Nekojiru-Sou, with it’s english title of Cat Soup, is a deeply evocative film often described as having a superficial cuteness, underneath which is an absurd and horrifying story. Despite lasting only half an hour, it is crammed full of beautiful art and symbolism, appealing both to those who prefer to sit back and enjoy it for it’s emotional brilliance, and to those who prefer to pore over every scene, attributing meaning to every detail.
It manages to hold onto it’s novelty and capture your interest every time you watch it, allowing you to notice something new each time as Nyata takes his sister Nyaako on a journey to restore her soul. Though the film contains many disturbing themes, I don’t consider it a difficult watch, as they are all presented lightheartedly and in the cartoon style of the animation. There is a general warning for nihilism (including blasphemy), as well as death, cartoon gore and violence. This analysis contains spoilers, so I highly recommend that you watch the film before reading.

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nihilism
hedonism
  violence
rejection of religion
death and Buddhism
guidance on meaning



nihilism

As Nyata chases after his sister, he passes a group of women standing on the side of the street and gossiping. On a whim, he pulls a stopper within one of them, causing her to deflate- it seems she was nothing more than ‘hot air’. Paired with the women’s squeaky and nonsensical voices, this suggests that their conversation was worthless, with their appearance as housewives suggesting they were gossiping idly, in line with the common portrayal of this role. Considering that this is the only depiction of conversation between ordinary people, it sesrves as a microcosm for wider society, suggesting that what we prioritise is generally unimportant. As the woman deflates, her companions pause for only a moment in their chatter, barely seeming to register the event before they continue their gossip. The women’s disregard for their friend’s death further suggests that we prioritise the wrong things and are ultimately selfish, caring more about entertaining ourselves than anything of meaning.
As Nyata runs away, he seems to understand the gravity of his actions, placing him in contrast to the reactions of the women, and hence to wider society. This restores a childish semblance of guilt to him, and redeems him minimally to the audience, reminding us that he is neither wholly good nor evil, and painting a flawed and realistic portrait that prevents us from the black-and-white thinking that can hinder interpretations.

After the circus scene, we see a biblical-level flood that steers the rest of the plot, as well as aiding the film’s representation of nihilism. The grandiose damage of the flood is juxtaposed with it’s cosmic insignificance, creating a sense of futility and absurdity. This is acheived through alternating images: first of the siblings on a boat, miniscule in comparison to the unending waters; then of the globe fitting wholly within our view, with the boat scaled up to be clearly visible.

Since nihilism is a philosophy often instilled by an existential crisis or sudden recognition of the absurd, it seems important for a film whose basis is in nihilism to portray such a revelation. This is tackled in the rich man’s house, after the siblings escape from his cauldron and pull off the top of his head, revealing a mechanism in place of a brain. The art style suddenly switches to be much more detailed, and all surroundings are removed to force the audience’s attention fully on this character. His revelation is abrupt in it’s disconnection from current circumstances, both visually through the stylistic changes and empty backdrop, and through the scene's lack of relation to the rest of the film. It is almost completely still, cementing the notion that the man is shocked by his true nature, and is only now considering his mortality. The only movement is that of the mechanisms within his brain, suggesting thought and the continuation of life despite the crushing feeling the revelation has brought. For me, this is one of the most evocative scenes within the film, and is made so much more memorable by it’s disjointedness. Despite the powerful feelings it evokes, it lasts only a few seconds and has absolutely no effect on the rest of the plot, ending with the man being trapped in his cauldron and abandoned by the protagonists. This mirrors the way similar crises can make us feel as if the world should stop on it’s hinges- yet life continues regardless under the indifference of the universe.

Later in the plot, we watch as God struggles comically with the mechanism of time. Meanwhile, our protagonists wander around on a frozen ocean, where Nyata explores various disturbing scenes of despair and violence, shown sped-up and in reverse. This is perhaps Nekojiru-Sou’s most explicit nod towards nihilism, with each incredibly tragic and impactful scene rendered utterly insignificant through the simplicity of it’s reversal and the indifference of God, conflicting with the comfort many take in assigning meaning to death and deities.

