Photosensitivity Warning: There are three instances of powerful strobing/flashing lights that may trigger a painful response in audiences: two shortly after the title card appears and one in the climatic sequence of the film.
Japanese filmmaker Toshiaki Toyoda has built a career on films (feature-length and short) that dissect the human experience through the lens of Japan. Amid Toyoda’s filmography are a set of shorts that are viewed as part of a collection of films that have been described under a series of names, the most recent being the “Mt. Resurrection Wolf” series, at least by Fantasia International Film Festival 2025. Having its Canadian premiere in the Selection 2025 section of Fantasia is Toyoda’s (9 Souls) latest project, the existential sci-fi fantasy hybrid Transcending Dimensions, a contemplative look at the cross-section of faith and science that isn’t afraid to spill some blood.
Chihara Junia as Master Hanno in TRANSCENDING DIMENSIONS. Photo courtesy of Third Window Films.
Residing in the mountains is renowned Master Hanno (Chihara Junia, a.k.a. Chihara Jr.), a guide for those seeking to transcend their reality by pushing themselves beyond. Brought as a guest, Shinno (Ryûhei Matsuda) is skeptical of Hanno’s messages, but, when he experiences Hanno’s talents, his incredulity turns to belief. Despite or because of this, Shinno seeks out Hanno’s protégé Rosuke (Yosuke Kubozuka), but finding him may be harder than the intrepid Shinno could ever anticipate.
R: Kiyohiko Shibukawa as Teppel in TRANSCENDING DIMENSIONS. Photo courtesy of Third Window Films.
What’s the difference between faith and science? The simplest way to describe the differences between the two, striping away all the strictest definitions and methodologies, is that faith is based on the idea of conviction in evidence unseen versus the idea of conviction in supportive evidence and the willingness to adjust/adapt when faced with new evidence. Each are, obviously, far more complex than this, given their respective rules and regulations; especially within the sciences that are, if organized well and properly, adhere to guidelines, peer review, and more to create a systematic practice versus religion, which can often be interpretative. Both, however, do require someone to be able to align themselves with the belief structure in order to be considered among the faithful. Dangerously, both can be wielded to do as much great harm as they can great good. For instance, no one in their right mind would consider Robert F. Kennedy Jr. a scientist given his lack of credentials, but those same lack of credentials make him appear an expect within certain religious circles. Faith can push people to fester resentments and push agendas that harm (see: removal of the voting rights act or same-sex marriage laws) and science can be a cudgel to shape (or reshape) perspective (see: Galileo Galilei’s battle with the church regarding the center of the galaxy). Between the two, science is ever-changing, adapting with new information as inquiry challenges old data in order to grow and advance. In both cases, anything viewed as unhealthy skepticism is scorned and cast away. Ideas and concepts are forever changing as social mores and institutions themselves do with time, but remaining ridged, in either context, brings with it the potential for weaponization, demonization, and irrevocable harm. Look now to the U.S. and the infiltration of White Nationalism which is removing immigrants and defunding science in as rapid a movement as possible due to the fear of “the other,” which is, in the estimation of this reviewer, born out of a fear of inferiority. In Transcending Dimensions, the intersection of science and faith is represented by the charismatic Master Hanno, an enigmatic figure who pushes his acolytes, often openly mocking them, while playing on their conviction of faith to make them vulnerable to his abuses. Likewise, he works with scientists who may be able to merge his teachings with their experiments in order to make the metaphysical tangible and, therefore, provide the answers he seeks. Toyoda appears to be asking if this is enlightenment if it comes on the backs of sacrifices and out-sourced glory? He plays both sides, though whether it’s for his own gain, to further his ideology, or to ensure a scenario in which he comes out victorious is to be determined.
Much of the structure of Transcending Dimensions is executed by long sequences of action and scoring with little to no dialogue. People do talk and, when they do, their words carry weight in terms of defining relationships and what it is they want, but there’s so much organized silence that the film often feels more experimental in its meditations. The opening, for instance, is of a figure we are not introduced to until later, sitting in a cave, their reflection visible in a pool of water (the first of many references to reflection) with very little light. The way the person is framed and their physical positioning exudes the same energy of Plato’s “allegory of the cave,” a story which explains how a person’s knowledge and perception is only as clear as their awareness of the space they exist within. Seeing as Hanno wants to transcend dimensions, to cast off where he is now and move beyond through space, Toyoda’s initial sequence seems to support a similar philosophical concept. Thus, what we observe is not only confined by the restraints of the characters, but of the audience’s own limited perspective. Here, Toyoda is the Almighty, controlling and confining what we see, what we hear, and what we know, opting for new revelations at the end of each act. Wish so much heady material, Toyoda uses simple visual cues to communicate differences, such as a red netting versus a green one or a different colored ceremonial garb. These small changes give the audience enough information to go on in order to keep things straight, regardless of which actor is on screen. Interestingly, despite the title, the film seems less interested in exploring multi-dimensions compared to the existential dread that comes from the realization that we may be the same in any dimension, making any possible combination of worlds the same, minus some imperceptible changes. Thus, in the face of faith and science, none of it matters because we end up exactly where we are regardless.
Yosuke Kubozuka as Rosuke in TRANSCENDING DIMENSIONS. Photo courtesy of Third Window Films.
Transcending Dimensions more often makes one feel rather than be informed. Disorientation, confusion, and ambiguity don’t hang in the air, they feed on it. There’s no clear indication of a right answer, of a perspective that shines the light that creates the world. Instead, and more interestingly, Toyoda, like the visual aspects he uses so frequently, holds a mirror up to highlight that the only perspective that matters is one’s own. We are the light, for all the good and the bad that comes along with it. We are subject to the same falsehoods that we believe to be hard truths and we are the source of our successes and failures. We are the Alpha and the Omega. We are just too damned stubborn to acknowledge this truth and, therefore, will forever be stuck to the shadows of someone else’s light, perpetually pliable to another’s delusions and false grandeur.
Is this even right? I don’t know, but it feels like it.
Screened during Fantasia International Film Festival 2025.
For more information, head either to the official Transcending Dimensions Fantasia International Film Festival or Toshiaki Toyoda’s film webpage.
Final Score: 3.5 out of 5.
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Categories: In Theaters, Reviews
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