Kimi no Iro — A journey through Yamada's melodic kaleidoscope

A retrospective of The Colors Within (Kimi no Iro) movie, and artwork by BAC artists

I've always been a fan of Naoko Yamada's works. Koe no Katachi & Liz to Aoi Tori being among my most favorite movies and Clannad: After Story being my most favorite piece of fiction ever, this movie was an absolute must watch. While her previous films, Koe no Katachi and Liz to Aoi Tori, were more dramatic, it feels like she deliberately went for something different in this one. Kimi no Iro is really about navigating the bridge between adolescence and adulthood. We see conflicts in the movie, but none are presented as something that needs urgent resolution. Instead, the film takes a slice-of-life approach to the self-discovery of its three protagonists.

Right at the beginning, we are introduced to one of the main protagonists, Totsuko, a girl who has synesthesia. People with synesthesia may experience colors when listening to music, see shapes when smelling certain scents, or perceive tastes when looking at words. In Totsuko's case, she perceives people’s auras as colors. (This is not the first time Yamada has referenced synesthesia in her works. The literal translation of Koe no Katachi is The Shape of the Voice, which refers to the main protagonists of the story using JSL instead of their voices to express their words, emotions, and thoughts.) Totsuko finds the colors of some people much more interesting than others, and she tries to get close to and learn more about these individuals. However, she has never been able to see or perceive her own color. Rather than this being a mystery for the viewer (as the movie poster itself shows the colors of the three main characters), this is used metaphorically as a plot point for Totsuko discovering herself through the events of the film.

The first time the audience meets the next protagonist, Kimi, is through Totsuko's eyes, bathed in a vibrant blue aura. (This is also when many viewers might notice the pun in the movie's name, which literally translates to Your Colors but can also mean Kimi's Colors.) My initial impression of Kimi (and, I imagine, Totsuko's as well) was that she was a perfect student—excellent at both sports and academics, shining bright blue like the sea on a summer morning. Soon after, Kimi stops attending classes, and Totsuko's despair is illustrated by the absence of colors around her as the background cycles through the church, her dorm, the classroom, and the cafeteria. As the story progresses, we see Kimi in various other shades of blue, challenging our initial impressions of her: the dull, muted blue as she debates telling her grandmother she dropped out of school; the serene blue when she's with Totsuko; and the lively, dazzling blue when she's performing with her bandmates.

In the library, we are introduced to the third protagonist, Rui, whom Totsuko perceives in green. Whenever the scene shifts to Rui's island, we see abundant greenery, and when Rui plays his theremin with intense focus, he is enveloped in a lovely green aura. Like Kimi, Rui finds himself in an uncomfortable position due to his family's expectations. We learn he comes from a long line of doctors who have treated patients on this island for many years. Although he is willing to live up to these expectations, Rui finds true peace in music, his hidden passion.

The movie's overall warmer color tone and palette make it feel quite different from Yamada's previous works. Totsuko, Kimi, and Rui embody the hues of additive colors—red, blue, and green. When they come together, they complete each other, just as additive colors mix to create pure, blissful white. This is also why the color white and the cat that brought them together in the library are part of their band name, Shironekodo. In contrast, their parental figures are depicted with subtractive colors: yellow, magenta, and cyan. And it's not just the characters having these hues, the presence of these colors can be seen spread throughout the movie. After band practice, the trio shares red, blue, and green ice creams. When they edit their music, the software marks their respective tracks with their colors. Totsuko and Kimi even paint each other's nails green and blue. There are probably numerous other such instances sprinkled throughout the movie which would need multiple rewatches to find.

The movie pays great attention to human movement, whether it's a major or minor character. Yamada is known for her focus on leg movements in her works, a signature element that appears here as well, albeit to a lesser extent. These movements are most beautifully depicted during Totsuko's ballet sequences at the end of the film. Giselle is known to be a challenging ballet, and the way it was modified to reflect Totsuko's skill level as an ex-ballet student who hasn't performed in years was brilliant. This sequence also serves as a moment of revelation for Totsuko as she discovers her own color, which she had been searching for her whole life.

Kensuke Ushio's compositions are stunning and perfectly suited to every sequence. Another lovely easter egg is that almost every OST and soundtrack, aside from the songs sung by the main characters, is named with an RGB color code instead of a traditional title on the Kimi no Iro playlists on YouTube and Spotify. Rui’s instrument of choice, the theremin, is an excellent fit for a movie dealing with synesthesia. The theremin is an electronic musical instrument controlled without physical contact, symbolizing making the invisible visible. The songs they compose and play at the end perfectly reflect each character. Kimi's song, a ballad and an electronic rock is an apology letter to her grandma but also embodies her passion and love for making and playing music. Rui's song has an amazing theremin sequence and talks about lighting someone else's dream by fulfilling his parents' expectations but also talks about blooming like a flower and following love rather than light hinting he would also follow his passion of music along with his profession. Totsuko’s song is silly, amateurish and catchy but it wholly embodies her honest way of engaging with the world. It draws inspiration from the spinning of planets like the way she spins around with joy or dances in a circle with her bandmates. It talks about her desire to share Kimi’s color with the world. It talks about how she feels excitement and her mind immediately drifts to rotating planets whenever she thinks about Kimi. Her childlike innocence is brought out by the lyrics which mixes her beliefs, the planets and ramen as if these things were always meant to be together. And, out of all performances it’s hers that the audience enjoys the most.

(Slight spoilers ahead—skip to the last paragraph if you'd like!) The colorful streamers flying away from the ship Rui was on was a beautiful way to show Totsuko's synesthesia in a material form to the viewers and the other protagonists in the movie. In my opinion, the movie's incomplete ending elevates it even further. It leaves the future open to interpretation: Rui might return, and the three could become a famous band; Rui and Kimi might end up together; in Rui's absence the bond of friendship between Totsuko and Kimi might deepen into something more, there's endless possibilities and Yamada lets the viewers imagine what the future holds for them.

Once again, Yamada has created a phenomenal movie. For those who missed it in theaters, please watch it when it becomes available on streaming. I can keep ranting on and on about this movie for hours, but this would probably be a good place to end this short narrative about what I felt about the movie. Now, pardon me as I go listen and hum to "Sui Kin Chi Ka Moku Do Ten Amen" for the hundredth time.

Article by Debarka (MyAnimeList, Instagram)

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