🎬心得【一百公尺 ひゃくえむ 100m】by 魚豊, 2019
魚豊老師的作品向來擅長將某種「狂熱」上升到哲學層次，如果說《關於地球的運動》是對「真理」的殉道，那《一百公尺》就是對「虛無主義」的正面宣戰。其實很難想像這是魚豊老師20歲剛從哲學系輟學時的第一部作品，個人認為在層次上比《關於地球的運動》更為優秀。
單人100公尺田徑項目，是一個極為單純的運動，沒有與對手肢體上的對抗，僅僅只有在槍響後以最大的力道轉換出速度、以最短的時間達到最高速後，想盡辦法讓自己維持在接近最高速，直到終點。如此單純的運動，在選手完善自己的肌力、技術後，剩下的是什麼呢？作者給出的答案很簡單：能觀測到的外在競爭，與內在意志的激發。
我認為《一百公尺》最迷人之處，在於每個跑者開頭明明都為著各自不同的理由而跑，最後能拚進職業頂尖的角色們心態卻又殊途同歸，而面對許多現實的態度也能用同樣的方法去應對。
我強烈建議先看過漫畫原作後再繼續往下看，這部作品只有2集，值得花個幾小時重複看2遍，較能了解各角色在不同階段時的心境。
主角富樫的起點：天賦異稟
對成績、社交能力都普通的富樫來說，依賴自己的田徑天賦生活，是最「輕鬆」的選項。這段期間，他的跑法是「從容」的。直到一次遊戲中與人賽跑，在最高速的中段某瞬間被一個負重傷的人超越後，認知到「自己認為理所當然的優勢，不是永久的」，「對輸的恐懼」成為了富樫全力奔跑的理由。
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| 不特別喜歡跑步的富樫，單純因為有天份而跑。 |
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| 生活中遇到的所有難題，只要自己仍保有獨一無二的優勢就全能解決。 |
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| 過度依賴天賦取勝，導致自己更恐懼失敗。 |
怪物小宮的起點：逃避現實的救命稻草
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現實的諸多不如意，僅能靠奔跑來短暫抑制。 |
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| 自卑的小宮，為了取勝與紀錄，能輕易地賭上肉體。 |
現實對照組 仁神：意志與理性的拉鋸
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| 在規則內，理性是無法克服現實的。 |
孤高絕對值的財津：身處頂點後，為何而跑？
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| 「享受緊張與不安。」 |
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| 不安不是負面的，安穩更不是正面的。 |
最有尊嚴的戰敗者海棠：絕望，是可以「逃避」的
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| 將「挑戰無法獲勝的現實」這件事，視為一種享受。 |
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| 我要開始逃（挑戰）囉！ |
主角富樫成長的完成：克服虛無主義
小時候，富樫並非因喜歡跑步而跑，單純是為了「以最輕鬆的方式融入社會」；增長見識後發現自己固然天賦過人，至今為止未嘗一敗，但並沒有原先想得那麼輕鬆，深切的感受到他人與自己的差距正在逐漸縮小，甚至一度想放棄田徑、另尋方式融入社會。
高中時，或許是中二病犯了，富樫觀測到了「田徑社被打壓的現實」，並「想有自己的歸宿、想改變不理想的現況」而努力跑著，但這些都是外在因素，實際上追根究柢富樫仍是不知道自己為何而跑。
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「中年危機」，自己到底想做什麼？ |
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| 「如果想依賴未來的自己，現在就無法用盡全力奔跑。」 |
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| 「認真跑的瞬間，萬物消失、整個世界充滿光芒，現實是可以被拋開的。」 |
最後，引用財津引退時的話：「100米，是將人生凝縮在一瞬間。這距離實在太短，日常中甚至不會注意，衝出去只要一瞬間，剎那就迎來終點。會因一公分的差距而失誤，因一克的不同而毀滅，會因緊張而嘔吐，因缺氧而慢下，正因如此才享受得到高昂的緊張氣氛，存在著唯有那段距離才有的豐富。這段距離裡，充斥著一切喜怒哀樂，去品味至高無上的10秒吧。」
電影版的遺憾與亮點
最後來談談電影版，說實在的很五味雜陳。雖然利用真實影像描邊（Rotoscoping）降低成本，但呈現出的視覺效果卻略顯粗糙，很多行走與跑步動作為了遷就軟體運算，僵硬到非常詭異，感覺是看到15 fps的影格。更令人遺憾的是，電影大量刪減了原作中那些與現實搏鬥、苦澀而深刻的內心對白與劇情，讓原本厚重的哲學底蘊變得過於輕薄。
再來說說亮點，全片的精華與經費全鎖定在最後的10分鐘 — 全國錦標賽的準決賽與決賽這段。分鏡精準、節奏快速，完美捕捉了田徑場上那種炸裂的張力。或許可以說，製作團隊將所有資源都投在「刀口上」，只為在最後一刻讓觀眾感受到那種「賭上人生」的重量。
對了，髭男dism唱的主題曲《らしさ》真的非常好聽！這首歌由主唱兼鍵琴手藤原聰包辦詞曲，從歌詞就能感受到他對劇情和核心意義的深刻理解，完全是把整部作品吃透了才寫出來的，真的是一位非常用心的藝術家！
#Netflix #Movie #Manga #Philosophy #Nihilism #Personal_Growth
魚豊 sensei has always been a master at elevating "fanaticism" to a philosophical level. If his other work 《Chi: On the Movements of the Earth》 is a martyrdom for "truth," then 《100m》 is a direct declaration of war against "nihilism." It is hard to imagine that this was 魚豊’s debut work, created when he was a 20-year-old philosophy school dropout; personally, I find its depth even superior to 《Chi》.
