Looking for an animated film that will catch you off guard? We Are Aliens is a peculiar, groundbreaking psychodrama about troubled boyhoods and the transformations hidden within their journeys — a standout addition.
Memories are strange, aren’t they? They bring back our happiest moments and our darkest nightmares — but almost never the ordinary in-between. It’s as if they’re designed to hold onto only what matters most, making us remember what impacted us rather than what merely occurred — a kind of psychological imprint. Yet some memories remain tucked away, refusing to resurface for years — because when they finally return, they aren’t just nightmares. They cling to us for days, weeks, sometimes even years.
In early primary school, Tsubasa lives a mundane life where almost nothing truly excites him. He has no grand dream and is still trying to figure out who he is. Then he meets Gyotaro — a hyperactive, eccentric classmate with rough manners but a genuinely cheerful spirit. Their close friendship turns sour when Tsubasa begins suspecting that Gyotaro might actually be an alien trying to take over the world. He pulls away, even blaming him harshly. That accusation festers between them for years — a gritty, deeply impactful wound.
The Directors’ Fortnight always hides a surprise tale that bends the ordinary, and this film is shining proof of it. The film incorporates multifaceted psychological dimensions — the mind of a young boy attempting to derive meaning from curiosity, only for that path to lead into darker territory. The narrative divides itself into two perspectives: one character trapped in paranoid delusion, the other consumed by traumatic memories. From this split, the film observes two destructive forces: how anxiety and distress, originating within the domestic sphere and extending into the outside world, can progressively dismantle an individual; and likewise, how judgment, bullying, and cruelty can lead someone toward ruin. Here, director Kohei Kadowaki traces the formation of identity as it emerges from misery — a trajectory that moves forward with seemingly no possibility of return.
There is a complexity within the film’s subject matter, where it refuses to hand us direct answers, instead turning us inside out with theories — real, grounded, yet deeply unsettling. Why do we call bullying a show of power rather than a crime? Does revenge ever bring fairness when it’s built on perspective instead of truth? If hatred is born from wrongdoing, who carries the blame — the one who hates, or the one who is hated? Can a random judgment become an inhuman sin? Why do we believe others’ perceptions so easily when judging a soul? And perhaps the deepest wound of all: why are the silent ones so often pushed aside by the loudest voices?
Kadowaki’s precise animation, screenwriting, and contemporary direction help We Are Aliens become a groundbreaking, peculiar work bursting with the painful realities of boyhood transitions and every anomaly endured along the way. The film extracts fragments of our complex world to illustrate both actual and potential transformations, while also examining the causes behind them. It may evoke the warmth of Koreeda’s I Wish (2011) or the darkness of Joel Edgerton’s The Gift (2015), while partially channeling the coming-of-age flow of Linklater’s Boyhood (2014) — though with considerably more psychological depth and courage embedded within.
After all, destiny is a sly, flickering flame — it may gift you the truth only after the world has already marched ahead, and then, quietly, it draws you in as well.
Our team is on site for the 79th Cannes Film Festival, from May 12 to 23, 2026.
