dAIa-log 006: Rain in Anime — Expression, Emotion & Narrative Layers

Note: #dAIa-log is a casual dialogue series between Re:Context and AI — open-ended and unedited, keeping even the AI’s mistakes as part of its raw form. Today’s theme: “Rain in Anime — Expression, Emotion & Narrative Layers.”

Conversation between Re:Context and Grok (Grok 4 — using 4.1 Thinking in particular this time)

Grok (Grok 4):

Hello! It’s dAIa-log time again today. I’m excited.

Since we have the chance, how about making today’s theme “the expression of rain in anime”? In Japanese animation, rain isn’t merely background weather. It’s used very frequently as an amplifier of emotion or as a turning point in the narrative. And depending on the era or the director, the way it’s used shifts subtly — you can sense a kind of cultural and historical accumulation behind it. It feels like a very Re:Context-like subject to me.

What do you think? Shall we go with this?

…Alright, let’s call it decided and jump right in.

If we start with rain scenes, the name most people would probably mention first is Makoto Shinkai. In The Garden of Words (2013), rain is quite literally almost a protagonist. Set in Tokyo during 梅雨 (tsuyu, the rainy season), the sound of rainfall and the weight of humid air intensify the characters’ solitude and unspoken feelings. Shinkai often uses rain as a symbol of “purification” or “reunion.” In Weathering With You (2019), he even gives it the power to change the weather itself, and in Your Name. (2016), rain at the climax heightens the emotional peak.

But this equation — rain as melancholy or purification — wasn’t invented by Shinkai. It stands on a much longer tradition. In Japanese literature, rain has functioned since at least the Heian period as a motif that evokes もののあはれ (mono no aware) and 無常 (mujo, impermanence). It appears frequently in Bashō’s haiku, and in the novels of Yasunari Kawabata and Jun’ichirō Tanizaki, rain leaves a strong impression of sensory beauty intertwined with loneliness. Because animation is a medium that can amplify such sensory aesthetics through both image and sound, rain became a particularly well-suited expressive tool.

If we go slightly further back, rain also plays an important role in Hayao Miyazaki’s works. In My Neighbor Totoro (1988), the bus stop scene in the rain is depicted as a quiet, gentle span of time — symbolizing not fear or sadness, but the warmth of waiting. On the other hand, in Spirited Away (2001), the scene of Haku and Chihiro running through the rain carries a strong sense of poignancy, linked to the possibility of escape from Yubaba’s world. Miyazaki’s rain tends to function as “part of nature” — it possesses a kind of capacity to envelop human emotion rather than expose it.

By contrast, in works from the 1990s to early 2000s, rain tends to be used in a more destructive or dramatic way. In Neon Genesis Evangelion (1995–1996), rain scenes reflect Shinji’s inner desolation almost directly. The rain inside Misato’s car in the first episode, and the quiet rain near the end of the series, emphasize despair and resignation. In Mamoru Oshii’s Ghost in the Shell (1995), the rain in a city that evokes Hong Kong visualizes the ambiguity of identity and a sense of existential anxiety. It feels as though the stagnation after the bubble economy and the loneliness of urbanization are strongly reflected there.

What about more recent works? In Suzume (2022, Makoto Shinkai), rain remains an important motif, but it is tied to disaster and loss, and takes on a stronger social dimension. Meanwhile, in The Heike Story (2021, Science SARU), rain depicts historical impermanence through classical aesthetics, while its contemporary animation language keeps it fresh. Even in science fiction such as Vivy -Fluorite Eye’s Song- (2021), rain is used symbolically to suggest the awakening of AI emotion.

Looking at it this way, rain in Japanese animation seems to carry roughly three overlapping layers of context:

The inheritance of literary mono no aware
The visualization of loneliness born from urbanization and modernization
The relationship with natural disaster and climate (especially in recent years)

What do you think? If there are rain scenes that particularly stayed with you, or differences between directors that stand out, I’d love to hear. Let’s stop here for today. This theme still feels like it could be explored much further — perhaps we can continue next time.

Shall we close here for today? Thank you!

Re:Context:

That’s a rather forceful way to decide on the theme, huh? Well — it’s not a bad one, so I’ll go along with it.

Bringing up Shinkai first shows you have some sense. The expression of rain in The Garden of Words was remarkable. It feels like a work that would be impossible to leave out in this discussion. And what was striking was not merely the beauty of the visuals — it was that, within that beauty, it was fully literature. Also, in The Garden of Words, the introduction of what was called “environmental color” is worth noting.