The 100m sprint is an incredibly simple sport. There is no physical confrontation with opponents. There is only the conversion of maximum power into acceleration and speed after the starting gun, reaching top speed in the shortest time possible, and then doing everything to maintain that near-peak velocity until the finish line. In such a simple sport, once an athlete perfects their bodies and technique, what remains? The author’s answer is simple: observable external competition and the spark of internal will.
The most captivating aspect of 《100m》 is how every character starts this sport for entirely different reasons, yet the elite characters who fight their way to the professional top eventually arrive at the same mental state. Their attitudes toward reality can be addressed using the same fundamental approach.
I strongly recommend reading the original manga before continuing. The series is only two volumes long; it is well worth spending a few hours reading it twice to fully grasp the mental evolution of each character at different stages.
Protagonist Togashi’s Starting Point: Gifted Talent
For Togashi, whose grades and social skills are mediocre, relying on his innate track talent to live was the "easiest" option. During this period, his running style was "effortless" and without passion. This lasted until a race during a game where, for a split second at top speed, he was overtaken by someone carrying a heavy injury. He realized that "the advantage I took for granted is not permanent." From then on, the "fear of losing" became Togashi’s reason to run with everything he had.
Togashi: "Sprinting faster than anyone else in a hundred-meter race solves every
real-world problem. And you're the one who dictates the speed."
Starting Point of Komiya: A Lifeline to Escape Reality
Komiya frequently moved and changed schools due to family issues. While the work doesn't explicitly describe his background, one can clearly see the melancholy and frustration in his daily life — a reality he was powerless to change. "Running" became his sanctuary in the crumbling reality, using physical pain to distract his mind from mental pressure. When he discovered that "the power to decide whether I am fast or slow lies within me," he — who was otherwise powerless — gained "discretion to better his reality" for the first time. He became utterly obsessed. To him, being "number one in a game-like race" wasn't just about honor, winning or losing was the only marker of his existence. However, those who run on pure will without technique or strength don't know how to brake to protect themselves from self injuries. Komiya refused to stop even after suffering stress fractures in his legs. Such perverse obsession was monstrous to any observer.
Komiya: "I started learning track theory, practicing, and asking for advice. But the faster I run, the more I realize I cannot beat you. And I simply cannot accept that."
Reality Contrast, Nigami: The Tug-of-War Between Will and Reasoning
As the son of a former Japanese 100m national athlete, Nigami never felt pure joy in running. To him, winning wasn't about pursuing excellence but a "duty" to maintain family honor. Relying solely on this, he became the middle school national champion. His words, "Once you start winning championships, running stops being fun," reveal the cruelest side of competitive sports: once winning or losing becomes a matter of survival, passion and joy are eroded by pressure. On the surface, he upholds the creed of "never give up no matter what," but it feels more like a mechanical self-requirement than a true inner mono.
In high school, Nigami quotes a famous Japanese politician named Tokugawa Ieyasu: "It is a blessing to have a neighboring country as a strong enemy." This strikes at one of the story's cores: an opponent is not purely an enemy, but a whetstone for self-evolution. When an opponent is no threat, it isn't worth the risk to go all out; when the gap is close, one can bridge it with will; but when he is fully prepared and gives his all yet still cannot close a glaring gap, the chasm called "reality" between ordinary people and geniuses is laid bare.
The Absolute, Zaitsu: Why Keep Running After Reaching the Top?
As the "Absolute King" — a five-time national champion and record holder at the time — Zaitsu initially appears nonsensical, speaking in riddles with empty eyes, as if living in a different dimension from those around him. When asked "Why do you run?", he simply answers, "Because I will die one day." When asked "How do you handle your mindset?", he replies, "I do not fear failure, while simultaneously fear it. And I enjoy both feelings wholeheartedly at the same time when running."
In reality, once you reach the peak, there is no one left to chase. You can no longer improve through "external comparison." All that awaits is a lonely view and the fear of being overtaken in the future. Therefore, he must find the drive to continue through internal motivation. When facing negative emotions, Zaitsu uses them as thrusts to push himself, enjoying the tension of "being destroyed if I lose focus for a second." It sounds simple, but how many can actually do this? As for running "because I will die," the protagonist Togashi reaches the same conclusion at the end of the story.
Even Zaitsu, who reached such heights through internal motivation, longed for more external motivation to reclaim the competitive spirit he once had.
