Blue Thermal: An Anime Film Review, Reflection and Full Recommendation

“Man must rise above the Earth – to the top of the atmosphere and beyond – for only thus will he fully understand the world in which he lives.” –Socrates

When Tamaki Tsuru enters university, she determines that she wishes to pursue a færietale romance after being turned down in high school for her athleticism. On the first day of term at Aonagi University, Tamaki decides to check out the tennis club. However, an incident leads her to accidentally damage the Sports Association Aviation Club’s glider, totalling some two million yen worth of repairs. Determined to set things right, Tamaki joins the Aviation Club as an assistant, but she soon catches the eye of senior member and president Jun Kuramochi, who sees potential in her ability. Despite Daisuke Sorachi’s protests, Jun allows her to fly with him, and while Tamaki struggles to master the theory behind flight, her natural ability in a glider’s cockpit allows her to move up the ranks and even begin consider participating in competition, which Jun promises will yield enough funds to pay off the damages. Although it is revealed that the glider had been insured, Jun decides to keep this from Tamaki so she can continue to fly. During a training camp where Aonagi and Hannan’s teams train together. Here, Tamaki is surprised to run into her estranged older step-sister, Chizuru Yano, and Hannan’s hotshot pilot, Kaede Hatori. Although Kaede is disrespectful and rude to Tamaki, her bold and forward personality throws him off, and later, he is surprised to learn that Tamaki had actually beaten her in the trials. Seeing Tamaki getting along with even Kaede impresses Chizuru, who voices to Jun that she’d always been jealous of the freedom Tamaki had. Once training camp is over, Daisuke withdraws from club activities to pursue a career in aeronautical engineering, and Jun is pulled away when his sponsor, Yō Asahina, decides that Jun’s destined for more than flying against college-aged pilots. Jun ends up reluctantly accepting an offer to fly in Germany, while Tamaki and the others promise to win the national championships after Yō reveals his past involvement with the Aonagi Aviation Club; having purchased the very glider that Tamaki had damaged, Jun subsequently became beholden to him, and to this end, Tamaki resolves to fly and win for Jun’s sake. When the competition begins, Yō receives news that Jun was involved in a crash in Germany, and struggles to break this news to the Aviation Club. Although the club members are saddened by this news, they promise to keep flying, and on the day of the finals, Daisuke decides to hedge his bets on Tamaki by having her fly last. When her turn comes, Tamaki manages to capitalise on the thermals in the skies and manages to keep up with the other gliders despite having had a slower start. Her impressive performance gives Aonagi its best time, and they end up winning the national championship. Tamaki subsequently presses Yō to make good on his promise, and he takes her to Germany in search of Jun, as well as the blue skies he’d sought out. As it turns out, Jun had survived the crash and, after spotting Tamaki’s glider, rushes off to the airfield, confirming to a tearful Tamaki that he’s still alive. She responds by declaring her intention to keep flying together with Jun unto eternity, prompting Jun to wonder if this is a kokuhaku. This is Blue Thermal, a film that premièred in March of this year and, unusually, saw a home release a mere four months later. True to its title, Blue Thermal delivers on sending viewers into the vast blue skies above as Tamaki earns her wings and discovers a world exceeding any expectations she may have had prior to her first day.

Strictly speaking, Tamaki and Aonagi University operates sailplanes, unpowered aircraft with a slender fuselage and long, thin wings that can pick up currents and climb without an external power source. While lacking the same range and control as a powered aircraft, sailplanes can still travel impressive distances – an experienced pilot can use thermals, ridge lifts and other means to remain airborne for hours at a time and travel hundreds of kilometres. All of this is dependent on pilot skill and an ability to read the environment, and in this way, operating a glider thus serves as an inspired metaphor for life itself, one that suits Tamaki and her introduction into a sport that she’d never anticipated becoming involved with. Unlike powered aircraft, gliders lack the power to fly against heavy winds and cannot sustain a vertical climb. However, rather than using brute force to oppose the weather and gravity, gliders operate by utilising environment conditions to provide lift. This becomes appropriate for Tamaki; she’d gone through high school as a volleyball player and sported a boisterous, rambunctious disposition which dampened her love life. By university, Tamaki desires to play a lower-profile sport with the hope of turning things around. However, when she joins the Aonagi Aviation Club, she appears to set aside her wishes for romance and pursues flight whole-heartedly. Despite a rough start with the club, and clashing vocally with Daisuke, Tamaki rapidly acclimatises to flying. Much as how a glider pilot catches onto thermals and updrafts to stay aloft, Tamaki makes the most of every moment she’s in without forcing her original goal of romance. Her initial goal of paying off the damages to the glider she’d caused Daisuke to wreck eventually transforms into a desire to embrace the open skies and sees the world that Jun sees. Tamaki’s natural prowess with a glider draws parallels her Tamaki’s open-mindedness; while she struggles with the theory, Jun decides to hedge his bets on her after spotting Tamaki’s uncommon ability to fly. Her skills draw the ire of Hannan pilots, but with this same open mind, Tamaki is able to get them to come around – she gains a semi-friendly rivalry with hotshot Kaede, and even manages to reconcile with her half-sister. Through Tamaki and the use of gliders, Blue Thermal shows how freedom is found in possessing an open mind and by rolling with the punches. Much as how gliders can stay in the skies and reach new heights by working with, rather than against, nature, Tamaki finds herself enriched beyond expectations by taking challenges in stride and approaching problems with a plucky, determined attitude. In doing so, Tamaki comes to discover what she’d wanted when she’d entered university.

The transition from secondary to post-secondary is a tumultuous time, of growing accustomed to large lecture halls, challenging material and unyielding schedules, as well as the unparalleled freedom of being in post-secondary and pursuing activities geared towards one’s future. Post-secondary, even more so than high school, is the definitive time to discover oneself and understand one’s strengths. When Tamaki enters university, however, her major isn’t even stated, and Tamaki herself states as much: she’s here to reinvent herself and is most enthusiastic about having a colourful love life. However, when everything changes, Tamaki suddenly develops a keen love for the skies and the freedom it represents. In the skies, she finds the strength to be herself: despite having been rejected earlier for being too loud, Tamaki embraces who she is and never hesitates to speak her mind. When Kaede mocks her for being a novice, Tamaki stands her ground and ends up surprising him. The pair might not get along swimmingly as peas in a pod, but form a begrudging respect for one another. Similarly, Tamaki ends up being the one to ask the Glider Club’s advisors for permission to continue on in the national competition even after news of Jun’s accident reaches their ears. Although the advisors had been looking to withdraw since the news might create unsafe conditions, Tamaki feels that Jun would’ve wished for them to continue flying for their sake. While the others hesitate to express this, Tamaki becomes the first to voice her desires. Being with the Aviation Club and being exposed to the skies’ vastness, helps Tamaki to reaffirm that she didn’t need to change, and at the film’s climax, after she helps Aonagi to win the national championship, her first action is to implore Yō, Jun’s benefactor, to give her a chance to locate him in Germany. Blue Thermal shows how important it is that one is able to be true to themselves, and while Tamaki had originally wanted to become someone who could be more successful at love, joining the Aviation Club would provide her the space in where she could be herself, and in this way, she becomes better equipped to pursue goals on her own terms. Although Blue Thermal dispenses with the romance piece after Tamaki joins the Aviation Club, she comes to discover a new love for the open skies – had she followed through with her original goal, Tamaki might not have had such an opportunity to be true to herself.