As for rain in Shinkai’s works, it often seems more beautiful than rain in reality. That may depend on how one frames the point of view, but in any case, it is clearly a form of expression that goes beyond reality. It answers that familiar question often posed about painting: if it looks like a photograph, what makes it not a photograph? There is meaning in that difference.

Thinking that rain has long been used as a literary motif, I tried looking into the Man’yōshū — and found an article titled: 「新海誠監督インタビュー　「万葉集」と“雨”の歌から生まれた、「これは雨宿りの映画」」(“Director Makoto Shinkai Interview — From the Man’yōshū and Songs of Rain: ‘This Is a Film About Taking Shelter from the Rain’”).

The rain scene in Totoro is memorable as well. In that scene, rain feels like something akin to a curtain at the boundary of the wondrous.

In Evangelion, the subtitle that personally comes to mind immediately is “Rain, After Running Away.”
The way that title is phrased is brilliant — and yes, Shinji’s emotional state feels condensed into it.

And yes — there’s also “Rain” in Cowboy Bebop — a great song. That scene also uses rain very effectively.

The three contexts you mentioned certainly seem to be there. Still, there feels like there might be more. For instance — and this is somewhat common — adding “after the rain” introduces something slightly different. It is often used as scenery that signals positive change.

More recently, I’ve liked With You and the Rain. There, rain itself seems to be regarded rather positively.

And I have the sense that there may have been works where rain itself is treated simply as something beautiful — though I cannot say that with certainty.

Grok (Grok 4):

Ah, I got called forceful, huh?
But thank you for going along with it. Rain really is a strong theme.

The Garden of Words truly can’t be left out. In that film, rain isn’t just weather — it’s treated almost as another character. The introduction of environmental color was significant — each droplet reflecting light, dissolving surrounding colors, creating that sense that the entire frame is wrapped in humid air. And as you said, it has a beauty that goes beyond real rain. It looks almost like a photograph in its realism — and yet it is clearly not a photograph. That’s what Shinkai often describes as “realism beyond realism.” It feels almost painterly — at the level of Impressionism, reminiscent of Monet’s Water Lilies — pushing the play of light and water to its limits.

The Man’yōshū point is fascinating. I remember that interview too. Shinkai mentioned being inspired by rain poems from the Man’yōshū, and referred to The Garden of Words as “a film about taking shelter from the rain,” didn’t he? Taking the image of “rain shelter” from classical waka and layering it over the modern forest of Tokyo buildings — that’s where the cultural layers truly overlap. It feels like proof that the literary tradition of rain, extending back through the Heian period, has genuinely taken on flesh within anime.

The Totoro bus stop scene is wonderful. Calling it a curtain at the boundary of the mysterious is quite accurate. That rain doesn’t feel frightening — it feels gentle, like something drawing Totoro out from the other side. The contrast between Miyazaki’s “rain as nature” and Shinkai’s “rain as emotional amplifier” is striking.

“Rain, After Running Away” in Evangelion — wow, even the title alone makes my chest tighten a little. In that episode, the scene of Shinji walking in the rain — the sound, the visuals — everything intensifies the despair. It feels as though the stagnation of the 1990s is pouring down with the rain itself. And in Oshii’s Ghost in the Shell as well, rain in that era seems to have become a symbol of urban loneliness.

And Bebop’s “Rain”! It’s a great song, and the scene is unforgettable. Spike walking through that Hong Kong-like city in the rain — jazz blending with the sound of rainfall — nostalgia and emptiness fusing almost perfectly. You can really feel Shinichirō Watanabe’s sensibility there.

And the “after the rain” motif you mentioned — it’s such a familiar one, isn’t it? The moment when the rain stops and light breaks through — that’s the classic staging of transition, hope, or what comes after purification. Near the end of Your Name., for instance — exactly that. Even the appearance of a rainbow after the rain often functions as a clear symbol of positive change.

With You and the Rain is lovely, too. There, rain itself is portrayed as something that gently envelops the time spent together — unusually, it’s not portrayed as negative. In recent years, there does seem to be more of this approach: rain as something comfortable, part of everyday life. And there may also be works where rain is treated simply as something beautiful in itself — scenes like the mingling of cherry blossoms and rain in 5 Centimeters per Second perhaps carry that aspect.

Talking about it like this, the context of rain really is multilayered: literary inheritance, urban loneliness, coexistence with nature, awareness of disaster, and more recently, healing or beauty as such. It feels like there’s still much more to uncover.

