Based on the homonymous sci-fi/romance novel, To Me, The One Who Loved You sounds like any other Japanese romantic drama — that is until one finds out about its companion film, To Every You I’ve Loved Before. Released on the same day, in October 2022 in Japan and worldwide on Crunchyroll on April 20, 2023, the two films work like a set of intertwined love stories that share their protagonist and part of their journey.
Often abbreviated to BokuAi and KimiAi, the two anime films spring from a choice made by the character of Koyomi when he was seven, unraveling the two completely different lives he lives as a consequence of that original choice. Reminiscent of a convoluted Makoto Shinkai sci-fi romance, the two films fail to capture the heart-breaking tenderness of something like Your Name. In particular, To Me, The One Who Loved You ignores the fun, endearing nature of Shinkai’s characters and ends up with an overly complicated, science-heavy plot whose main actor is more offputting than anything by the end.
To Me, The One Who Loved You Fails to Craft a Heart-Breaking Love Story
Koyomi and Shiori meet as children playing around the institute where their parents work as scientists. Interested in the theory of parallel worlds developed and investigated by their parents, they grow closer, and their friendship blossoms over the years into a natural romantic attraction. When their parents announce they are getting married — which would make them siblings — Koyomi and Shiori attempt a desperate escape into a parallel world where they can be together. Their plan fails, however, and Shiori’s soul remains stuck as a ghost, unable to return to her body, which is now in a coma.
The rest of the film recounts Koyomi’s obsessive research into a scientific breakthrough that will allow him to somehow save Shiori. While this could be an intense, engaging story about love and grief, the characters aren’t developed enough, and the emotional response asked of the audience is hardly elicited. Koyomi and Shiori are certainly cute, but that’s all, and their relationship isn’t based on anything more than physical closeness — the viewer never gets more than a few random wistful, philosophical remarks from them, definitely nothing that could show their personalities, ambitions, quirks and similarities.
It doesn’t help that their love story is cut short very soon by Shiori’s ‘death.’ As adults, Koyomi and Shiori have barely interacted, making it hard for the audience to empathize with the loss of their potential future together. Koyomi’s obsession with bringing Shiori back, which lasts over decades, would be upsetting and painful in a different film, but here, it only serves to make Koyomi intolerable. His stubbornness turns him into a seemingly unemotional, often outright rude person, blinding him to the possibility of a partner in the most interesting character of the story, Kazune.
While the idea of parallel worlds is obviously fascinating, too much space is given in the film to the pseudo-science behind these ‘leaps’ in time and space that make jumping between worlds an achievable reality. Especially toward the end, the effort the viewer needs to put into following the main character’s rambling about jumping with Shiori’s soul into another world to give her a whole new life ruins the experience of an otherwise quietly emotional ending.
To Every You I’ve Loved Before Is More Engaging But Shares Too Much With the First Film
Curiously, despite the absence of a tragic loss, To Every You I’ve Loved Before is a much more enjoyable film. This time, Koyomi never meets Shiori, growing up with Kazune instead. Kazune is a clever, ambitious girl who likes Koyomi because of the challenge he represents for her. Always a step ahead of her academically, Koyomi is forcefully brought into Kazune’s world when she decides to make him her rival, tutor and friend. She even comes up with a crazy, elaborate plan to pretend they are girlfriend and boyfriend in a parallel world.
Kazune’s plan, preposterous as it is, shows more character than any action taken by any other character in the companion film — or in this one, for that matter. Koyomi and Kazune’s love story is dotted with fun and humorous small moments that push them together and are often Kazune’s doing. Although the main characters work at the same institute as the other film, the science here is relegated to the side, brought about only to highlight Kazune and Koyomi’s barely avoided loss of their child and the grief that they might have had to overcome.
While still not a great film, To Every You I’ve Loved Before is certainly a better romance than To Me, The One Who Loved You could ever hope to be. It’s unfortunate, then, that so much of the companion film is relevant to understand the ending, which features Koyomi and Shiori’s final meeting and the resolution of one of the other film’s early plot points, with Shiori managing to “help a stranger without saying her name, because it doesn’t matter.”
Which Anime Film Should One Watch First, BokuAi or KimiAi?
Part of the fun — and a lot of BokuAi/KimiAi’s appeal — is deciding which of the two films to watch first. Depending on the choice, the viewing experience will be vastly different. If one goes with To Me, The One Who Loved You, they will have to sit through a 10 or 15-minute recap of the other film in the last arc, which will in turn cheapen the enjoyment of To Every You I’ve Loved Before. If one starts with To Every You I’ve Loved Before, the final payoff is delivered before the premise is even set. Nevertheless, considering the difference in the quality of the character writing, picking To Every You I’ve Loved Before should ensure that the reader grows to like both Koyomi and Kazune and is able to appreciate the other film too despite its flaws.
While it certainly fails to deliver its promise of a Shinkai-esque emotional experience, the double bill BokuAi/KimiAi remains a fascinating filmic experiment, which may propel other, better projects to follow in its footsteps with a similar structure but a more satisfactory result.