In this movie, music is not just a backdrop to the story, but the story itself.
Liz and the Blue Bird, an anime by Naoko Yamada, who made The Colors Within, came out after the acclaimed A Shape of Voice, but is the third full-length spin-off of Sound! Euphonium.
What Is Liz and the Blue Bird About?
School choir members Mizore and Nozomi are ice and fire. One wanders through the corridors like a ghost, avoiding conversations with others and playing the oboe brilliantly.
The other is smiling and restless, like a sunbeam, the life of the party, whose interests are not limited to the flute part. Nevertheless, they are bound together by a close friendship that cracks as graduation looms on the horizon.
The last chord threatens a competition in which the orchestra will perform a piece based on the fairy tale Liz and the Blue Bird. The relationship between the two heroines leads Mizore and Nozomi to a difficult reflection: what do they want in life – and from each other?
Liz and the Blue Bird Is an Independent Story
Although the anime is a spin-off, Nozomi and Mizore's story works as a stand-alone work whose gaps can be explained by the rich inner lives of the heroines.
Both are immersed in introspection, focusing on a small number of events, people and images, often returning to the same thoughts, trying to understand what is happening to them.
In Liz and the Blue Bird, Music Plays One of the Most Important Roles
As in the original series, a personal relationship drama unfolds against the backdrop of preparations for a music competition. But unlike the series, the movie has a completely different mood.
If the series was about music, this movie is a musical story. The music is not just an accompaniment and a set of sounds – it is the story itself.
Music sets the mood, conveys feelings and emotions. The mood of the work is emphasized by delicate graphics and inserts from a fairy tale that closely resembles real life.
Liz and the Blue Bird Is a Touching and Metaphorical Story
Perhaps Liz and the Blue Bird can be rightly criticized for its metaphorical redundancy: the same experiences are repeated in music, gestures, scenes – which, given the simple plot, can seem overloaded or even intrusive.
At the same time, Naoko Yamada weaves a narrative not out of storylines, but out of feelings expressed in shades of mood, drooping corners of the lips, and lightning-fast smiles. The invisible matter that fills powerful feelings: love and friendship.