Towards the ending of the film, our protagonists come across the flower they have searched far and wide for. Nyaako regains consciousness, the music swells, and it seems as if a classic fairytale ending to their hardships has been written. Immediately, this facade, and subsequently the catharsis it carries, is shattered with the image of earth on God's plate. A journey representing the enormity of our struggles and hopes has been for nothing. It hasn’t elevated their worth in the eyes of God or the universe, and none of their actions can karmically deserve or save them from this ending. One by one, their family members disappear in static, zipped out of existence. The windchime sounds for the final time, and the screen fizzles out, following a final shot of the family home. The futility of life is made clear here, with our protagonists’ heartfelt journey amounting to nothing, and having no effect whatsoever on the ending of their story. The insult we feel here is due to the impersonal nature of the ending, and the recognition that the universe has no regard for our hopes or struggles. This creates a feeling of meaninglessness and hopelessness, since we are unable to change the outcome of life in a way that matters.



hedonism

One response Nekojiru-Sou presents to the problem of nihilism is hedonism. However, it is presented in relation to exploitation and overindulgence, as a grotesque and superficial solution that is clearly rejected as an appropriate response to nihilism. This is first depicted through the circus scene, where a creature able to control the weather is abused in a performance, eventually causing a biblical-level flood. This is a clear example of how humans exploit natural resources, incorporating notions of karma through the consequences of their actions. However, the idea of an absolute karmic force is rejected when looking at the whole of Nekojiru-Sou, since elsewhere in the plot, our protagonists abuse others and face no consequences. This suggests that while some actions will naturally result in bad karma, others don’t have such a direct consequence, furthering the film’s sense of disillusionment towards hope and purpose.

Hedonism is made most explicit when the siblings come across a large house in the desert, owned by a rich man. His doorbell is a figurine of a hanged man, quickly establishing a blase attitude to the suffering of others. We pass an entire wall of paintings displaying naked and dissected figures, cementing his eccentric and perverse nature. The dining room he takes the siblings to is empty and dark apart from the table they sit at, creating discomfort and distrust as it is clearly built for function over form, despite the man’s wealth.
Though the rich man’s sadistic tendencies have been clear from the start, the protagonists pay no attention to them until they escape from the cauldron he tries to boil them in, cutting the man into pieces and forcing him into the pot instead. Nyata’s support of the rich man’s cruelty during the meal doesn’t protect him from it, and instead puts him at a disadvantage, as his own sadistic fascination prevented him from understanding the situation properly and predicting the man’s aims. This is a clear warning that when we overindulge, we lose our ability to see the ‘big picture’, as we are too caught up in the pleasure of the moment to realise what danger lies ahead.
The consequences of the rich man’s hedonism are clarified as the mechanism of his brain is revealed. Although hedonism has saved him from having such a crisis before, it provides no comfort when such a crisis becomes unavoidable. This establishes hedonism as a sort of band-aid over the cosmic horror of our existence; providing superficial pleasure without tackling the underlying discomfort inherent to existence. Without addressing this, we can never achieve true peace. Hedonism is therefore rejected in Nekojiru-Sou, not only for the abuse it may entail, but for the detrimental effect it has on ourselves and our understanding of the absurdity of life.



violence

Violence is used within the film to depict human nature cynically, and arguably more accurately, especially in the case of our protagonists. Their childish traits are juxtaposed with their violent ones as they cannibalise, abuse, and exploit those they travel with. Nyata’s total disregard for others and tendency to think only of his sister and himself conflicts with the audiences’ natural tendency to empathise with protagonists, as his actions stray far from what is morally acceptable. We then question whether how much he cares for his sister can outweigh his delight in violence, steering the film away from strict lessons in morality and towards a more realistic reflection of life, encouraging us to gain insight through these characters.
Even Nyaako joins in with this abuse, despite her comatose state. This suggests the great extent of the cruelty we are capable of, and supports the notion that violence is a subconscious tendency fundamental to our nature.

It is also used to remind us of the innate cruelty of the world, as we are confronted with both protagonists' mortality within the very first scenes. By presenting death so immediately and bluntly to the audience, we are prepared for disturbing scenes that will disregard their age and status as protagonists. Violence is used here to remind us that suffering is inherent to life, setting up potential responses (such as hedonism and religion) to be later explored through the plot.
Suffering is then contrasted with beauty, as near a flower in the siblings’ garden, we see two bugs fighting within the carcass of a larger, already dead bug. This sequence emphasises the good of our world, and enables us to better appreciate it since we understand its rarity. It also compares the two depictions of suffering, as the absurdity of the bugs fighting reflects the more complex absurdity of death, feeding into the film’s overarching sense of nihilism.



rejection of religion

Another response presented to nihilism is religion, which generally aims to provide meaning to our lives through truths about the universe and its creator, as well as guiding us towards the path of righteousness. However, Nekojiru-Sou rejects this as well, portraying God mockingly. If you feel uncomfortable with blasphemous topics, I would recommend skipping this section of the analysis. Here, I refer to God as depicted in most major monotheistic religions; as an omnipotent, omniscient and benevolent creator.

