Big Computer 1997
In the late-90s cyber landscape of *Big Computer (1997)*, shy office worker Naichi Ryoichi navigates the awkward dance of young love and friendship in a world just beginning to log on to the internet.
Director: Naoyuki Tomomatsu
Cast
Frequently Asked Questions
What is Big Computer (1997) about?
Shy office worker Naichi Ryoichi secretly pines for his coworker Tomomi while struggling to bond with friends unfamiliar with the early internet. Set in Japan's late-90s tech scene, the film explores unspoken emotions and the subtle stirrings of digital connection.
Who directed Big Computer?
Naoyuki Tomomatsu helmed *Big Computer*, crafting a quietly introspective cyber-era tale.
Who stars in Big Computer?
The film features Ryôichi Inaba, Alice Sailor, Hitomi Shiraishi, Mio Nishino, and Hitomi Shimizu in key roles.
Is Big Computer (1997) worth watching?
As an unrated 69-minute indie science-fiction short, *Big Computer* offers a nostalgic snapshot of pre-internet relationships. It's a quirky, low-key watch for fans of late-90s Japanese cyber-culture and slow-burn romance.
How long is Big Computer?
The runtime is 69 minutes.
About Big Computer (1997) — A late-90s cyber-love story set in the dial-up dawn
In the late-90s cyber landscape of *Big Computer (1997)*, shy office worker Naichi Ryoichi navigates the awkward dance of young love and friendship in a world just beginning to log on to the internet. Directed by Naoyuki Tomomatsu, this slice-of-life science-fiction short follows Ryoichi's secret crush on his colleague Tomomi, set against the backdrop of dial-up tones and early digital culture. With themes of isolation, longing, and the quiet revolution of connectivity, the film crafts a nostalgic portrait of connection in an era of rapid change.
Shot in under 70 minutes, *Big Computer* blends gentle humor and introspective moments, capturing the innocence of pre-social-media relationships. The minimalist aesthetic mirrors Ryoichi's emotional restraint, while the science-fiction tint underscores the era's techno-optimism. A cult curio from Japan's late-90s indie wave, it's a time capsule for anyone who remembers the thrill — or trepidation — of stepping into the digital age.