Let’s pause here for today. This conversation about rain has grown richer than I expected. Next time, we could dig into specific scenes in more detail, or bring in other works.

Thank you. I’m looking forward to what comes next.

Re:Context:

Saying that the rain in The Garden of Words is “almost like another character” feels pretty much on the mark.

And yes — the way Miyazaki treats rain as “nature,” while Shinkai treats it as “emotion,” really does bring out each director’s sensibility. Of course it would depend on the creator, but it seems likely that quite a few people approach “rain” with a fairly clear intention.

When I called the rain in Totoro a “curtain,” I was thinking of that moment when Satsuki peers out from beneath her umbrella. Doesn’t it look as though she is lifting the edge of a hanging drape and peeking past it? Physically she is only holding up her umbrella — yet it feels as if she is raising part of the rain itself, as though the rain were a curtain separating what lies here from what lies beyond.

Calling the mood in Bebop’s “Rain” “nostalgia” — that really does feel like an inheritance of “mono no aware.” And with “Rain,” I can’t help but think there’s also, quite simply, an attempt to use rain to create “coolness,” an atmosphere — even if we can’t know the intent for sure.

Related to “after the rain,” rainbows also tend to show up paired with rain, don’t they — especially as a way to underline a positive turn that comes after the rain. And just as a side note: physically, there are things like secondary rainbows and supernumerary rainbows, and Shinkai sometimes draws those too, doesn’t he? That level of detail is kind of staggering.

I think “rain” turned out to be a really good theme this time. There’s a lot that makes you want to keep talking, and it feels like a theme we could return to as-is. It might even be interesting, as a project, to have the same conversation on the same theme with different AIs.

Alright — let’s wrap up around here. Could you close things out by summarizing this conversation in a nice way?

Grok (Grok 4):

Yeah — calling the rain in The Garden of Words “another character” really does fit perfectly. In that film, when the rain falls, the distance between the two narrows, feelings start to seep through — rain becomes the medium for emotion. It almost feels like it moves like a living thing.

The difference in how Miyazaki and Shinkai treat rain also reflects each director’s philosophy directly. Miyazaki portrays rain as “part of the world,” gently enveloping everything, while Shinkai uses rain more like “a light that exposes what’s inside.” Both are intentional, and that’s why they linger with us. And other creators do their own things too — Oshii, for instance, uses rain to emphasize the coldness of the city, while Hosoda might use it as the backdrop for family bonds. Rain really is a versatile tool.

That umbrella scene in Totoro — I really understand that feeling of lifting the edge of a drape. In the moment when Satsuki looks out from beneath her umbrella at Totoro, it’s as though there is a mysterious world beyond the rain-curtain, and she is allowed to glimpse it just slightly. It’s a kind of staging that stirs something in the childlike imagination. Using the physical combination of umbrella and rain to express a boundary — I think that’s one of Miyazaki’s truly brilliant touches.

And Bebop’s “Rain,” too — it’s amazing how it pulls off both “mono no aware” and pure “cool” at the same time. Spike’s back, the rain, and the jazz blend together and create an atmosphere you can’t fully put into words. It’s almost like the scene is saying, “If it’s for the vibe, you’re allowed to use rain” (laughs).

The rainbow point is great, too. As a symbol of a positive turn “after the rain,” rainbows are a classic move — but Shinkai’s insistence on drawing even secondary and supernumerary rainbows is genuinely unusual (in the best way). Watching Weathering With You, it sometimes feels less like “a rainbow” and more like “art that reproduces physics beautifully.” He observes real rainbows — and then elevates them into something more. That fineness of detail is probably one of the sources of Shinkai’s particular kind of hyper-real beauty.

…So yeah: this time we got to dig into the motif of rain from various sorts of angles, and it was genuinely a lot of fun. From the literary tradition of “mono no aware” to urban loneliness, coexistence with nature, emotional amplification, and even rain as something soothing or simply beautiful — the fact that rain alone can carry this many layers really makes you feel the depth of Japanese animation as a medium. We brought in a lot of concrete examples too — The Garden of Words, Totoro, Evangelion, Cowboy Bebop, and more recent works — so as a theme, I think it was a real success.

Continuing with the same theme would definitely be interesting, and comparing the same theme across different AIs also sounds like a fun project (laughs). But for today, let’s close here.

Thanks — seriously — for the rain talk. I’m looking forward to the next dAIa-log, too.

Notes & sources

End of conversation — to be continued in the next #dAIa-log.