God is first introduced within the circus, showing off his abilities for the crowd. This depicts him contrastingly to the infallible and transcendent image that he assumes in many religions, through blasphemous and absurd displays of entertainment. The setting adds a sense of mockery and degradation directed at the dignity of both God and religion, as it seems to suggest he is no better than the hedonistic audience gathered to watch what soon becomes a gory show. This fits with Nekojiru-Sou’s nihilistic sentiments, as God has become observable for the circus-goers’ pleasure, suggesting that we have cheapened his worth.
He cuts into a female performer and reassembles her while the audience screams in horror- Nyata, however, is enraptured by the violence. The question of ‘how could God allow this?’- let alone commit such acts- instantly springs to mind: not only regarding the cruelty he enacts, but how his subjects respond with delight to the suffering of others. His assumed benevolence is attacked here, as God is clearly aware of these contradictions, and clearly has the power to change them. Nekojiru-Sou still holds a semblance of distance between us and God, since we can never understand his motive for allowing these contradictions. This pretence of authority is furthered as angels speak to the crowd for him, though this could be determined by his worth as an entertainer instead of the inherent glory he holds as God. By juxtaposing his authority with disrespectful depictions of him, Nekojiru-Sou suggests he isn’t worthy of the reverence and faith many people hold for God. He creates life and objects on the audience’s whim, with the elephant Nyata requests trumpeting and rearing to contribute to the show. This cheapens the value of life, as it has been created simply to entertain, with the elephant’s innate instinct to perform suggesting life lacks authenticity thanks to the power we have afforded its creator. The scene also suggests that God is influenced by humans since he acts on their requests, conflicting with beliefs of predestination and transcendence, and further diminishing his status. Regarding religion as a response to nihilism, Nekojiru-Sou hence declares that intentional creation doesn’t equal valuable meaning if God is just as flawed as humans, and religion is therefore worthless in the pursuit of fulfilling lives.

Later, God cuts into a planet and prepares to eat it. This leads to a comical sequence as one half rolls away from him and becomes stuck in the gears of time, creating havoc as he adjusts the mechanism back and forth until he retrieves his meal, disregarding the implications this has for the universe. This reinforces previous depictions of him as a flawed being, further degrading him through this skit as an object of entertainment, as well as suggesting he is undeserving of the awe and respect many people have for religious powers. This scene also belittles the effects of his antics, as the focus is purely on the humour of God struggling instead of the lives affected by his actions, highlighting our insignificance to God and the universe.
Once he retrieves his meal, he eats messily, presenting him as undignified and foolish. By juxtaposing the montage of suffering caused by his antics with this disrespect to his integrity, Nekojiru-Sou mocks the sanctity and meaning people award to life through religion, since God is uncaring and unaffected by our struggles. He is ignorant to the impact these events carry, neither intervening nor showing any understanding that they’re occurring. This, in turn, rejects the notion that suffering brings you closer to holiness, as it clearly makes no difference to God what you do to please him. Our suffering is presented as trivial and detached from the attention of God. Yet, as we’ve seen in the circus scene, he is fully aware of what goes on in the world, further attacking his benevolence as he appears uncaring of our endeavours, not deeming them worth his concern. Overall, this portrays religion as ineffective in providing meaning to our lives, in part due to our own demands for entertainment and pleasure, and suggests we should reject God as a response to nihilism.



death and Buddhism

Though Nekojiru-Sou discusses religion throughout it’s plot, only one religious figure is referenced specifically. This is the figure of Jizo, or ‘Ksitigarbha’. He first appears after the sound of a wind chime, which is used to symbolise Nyaako’s death. Though windchimes carry many different connotations, the common theme seems to be that they ward off evil and attract good. They ring with a clear and bright sound that welcomes clarity and harmony, at first glance conflicting with their use as a symbol of death within Nekojiru-Sou. However, there are also beliefs that they can guide us closer to the spiritual realm of peace and serenity, comparable to how Buddhist cultures believe death can be a transition into a more fulfilling life in the cycle of reincarnation.
The significance of Jizo requires us to look into cultural tales and his role as a bodhisattva (one seeking the path of enlightenment). He’s a common figure in Japan, frequently seen in roadside shrines and temple statues, resembling the stories of kasa jizo or sai no kawara, both of which relate to the protagonists of Nekojiru-Sou. Within the first tale, Jizo assumes the role of a protective deity of travellers, linking to the journey the siblings go on to restore Nyaako’s soul. The second tale presents him as a guardian of children who die before their parents, which is particularly relevant to his appearance after both siblings’ physical-deaths. I found this section really confusing when I first watched the film, so I thought I’d clarify what happens within this first part here: after drowning, Nyata experiences a state between life and death, in which he attempts to retrieve his sister from Jizo as he guides her from physical-death to the next stage of reincarnation. However, he is only able to return half of her soul to her physical body, resulting in a comatose state that lasts until the ending of the film. This event is also used to give depth to the children’s relationship, as they share the experience and understanding of mortality at such a young age, whereas others wouldn’t have even considered it.
The film further adopts Buddhist views through it’s depiction of suffering as unavoidable and inherent to life, as well as our retaliation against it- such as when Nyata refuses to accept his sister's death and chases after Jizo.



