How do you define greatness? For 13-year-old Ashima Shiraishi, a rock-climbing prodigy, it’s about scaling literal and figurative heights. Winner of the Reel Asian Best Documentary award, Ashima‘s director Kenji Tsukamoto captures her attempt to climb Golden Shadow, a V14 boulder in South Africa—a climb that could make her the youngest woman ever to conquer such a challenge. But this isn’t just a film about a historic climb—it’s also about family, ambition, and the expectations Ashima’s parents have placed on her shoulders.
Tsukamoto spent years documenting the Shiraishi’s’ lives, gaining intimate access to their routines. The documentary is understated in its approach, with minimalist editing and an unvarnished lens that allows their story to unfold naturally. Whether it’s Ashima’s father, Hisatoshi, combing her hair before training or her mother sewing her climbing pants with vibrant fabrics, the film highlights quiet moments of affection amidst their disciplined lives. These moments ground the film while offering an honest and unedited portrayal of the young climber.
To understand Ashima is to understand her parents; they are inseparable. Hisatoshi, a former Butoh dancer turned coach, applies an intense, almost artistic approach to training. He knows Ashima’s climbing style inside and out, and understands how her mind works under pressure. Yet, his strict methods carry a possessiveness that the film delicately navigates. Ashima has never chosen her climbs; instead, she trusts her father to guide her. It’s a relationship built on love that raises questions about autonomy and identity, even as Ashima excels in her field.
For all her incredible talent, Ashima is unmistakably a teenager. She teases her mom about spelling “Barcelona,” paints her nails in bold colours, and lights up when talking about her idol, Chris Sharma. Still, for Ashima, her life is centred on rock climbing—her purpose and passion. She is keenly aware of the sacrifices her parents have made for her—like her father leaving his dance career to focus on raising her and her mother taking on the financial weight of the family—and the responsibility she feels to not only meet but exceed their overwhelming expectations. The film approaches these dynamics thoughtfully, weaving together the love and pressure that shape Ashima’s journey.
Climbing Golden Shadow is a testament to the dream that Ashima and her parents have to mark her place in the world. While professional climbers may spend years mastering a V14, Ashima faces the challenge with only three weeks of summer break to succeed. With bleeding hands and her father’s unrelenting guidance, she climbs Golden Shadow in only nine days, even climbing part of it again so her father can snap a photo with a disposable camera. The achievement is extraordinary, but Tsukamoto captures it with a quiet reverence, never overstating its significance.
Ashima is a tender and thoughtful exploration of ambition, family, and the cost of greatness. Tsukamoto doesn’t shy away from the complexities of Ashima’s world but presents them with empathy and restraint. At the centre of the film is Hisatoshi’s reflection that, for the Shiraishis, “Life and climbing. They are an inseparable path.”
The 28th edition of the Toronto Reel Asian International Film Festival runs in-person and online November 13-24. For tickets, scheduling, and other details about this year’s programming, visit the festival’s website.
