Review: Japanese Anime Science Fiction Retelling — Belle (2022)
SHE
Loves Me
There’s a particular kind of magic that slips in unnoticed—like a tide rising under moonlight, like a story you think you already know until it turns and looks back at you.
That was my experience with Belle (2022). I entered the film with only a vague awareness of its lineage, sensing echoes of Beauty and the Beast in its title and imagery, but not fully recognizing the fairytale until the Beast—here, the Dragon—emerged. And that realization felt delicious. Not a retelling laid bare, but one that reveals itself slowly, like a secret whispered in a dream.
The virtual landscape of “U” shimmers with a hybrid aesthetic: part anime, part reminiscent of 20th-century Disney animation. Paired with its English-language accessibility, it becomes deeply inviting to Western audiences. The music, steeped in pop idolism yet threaded with something more lyrical, carries the emotional current of the film. It soothes. It beckons. It sings.
What stayed with me most was how new this retelling felt. Not only does it shift into science fiction through its virtual reality framework, but it reframes Belle in a way that feels genuinely refreshing. This version is not built on outward beauty. In the real world, she is intentionally average—quiet, unassuming, almost overlooked. The focus instead turns inward, rooting her power in inner beauty rather than appearance.
What deepens this even further is the continuity of her voice. The same singing voice carries through both her real-world self and her virtual persona. There’s something incredibly moving about hearing that consistency—watching her struggle to let herself sing, and then hearing her vocals expand into something confident, melodic, and fully realized to find her voice. It’s not a transformation into someone else. It’s an unveiling. Her voice acts as a tether between both worlds, a reminder that the self is singular even when the mask changes. It’s soft, melodic, and calming, making the film feel like something you don’t just watch, but drift through.
And then, the romance—or rather, the constellation of it. Unlike the traditional singular pairing of Belle and the Beast, this story allows for multiple possibilities to exist at once. It’s less about shifting or swapping relationships and more about the way the narrative holds space for uncertainty. These possibilities ripple outward, touching not just the central characters but their friendships as well. There’s a quiet thrill in that openness—in not quite knowing where anyone will land, and in allowing those connections to unfold without being neatly defined.
The Dragon himself deserves his own moment. A beast, yes—but not one we’ve seen before. What fascinated me most was the choice to give him long, flowing hair—something I’ve never associated with dragons. That detail subtly shifts him away from the cold, scaled creatures we expect and closer to the furry beasts we recognize from other retellings. There’s something unexpectedly comforting in that overlap. I’m not sure how giving a dragon a mane would translate into other mediums such as live-action or literature, but within anime, it's deeply effecting.
Overall, I enjoyed the character art of the avatars in the virtual reality space and the main characters in the real world. I’m pretty adverse to anything that isn’t aesthetic, even in villain characters, so it was refreshing to vibe with almost all of the character designs.
SHE
Loves Me Not
There are small fractures. Brief moments involving stick-figures watching events on their phones felt jarringly out of place. They appeared only a couple of times, but enough to disrupt immersion. Their purpose felt unclear.
The background art in the real-world scenes occasionally felt more generic compared to the richness of the virtual world, lacking the same level of visual distinction. Additionally, a recurring stylistic detail—the drop of drool on the lips of the main character, and occasionally other female characters in the real world—came across as off-putting rather than expressive, pulling me out of the otherwise immersive experience.
And then, the ending—without spoiling—leaves one thread slightly unresolved.
SHE
Loves Me
Even with these imperfections, Belle (2022) is an anime that I would recommend. It's a story fit for children, family nights, or fairy tale lovers. It stands as one of the most compelling animated films I’ve seen in a long time, with an art style coming close to the aesthetic charm of 20th-century Disney. It carries a message that feels both timeless and modern: that beauty is not something to be seen, but something that originates from within.