Blue Thermal‘s outcomes are touching, and seeing Tamaki make considerable strides in the film was rewarding. However, despite its runtime, Blue Thermal has a lot of moving parts. Jun’s precise relationship with Yō is never explored in greater detail, and similarly, Tamaki ends up getting along with Daisuke despite a rough start. Chizuru manages to overcome her dislike for Tamaki on her own terms rather than through any actions from Tamaki’s part. With the large number of characters in Blue Thermal, many of the ancillary stories go unexplored, leaving the impression that a bit of magic was involved in helping the other characters to find resolution. Even Tamaki’s own ending is open: while she meets up with Jun in the end and shares a tearful moment together, the outcomes are not explored beyond this. The idea of an open ending is one of controversy – a closed ending offers a definitive and satisfying conclusion, decisively showing the reader or viewer that a resolution was reached. Conversely, open endings can be confusing, and the lack of closure may undermine a story’s themes. In the case of Blue Thermal, a coming-of-age drama, the open ending and focus on Tamaki at the expense of presenting a better-fleshed out path for the other characters is appropriate; the film is told from her perspective, drawing parallels with how in reality, one is limited to their own perspective. The folks around oneself often find their own meaningful solutions to problems and make their own decisions without involving others in their thought process. Individuals may catch glimpses into things and even contribute in some way, but ultimately, the process is nowhere nearly as detailed or vivid as one’s own experiences. The approach in Blue Thermal, then, is to parallel this – things that Tamaki experience are incredibly intricate, but the things that happen to those around her are less clear, even chaotic. Daisuke ends up quitting the Aviation Club to pursue his studies but decides to stay on to see the competition through, and Jun reluctantly accepts an offer to compete internationally, leaving his club members behind. The swiftly resolved side stories, and focus on Tamaki, reminds viewers that one cannot be omniscient and know of every detail surrounding every individual they encounter, but with the information that is available to them, one can still make decisions with the information available to them. This is what spurs Tamaki to ultimately decide to keep flying for both herself, and for Jun’s sake. In providing viewers with just enough information to see what motivates Tamaki, her growth remains plausible and natural – even if Blue Thermal does end on an open note, one can suppose that reuniting with Jun allows Tamaki to see what the open skies now mean to her.

Screenshots and Commentary

• I still vividly remember my first day of university: my first-ever lecture was health inquiry, and the lecturers opened by stating that there was more to university than memorisation. After the class ended, the lecturers indicated that research was central to health sciences and told us to keep our eyes out for emails coming from the programme coordinator for a list of lab tours. It was through the lab tours that I would find the lab I’d apply to and subsequently become a member of. Unlike Tamaki, who joins the Aviation Club by wrecking one of their gliders, I ended up receiving a position by volunteering, since I’d come up short when applying for undergraduate summer studentships.

• While I started out in the lab as a volunteer, two months in, my supervisor was impressed with how quickly I picked up the in-house game engine and built an agent-based model of blood oxygenation and deoxygenation, in which red cells could independently keep track of their oxygenation state. This project would not be used for anything, but piqued my curiosity in agent-based modelling, eventually resulting in my undergraduate thesis work. For the course of my research, while I never went to competitions, I did participate in numerous presentations, helped with lab tours, and even gave television interviews with other members of the lab.

• Tamaki’s journey is no less impressive, and while she starts Blue Thermal a greenhorn that Daisuke is intent on keeping in a low-ranking position, Jun eventually takes a liking to her. Tamaki’s first day with the Aviation Club starts out roughly, and she initially joins on only so she can work off the damages caused to the glider. The Aviation Club’s activities are set in the plains of Japan just outside of Tokyo, a setting that isn’t often explored in anime – most of the series I watch are set in the heart of Tokyo, coastal areas or highly rural regions.

• Tamaki is basically Houkago Teibou Nisshi‘s Hina Tsurugi and Yama no Susume‘s Aoi Yukimura– although sporting a friendly and cheerful demeanour, when provoked, she becomes pouty and foul-mouthed. This set of personality traits is unlike the archetype for most slice-of-life series, but it works well enough in series with a larger drama piece; while adorable and fluffy characters are enjoyable, their happy-go-lucky nature precludes any conflict which drives growth. Tamaki only minimally tolerates Daisuke and sets about doing what he asks, but her fortunes turn around when Jun invites her to fly with him.

• After taking to the skies, Tamaki channels her inner Aoi and Hina – the choice to use chibi expressions in a series that otherwise felt serious initially felt dubious, but it actually serves an important purpose, lightening up a scene and allowing viewers to relax a little. This is the author’s way of reminding viewers that the work isn’t all-business, and seeing a more human side to the characters help viewers to connect with the characters better. Of course, more serious characters, like Jun, aren’t given the same treatment; this suggests to me that some characters are meant to be more adorable or comical than others.

• The visuals in Blue Thermal are befitting of a movie, being above-average in terms of detail and fluidity – the film is produced by Telecom Animation Film, which had previously assisted Studio Ghibli to produce films including Laputa: Castle in the Sky, Spirited Away and The Wind Rises. While the character designs of Blue Thermal are a cross between Makoto Shinkai (Jun resembles the some of Makoto Shinkai’s characters in appearance and presence) and lighter series, the background artwork and overall animation are detailed and smooth.

• Use of spacing in a frame can help clarify the emotional tenour of a moment, although here in Blue Thermal, such techniques almost feel unnecessary, as the use of chibi expressions speak volumes to what’s on Tamaki’s mind – she’s clearly enjoyed the flight but is reluctant to pursue the club activities, since such a path conflicts with her own desires, but on the flipside, Tamaki also has a sense of integrity about her, and feeling poorly about wrecking the glider, Tamaki cannot help but feel responsible for winning a competition to pay off the damages.

• Daisuke barely contains his jealousy that Tamaki got to fly with Jun despite being a newcomer. A part of Tamaki becomes motivated to continue flying now; one aspect about her personality that stood out is that she’s a little vindictive, and in conjunction with a willingness to speak her mind, Tamaki stands out as a protagonist in that her mannerisms seem to be at odds with her appearances. These traits ultimately drive what occurs in Blue Thermal, and Tamaki ends up staying with the Aviation Club.

• Daisuke takes Tamaki to receive her medical check-up and helps her to pick up a learner’s permit. However, when Daisuke badmouths her, she immediately responds by trying to beat up Daisuke. The dynamic between the pair reminds me of Angel Beats!‘ Hideki Hinata and Yui – the pair initially clashed at every turn, but over the course of the show, Hideki and Yui ended up falling for one another. This unlikely pairing shows how love can manifest between even people who outwardly appear incompatible. Angel Beats! was especially moving in this regard, and seeing the conflict between Daisuke and Tamaki created a curious possibility in Blue Thermal.

