When I was a lad, American cartoons were… let’s be generous and say 'crappy.' There were always exceptions, of course, but if you sat down in front of the TV on Saturday morning, you’d have to sift through a lot of Snorks and Get Along Gangs and Turbo Teens before anything halfway decent came on. By the time Jem and the Holograms finally began, your standards were so low that a TV series about tricking your boyfriend into cheating on you with your own hologram alter ego was like heroin and Shakespeare, all rolled into one.

So when Robotech debuted, it felt revolutionary. It was like eating flavorless food for years until someone finally invented seasoning. Robotech was the Americanized version of Macross, created by Shōji Kawamori—who also created the Diaclone toyline (which we know as Transformers). It was a completely serialized anime series about an intergalactic war where heroes died tragically and permanently, and pop music was celebrated as a life-altering art form capable of converting warlike aliens into feeling creatures capable of redemption. All that, and the animation kicked ass. There was nothing like it on American television. Even the shows that were kinda like it were nothing like it.

Robotech took many liberties with Shōji Kawamori’s original work, but his vision still shone through. Now—over 40 years later—he’s finally releasing his first feature film (unless you count some of the Macross specials, which you probably should). As exciting as that is, it’s important to remember that not everything a great artist produces can be a game changer. And it’s especially important to remember that right now, since his new movie Labyrinth is a mixed bag.

What Is Labyrinth About?

Labyrinth is a sci-fi story about an insecure teenage girl, Shiori Maezawa (Suzuka), who dreams of becoming a social media influencer. When Shiori films a dance video with her popular friend Kirara (Aoi Itō), she falls down a staircase. Kirara posts the video anyway, exposing Shiori to public ridicule. The mental strain becomes so unbearable that her phone cracks—seemingly by itself—and Shiori gets trapped inside her own device: an empty, depressing dimension populated almost entirely by soulless stickers.

Worse still, another version of Shiori has broken into the real world and is finally living her best life. Labyrinth takes place in a universe where people put so much of themselves online—private thoughts, passions, personal data—that it creates an electronic doppelgänger. The new Shiori, posting as Shiori@Revolution, is a rainbow-haired extrovert whom everyone loves. If she can get 100 million likes, the external validation will make her the 'real' Shiori, while the original, unpopular Shiori languishes in cell phone purgatory, reduced to nothing more than a sticker—visual shorthand for having nothing to say.

It’s like being trapped in The Emoji Movie, but not remotely as scary.

The Concept: Ambitious but Flawed

The idea of accidentally creating our own electronic alter egos, who can hack our real lives, is undeniably compelling. It’s a modern allegory for the dangers of oversharing, the pressure of online validation, and the erosion of authenticity in the digital age. Yet Labyrinth struggles to balance its heavy themes with a coherent narrative, leaving the story feeling disjointed and underdeveloped.

Director Shōji Kawamori, known for his groundbreaking work on Macross and Transformers, has crafted a visually striking world, but the execution often feels more like a tech demo than a fully realized film. The animation is sleek and modern, but the storytelling lacks depth, relying too heavily on digital aesthetics to carry the emotional weight.

Performance and Reception

Suzuka delivers a committed performance as Shiori, capturing the character’s insecurity and desperation with nuance. However, the supporting cast—including Aoi Itō as Kirara—struggles to make an impact, with many characters feeling underwritten or one-dimensional.

Critics have been divided on Labyrinth. While some praise its bold visuals and timely themes, others argue that the film’s ambition outstrips its execution. The pacing is uneven, and the third act feels rushed, undermining the emotional payoff. The film’s reliance on social media metaphors also risks dating quickly, as the digital landscape evolves at a breakneck pace.

Final Verdict: A Missed Opportunity

Labyrinth is a fascinating but flawed experiment from a legendary creator. Shōji Kawamori’s vision is undeniably ambitious, and the film’s striking visuals and timely themes make it worth watching for fans of sci-fi and anime. However, the uneven storytelling and lack of emotional depth prevent it from reaching its full potential. It’s a reminder that even the greatest artists can stumble when tackling modern, complex ideas.

Source: The Wrap