Noteworthy Films of 2014: The Wind Rises

2014 proved to be a turbulent and worrying time for Studio Ghibli. Miyazaki’s “official” retirement,  and the studio’s announcement of radical in-house changes prompted fans to fear the worst. Yet it was a relatively busy period for Ghibli with the releases of The Tale of Princess Kaguya and The Wind Rises in the west and the unfortunately disappointing When Marnie Was Here in Japan. Being a massive fan of their work, it was slightly shocking to read the headlines so soon after their recent accession to the global limelight. It’s therefore fortunate that Miyazaki’s long, acclaimed career ends on a distinguished high with The Wind Rises. 

A story of perseverance, drama and romance amidst pre-war Japan, The Wind Rises continues Ghibli’s more realistic and grounded approach to it’s narratives. While definitely more light-hearted than Grave of the Fireflies, The Wind Rises still touches on some very mature themes even with it’s undercurrent of humour and tenderness. While it avoids to really delve into the heavy themes of war as Japanese cinema tends to do (my article), and constitutes more of a fictionalised version of Jiro Horikoshi’ s career in Japanese military aviation, the story is a thought-provoking and genuinely poignant one. 

The flowing and dynamic nature of the studio’s iconic animation style is present as always. With the aeronautical nature of the story, the sense of speed and fragility as prototype aircraft tear the skies is exhilarating and gorgeous to watch. Body language and interactions are intricately depicted giving vast amounts of personality to the characters and film in general. As with all their previous films it’s the small details that really add uniqueness to Ghibli’s work. Whether it’s their careful attention to a bookcase in the background or the light glistening off the sea, their pursuit for perfection is evident. As too is Joe Hisaishi’s impassioned score. 

Apart from a rather rushed conclusion, The Wind Rises is a touching and beautiful piece of cinema.   With a career spanning 5 decades, Hayao Miyazaki has continued to deliver heart-warming and enchanting stories and characters to fans of animation and general cinema. I have a sneaky suspicion that this won’t necessarily be the last we see from him, but looking back it’s been an esteemed career that will entertain and captivate children and audiences forever. 

Favourite Film and TV Characters: B.M.O

While not the first choice for many Adventure Time fans, B.M.O is one character that I myself don’t fully understand my own fondness for. After only watching the cartoon series for the last couple of months I’ve already become somewhat addicted to its bizarre and outright wacky concept of animated comedy. Comparisons have often been drawn to the likes of Ren and Stimpy and Courage the Cowardly Dog, and it’s fair to see why. While Adventure Time definitely plays it more child-friendly and whimsical in tone, the show’s creator Pendleton Ward doesn’t cower away from exploring some of his more eccentric and vivid sentiment and imagery. 

The entire show has a barrage of insanely “unique” and hilarious characters that cater for a wide audience. From Jake the Dog, a talking canine voiced by John DiMaggio who can manipulate his body into different shapes, to Lemongrab, an immensely creepy “experiment gone wrong” with a lemon for a head and a tendency to scream, Adventure Time isn’t short on variety. Yet amongst the craziness of it all, B.M.O has always stood out. While not a lead character per say, B.M.O manages to create an instantaneous connection even with his/her limited screen presence. 

Following on from the show’s surrealistic and “imaginative” entirety, B.M.O is a cross between a Gameboy and the original Macintosh. He/she (its gender is unknown) is Finn and Jake’s “living video game console, portable electrical outlet, music player, roommate, camera, alarm clock, toaster, flashlight, strobe light, skateboarder, friend, soccer player, video editor and video player”. There’s a joy to simply watching B.M.O walk into a room on its adorable little legs, or doing a kick-flip on a skateboard. Maybe it’s the notion that amongst candy people, walking mudfish and a psychotic heart voiced by George Takei, there’s a walking/talking/singing Gameboy that plays Abraham Lincoln Football on the screen. 

Personality-wise, B.M.O is a difficult one to summarise. Naturally protective of Finn and Jake, there’s a childlike wonder to its interactions and understanding of “normal” behaviour.  He/she regularly sings about emotions and human experiences such as friendship and pregnancy, offering a Pinocchio parallel. It regularly speaks to its reflection, known as Football, and teaches it the joys of real life. Yet it has some rather sinister motivations in certain instances. The simplistic yet precise animation of B.M.O’s body language and facial expressions goes a long way in adding further charisma and charm to the character. From its bouts of happiness to its scepticism over Jake and Finn’s intentions, B.M.O constantly shifts its personality but manages to remain enthralling throughout.

One particular episode sees B.M.O investigate the whereabouts of Finn’s sock. Not an interesting plot on a basic level. But with Ward’s twist of it being a 1950’s crime noire story animated in black and white, its a really bizarre and interesting look into B.M.O psyche. B.M.O narrates the entire episode and this highlights one feature of the character I can undoubtably justify, it’s voice. A lot of my love for B.M.O rests on its voice. Niki Yang, who also plays the Korean speaking Lady Rainicorn, offers a charming and rather cute personality to B.M.O. Whether it’s the “Engrish” nature of her accent or the fact that the character itself isn’t too sure on what’s going on, Yang brings an endearing quality. The line “B.M.O Chop. If this were a real attack, you would be dead”, is spurred at the most random timing, like many of her appearances, yet still manages to stick in the brain. 

While I keep hammering the essential notions of a true “character”, both in this feature and in my reviews, B.M.O is an odd exception to the “laws” of that criteria. It, like many of the show’s components, isn’t fully explained and honestly doesn’t need to be. While many have tried to read into the sketchy and convoluted question of B.M.O’s gender and feminism, what’s wrong with taking something at face value. B.M.O isn’t your typical animated character, and nor should he/she be. If character design or voice-acting has the capability to gain your attention and subsequent affection, then that’s enough for me to appreciate that individual. I genuinely want a real-life BMO. That’s not sad is it? -_-