• However, Blue Thermal‘s romance piece appears secondary to Tamaki’s experiences in the Aviation Club – after Daisuke helps get Tamaki set up and even chases after her to ensure she’ll pay him back, not much more comes out of things. Instead, things fast forward to a critical point in the Aviation Club – promising new members will have the chance to now fly a glider for themselves because Aonagi’s Aviation Club is serious about competition. In Japan, opportunity is often awarded based on seniority rather than skill, so any time there’s mention that skill and merit come first, one knows that things are getting serious and will invariably give the newcomers there time to shine.

• This is something that happened in Hibike! Euphonium, and this created all sorts of drama, leading to schisms and disagreements. This is fortunately not the case in Blue Thermal – all of the club members appreciate that their ability to fly is based on skill, and there seems to be no lingering hard feelings amongst the club members who aren’t selected. Depending on what a story intends to do, different things will set off drama, and there is no right or wrong way of doing things, so long as things remain consistent within the story itself.

• Here, Yukari Muroi and Tamaki catch a breather before Ayako Maki, another club member, approaches Yukari and indicates that her custom overalls are a little too small. Yukari has an idol-like presence about her, and while she feels like an ojou-sama in appearance and through her choice of pink overalls, she gets along with the other club members very well. Characters whose actions are contrary to how their archetypes are portrayed in other series can make for an interesting work, reminding viewers that appearances can be deceiving, and it is hardly a good idea to pre-emptively judge characters early into the game.

• Once her turn comes up, Tamaki is invited to take the controls of the glider under Jun’s supervision, and the experience proves to be a thrilling one for her – she’s clearly a fast learner and, despite having spent almost no time studying the theory and touching up on the basics, she appears to have a knack for picking things up in a practical sense. Once Jun transfers controls over to her, she intuitively takes over and begins taking her first steps towards becoming a capable glider pilot. Jun certainly seems to have high regard for Tamaki’s potential, and while one might wonder what the basis is for Jun’s assessment is because Blue Thermal doesn’t explicitly state this, it is possible to suppose that watching Tamaki handle things in the cockpit helps Jun to make his conclusion.

• Of course, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows for Tamaki – although Jun certainly treats her kindly, she’s still a novice, and after she accidentally loses a screwdriver, she accompanies the mechanical team in searching for it. Tamaki is on the verge of tears at the thought of having let everyone down, and it is likely the case that after this incident, Tamaki becomes more mature and responsible as a result of her learnings. Many of the plot points in Blue Thermal are implicit; the film’s got a lot of elements, and only a limited runtime, so only the most important moments are shown. For viewers who dislike ambiguity, this film will not likely work for them.

• The flight sequences in Blue Thermal are among my most favourite parts of the film – as Tamaki soars over the Japanese countryside, all of her worries appear to become left behind on the ground. Tamaki improves gradually to the point where she is able to fly solo, and on her first flight alone, she marvels at the sort of freedom being in the skies confers. For me, I admit that the lack of a pair of Pratt & Whitney engines providing thousands of pounds of thrust does feel limiting, but this is because I’m used to using engines to push through currents while pursuing bogies in air combat arcade games. However, in real gliding, experienced pilots work with, rather than against the currents, and this is what makes Blue Thermal so enjoyable.

• Rather than resisting a force, or adversity, Blue Thermal‘s metaphor lies in embracing a force and going with the flow. At training camp, Tamaki becomes more familiar with the glider and its properties: one could say she’s rising to new heights with her experience, and here, one must surmise that she’s slowly picking up the theory, as well. While a lot of environments favour teaching theory to people first before any practical training takes place, I have found that there are cases where it’s useful to have people get hands-on learning, since this allows one to map something they can do to a theoretical concept.

• As Tamaki becomes more confident in herself, she becomes as energetic and forward as she’d been previously. It is the case that over time, people begin showing their true selves to others as they open up. Sometimes, this is for the better, as seemingly shy and quiet people contribute more to the team, but at other times, this creates problems, as people begin to slack off. Seeing the real Tamaki at the Aonagi Aviation Club’s training camp elevates things, as she brings a newfound energy to things, and she ends up becoming much closer to Yukari and Ayako, along with Eita Narihara, a photographer.

• With the first training club drawing to a close, one of the advisors indicates that the first year students have made excellent progress, and Aviation Club sits down to udon for dinner. Tamaki is shown enjoying her meal; while not much of Tamaki’s likes and dislikes are shown directly, simple moments like these speak volumes about characters. Tamaki clearly loves her food, and as such, it is possible to say that meals represents a time for her to unwind. I’m very similar in this regard, and one of my hobbies, albeit one I partake in with reduced frequency compared to watching anime and lifting weights, is going around and trying different foods out.

• Over the past weekend, I ended up capitalising on the first of my days off to go for a ten-kilometre walk that took me to two viewpoints affording a view of the city centre, and while it had been mostly cloudy with a trace of smoke, the morning weather proved surprisingly hot. I ended up completing the walk exhausted, but pleased, and then decided to take the trains into the deep south of the city to revisit Waffles & Chix. This time, they were open, and I was greeted by friendly staff. I ended up ordering the Nashville Fried Chicken Poutine, which has a ways more kick and zest than regular fried chicken. I wasn’t sure if this was a limited time offering, so I decided to give it a go, and I was blown away by both the taste and quantity: the chicken was crunchy outside, moist and tender inside, and the poutine itself was piping hot, melting the cheese into the poutine.

• With two poutines in a week, I’m content to try other foods out when I go out next, and return discussions to Blue Thermal, where the club members review Jun’s impressive performance with the advisor. Here, Tamaki and Yukari learn of how many universities there are that actually participate in the competition: winning is a very tall order on account of the fact that there are many universities with excellent teams, but Tamaki remains as motivated as ever to make it into the championships and secure the title.

• While a surprise call with Yō, Jun’s benefactor, leaves him deep in thought, he still has time for a conversation with Tamaki, who’s fired up and ready to do her best. One can reasonably gather that Jun is beholden to Yō on account of previous dealings, and here, it would appear that Jun’s main interest in Tamaki lies in the fact that she’s learnt so quickly. Since she possesses such potential, Jun feels that she might be a worthy successor to continue helping Aonagi’s Aviation Club out. Jun possesses similar traits to Children Who Chase Lost Voices‘s Ryūji Morisaki, who was similarly talented in his field and took to the female lead because she’d exhibited the potential to help him out, which left me with a bit of caution surrounding Jun and his intentions.

• Like Girls und Panzer, clubs from different universities do arrange to train together, and as it turns out, Aonagi ends up practising against Hannan, a school with an impressive Aviation Club. Blue Thermal skips many of the intermediate moments in favour of presenting the most standout highlights of Tamaki’s time in Aonagi’s Aviation Club, and this casues the movie to have a very energetic, peak-to-valley feeling about it. Here, the advisor disappoints Aoyaki, Yukari and Tamaki when he indicates that this training camp comes with unlimited onsen access: the students had been looking forward to a more summer-y set of activities on top of their training.