guidance on meaning

By now, we’ve seen Nekojiru-Sou reject both hedonism and religion as responses to nihilism, but we haven’t found a source of meaning that it can recommend. Despite every tragedy that occurs in Nekojiru-Sou, despite the flaws of the protagonists and the cruelty of the world around them, Nyata perseveres for his sister. Early on, he chases Jizo into the night to catch up with her. This makes clear the extents he is willing to go to for his sister, making her the motivator and catalyst for the entire film, and placing a great sense of importance on their connection. The siblings are often presented cynically and with no attempts to soften their negative traits, which allows the meanings they award to one another to take precedence over their individual moralities, in turn suggesting that our connections provide greater fulfilment than isolated self-improvement.
Furthermore, the only time Nyata lashes out- despite nearly being boiled alive, drowning, and witnessing innumerable horrors- is when Jizo ignores his attempts to retrieve Nyaako, highlighting her importance to him. One interpretation of Nyaako’s comatose state is that it results from the message Jizo conveys to her, which resembles the final scenes of the film, before it cuts to static. This could mean Nyaako understood how things would end, experienced the depression and ‘freeze’ state that nihilism can induce, and reacted by shutting off mentally. Yet, when Nyata restores her soul with a flower, she is overjoyed to see him. Despite recognising the futility of it all, she is happy to be with her brother for the short time they have left. This suggests either that meaning can be found in connection and interaction with others, or that at the very least, they make the futility of life bearable.

After observing God’s apathy to innumerable tragedies, we return to our protagonists on their boat, with a calming soundtrack and visuals that contrast the previous horrors we have witnessed. This further emphasises the triviality of both suffering and pleasure. Floating through a mechanical forest, we see several robotic figures working within the waters, with one showing our protagonists its heart as they pass by: after everything they have gone through, love is still available. By reminding us of our vulnerability in relations to each other, we are reminded of the importance of connection in a hopeless world (insofar as we have no control over our fates). While the hedonism displayed throughout Nekojiru-Sou serves to numb our sense of futility and fear in recognising our mortality, the importance of meaningful connections is made clear, and presented incredibly positively in comparison. Our horror at the universe can be soothed through these connections, as we share our experiences in the futility that comes with love and suffering with those around us.



Overall, Nekojiru-Sou is deeply evocative and meaningful, packed with symbolism on the mistakes we make and the solutions we find to the nihilism our lives are imbued with. Despite the anthropomorphic characters and absurd storyline, its outlandish events feel incredibly human and intimate, capturing the sometimes cruel and egotistical nature of childhood, and allowing endless interpretations through its abstract plot. If you gaze long enough into Nekojiru-Sou, it will gaze back into you. This also ensures it isn’t a clean-cut morality tale- a distinction made clear by the lack of response to our protagonists’ selfishness and violence. Though, the film doesn’t present them as more or less deserving of their fate because of this. In fact, the ending’s absurdity asserts that the film is not about morality at all. There is no deservation, no balancing of morality through karmic forces: things simply happen how they happen, and then they end. This instead presents the story as an anecdote- an account of Nyata and Nyaako’s journey, told purely for the messages discovered along the way. By giving the characters’ fight against death a futile ending, the story becomes a parable for our own lives, asserting that however we spend our time- whether we spend each day seeking pleasure, waste our lives on idle gossip, or fight desperately for the ones we love- the end is ultimately the same. Nekojiru-Sou makes its stance clear: hedonism is a vice that can only provide pseudo-meaning to our lives, suffering carries no purpose and does nothing to elevate our status to God, and religion gives undeserved dignity to a figure whose value we cheapen regardless of his actuality. Our care for others, however, is of the greatest importance, as it shapes the short time we have on this earth, and impacts our lives for the better, however futile they may be.