‘The Summer Hikaru Died’ Episode 1 review: “Replacement”

The Summer Hikaru Died, with its particular tone and masterful blend of coming-of-age setting, horror aesthetic, and BL core, was always going to have a steep hill to climb in the adaptation. Based on the manga written and illustrated by Mokumokure, the anime effectively conveys that eerie, all-consuming atmosphere from the very first moments, as a frantic Yoshiki (Chiaki Kobayashi) searches the woods for his best friend, Hikaru (Shūichirō Umeda). Jump to six months later, and all is not as it seems. With an unfurling sense of grief and dread, “Replacement” is declarative in its intent and its ability to draw us into this blistering world, where the steam of the pavement reflects the horror-induced sweat on the character’s skin.

Yoshiki Tsujinaka and Hikaru Indo live in a small town in rural Japan. Best friends despite their differences, the series conveys their closeness within moments of the opening as the two banter and escape the scorching sun. But Yoshiki can’t let that tranquil camaraderie rest. Unassuming and offhand, he asks Hikaru about the accident he was in six months prior, where he went missing for a week in the mountains. Yoshiki plainly states, “You’re not the real Hikaru, are you?” before his world and Hikaru’s face begin to melt away.

It’s a genuinely stunning page in the manga, capturing the hollow-eyed resignation in Yoshiki and “Hikaru’s” desperation as he pleads with Yoshiki not to tell anyone. Because it’s not so much the eldritch being itself that’s unsettling, but how it bargains. He’s desperate not because he simply doesn’t want to find out – it’s because it’s his first time living as a human and all the pleasures that entail. That, and he doesn’t want to kill Yoshiki. But the implication there is, at least for now, that he will.

Establishing a cinematic scope.

The Summer Hikaru Died Episode 1 explores the aftermath of this revelation, Yoshiki’s own self-destructive resolve in keeping Hikaru close to him, regardless of the personal cost, and establishes the world they inhabit. And it’s incredible. In a season dominated by hot new releases and fan-favorite returns, it’s this rural horror adaptation that has made the greatest immediate impression.

Written and directed by Ryōhei Takeshita, Episode 1 establishes a cinematic scope and lens in which to frame each sequence. There’s an alien quality to how Yoshiki and Hikaru are framed, placing them in the background of sequences as we watch from low angles, their faces often obscured from view aside from singular details—a tear rolling down Yoshiki’s cheek, the side of an impish grin on Hikaru’s face.

Takeshita writes, directs, and storyboards the premiere, with Yūichi Takahashi serving as animation director. Together, they successfully create a deeply unpleasant yet undoubtedly engaging aesthetic. With its low contrast and utilization of colors and lighting, it finds the perfect balance of insipid slickness and natural beauty. The dissonance is the point. Because how can the world move around them like normal while Yoshiki bears this unbearable weight of the truth. And, greater still, how does he reckon with himself that, despite it not being his Hikaru, he’s reluctant to let him go. This disconnect, this torrential storm of emotion, bleeds and squirms in every frame. From ants gathering on spilled ice cream, the shock of sunset that matches the blood Hikaru will later seemingly spill, the premiere thrives in the gorgeous and grotesque.

The Summer Hikaru Died Episode 1 is an overall stunning experience.

Even in the premiere, it’s clear just how somber this series is, despite its necessary and effective bouts of comedy (such as the single-shot screen of Hikaru reacting to a storefront treat). The direction effectively captures the longing Yoshiki deals with through a dream depicted through a series of snapshots. And it further deepens that isolation when the camera takes in Yoshiki crying in bed, stifling his grief that no one can honestly know about or offer comfort to. There are touchstones of typical coming-of-age and slice-of-life stories surrounding them. The storefront they sit in front of to escape the heat. The classrooms they spend their time in and the easy conversation about their favorite manga. However, it’s all punctuated by a wrongness that permeates the story until it culminates in a jaw-dropping moment of pure horror.

Because The Summer Hikaru Died is a haunting. And when the mysterious eldritch force torments the woman at the end, the trail of its essence, too reminiscent of blood, splaying behind him, it unfolds with a rattling punch. The truth of the series is evident from the start. And yet, how it grows and transforms into his horror peak still leaves us breathless.

The range of colors and atmospheric tricks lends the series its sense of horror, drawing on the emotional throughline rather than relying on easy scares. It’s been noted that the mangaka deploys unusual onomatopoeia in an effort to create a desired, unsettling effect, and it’s brought to life hauntingly in the adaptation from CygamesPictures. The sound design, music, voice acting, and direction all heightened and deepened an already thrilling and heart-wrenching experience.

The Summer Hikaru Died Episode 1 is a stunning and grief-laden premiere that refuses to hold back on atmosphere or emotional wreckage. A ghost story, a love story, a tale about the forgotten fringes of rural Japan and the people and spiritualism that inhabit it, the adaptation understands the reckoning at its heart. And it unspools with a glorious amount of color even amid the sense of decay, beautifully in line with a character doing his utmost to cling to a form of distorted life.

The Summer Hikaru Died Episode 1 is available now on Netflix. 

Images courtesy of Netflix. 

Allyson Johnson

Based in New England, Allyson is co-founder and Editor-in-Chief of InBetweenDrafts. Former Editor-in-Chief at TheYoungFolks, she is a member of the Boston Society of Film Critics and the Boston Online Film Critics Association. Her writing has also appeared at CambridgeDay, ThePlaylist, Pajiba, VagueVisages, RogerEbert, TheBostonGlobe, Inverse, Bustle, her Substack, and every scrap of paper within her reach.