• When the two clubs meet for the first time, Hannan’s club leader, Chizuru Yano, immediately takes a disliking to Tamaki and indicates that so long as Tamaki is present, Hannan will sit things out. Tamaki later explains that Chizuru is her half-sister, but her parents divorced, and since then, she’d never gotten along with Chizuru. The distance between Tamaki and Chizuru is something that arose as a consequence, and here, I got Girls und Panzer vibes; Chizuru’s presence feels distinctly similar to Maho’s. However, unlike Maho, who’s simply quiet, Chizuru is openly hostile towards Tamaki.

• Later, Jun explains the route that will be flown during this training exercise: the presence of mountains will make for a trickier traversal, but the numerous updrafts resulting from the terrain also can be capitalised upon. When Jun had taken Tamaki into the skies, he’d utilised a thermal to do so. This is done to maximise the amount of altitude a glider can obtain before setting off for a course, and brought to mind how the U-2 took off in a MythBusters episode, climbing in a spiral above the airfield after becoming airborne. The U-2’s design is actually inspired by a glider, allowing the aircraft to stay aloft for extremely long periods at a time. What gave the U-2 its incredible flight endurance also made the U-2 exceptionally difficult to fly.

• Of all the characters in Blue Thermal, Tamaki tends to take on the rounded, chibi-fied traits the most, even when things appear serious. Jun infuriates Chizuru by suggesting that he’s willing to take Tamaki up in a two-seater when they’re going on a training run of the course: Blue Thermal explains, for the viewer’s benefit, that a two-seater has a lower glide ratio (how much altitude is lost per unit distance travelled) than a one-seater, and to Chiruzu, it would seem that Jun is intentionally showing her that the differences in their skill are non-trivial (it’s akin to taking a performance handicap in an FPS by foregoing primary weapons and sticking only to a knife).

• While some of the other pilots have trouble flying, Hannan’s team successfully completes the gruelling course. When it’s time for Tamaki and Jun to fly, they end up deviating significantly from the designated route and return nearly two hours later than expected. The ground crews are overwhelmingly relieved to see the pair’s glider on approach for landing, and up here, Blue Thermal offers no insight as to what must’ve gone through Jun’s mind as he did this. A pilot of his skill level would not suffer this by accident, so it’s clear that something is bothering Jun.

• The idea of going off a stipulated course brings to mind the likes of the 2001 film, Behind Enemy Lines, in which flight officer Chris Burnett and pilot Jeremy Stackhouse are sent out on a reconnaissance flight on Christmas Day, only to become shot down by rogue Serbian forces. It turns out that Burnett and Stackhouse had inadvertently stumbled upon mass graves, and this would be incredibly damning for the rogue Serbian forces involved. Blue Thermal has no such outcomes, leaving the precise nature of the flight that Jun and Tamaki takes ambiguous.

• Tamaki collapses from exhaustion despite expressing joy at having remained in the skies for so long. I am reminded of a note I picked up when learning to drive for the first time; it is recommended that drivers take a quarter-hour breaks every two hours to avoid fatigue. Fully-qualified pilots in the air force similarly remain airborne for a maximum of two hours, although reconnaissance pilots, such as those operating the U-2, have flown eight hour missions in a cramped cockpit. To a novice like Tamaki, even a two hour flight would be extremely tiring.

• In the aftermath, Daisuke looks after Tamaki and is clearly worried about her, even going so far as to almost physically reprimand Jun for having undertaken such actions. However, he contends himself with a dirty look and rushes out the door. In the time since Blue Thermal started, Daisuke’s come around regarding Tamaki and now sees her as a full-fledged member of the Aviation Club. Viewers are not given a blow-by-blow of the progress in Blue Thermal, but enough information is given so that one can fill in the blanks for themselves. A romance between Tamaki and Daisuke thus comes to mind for viewers.

• When Tamaki awakens and leaves her room, she runs into Daisuke, who decides to accompany her, and he even lends her his coat. Upon spotting a sea of clouds over the mountains, Tamaki expresses her love of the skies fully to Daisuke, who has, by now, fully embraced Tamaki as a part of the club. An inset song plays here, suggesting that Daisuke and Tamaki have become closer as club members and even friends. Jun manages to catch a glimpse of Daisuke taking Tamaki back into the building. He smiles, suggesting a joy that Daisuke has come around, too.

• The observant viewer will have noticed that by this point in time, Tamaki is spending a great deal of time with Yukari, Ayako and Eita. After a night’s rest, Tamaki’s in fine spirits, and she enjoys breakfast with enthusiasm. Although Tamaki is quick to recover and feels ready to fly again, Jun encourages her to continue resting. There is wisdom in doing so; even after recovering, it takes the body a bit of time to get back to the point where one can take on strenuous tasks again. The moment brings back a similar scenario in Yuru Camp△, where Sakura who forbids Nadeshiko from immediately joining Rin after her fever subsides.

• While the training camp continues, Tamaki feels like she hadn’t contributed in any meaningful way because she’d been unable to fly for most of it. What she does with this time is not shown, but the opening would likely allow her to brush up on theory and potentially catch up on coursework; I remember how during my first year, I struggled to keep up with everything because every single course I took had weekly assignments, biweekly quizzes, two midterms and a final. The only exception to this rule was my medical inquiry course, which had papers in place of midterms and finals, but to a first-year unaccustomed to writing papers, this was tricky.

• It wasn’t until my third year where I was able to occasionally cut lectures for attendance at symposiums and the like, and even then, this demanded a bit of planning from me in order to pull off. While I wasn’t part of any student society or clubs, I continued to remain a member of the lab I’d joined; this was impressed upon me at the end of my second summer, when I tried returning the lab keys, and my supervisor approached me and said that wouldn’t be necessary. The keys I picked up would therefore remain with me until I graduated from my Master’s programme some five years later. During those five years, I would help out on various presentations and events around campus, even representing the lab with another graduate student when our supervisor had a conflicting event.

• After Tamaki reveals to her newfound friends her original intention for joining, they immediately rush off and clarify that there is no prize money for competition. Jun suggests he deliberately “forgot” to keep Tamaki on, and here, Daisuke’s interrupted mid-conversation; it turns out that he’s looking to step away from club activities owing to his own circumstances, but Jun convinces him to stick around until at least the rookie competition for Tamaki’s sake. The fact that Daisuke consents suggests that he’s also come around with respect to Tamaki, although it’s probably her plucky spirit, rather than her innate talent for flying, that catches Daisuke’s eye.

• After a poor showing at the training camp, Tamaki begins to put in a larger effort to fly, and in the process, she becomes allowed to fly a glider on her own without a second pilot supervising her. This marks a turning point for her. The sort of joy Tamaki experiences here reminds me of when I drove without a fully-qualified operator for the first time; while it is a bit intimidating, once one recalls the basics and gets into the swing of things, it does feel as though anywhere in the city is within reach. Indeed, as one becomes more comfortable with driving, the open roads become inviting, and this Monday, my last Monday off for the foreseeable future, I decided to take a drive down to Writing-on-Stone Provincial Park in the southernmost reaches of the province. I ended up waking up at six in the morning, similarly to my workdays, so we could make the drive: one-way, it’s almost three-and-a-half hours, so altogether, driving there and back would entail seven hours of time spent on the open road.

