Bubble: A beautiful yet fragile fairy tale.
When anime stars get together on Netflix’s Bubble, it sounds like the work of a dream team. It was written by Gen Urobuchi (Fate/Zero, Psycho-Pass), directed by Tetsurō Araki (Attack on Titan, Death Note), created by Takeshi Obata (Death Note, Platinum End), and scored by Hiroyuki Sawano (Promare, Attack on Titan).
It is Studio WIT’s biggest original project since Hal in 2013. WIT Studio is known for their lively animation and moving stories. Their new sci-fi fairy tale was supposed to be a stunning mix of art and heart. In fact, Bubble is a movie full of inconsistencies. It’s beautiful, but it’s also uneven, and it tries new things while also sticking to old ones.
The story retells Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Little Mermaid” through the lens of post-apocalyptic science fiction. It has beautiful animation and themes of love, loss, and finding oneself. The images are as bright and dreamlike as a landscape, but the story sometimes falls apart under the weight of its big ideas. Bubble is still a beautiful and poetic experience, even though the story isn’t very strong. It shows the wonder of youth and the sadness of change.
As Studio WIT puts it, they make worlds where creativity can’t be slowed down by gravity.
In the near future, strange bubbles have fallen from the sky and changed gravity and the rules of physics. After a huge blast, Tokyo was surrounded by a huge dome-shaped Bubble that cut it off from the rest of the world. Inside, what’s left is a strange field where homeless kids form parkour teams to stay alive and compete for food and supplies in a dangerous sport called Tokyo Battlekour.
One of these freerunners is our main character, Hibiki. He is a talented but shy athlete whose heightened sensitivity to sound keeps him from interacting with his peers. During a risky parkour match, Hibiki falls into the ocean below, where the gravity is bent, and almost drowns.
Unknown girl Uta, who was born from a single conscious Bubble, saves him. At first, she acts like a child, is interested, and doesn’t say anything, but her link with Hibiki is deeper than science or logic can explain. There is a sound that only the two of them can hear that connects them and binds their fates together.
When Uta shows up, the story changes into a modern version of “The Little Mermaid.” In the same way that Andersen’s mermaid gives up her world for love, Uta has to face the limits of her own life. Hibiki’s love for her is pure, but short-lived. It’s a spark that makes him feel less alone and makes her realize how fragile she is.
Love in this world is like the bubbles that surround Tokyo; it has no weight and can’t be held.
The interesting thing about Bubble is that it’s both a big sci-fi show and a soft love story. The broken-down skyscrapers and bubbles that resist gravity in the city are a poetic metaphor for freedom and finding stability in chaos. Not only are the parkour scenes exciting because of the acrobatics, but also because of how they show feelings. For example, Hibiki’s jumps and Uta’s interest become a language of motion, a dance between being and not being.
The Blue Blaze, Hibiki’s team, is like family to the story’s main characters and shows how strong young people can be. On a homemade ship that they call home, they fight, train, and dream together. The story doesn’t delve into great detail about their pasts, but having them in Tokyo lends a sense of lived-in humanity, even though the city is falling apart.
However, the screenplay often falls short, despite its considerable emotional promise. This piece of Urobuchi’s writing, which is usually sharp and thoughtful, reads like a long explanation. The movie stops every 15 minutes so that a character can talk about the bubbles, the science, or the meaning. The mystery is weakened by the steady narration, which takes away from the emotional rhythm of some scenes.
Still, Bubble is sweet and powerful when it focuses on Uta’s innocence and Hibiki’s awakening. Like the quiet sadness in Andersen’s fairy tale, their connection grows through shared silences, gestures, and sounds, not through words. In her last act, Uta makes the tragic and transcendent choice to sacrifice her life. Even though she is made of bubbles, she feels more like a real person than many of the other figures.
Uta isn’t just Hibiki’s inspiration; she also serves as a reminder that beauty only lasts for a short time.”
Bubble has a strange pace. The first act is exciting, the second act wanders, and the third act goes on too long. The beginning sets the stage for mystery and finding, but the middle act is full of explanations and beats that you know will happen. Even though the ending makes you feel something, it goes on for too long and turns a simple metaphor into a cosmic conclusion.
It’s too bad, because the story’s best parts are the quiet, genuine ones, like when Uta learns to talk, or when Hibiki finally joins his friends for dinner, or when they share a look during a race. These views of real people give the story its heart. Even though the big cosmic finale is beautiful to look at, it makes things more complicated when they would have been easier.
In the end, Bubble‘s story progresses in the same way that its theme does: the characters get smarter, but everything falls apart faster. This story works best when it’s somewhere in the middle of fantasy and science, love and loss, movement and silence.
The story of the movie is a fragile spark of brilliance that bursts too soon. It floats between genius and cliché.
Bubble is a work of art to look at. It’s clear once more why WIT Studio is thought to be one of the best animation companies in the world. Each frame is full of life and color. There are amazing parkour scenes where characters jump off of falling buildings and ride air currents, defying gravity. As in Attack on Titan, Araki’s direction adds a dynamic flair to freerunning scenes instead of huge killing. The end result is a beautiful dance of movement.
It’s easy to tell the difference between 2D and 3D animation because the characters move smoothly and the camera angles change all the time to follow the races. The movie’s color scheme, which is a mix of cool blues and bright reds, produces a tension that matches Uta and Hibiki’s emotional journey. The ruins of Tokyo look strangely divine as each bubble mirrors galaxies inside it.
There’s more to admire than just the big action scenes. A lot of care goes into showing the little things, like hair moving in the wind or a ripple on the top of a bubble. The pictures make you feel things; they make the world feel alive, fragile, and short-lived, just like the love story at its heart.
You don’t just see Bubble’s visuals; you feel them.” Every picture is full of movement, sadness, and meaning.
Hiroyuki Sawano, the composer, has made another powerful score by combining operatic high points with electronic echoes. The film has two sides: a big sci-fi show and a small, personal love story. The music reflects both of these sides. During parkour races, his theme songs get more emotional, and when Uta is alone, they fade into haunting tunes.
The mood is strengthened by Eve’s ending theme, which perfectly captures the film’s bittersweet mood: young, sad, and short-lived. The sound design of the movie is also great. From the soft pop of bubbles to the deep echo of Hibiki and Uta’s shared frequency, sound is an important part of the story. Even silence is used well; the quiet parts have just as much of an effect as the loud action scenes.
Bubble is a strange movie because it’s both memorable and flawed. It features some of the most beautiful art in anime of the decade, but the story isn’t fully developed at times. The story tries to be deep but ends up being too much information, and the characters try to be deep but end up just being sketches. Even so, Bubble leaves behind something very special: a feeling of wonder.
The movie is about connection, change, and the beauty of things that don’t last. This theme is shown in both the way it looks and the way it is put together. Bubble is fragile and short-lived, just like its name. As soon as you grab it, it pops. That might be what makes it unique.
