A submarine attack on a ship full of children. That is the entire premise, and the film never looks away. The deformed character designs force you to see them not as figures in a history textbook, but as specific children whose names are on a memorial, whose families survived to make this film so you would remember. This is not entertainment dressed up as historical record, it is testimony.
July 1944: a cargo vessel named Tsushima Maru carries schoolchildren across waters meant to be safe, ferrying them home to Okinawa. The journey becomes a nightmare when an American submarine emerges from beneath the waves. Within hours, the ship sinks, and hundreds of young lives are lost to the sea. This is not a fictional disaster. This is documentary cinema transformed into animation, reconstructing a real tragedy through the firsthand accounts of those who survived and the families left behind. The film's angular, deliberately distorted character designs create an unsettling visual language that amplifies the horror rather than softens it. That stylistic choice makes the realism hit harder: you're watching something that actually happened, rendered in a form that refuses to let you look away comfortably. Produced by descendants of the victims themselves, this film honors the dead while bearing witness to one of wartime's cruelest moments. It's a meditation on loss, memory, and how nations reckon with their histories. Not easy viewing, but necessary viewing.