• While forecasts had predicted smoky skies, the Southern Alberta skies were surprisingly clear, and after a pit stop in Fort McLeod, we continued on with our drive, arriving at our destination close to eleven. The last time I was at Writing-on-Stone, I was still in secondary school, and I still vividly remember jokingly referring to the Sweetgrass Hills as the Iron Hills: they can be plainly seen from the park interpretive center and are igneous intrusions that formed forty-three million years ago. We subsequently explored the sandstone hoodoos in the park briefly: while we weren’t able to find actual writing (Indigenous rock art on the area’s distinctive formations gives the park its name), there was fun to be hand in trying to navigate the spaces between the hoodoos. Having arrived when we did, it was only 24°C, but after an hour’s of exploration, the thermometer had risen to 28°C. We thus decided to turn back, climbed back into the prairies and prepared to make the drive to Lethbridge.

• While I’ve grown accustomed to driving the mountain highways of the Canadian Rockies and count prairie roads as boring, now that I’m the driver rather than passenger, there is admittedly a fun to driving the open roads under endless skies. Upon arriving in Lethbridge, we stopped at the Mocha Cabana Bistro, a delightful restaurant located in a historical building. After we were seated, I ordered the steak-and-eggs with their in-house hash browns and toast. I’d been longing for a good plate of scrambled eggs (having enjoyed sunny-side up eggs with a poutine earlier), and the Mocha Cabana didn’t disappoint. The steak itself was also quite delicious, seared to perfection. The in-house hash browns, surprisingly, were an unsung star: well-seasoned, tender and flavourful, it made for a fantastic conclusion to the meal.

•  While service here was slower, it really allowed me to kick back and enjoy the afternoon in a cool retreat. Once lunch concluded, we drove down to check out Lethbridge’s High Level Bridge, which is the largest trestle bridge in the world. As the afternoon heat reached 31°C  Back in Blue Thermal, as Tamaki continues training, her skill and confidence both increase: as she falls further in love with the open skies, her performance continues to increase, and her readiness to compete grows, although she does express worry about the competition itself. Luckily for her, Jun and Daisuke both remind Tamaki to relax.

• In terms of visuals, Blue Thermal certainly lives up to its name, as some of Tamaki’s most memorable flights take place under brilliantly blue skies. Clear weather such as this is an iconic part of summer, and looking back, this year, I’ve certainly been able to capitalise on the weather to a much greater extent than I had in the past two years: the global health crisis is looking to be better contained, and aside from a few additional precautions like wearing a mask in crowded spaces and sanitising my hands more frequently, I’ve been able to slowly acclimatise to going back out again.

• During the rookie competition, Tamaki’s concerns about her sister leads her to forgo the practise run she’s permitted to. However, while Chizuru’s openly hostile to Tamaki, all the more so because Tamaki does seem to have a natural talent for flying, Jun completely embraces Tamaki and expresses his high expectations of her performance. Chizuru’s words are those of someone who feels threatened, feeling it unfair that Tamaki unexpectedly showed up and is trampling on a passion of hers. As an older sibling myself, I have weakly experienced this myself, but got past it by accepting that everyone’s got a different skill set, and that one can’t really be overshadowed as long as they put their all into something.

• Although Tamaki forfeited her practise run and is slated to go up against Hannan’s hotshot pilot, Kaede Hatori, who also equipped with a thermal tracker, her natural intuition allows her to find a thermal and rapidly gain altitude, completely throwing Kaede off. While Tamaki’s performance might initially be chalked up to beginner’s luck, she does have a knack for feeling out her glider’s movements and then acting accordingly; even without technological assistance, she’s able to hold her own against Kaede. Les Stroud has spoken of not depending on technology, as it can become a crutch of sorts.

• However, as the technology becomes more versatile and robust, it can become the standard. Until the past few years, soldiers trained extensively with iron sights; although red dot sights confer superior clarity, iron sights are more durable and immune to electronics jamming. However, their improvements over iron sights warrants allowing them to be used as a part of fundamentals training. From this angle, Kaede can be seen as not utilising his edge to the fullest of the extent possible, and as a result, Tamaki pushes Aonagi to an early lead after the first day.

• While Kaede is humiliated to be beaten by a little girl, Tamaki’s plucky spirit endures; she’s not gloating or arrogant about winning, but instead, comes straight at Kaede and demands his best. This side of Tamaki is indeed her best self: while she might be shy in a new environment or when things become awkward, when she’s in her element, Tamaki tries to encourage those around her and doesn’t leave any lingering grudges behind. As a result of Tamaki’s forward and direct pep-talk, Kaede regains his confidence, accepts second place and proceeds to promise Tamaki a better showing that will leave her behind in the dust for tomorrow.

• Immediately prior to setting off, Tamaki and Kaede exchange a little bit of pre-flight trash talk before she learns that Chizuru will be her in-flight judge. Both to help take her mind off things and decrease glare, Jun passes her a pair of sunglasses. I’ve made it a point to always wear my sunglasses when driving, as a good pair of polarised lenses with the right UV protection can prevent eyestrain and undue damage to the eyes. In the sky, UV radiation is even more intense, and unlike cars, which come with tinted windows that offer a modicum of UV protection, the glider canopies don’t appear to have the same feature.

• Tamaki’s distant relationship with her sister notwithstanding, she decides to proceed as planned and fly her best. Seeing Tamaki’s progress in Blue Thermal reminds me of an old argument about how in anime, characters can be seen improving a little too rapidly without much apparent training. This was one of the biggest gripes about K-On!, where Yui’s growth as a guitarist felt “undeserved” on account of how much time the anime spent portraying her sipping tea and eating cake over pracisting. However, these criticisms appear to forget that Yui, when motivated, can pick things up very quickly and put in the effort to master them. However, portraying such moments isn’t the intent of K-On!, and therefore, they aren’t shown. Similarly, Blue Thermal has a limited runtime, and showing all of the training Tamaki participates in would take away from showing her in competitions.

• It appears that on the control column in the gliders seen in Blue Thermal, the button is a push-to-talk switch. The idea behind this is that if every aircraft were always transmitting, radio controllers would be overwhelmed. While gliders are simple and only require one, commercial aircraft have up to nine switches. Early on in this competition, Kaede quickly gains the upper hand with his experience and equipment: he flies in a way to maximise lift and reduce turning angle, giving him a quick boost. Jun comments this is done to demoralise Tamaki.

• As the competitors soar into the skies, the rivers and fields below are rendered in great detail. Most of the anime I’ve seen that are set in the inaka are usually presented as being satoyama (里山), which refers to where the plains meet the mountains, and these areas have been an integral part of Japanese society for centuries, as farmers learned to work their land harmoniously with nature. Satoyama have a high biodiversity, and traditional agricultural practises have proven sustainable. Although the river plains of Japan have seen extensive agriculture, the flat terrain here precludes scenery that would make for beautiful stills in anime. Blue Thermal, in taking viewers high into the skies, shows how even plains can be majestic in their own right.

