One of Masaaki Yuasa’s greatest strengths as a director is how many genres he’s able to pull off. Some of his greatest work involve dark, surreal, sexually charged explorations of adult psyches like Devilman Crybaby, but he’s equally good at telling wholesome, feel-good stories like Keep Your Hands of Eizouken. You wouldn’t think someone with such a specific style would be so versatile in the kinds of stories that style could tell, but Yuasa makes it look easy. Case in point is the subject of today’s review: Lu Over the Wall, which was released barely a month after The Night is Short, Walk On Girl. These two films are about as far on opposite ends of the tonal spectrum as they could possibly be. The Night is Short is a return to the perverse, cynically charged surreality of The Tatami Galaxy. Lu, on the other hand, is Yuasa’s first project that I could classify a “family film.” It’s a giddily kid-focused fantasy yarn about an ordinary boy who’s life is thrown into chaos by an unexpected undersea friend. And while it’s not perfect, it’s bursting with enough energy and whimsy to rank among Yuasa’s best work.

The story takes place in a sheltered seaside town, one of those places that’s pretty much entirely propped up by the local fishing business. Middle school student Kai is listless, drifting through life. He’s got a talent for mixing music, which inspires a couple of his classmates to enlist him in their band, but he doesn’t want to commit to it. He’d rather just be left alone by everything and everyone. But one day as the band is practicing on the secluded island just offshore (none of the kids want their parents to know they’re doing this, so they’re keeping it hidden), Kai’s electronic DJ-ing catches the attention of something... or someone. See, this town has countless legends about the mermaids who supposedly live just offshore. The old folks speak of them in sinister whispers, telling tales of their loved ones being dragged underwater and devoured by the savage beasts. But the bubbly mermaid girl who’s attracted to Kai’s music shatters all those stereotypes right from the get-go. This is the titular Lu, a ray of sunshine who bursts into Kai’s life, forms a fast friendship with him, and gives him the courage to stretch his wings grow into the life he was always running from. But as their relationship goes on, the townsfolk slowly become aware of just how real their legends are, and it isn’t long before Lu- and the entire town- is in grave danger.

On the surface, that plot synopsis probably reminds you of a bunch of other movies you’ve seen. Certainly, the whole “magical fish girl” setup is reminiscent of Ponyo, and Lu Over the Wall is very reminiscent of that Miyazaki film. But while it’s nowhere near as good as Ponyo, it does wonders tapping into that film’s very particular energy. This is a movie that runs on pure childlike glee, delighting in the whimsy and wonder that Lu and her mermaid companions bring to the world. Characters are broad but lovable, conflicts are sweeping and heartfelt, and the whole thing is packed with moment after moment of pure magic. There’s such careful consideration paid to how the mermaids operate; they can manipulate water in geometric blocks like Lapis Lazuli from Steven Universe, they burst into fire if left in direct sunlight, and they can transform other living things into mermaids by biting them. Following this simple ruleset, the movie is constantly one-upping itself with creative, whimsical ideas. Lu saves an entire shelter full of abandoned puppies by biting them and making them mer-dogs who can live with her in the sea. She loves music so much that listening to Kai’s band makes her grow legs and dance with enough passion to put the world’s best ballerina to shame. At one point, Lu’s shark father shows up on land to help the fishmongers package and ship out the catch of the day, resulting in the fish carcasses coming alive after they’re picked to the bone and dancing through the town. And it throws these moments at you on a near-regular basis; there’s always something new to inspire the imagination.

Perhaps even more impressive than this sense of magic, though, is how real this world feels underneath it. The way the town’s history is interwoven with the mermaids, and how all the different people in the town react to the eventual discovery of the mermaids, captures a genuine sense of community. You’ve got greedy opportunists, skeptics, reverent believers, vengeance-driven hunters, and everyone in between. This is a close-knit, somewhat backwards town off the beaten path, with so many people having so many different opinions, butting heads and coming together in times of crisis. And the movie’s biggest theme centers on the idea of community itself, what it means to be a part of a community this small and intimate and the need to step outside and see the world from a broader perspective, even if you intent to spend the rest of your life in the quant little town you grew up in. Kai and his friends are on the cusp of growing up, and they’re trying to figure out whether they want to stay in this quiet corner of the world or stretch outside its confines to Tokyo or some other big city. Their families are all part of this town’s history, but their dreams have them looking far beyond its walls. Kai, in particular, has no idea who he wants to be or what his future could even look like. But once Lu shows up, the wings of inspiration start taking him- and his music- to places he could never have even dreamed of.

And it’s in that intersection of the magical mermaids and the cozy community that Lu Over the Wall becomes so damn special. It’s an explosion of life and joy that sees the mundane and the fantastic cascade over each other, weaving a heartfelt tale of coming of age, discovering your passion, and stepping outside your comfort zone in more ways than one. It’s just as good at getting you invested in the small-town politics as it is blowing you away with its creative visuals. Yuasa’s animation here is some of his best work yet; there’s an almost 1930s-rubber-hose quality to how this world moves and feels, especially whenever the mermaids are on screen. But it’s also capable of capturing chaotic, explosive moments of awe; a flaming shark racing down the street to protect his daughter, the sea roiling as it rises into the sky, the psychadelic flashbacks that paint out characters’ pasts as moving 60s album covers. There are moments of visual awe in this movie, especially during the climax, that rank among the most beautiful, evocative imagery I’ve ever seen from this medium. And you’ll be happy to know that in a story so enamored with music, this movie’s music fucking slaps. Just try not to dance along whenever Lu starts bopping to the beat.

All that being said, this movie isn’t perfect. You can feel the plot straining at the seams with too many moving parts, especially in the chaotic buildup to the climax. A decent chunk of time in the middle feels rushed and underbaked, with characters’ darkest moments coming too unexpectedly and without proper build-up. There are two characters who fill the role of the superstitious old person with a deep hatred for mermaids based on a misunderstanding where they thought mermaids drowned and/or ate their loved ones, only to realize they were wrong during the climax. And only one of them is actually given any development and story presence, so you could’ve cut the other and streamlined things a bit without losing anything. But despite treading on the verge of falling apart, Lu Over the Wall holds onto the reins long enough to bring things to a truly fantastic finish that makes the whole experience worthwhile. This movie is a joy to behold, one of my top 5 Yuasa properties thus far and easily his best film yet. Check it out if you have the chance; it might just sweep you away.