All 10 Best Hana Sugisaki Movies Ranked (Best to Worst)

Ryota Nakano’s poignant family portrait balances heartbreaking mortality with sharp, eccentric warmth. Centered on a mother determined to stitch her splintered household back together after a terminal diagnosis, the film uses the communal heat of a traditional bathhouse as an anchor for reconciliation. What could easily have collapsed into maudlin sentimentality instead achieves profound honesty through patient framing and unsparing domestic grit. Sugisaki delivers the defining performance of her early career as Azumi, the quiet daughter battling vicious school bullies. Her breakdown scene—a raw, shrieking release of suffocated anguish—earned her the Japan Academy Film Prize and cemented her as an elite dramatic talent capable of unmatched emotional devastation.

A haunting procedural constructed like a psychological jigsaw puzzle, Akihiro Toda’s mystery unfurls around a vanished woman whose erased identity conceals decades of institutional neglect. The narrative glides through fragmented timelines, interrogating how society routinely fails those trapped in invisible legal voids. Rather than leaning on sensationalist thriller tropes, the direction embraces cool restraint, observing the debris left behind in a quiet apartment. Sugisaki is astonishing in the title role, portraying a ghost-like figure who must suppress her own humanity to survive. It stands as her most complex adult lead performance, devoid of showy vanity and radiating a chilling, sorrowful resolve that lingers long after the credits roll.

Hiromasa Yonebayashi’s adaptation of Joan G. Robinson’s novel remains one of Studio Ghibli’s most melancholic, atmospheric reflections on adolescent isolation and ancestral connection. Set against the misty marshes of Hokkaido, the film captures the heavy ache of social alienation through lush watercolor aesthetics, ghostly moonlight, and evocative soundscapes. It treats teenage depression not as a melodramatic obstacle, but as a tender fog that requires delicate unraveling. Sugisaki lends subtle, inquisitive warmth to Sayaka, the local girl whose discovery of an old diary unlocks the story’s central mystery. Even in a supporting voice role, her crisp vocal cadence grounds the ethereal fantasy, marking her triumphant entrance into top-tier Japanese animation.

Named after the solitary sea creature whose calls vibrate at a frequency unheard by other pods, this bruising adaptation directed by Izuru Narushima confronts domestic abuse and societal estrangement with unblinking directness. Set in a windswept seaside town, the narrative links two battered souls navigating the wreckage of severe familial trauma. Narushima avoids soft edges, crafting an abrasive atmosphere punctuated by ocean spray and claustrophobic flashbacks. Sugisaki shoulders the film's crushing psychological weight as Kiko, a survivor struggling to reclaim her voice. Her chemistry with her young co-star is raw and protective, demonstrating her peerless ability to channel agonizing grief into fiercely protective grace.

Serving as the debut venture for Studio Ponoc, this kinetic fantasy bursts with vibrant animation, soaring broomstick sequences, and lush pastoral world-building that echoes classic British children's literature. While narratively breezy, the film succeeds on pure kinetic momentum, contrasting drab rainy afternoons with the dazzling, kaleidoscopic machinery of Endor College. Sugisaki assumes full center stage here, voicing the clumsy, fiery-haired Mary with buoyant energy and infectious comedic timing. Shedding the somber gravity of her live-action output, she carries the entire production on vocal buoyancy alone, proving her versatility extends naturally to broad, family-friendly spectacle without losing an ounce of charm.

Kyohei Ishiguro’s sun-drenched romance is a visual celebration of pop art, pairing saturated neon palettes with a breezy summer soundtrack inside a suburban shopping mall. The story gently threads teenage insecurities—a haiku-loving boy who hides behind headphones and an influencer embarrassed by her buck teeth—into a sweet, poetic meditation on communication. It is radiant, modern, and refreshingly innocent. Sugisaki voices Smile with irresistible effervescence, capturing the flustered charm of an insecure girl navigating first love. Her vocal modulation adds tremendous texture to the digital animation, confirming her unique talent for infusing animated characters with genuine warmth and relatable teenage awkwardness.

Examining modern solitude through the prism of non-traditional kinship, this quiet Tokyo-set drama follows three unrelated young women building an unorthodox sanctuary within an aging residential home. The direction prioritizes atmospheric stillness, lingering on shared meals, creaking floorboards, and unspoken past traumas. It avoids forced plot mechanics to let the daily rhythms of found family breathe. Sugisaki operates as the story's emotional fulcrum, playing a woman whose quiet demeanor masks deep-seated existential wounds. Her understated, minimalist acting style shines here, anchoring the ensemble with perceptive glances and subtle physical choices that emphasize human resilience amid economic and emotional precarity.

Yoshiyuki Momose’s visual spectacle probes the impermanence of childhood wonder, tracing the journey of a girl's imaginary friend fighting to survive against existential oblivion. Packed with ambitious digital-traditional hybrid animation and eerie creature designs, the film crafts an evocative metaphysical world where forgotten fantasies wither into ash. Though the narrative occasionally stumbles under the weight of its ambitious lore, its thematic ambition remains undeniable. Sugisaki provides essential emotional texture in a key supporting role, blending fragility and quiet determination. Her vocal agility once again proves vital to Ponoc's visual style, even when the surrounding script struggles to find steady footing.

Kenji Shibayama’s romantic drama tackles disability and young romance with earnest, if occasionally conventional, commercial sensibilities. Following an interior designer who reunites with her paralyzed high school crush, the film explores accessibility, social stigmas, and emotional endurance through clean, glossy Tokyo visuals. While it sometimes leans into predictable melodrama, the central romance avoids condescension. Sugisaki elevates the familiar material significantly, playing Tsugumi with radiant sincerity and stubborn grit. Her performance prevents the narrative from sinking into easy tearjerker territory, demonstrating how her dramatic commitment can humanize mainstream studio formulas and lift every scene she inhabits.

Tetsu Maeda’s jidai-geki comedy approaches Edo-period financial collapse with manic farce, tracking a naive young lord saddled with astronomical clan debt. Filled with slapstick antics, broad caricatures, and fast-paced fiscal scheming, the movie functions primarily as lighthearted commercial entertainment rather than serious historical critique. The tonal chaos occasionally wears thin, but the colorful ensemble keeps the energy bubbling. Sugisaki plays Sayo, bringing feisty wit and grounded pragmatism to the surrounding nonsense. While it demands little of the emotional intensity seen in her prestige work, her sharp comedic timing offers a fun, breezy glimpse into her lighter commercial repertoire.