• Undeterred, Tamaki decides to follow Kaede’s manoeuvre, and although this appears dangerous, Tamaki’s banked on another thermal to provide lift. To her pleasure, things work out for her: their glider rapidly gains altitude, and for a moment, Tamaki forgets that she’s in a competition. She joyfully acknowledges Chizuru before remembering herself, and subsequently reports her position. Moments like these remind viewers that Tamaki (and by extension, all of the competitors and judges) are still amateur pilots; a professional pilot would be significantly more focused and not allow such moment to distract them.

• Being a professional pilot is often viewed as a glamorous job with very unique perks, but after reading Patrick Smith’s Cockpit Confidential, I can conclude that being the pilot to a large commercial jetliner is about as exciting as being a software developer (another occupation that is often glamourised by the success stories coming out of Silicon Valley): for Smith, piloting consists of following routine and safety protocol, responding to trouble professionally and wishing airports had more WiFi. Speaking from experience, being an iOS developer means following schedules and best-practises, responding to bugs with a triaging mindset and wishing coffee shops had more WiFi, rather than stereotypes of going to networking events, giving presentations in front of investors and drinking beer at the office.

• With this being said, much as how being a software developer has its moments, such as the thrill of successfully deploying a build, pilots also enjoy the satisfaction of a safe arrival. Back in Blue Thermal, rain forces the competition to be prematurely terminated, to Tamaki’s disappointment. Her resulting reaction brings to mind the sort of tantrums that Hina would throw in Houkago Teibou Nisshi: I’ve long grown accustomed to squeaky anime voices, so hearing a more realistic, deeper voice in Tamaki despite Tamaki’s similarities with Hina proved quite amusing. After a swift reprimand from Daisuke, Tamaki heads back and joins the others. In no time at all, she’s recounting to some other participants how much fun she’s having.

• The next day, competitions continue, and the day concludes with a barbeque. Despite Kaede being strictly a competitor, Tamaki regards him as a friendly rival now, and surprises Chizuru, who implies Kaede is hard to get along with. When Jun speaks with her, she finally opens up and reveals that she’d long been jealous of how Tamaki could get along with everyone. As immature as it may seem, people do indeed get held back by old feelings, but per Mark Manson’s The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, problems are a part of life, and it stands to reason that slights one may have experienced in childhood have no bearing on who one is now, and hence, things like these aren’t worth worrying about. Talking to Jun and seeing how spirited helps Chizuru to realise this.

• Therefore, it is not surprising that after this competition, Tamaki and Chizuru reconcile somewhat. Although Kaede ends up winning the tournament, Tamaki’s sportsmanship and new experiences mean after her initial disappointment, she ends up quite pleased with how the competition turned out. In particular, being able to meet new people was probably the biggest win for Tamaki, who ends up resolving one of her goals without realising it. While perhaps not leading to romance per se, Tamaki had been lambasted for being too noisy and direct in high school, so being able to participate in something where she can be herself and get along with people demonstrates how there hadn’t been a need for Tamaki to reinvent herself.

• After competitions conclude, Tamaki returns to a more mundane life on campus and finds that she’s struggling somewhat with course materials, as well as feeling a hollowness from a now non-existent social life. One day, while sitting down to lunch, Yukari finds her and immediately hauls her off. It turns out that Yukari and the others have found Daisuke’s resignation letter, and he clarifies what had been discussed earlier: her had intended to leave after the training camp to focus on his studies and realise a career as a pilot.

• Yukari becomes frustrated that Daisuke had left this under wraps, and feels that with how close Tamaki appears to Daisuke, he might’ve told her. Yukari’s remarks suggest at the presence of a very subtle love triangle in Blue Thermal, which would be consistent with the sort of thing that might arise had Tamaki been really playing for a more active love life, and while this is a fair conclusion to draw based on initial observations, Blue Thermal doesn’t exude these vibes. Yukari disagrees and hauls Tamaki off to talk love further. Meanwhile, it’s revealed that Jun’s looking after his mother, who’s been hospitalised, and pressured to help Tamaki out, he reluctantly agrees to Yō’s request of heading overseas to train and compete.

• Yō presents another reason for going about things this way: he suggests that Aonagi’s Aviation Club had become dependent on Jun, preventing them from growing. By encouraging Jun to pursue his fullest potential, he aims to push Tamaki and the others even harder to create pilots worthy of a greater purpose. What this purpose is, unfortunately, is not explored in Blue Thermal, and here, I note that it would have been nice to see what Yō’s plans were. While I have no qualms about filling this in myself (companies occasionally approach universities to scout out potential hires from things like Capstone Project presentations), having a bit more of a concrete aim here would’ve given Tamaki’s fight more weight.

• Whether or not Yō is truthful with his intentions is irrelevant; Blue Thermal is Tamaki’s story, after all. With this being said, what Yō has said is not incorrect; juniors often become dependent on seniors to learn the ropes, and whenever problems arise, may instinctively look to a senior for help rather than work through something for themselves. I’m guilty of this: as a summer student, I would ask the graduate students for help if my copy of the in-house game engine fell apart from a bad pull. However, as I entered my undergraduate thesis, the graduate students had finished their degrees. There was no one around to help anymore, but on the flipside, I became knowledgeable enough about the in-house game engine to troubleshoot it.

• While it’s quite scary, people do acclimatise over time, and learning to have faith in one’s abilities is very much a part of life. For Takami, Yō’s answer isn’t sufficient, and she decides to call Jun for herself, although she ends up learning nothing. Because of how this conversation goes, coupled with the situation Jun’s in, I imagine that Yō knows of the fact that Jun’s mother is in hospital, and may have agreed to help cover the medical bills in exchange for him representing Yō and his organisation. There isn’t much coverage of these aspects in Blue Thermal: in no time at all, the national competition soon arrives.

• While Daisuke had left the club to focus on his studies, his presence here and his reaction to Yukari’s comment indicates that, at the very least, Tamaki has become someone worth cheering for to him. Blue Thermal‘s focus is on competition and self-discovery over romance, but hints of romance occasionally linger, creating a very natural feeling. It is not cut out of things and is allowed to occasionally stray across the characters’ thoughts, but at the same time, romance is never allowed to detract from the film’s main focus. Here, Kaede arrives and sticks up for Aonagi, promising that the only place to settle things is in the skies. This moment was especially valuable, showing how Tamaki’s personality allows her to, in her own way, win hearts and minds.

• Over in Germany, Jun receives a phone call about his mother, who’s passed away from her illness. Jun had been set to go on a training exercise prior to receiving this call, and there is no doubt that the news would’ve dealt the normally composed and stoic Jun a serious blow, distracting him from his exercise. The results are inevitable for a film like Blue Thermal: while professionals might be able to compartmentalise their emotions and stay focused, even Jun is not immune to feeling regret at not being able to remain with his mother. Yō subsequently receives a call with the news that Jun has gone missing after his glider went down.

