Haikara-san: Here Comes Miss Modern is one of the latest adaptations of the manga series of the same name, written by Waki Yamato and published between 1975 and 1977. The series has largely become Yamato's defining work, and with good reason: she won the first Kodansha Book Award for shōjo manga in 1977 for this series. It was also adapted into other forms, including live-action and the 1978-79 anime series, which ran for forty-four episodes. That seems like a better approach with this series because a lot is going on, and it doesn't always feel like the film's two-hour-and-a-half runtime has the space to develop everything the story wants to do.

That doesn't mean there isn't plenty to enjoy about this version, however. The story is the sort of luscious melodrama that 1970s shōjo excelled at – taking place between 1917 and 1923; it tells the tale of Benio Hanamura, a young woman fully ready to embrace the modern era. As an enthusiastic adherent of the “New Woman” philosophy, Benio is much more interested in climbing trees, practicing her sword fighting skills, riding her bicycle, and looking forward to a career rather than becoming a traditional married woman. She is the bane of her teachers at school, and to say that she's not thrilled when her father announces that she is engaged due to an old family promise is an understatement. The first part of the story features Benio trying her damndest to horrify her fiancé, Shinobu Ijuin, and his family; she very nearly succeeds with his sexist pig of a grandfather. It turns out that she and Shinobu are much better suited than she initially thought, and the two fall in love. But this wouldn't be a melodrama if the course of true love ran smooth, and Shinobu finds himself on the front lines of the war in Manchuria after he upsets a superior. The first film ends with Benio vowing never to marry anyone who is not Shinobu, bobbing her hair, and becoming that staple of 1920s fiction: a girl reporter. The second film has her discovering that a Russian noblewoman has a husband who looks suspiciously like the missing Shinobu. It wouldn't be 70s historical fiction without a good dose of amnesia. Benio and Shinobu find themselves kept apart by the consumptive Russian noblewoman to whom Shinobu feels indebted. For a while, it looks as if Benio will give in to her editor's affections and marry him. But as you may have guessed from the dates the story takes place between, the Great Kanto Earthquake may have something to say about the finale of Benio and Shinobu's story.

If that sounds like a lot to put into two films, it is. There is more than three hours worth of story going on here, which results in both films having some uneven pacing. We know Benio much better than Shinobu, who for much of the first film comes off as rather dull, the template for the princely shōjo romance hero. But the core of the story is still there, and its beating heart is still easily found, even if, at times, it feels very apparent that we are missing some information. One of the plot's better elements is the way we see Benio grow up. It's important to note that she doesn't object to getting married someday; she objects to her father picking her future husband for her, and once she does get to know Shinobu, she feels much more in control of her future. That control is something that she prizes and that we see her struggle to maintain over the story. We see her learning to be less impulsive and to make more considered decisions, and in some ways, her trying to bob her hair after Shinobu is missing and presumed dead marks the moment when she truly takes control.

History students will also point to this as indicative of her genuinely moving into the modern era. Bobbed hair is one of the signifiers of women of the 1920s who have cast off the shackles of the Victorian era, and it is used in the same way here. Early on in the first film, Benio's friend Tamaki mentions that they read Bluestocking Magazine, an early feminist publication that ran from 1911 to 1916. The magazine is credited with jumpstarting Japanese feminism, and alongside original articles, it contained translations of western feminist works. This means that we can largely take the cutting of Benio's hair in the same way we would in a western novel because her choice of reading material clearly shows that she is fully aware of what's happening in other countries and wants to be a part of that. Her choice of profession is another nod to new opportunities for women that the 20th century brought about; starting in the late 19th century, American newspapers began hiring what they called “girl reporters,” women who started to report outside of the previously constricted field of social columns. Benio's job puts her within their ranks, as we can see from the stories she is assigned to cover.

These aren't perfect films, and the first one especially has moments that feel like it's dragging. They are, however, beautifully animated, and the attempts to update Yamato's art style work quite well. The story itself holds up, and fans of old-school shōjo and soapy melodrama don't want to miss this. Both sub and dub tracks are well done, and overall the films present a very nice package. Haikara-san: Here Comes Miss Modern is a snapshot of two times – the early 20th century when the world was beginning to change very quickly and the heyday of 70s shōjo manga.