Sometimes, our losses define us more than our wins ever will.

I picked up this movie not only because of the sheer amount of recommendations from various people, but also because the art style reminded me of Orb: On the Movements of the Earth, which coincidentally shares the same author as the source material. I already gave that show a 10—so what more if I checked this out? And what a coincidence that it came out on Netflix around New Year’s Eve, because this is the kind of media that can change your outlook and mindset for the coming year. This hits hard. This hits at the right moment, at the right time.

The art style and animation—reminiscent of motion-capture or rotoscoping (I’m not sure if that’s how they did it)—emulate the feel of a live-action film. It reminded me a lot of Ping Pong the Animation, except this is more beautiful and more grounded in execution. Yet, like Ping Pong, it’s the kind of sports media that resonates deeply with me as someone who isn’t an athlete or a sports enthusiast.

The visual and animation style gives the characters so much personality and allows the animators to be wildly expressive, especially during hype moments and high-tension races. People shouldn’t dismiss a great film just because it doesn’t resemble the typical shounen anime aesthetic. You still have the music, the story, the characters, and the direction to judge it by. And for a film to be called a masterpiece, it needs to excel in all of these aspects.

__For me, it did. It met my expectations. And I couldn’t be happier.
__

~~[SPOILERS]

The movie follows a classic three-act structure, and I didn’t even notice it happening—a storytelling device I usually dislike because of how it often withholds important character or plot development through time skips. But here, it works perfectly.

The film seamlessly weaves through different stages of the main character’s life, and as a viewer, you truly get to live through his eyes: from a confident young runner who willingly coaches a struggling friend, to his more grounded adolescent years, and finally to his life as a middle-aged athlete standing among the greatest runners of his era. Scattered across these phases are the most unforgettable races of his life—each one defined by his loss to the very batchmate he once coached.

One of those races, in particular, is a cinematic masterpiece: a rematch under pouring rain. The visuals are stunning, the animation is fluid, and the cinematography makes it feel like you’re watching a single, unbroken live-action take. It genuinely feels like there’s a cameraman running alongside them. That choice alone amplifies the tension and weight of the scene—it’s not just a race, it’s a reckoning.

And don’t get me started on the music. It syncs perfectly with the visuals. The moment the runners enter the scene, you feel the hype. You just raise your hands and say, “CINEMA,” whether you want to or not. And when the race ends, the rain keeps falling—relentless, heavy—symbolizing the storm of emotions bubbling inside the MC as he realizes he has lost again. Then the screen washes white. Cut. Done. A seamless, devastating transition.

This is one of the two races that define his entire career—his motivation, his will, and ultimately his fate. These races are the movie. They’re what make you root for one side or the other. There is no middle ground. From the MC’s perspective, his losses define who he is. The film handles the emotional aftermath of these defeats with subtlety, but you can feel everything building up—inside him, and inside you—until a tragic turning point completely breaks his will apart.

That moment is one of the most honest and visually powerful drama scenes I’ve seen all year. It’s heartbreaking in a way that feels painfully real, especially if you’ve ever experienced the pressure of chasing a dream, pushing yourself to your limits, or falling short despite giving it everything you had. When tears finally fall from his eyes for the first time, and he smashes his hand into the ground, you feel it too.

That single moment sealed it for me. This is a masterpiece.

The ending felt like the culmination of everything the MC stood for. The final race did not disappoint—not even for a second. And for the first time, you get to see his rival finally smile. Whether he truly won that last race is left open to interpretation, but after everything you’ve experienced, it doesn’t even matter. It feels right. Official HIGE DANDism closes the film with a soulful ending song, and at that point, I was already done. That was all I needed. I smiled. And I felt satisfied.

My judgment still stands. I loved what I watched.

[END OF SPOILERS]~~

I’m so glad I watched this before 2025 ended. I genuinely wouldn’t forgive myself if I had let the year pass without giving this film a chance. It deserves to be seen—whether people end up liking it or not—because this is a story that will resonate with many.

I hope more people come to appreciate this kind of animation style, and that more viewers stop judging sports anime by surface-level expectations. 100 Meters is a beautiful film, and there’s no better way to close out a fantastic year for anime than with this.