• Although he had wished to reserve the news until the competition was over, Ayako overhears and becomes disheartened, and the remainder of Aonagi’s team subsequently wonder what’s up. Rather than withholding things further, Yō decides to be up front with everyone. This change of fortunes is not unexpected; anime films are especially fond of introducing a significant confounding development as the story reaches in climax, and since Anthem of the Heart in 2016, coming-of-age stories almost always throw in an unpleasant challenge for characters.

• Thus, while I’d known that such an event was likely for Blue Thermal, the part that remains worthwhile was seeing how exactly Tamaki and the others would handle things. While there’s a bit of denial that Jun could’ve gotten into an accident and perished, Tamaki decides that at least for now, she’ll continue to compete and respect Jun’s wish for her to fly with her best. Encouraged, Tamaki’s teammates echo her sentiment, and Aonagi Aviation Club’s directors allow everyone to proceed: although they’d deemed it unsafe given everyone’s mental state, it seems that Tamaki is still fit for competition given her composure.

• Having said this, Tamaki is still human, and overnight, she cries her eyes out over what happened to Jun. The next morning, she awakens with red bangs under her eyes, and although she looks exhausted, she tries to convince the others that she’s still fit to fly. While this creates for some visual humour in the scene, there is justification for why Tamaki is actually still ready to fly despite her decidedly woebegone appearance.

• This is because crying out one’s feelings is a form of catharsis: allowing one to be with their emotions in a moment releases oxytocin and endorphins, which help to relieve stress. By allowing herself to cry things out, the feelings of regret, it appears that Tamaki has accepted her feelings of guilt and concern over what happened to Jun, and at least for the present, is ready to do everything necessary to fulfil her promise to him. In this scenario, I would likely have Tamaki assessed before she flies into the skies. However, being a movie, one can assume that Tamaki’s determination is sufficient for her to do what she needs to do without posing a safety hazard for the narrative’s sake.

• Speaking to how far Daisuke and Tamaki have come as fellow Aviation Club members, and the respect they’ve now got for one another, Daisuke requests to fly first with the hope that the weather might begin improving in the afternoon, and that this will give Tamaki a chance to be her best self. The weather on the day of the finals is a moody and grey overcast. Weather has always spoken to the emotional tenour of a given moment, and the cloudy skies here speaks to the ambiguity of how everyone’s feeling: clouds can either give rise to a downpour or clear up, and such skies therefore show that there is uncertainty in the moment.

• While Tamaki had just cried her eyes out, her spirits and actions on the day of the finals is consistent with someone who’s got a clear resolve and goal in their mind. Daisuke’s run isn’t the best; the other schools are up front, and this leaves everything in Tamaki’s hands. However, Daisuke isn’t concerned: he simply wishes Tamaki the best and sends her into the air. Throughout Blue Thermal, Tamaki is referred to as Tsurutama, a nickname that comes from melding her given and surnames together in a manner reminiscent of how Yuru Camp△‘s Rin is occasionally referred to as Shimarin. This is a term of endearment, to be sure, and although I imagine it may have been done early on for the sake of convenience, there is no doubt by the competition, Tamaki’s found her place as a member of Aonagi’s Aviation Club.

• As Tamaki takes to the skies, the music swells melodiously, filling the entire scene with warmth. Shōgo Kaida composed the incidental music for Blue Thermal, and while the music is excellent, ranging from common slice-of-life pieces to tracks that capture the majesty of the sky through the use of woodwinds, I’ve actually not found anything surrounding a release for the soundtrack itself. What’s happened here in Blue Thermal is similar to Maiko-san Chi no Makanai-san, which similarly had a wonderful soundtrack that never released. On the other hand, the inset and ending themes are performed by SHE’S and have been available since March.

• Aside from a handful of reviews at MyAnimeList (which largely recommend this film) I do not believe there are any other discussions of Blue Thermal out there. The home release came out a mere four months after the theatrical screenings, and this is somewhat of a rarity, since anime movies now average an eight to nine month wait before the BDs hit the shelves. I note that films from well-known franchises and directors tend to have a longer delay, since there might be additional tie-in promotions. Makoto Shinkai’s films are especially notorious: since 2016’s Your Name, the average wait time for movies to become available on BD after a theatrical screening is eleven months. An eight month wait seems reasonable by comparison, and a four month gap, as we see with Blue Thermal, would be unheard of.

• Despite the slower start, Tamaki’s performance is such that she is able to quickly close the distance, and as the three gliders from each of the top schools approach, the others on the ground realise that Tamaki’s done something that is rarely witnessed: she’s completed her course in record time and as such, has brought Aonagi the title. Tamaki’s victory comes right as shafts of light break through the clouds, signifying a release of pressure. Although this day had begun uncertain, Tamaki’s contributions to Aonagi’s win shows, beyond any doubt, that she had the willpower and resolve to do her best for everyone’s sakes.

• The payoff in Blue Thermal is therefore a meaningful one, in showing how pressure can indeed push people to exceed their limits and discover something marvelous on the other side. While she may not have found the romance she’d sought out, it is fair to say that she found love in a new world that had previously been unknown to her. In a way, then, Blue Thermal was still a love story: I’ve said this before about Koisuru Asteroid, and while people there had all but demanded a love story, saying that its title created the expectation, I find that love isn’t always restricted to romance and relationships.

• Instead, love is broad and can speak to many things. This is why it is such an effective metaphor: in Koisuru Asteroid, it is fair to say that Mira and Ao fell in love with the pursuit of the sciences, and so, the title, Asteroid in Love, makes sense. Blue Thermal establishes no such expectation in its title, but I can imagine that some viewers may have wondered where the romance piece would come in, given Tamaki had entered university seeking out love. The end result is quite different than what she would have foreseen, but it is no less remarkable, and here, Aonagi’s victory is framed as crepuscular rays begin filling the skies, with Tamaki’s teammates note she flies with the gracefulness of a bird now. She may not yet have a relationship to definitively speak of, but at this point in time, Tamaki’s love story is with the skies and its thermals.

• Immediately after landing, a single thought persists in Tamaki’s mind: she’s less interested in the fact that Aonagi just took the championships and runs past her teammates, who have come to congratulate her. What’s notable is that Daisuke makes to hug her, but she sprints right past him and heads for Yō. This moment is subtle, but perhaps speaks strongly to where Tamaki’s heart lies now: Jun had been the one to show her the sky, and in falling in love with flying, it is logical to suppose that since Jun’s experience and talent as a glider pilot personifies the skies, it follows that Tamaki’s also developed feelings for him, even if it currently manifests as a desire to keep flying with him.

• To this end, Tamaki implores Yō and asks him to take her to Germany, citing that he did promise Aonagi anything should they have actually won the championship. The rays of light slicing through the clouds and illuminating the ground below take on a new visual meaning, foreshadowing the outcome that awaits Tamaki in Germany: such phenomenon has long been associated with hope, and when Yō ends up remaining true to his word, it suggests to viewers that in Germany, there is a good chance that Tamaki would find what she seeks out.

