It is loud. That is the first thing you notice when you revisit Detective Conan: The Crimson Love Letter. Between the explosive roar of the Nichiuri TV station disaster and the aggressive, percussive snapping of Karuta cards, the movie doesn’t really do "quiet." But beneath that 21st cinematic spectacle lies something a lot more personal than your average "bomb-on-a-train" Conan plot.
Honestly? It’s probably the most successful attempt the franchise has ever made at blending high-stakes terrorism with a genuine, heart-aching romance that doesn't feel like a filler episode.
Most fans were frustrated for years. Heiji Hattori and Kazuha Toyama have been stuck in a "will-they-won't-they" loop since the late nineties. We’ve seen the missed confessions in London, the interruptions at the Ebisu Bridge, and the endless bickering that usually goes nowhere. Then, in 2017, Director Kobun Shizuno and writer Takahiro Okura decided to drop a literal bomb on their relationship in the form of Momiji Ooka.
The Karuta Factor: More Than Just a Game
If you aren't Japanese or a hardcore anime fan, Hyakunin Isshu Karuta might look like people just slapping cards on a floor. It’s way more intense than that. It’s a "martial arts on tatami mats."
The movie centers on the Satsuki Cup, a prestigious Karuta tournament. But it’s not just a backdrop. The poems themselves—the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu—are the actual backbone of the mystery. These are 100 classical Japanese poems, mostly about longing, nature, and, you guessed it, unrequited love. When Momiji Ooka shows up claiming Heiji is her "future husband" because of a childhood promise, she isn’t just being a rival. She is playing a high-stakes game of emotional Karuta.
Momiji is a fascinating addition to the cast. She’s wealthy, refined, and a Kyoto champion. She represents a direct threat to Kazuha’s security, not because Heiji is actually in love with Momiji, but because Momiji plays the game better than Kazuha does—both the card game and the game of pursuit.
Why the Animation Hits Different
The visual palette here is heavy on the deep reds and burnt oranges. It’s gorgeous. TMS Entertainment really leaned into the "Crimson" part of the title. If you look at the sequence where Heiji is riding his motorcycle up the collapsing elevator shaft—which, let’s be real, is physically impossible but incredibly cool—the lighting is stellar.
The contrast between the traditional, quiet shrines of Kyoto and the high-tech, metallic destruction of the TV station creates this weird tension. It’s like the movie is constantly trying to balance the old world (Karuta, poetry, ancient grudges) with the new world (explosives, drones, and Conan’s solar-powered skateboard).
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You’ve got to appreciate the detail in the Karuta matches. The way the fingers graze the floor and the specific sound of the "snap" when a card is taken is incredibly tactile. It makes the sport feel dangerous, which is necessary because the actual murder mystery involves a former champion and a decades-old grudge.
The Mystery of the Satsuki Cup
Let’s talk about the murder. Usually, Conan movies have a habit of making the culprit a bit too obvious. Here, it’s a bit more tangled. We have the death of Toshiya Yajima, a Karuta champion, found in his home with cards scattered around him. Then the bombing.
The motive isn't just "I hate this person." It’s rooted in the history of the Nagoro-kai, a Karuta group that dissolved under mysterious circumstances. The film does a great job of showing how obsession with a "legacy" can turn toxic. The character of Kensuke Achiwa is a tragic figure in his own right, trapped by a lie he told years ago to protect a reputation. It's a classic Conan trope—the "noble" lie that leads to a mountain of bodies—but it works here because it mirrors the honesty Heiji and Kazuha are struggling with.
Conan himself takes a bit of a backseat. He’s the one doing the heavy lifting on the forensic side, sure, but the emotional weight is entirely on the Osaka pair. Seeing Conan and Heiji work together is always a highlight, but in Detective Conan: The Crimson Love Letter, their dynamic feels more like peers than a mentor-student vibe.
Momiji Ooka vs. Kazuha Toyama
The rivalry is the soul of the film. Kazuha is usually portrayed as the "tough girl" who is secretly vulnerable, but here she has to actually train. She has to prove her worth through a skill, not just by being "the childhood friend."
Shizuka Hattori (Heiji’s mom) stepping in to mentor Kazuha is a brilliant touch. It gives us a glimpse into the Hattori family dynamic that we rarely see. Shizuka is a former Karuta Queen, and her "Spartan" training of Kazuha adds a layer of grit to the story. It turns Kazuha from a passive observer of her own romance into an active participant. She’s fighting for her place next to Heiji, and she’s doing it on the tatami mats.
