Marcel Winatschek

The Kirishima Thing

The Kirishima Thing is a 2012 Japanese high school film built on a simple premise: the star athlete disappears, and everything below the surface starts to show. Director Daihachi Yoshida uses the different social groups—athletes, musicians, the cinema club outsiders—as a kind of prism. Same event, different people, completely different understanding of what happened.

What hooks you is the structure. There’s no real exposition; you’re just thrown in and the film lets you figure it out by watching the same moment unfold from multiple angles. A scene plays once with the jocks, then again through the cinema club kids, then from somewhere else entirely. At first it’s confusing, but once you catch on, there’s something genuinely elegant about it. You start to see how much perspective shapes what you think you know.

The cast helps. These don’t feel like types; they’re specific and alive. Awkward, ambitious, loyal, petty, desperate, horny—all the things actual teenagers are. The film doesn’t condescend to them. It takes them seriously, which means you do too.

I think what surprised me is how much it lands emotionally. Not in a sentimental way—the film never indulges in that. It just shows up, lets these people be themselves, and lets you care about them without making a big deal about it. There’s real affection for the characters underneath the structure-shifting.

By the end you’re swimming in all of it—first love, friendship, jealousy, the weird intensity of school fandom, that specific apocalyptic desperation teenagers feel when they think everything’s ending. The film somehow holds all of that without falling into schmaltz. It’s just showing you how much these people matter to each other and to themselves.

I don’t know if you can experience something exactly like this outside a Japanese school context. The way those clubs work, the hierarchy, the social pressure—there’s something specific about it. But the emotional architecture underneath feels universal. That moment when you realize your whole world is actually fragile and small and probably not ending the way you think it is.