• Aonagi’s winning the championship thus becomes a bit of a bittersweet moment: the rag-tag Aviation Club that all of the other schools had dismissed have just taken the national title, against all odds. However, in placing the focus on Tamaki’s desire to find Jun, Blue Thermal completely skips over the awards ceremony to show viewers that the competition itself is secondary to Tamaki’s heart. The metaphors in Blue Thermal‘s ending have a certain romance to them, and in the film’s dénouement, Tamaki’s effort is met with reward.

• On a beautiful morning with perfect skies, Tamaki prepares to launch. While a melancholy permeates Tamaki’s drive to the airfield, once she enters the cockpit itself, it certainly does feel as though in taking to the air, Tamaki is leaving behind all of her worldly problems on the ground. Once Tamaki got to Germany, it suddenly hit me that there was a very real possibility that her trip wasn’t so much to find Jun himself, but rather, experience the same skies that Jun had. There is a certain romance in doing so, as it shows Tamaki had been very much taken in with how Jun had done things. In longing to see what he saw, Tamaki yearns to be closer to him in her own way.

• Back home, Tamaki had launched using assistance from a winch, which accelerated the glider until it gains enough lift to remain airborne. Here in Germany, an aerotow is used to launch Tamaki’s glider. Some gliders are self-powered and possess their own motors, allowing them to take off without any additional support. While excellent for extended flights and providing additional safety by allowing pilots to stay aloft for long enough to make a safe landing, powered gliders are much heavier than their unpowered counterparts and therefore require stronger thermals to maintain lift once their power is switched off. To keep things simple, Blue Thermal sticks purely to unpowered gliders, as they further symbolise working with, rather than against, forces that can be outside of one’s control.

• Despite having come all this way to Germany to find Jun, the open skies here are identical to those over Japan, and in the moment, Tamaki allows herself to embrace the moment. Once she detaches from the aerotow, Tamaki begins to fly in her own way. The gravity of the moment melts away, and Tamaki smiles at the thought of being able to fly the open skies, wondering if Jun is enjoying the open skies, too. It would have been sufficiently touching that Tamaki is ultimately able to see the same blue skies and blue thermal that Jun had flown prior to crashing.

• However, in movies, miracles do happen, and as Tamaki soars in the skies above, a familiar face spots the glider she’s flying. It’s Jun, and he’s plainly survived the crash. I’m not too sure how Jun ascertains that it was indeed Tamaki in this glider, but if I had to guess, Tamaki’s developed a very distinct flying style which combines his own approach with her own intuition and personality. Only Tamaki could go off-course and still maintain altitude, and it does feel as though she’s instinctively drawn over the town where Jun is presently located.

• Realising the strength of Tamaki’s feelings, Jun immediately rushes off for the airfield after getting in touch with Yō, who’s shocked that Jun’s alive after all. I would suppose that in the aftermath of what had happened, Jun had felt overwhelmed and did a controlled landing before ditching his glider, hoping to break away from things and gain a fresh start. Seeing Tamaki again reminds him of what he’d left behind, and this is why he chooses to reveal himself. Upon reaching the airfield and taking the radio, Jun is able to get through to Tamaki, who implores him to return so they can continue flying together.

• As Jun notes, Tamaki’s remarks are probably one of the most unusual, but still heartwarming, kokuhaku I’ve heard: flying together in the skies, learning from and teaching one another, and supporting one another as pilots is a wonderful metaphor for love, so by Blue Thermal‘s ending shows that Tamaki had found her love in a way she certainly hadn’t expected. With Jun’s promise to remain by her side, Tamaki turns her glider back to the airfield, and the end credits begin rolling. The stills shown show both Tamaki’s progress as a pilot and the aftermath of the national competition; it was a joy to see everyone’s smiling faces. Folks patient enough to wait the credits through to the end will be treated with a photograph of Tamaki bawling her eyes out after reuniting with Jun as he wonders how to best reassure her things will be fine.

• With everything said and done, I have no qualms in issuing Blue Thermal an A grade: while the film does leave some lingering questions and resolves points very quickly so focus can remain on Tamaki, overall, I found that the inconsistent pacing and open-ended presentation does not detract from the overarching themes or the strength of the metaphors within this film. I thoroughly enjoyed Blue Thermal for what it succeeds in presenting to viewers. This brings my post on Blue Thermal to a close, and I can say with conviction that I’m glad to have watched this movie. With Blue Thermal in the books, I note that ARIA the Benedizione also released earlier today, and I am looking forwards to both watching, and writing about this one, as well.

While Blue Thermal‘s story has multiple facets to it, the film proves to be quite engaging and worthwhile for portraying a relatable story of how chance events and grit shape one’s post-secondary experiences. Blue Thermal itself is a wonderful film from a technical standpoint, with stunning visuals of the skies above and landscape below every time Tamaki boards a glider. Minute details are presented well and capture everything from the intricacies of a glider’s cockpit, to clutter in the Aonagi Aviation Club’s clubroom to show how rich Tamaki’s world is. The incidental music is well-chosen and conveys everything from the whimsy of Tamaki’s initial, rocky interactions with Daisuki, to the majesty of the skies and the weight of emotion on Aonagi’s entire team as they strive to win, both for themselves and for Jun. What especially stands out, however, is the choice of voice actress for Tamaki: actress and fashion model Mayu Hotta plays Tamaki, a spirited girl who resembles Houkago Teibou Nisshi‘s Hina Tsurugi. When Hotta delivers her first lines as Tamaki, I was surprised to find a deeper, more ordinary-sounding voice behind her: Kanon Takao’s portrayal of Hina was a vociferous and noisy high school girl. This choice bolsters the weight of the drama in Blue Thermal – squeaky anime voices convey cuteness, and Blue Thermal is a drama, so a natural voice is appropriate. However, while things might get serious in Blue Thermal, the film also reminds viewers that life has both its serious and light-hearted moments. Tamaki and the other characters are rendered with face faults during the more laid-back moments in the film, but emotionally-charged scenes are conveyed with carefully-chosen lighting and weather conditions. From a technical standpoint, Blue Thermal is solid, and when all of the elements come together, the end result is a film that portrays the possibility that comes with taking on new experiences from the perspective of a starry-eyed first year student. For folks who’ve completed post secondary or are on the precipice of a new milestone of their lives, Blue Thermal acts as a reminder of how wonderful new adventures can be had if one is willing to embrace the ethos of a glider and gracefully roll with what hand they are dealt: this film astutely uses the sky as an excellent metaphor for this possibility, bringing back memories of both when I began my journey in the Bachelor of Health Sciences programme, as well as when I started work on the Giant Walkthrough Brain project. Like Tamaki, both milestones set me down a path that was both unexpected but rewarding. However, whereas my time as a university student has long drawn to a close, after several life-changing experiences, Tamaki’s journey is still just beginning, and she’s got the world ahead of her; there’s still room to improve as a pilot, and Tamaki’s resolve is strong, so I leave Blue Thermal confident she’ll probably be able to experience the færietale romance she’d originally desired, too.