Zaitsu: "Since I gained the title of 'Absolute King,' I've lost my competitive spirit. The more I accelerate, the further others fall behind. The scenery I see is the same as the person in last place. I look to my side, and no one is there. Nothing is more boring than that. Records and medals are important, but only an equal rival can give birth to a true champion. A victory won through competing at full strength against someone else is greater than any record in my eyes."
Side note: This was proven in the 2009 Olympic finals. Four out of the five finalists ran under 9.8 seconds. Usain Bolt’s record of 9.58s remains unbeaten even now (2026). A time of 9.8s would be gold-medal worthy in almost any Olympics (the 2024 gold was 9.81s), yet at that moment, it didn't even guarantee a medal. This shows how crucial rivals are for stimulating the competitive spirit.
The Most Dignified Loser, Kaitou: Despair Can Be "Escaped"
Known as the "Eternal Runner-up," Kaitou has not won a championship in the 15 years since a younger Zaitsu appeared. Facing the reality of an aging body and declining muscle power, Kaitou firmly believes that he can win next time. This isn't a failure to recognize reality. Problems don't disappear on their own; if you cover your eyes, you are just running in place. That is entirely different from "escaping with your eyes open, facing harsh reality straight." If you truly want to negate reality, you must face it to have even a sliver of a chance — perhaps even enjoying the pleasure brought by the "escape" (aka "challenge").
Completion of Togashi’s Growth: Overcoming Nihilism
As a child, Togashi didn't run because he liked it; he ran because it was the "easiest way to fit into society." As he grew, he realized that while he was gifted and undefeated, it wasn't as easy as he thought. He felt the gap between himself and others closing, and at one point, he even wanted to quit track to find another way to fit in.
In high school, perhaps fueled by a bit of "Chunibyo" (adolescent delusions), Togashi observed the "reality of the track club being suppressed" and worked hard because he "wanted a place to belong and to change an unsatisfactory situation." But these were external factors; at the root of it, Togashi still didn't know why he ran.
After entering the professional sphere, his friends dwindled, and the "track club sanctuary" vanished. Without external motivation, the emptiness of his internal void became more prominent. He maintained mediocre results just to survive as a professional.
The final straw that crushed Togashi and forced him to face the cruel reality was a leg injury before the National Championships, followed by a sudden contract termination by his sponsor. Togashi felt the track career he had relied on for so long quickly slipping away. He finally saw the "reality" he had avoided for all his life. Simultaneously, he realized his heart refused to accept this — he decided to challenge this reality.
Togashi eventually competed as an individual participant — no coach, no team — while risking his old injury to make the finals. Before the race, Komiya (who had just been overtaken by the eternal runner-up Kaitou in the semi-finals) asked: "What is at the end of breaking a record? Human speed is nothing but vanity. Why do we even run?" Togashi gave an answer that I found profound:
"Humans can never fully understand their own hearts, not even till the end. No one actually has a true place to belong; unity, consensus, and love are just our own unilateral imaginations. Ultimately, to put it extremely, everyone's destination is 'death.' So what is the meaning of life? Nothing is more terrifying than these thoughts. Such truths cause endless anxiety. However, these truths cannot take away even a fraction of the happiness gained when a human gives their absolute best and lives in the moment, and we all gather here just for that."
Finally, to quote Zaitsu at his retirement: "100 meters is life condensed into an instant. The distance is so short you wouldn't even notice it in daily life. You burst out in a second, and the end arrives in a flash. You can fail because of a one-centimeter gap, be destroyed by a one-gram difference. You vomit from tension and slow down from lack of oxygen. It is precisely because of this that you can enjoy such high-octane tension; there is a richness that exists only in that small distance. That distance is filled with all the joys and sorrows of life. Go savor those supreme ten seconds."
Regrets and Highlights of the Movie
To be honest, the movie version leaves me with mixed feelings. While rotoscoping was used to save costs, the visual effect feels unpolished. Many walking and running movements were stiff and eerie to accommodate software processing, feeling like a choppy 15 fps. Even more regrettable is that the movie cut a significant amount of the internal monologues and plot points regarding the bitter struggles with reality, making the deep philosophical foundation feel too thin.
As for the highlights, the soul and budget of the film are entirely locked into the final 10 minutes— the National Championship semi-finals and finals. The story boarding is precise, the pacing is fast, and it perfectly captures the explosive tension of the track. You could say the production team put all their resources "on what really matters" just to let the audience feel the weight of "betting one's life on sports" at the very last moment.
By the way, the theme song "Rashisa" (らしさ) by Hige Dandism is fantastic! Written and composed by lead vocalist Satoshi Fujiwara, you can feel his deep understanding of the plot and core meaning through the lyrics. He clearly "consumed" the entire work before writing it, a very dedicated artist he is!
IMO Rating: 79. Nihilism is a challenge frequently faced by modern people in a technologically advanced era. There aren't many works that discuss it and provide such a clear answer. It is a work well worth reading once or twice.
Core Theme: ★★★★★ (*5)
Plot Quality: ★★★☆☆ (*4)
Character Development: ★★★★★ (*3)
Science Validity: ★★★☆☆ (*3)
Ending Satisfaction: ★★★★☆ (*3)
Readability: ★★★☆☆ (*2)
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