The climax at the Satsuki-do temple is peak Conan. You have a burning building, a high-speed escape, and a confession that... well, in typical Conan fashion, doesn't quite go where you want it to. But it’s the effort that counts.
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Real-World Kyoto and Arashiyama
The movie is a love letter to Kyoto. If you’ve ever been to the Arashiyama district or seen the Togetsukyo Bridge, the film’s accuracy is stunning. They didn't just draw generic temples; they captured the specific atmosphere of the Kansai region.
- The Togetsukyo Bridge is a central landmark.
- The use of the Kyoto dialect (Kansai-ben) is much more prominent than in other films.
- The seasonal "Momiji" (maple leaf) viewing is a real cultural staple that drives tourism in the fall.
There’s something about the autumn setting that makes the tragedy feel heavier. In Japanese culture, autumn is often associated with "mono no aware"—the pathos of things or a sensitivity to ephemera. It fits a story about a dying Karuta style and a love that’s been waiting for years to bloom.
Is It Better Than "Crossroad in the Ancient Capital"?
Comparison is inevitable. Both are Kyoto-centric. Both feature Heiji and Kazuha.
Crossroad in the Ancient Capital (Movie 7) is a fan favorite because of its focus on Japanese history and the "first love" mystery. However, Detective Conan: The Crimson Love Letter feels more modern. The stakes feel higher. While Movie 7 is a bit more atmospheric and poetic, Movie 21 is a tighter, more explosive package. It’s also much more accessible to people who haven't memorized every single episode of the anime.
The soundtrack by Katsuo Ono is, as always, iconic. But the theme song "渡月橋 ~君 想ふ~" (Togetsukyo ~Kimi Omofu~) by Mai Kuraki is a masterpiece. It stayed on the charts for weeks and perfectly captures the "crimson" theme. It’s one of those rare anime movie songs that actually elevates the source material.
Technical Nuance: The Karuta Logic
One thing most people miss is how the specific poems chosen for the cards reflect the characters. For example, the poem Momiji identifies with is Poem 77 by Emperor Sutoku:
"Though a river's current is blocked by a boulder and divided into two, its waters eventually reunite."
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This is her entire philosophy. She believes that even if she and Heiji are separated, they are "destined" to come back together. Kazuha, on the other hand, is represented by Poem 17 by Ariwara no Narihira, which describes the red leaves on the Tatsuta River. It’s about a visual, passionate beauty that hides a deeper current. The film isn't just using these for flavor; it’s using them as character studies.
The Action Sequences: Pure Spectacle
We have to talk about the satellite dish. Conan using his turbo-engine skateboard to rotate around a giant falling satellite dish at the top of a burning building is the kind of "Conan Logic" we live for.
Is it realistic? Absolutely not.
Is it exhilarating? Yes.
The film knows when to pull back and show the tension of a quiet room where you can hear a pin drop, and when to blow everything up. The pacing is relentless. From the moment the TV station is evacuated to the final escape from the mountain temple, there is very little breathing room. This is a big reason why it performed so well at the box office, becoming the highest-grossing film in the series at the time of its release.
Final Verdict on the Crimson Love Letter
This isn't just a "detective" movie. It’s a romance wrapped in a thriller wrapped in a cultural showcase. It treats Heiji and Kazuha with more respect than the main series often does. It gives them a challenge that isn't just a misunderstanding, but a rival who is legitimately their equal.
If you’re a newcomer, you’ll enjoy the action and the beautiful scenery. If you’re a long-time fan, you’ll appreciate the deep cuts into Karuta culture and the progression (however small) of the central romance. It’s a reminder that even after twenty-plus movies, Conan can still find ways to make old formulas feel fresh.
Actionable Insights for Fans and Viewers
- Watch for the Poem Meanings: If you rewatch, look up the translations of the cards Kazuha and Momiji focus on. It adds a whole new layer to their dialogue.
- Check out Chihayafuru: If the Karuta aspect fascinated you, this series is the gold standard for explaining the sport's mechanics and intensity.
- Visit the Real Locations: If you’re ever in Kyoto, the Arashiyama district and the Togetsu-kyo Bridge are must-sees, especially in November when the leaves turn crimson.
- Listen to the Lyrics: The ending song by Mai Kuraki isn't just catchy; the lyrics are written from Kazuha's perspective and provide a nice "epilogue" to her feelings in the film.
- Pay Attention to the Dialect: If you're learning Japanese, this movie is a great way to hear the differences between the "standard" Tokyo Japanese (Conan/Ran) and the "Kansai" dialect (Heiji/Kazuha/Momiji).