is where this work stands compared to Shinkai's previous efforts. It is his best effort to date, or his worst? The answer depends heavily on what you are expecting to get out of it. Evaluated purely on technical merits, the overall artistry is a very slight step down from Place Promised, but the timing and pacing of its storytelling is better. It has better character designs and more complexity than Voices, but not as broad an appeal nor as poignant and heartfelt an ending. It achieves the same degree of elegance and eloquence in storytelling, so the decision largely comes down to a matter of personal preference. From this reviewer's perspective, Voices is the true masterpiece of the lot, but this one works just fine, as long as you can come to terms with the ending.

Tohno Takaki and Shinohara Akari are two classmates in an elementary school. During their time together they have become close friends. Their relationship is tested when Akari transfers to another city because of her parents' jobs. Both of them struggle to keep their friendship alive as time and distance slowly pulls them apart. When Takaki finds out that he is moving farther away, he decides to visit Akari one last time.

The movie is a collection of three stories; the first episode, Oukashou, shows the day of their reunion. The next episode, Cosmonaut, follows the story about Takaki after the reunion takes place from the viewpoint of another person. The last episode, Byousoku 5 Centimeter, clips out the movements of their thoughts.

5 Centimeters Per Second" is a one hour Japanese animated feature film with drama and romance. This movie looks to be pure drama as it revolves around several characters. There is no fantasy or science fiction present as it looks to present the actual world from a different perspective.

This movie is to be a perspective of everyday life through the eyes of director and writer Makoto Shinkai. The name comes from the cherry blossom which is a national symbol of Japan. The rate in which a petal falls from a cherry blossom tree is five centimeters per second. It looks to be the most realistic and humanistic animated movie that I have ever seen.

Mainly, all of the segments focus on a boy named Takaki Tono. The three episodes that make up the movie are labeled as: "Okasho" which is Cherry Blssom Extract in Japanese, "Cosmonaut", and "Byosoku Centimeter." Each section details the life of Takaki at different points. The first section takes place around 1990 where Takaki had graduated from elementary school as he and his close friend Akari Shinohara have drifted apart. Akari moved because her parents had gotten a job transfer. Akari goes to middle school in Tokyo.

5 Centimeters Per Second details Takaki's life as he has to move very often due to his parents' jobs. This makes it hard for a person to make friends let alone get into a relationship. In short, it shows that you really cannot have a steady personal life if your parents are moving to another place for a year and then move somewhere else for another year.
For quite some time now those in the know have been declaring Makoto Shinkai the next Hayao Miyazaki. Starting with short films animated purely by himself on his home computer Shinkai has steadily built a fiercely loyal following around the globe, his fans drawn by his clean lines, attention to detail and willingness to let his character's breathe. Shinkai, like Miyazaki, is one of those very rare film makers - even more rare in the animation world - who understands that less can often be more, that the quiet moments often tell us more than any amount of action or dialog ever could, and he has an uncanny knack for capturing the pregnant pauses that open the souls of his characters. While Shinkai's latest, a triptych of interconnected stories titled 5 Centimeters Per Second, does not quite raise him to the current level of the great master it definitely represents a huge step forward and is exactly the sort of film that you would expect to come out of Miyazaki's Studio Ghibli on one of their better days. Yes, though the film has its weaknesses, Shinkai really is that good.
5 Centimeters Per Second - named for the speed at which cherry blossoms fall to the ground - is made up of three stories surrounding Takaki, a Japanese boy, at three different stages of his life. We meet him when he is young, just in junior high and coping with the departure of Akari - his closest friend, a girl for whom he has developed feelings he cannot express - the year before while also preparing for his own move away from Tokyo and to a remoter part of the country. We then move to Takaki at the final stages of high school, preparing to move on to the next stage of his life and completely, blissfully ignorant of the feelings Kanae, a girl in his class has for him. Finally, we meet Takaki again as a young adult, twenty six and giving in to disillusionment.
The first two segments of the film - titled Cherry Blossom Story and Cosmonaut, respectively, provide the real meat to the affair with the final section, 5 Centimeters Per Second, feeling sadly like a perfunctory and unfinished coda. The closing act leaves you wishing that it had been something more but for the first two acts - self contained shorts, both of them - Shinkai proves to be pure gold. His animation is stunning, beautifully detailed and impeccably framed with Shinkai showing a masterful ability to mirror the emotion of his human players in his shot selections and pacing. His characters ring startlingly true, the emotional core so strong, their relationships sketched out so simply yet effectively that it could be used as a textbook example of how to show an audience your characters while actually telling them very little. Cherry Blossom Story, in particular, also shows a remarkable grasp of the editing process, Shinkai nimbly cutting between perspectives and time periods to gracefully sketch out the relationship between Takaki and Akari.
Through the first two segments of the film Shinkai's grasp is remarkable he manages the difficult feat of capturing both the flush and excitement of young love along with the nervousness and fear that it brings all the while shooting it through with the sort of wistful melancholy that comes from knowing that you can never have what you most want. It's a complex bit of work that Shinkai makes seem simple and effortless and that, in and of itself, is the mark of a true master storyteller. The final third, however, feels only half done. Akari is engaged to marry someone else and seems a little apprehensive, Takaki is aimless and drinks too much unsure of his place in the world and purpose in life. Shinkai sets this segment up very well indeed and seems poised to go some interesting, challenging and unexpected places with his characters but then, inexplicably, he opts to instead cut it into a flashback laden romantic music video. Literally. It's a bizarre decision that really takes the heart out of this section but the first two segments are so flawlessly strong that the overall experience is still a very strong success. Keep an eye on Shinkai, he is poised to become a true giant in the animation world in the very near future.
With 5 Centimeters per Second, Shinkai Makoto has polished the elements that made his previous anime so heartbreakingly poignant and produced a wonderful work. If the film did not have a disappointing third arc, this would be his best work thus far and probably the best of the year.

5 cm’s story will feel warmly familiar to those who have already had the pleasure of watching the director’s work. Makoto is still very much obsessed with capturing the sheer, unrivaled beauty of an impossible love. No matter how cruelly fate intervenes, his protagonists cling desperately and determinedly to their love, as if it were a lone piece of driftwood amidst an angry and roiling ocean. These themes are no less powerful here than they were when Makoto first explored them, and should strike a chord in all but the most hyperactive viewers.

While 5 cm foregoes the science-fiction elements that Makoto is usually known for, the down-to-earth, slice-of-life story is never boring. If Makoto’s first two major stories had anything wrong with them at all, it was that Voices of a Distant Star was too simplistic and The Place Promised in Our Early Days had too much excess baggage. In 5 cm, however, Makoto finds the perfect mix; the film manages to be wonderfully rich without having a trace of unnecessary plotting. For the first two parts of the film, 5 cm meets and even exceeds Makoto’s former material.

Only the third and decidedly imperfect act prevents me from scoring 5 cm as highly as Makoto’s first two works. Sadly, I can’t help but believe that Makoto ran out of either time or funding, because the final arc is rushed and sloppy. For one, the episode makes a key mistake of introducing a new character and then doing almost nothing with her. Even more disastrously, the haphazard pacing actually serves to undermine the message that I think Makoto is going for. As a result, the final product feels positively amputated.

As a whole, however, 5 cm is still a heartrendingly powerful work. As Makoto continues to release these somber masterpieces, the fact that they must be partially autobiographical becomes increasingly clear. Makoto’s raw and heartbreaking material feels so personal and intimate that he could only be drawing from his own bittersweet memory.

5 centimeters per second