Showing posts with label Japanese Animation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Japanese Animation. Show all posts

Sunday, 1 March 2015

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. 


Tuesday, 1 November 2011

Japanese Animation, the Pacific War and the Atomic Bomb


Japanese Animation, the Pacific War and the Atomic Bomb 

The tagline of the 1988 cult film Akira, ‘Neo-Tokyo is about to E.X.P.L.O.D.E’, exemplifies the manner in which the memories of World War II remain embedded in Japanese animation and culture. It was during the Post-War era that anime and manga became established in Japan’s society. The 1960s saw a wave of popular manga artists and writers such as Osamu Tezuka begin to explore the events of the 1940s through their work, which has subsequently influenced generations of artistic talent. While Japanese cinema may have become the main channel for creating a national identity, many directors have tended to steer clear of the controversial nature of 1945. Nevertheless, while some films like Grave of the Fireflies directly recount the tragedy, the events of Hiroshima and Nagasaki have left a legacy that has inspired various manga and anime.
Adapted from Katsuhiro Otomo’s influential manga series, Akira deals with global conflict, social disintegration and anarchistic youth, all in a futuristic and apocalyptic setting. It’s a complex narrative that looks deeply at philosophical and psychological themes, but undoubtedly draws heavily from Japan’s experience during the 1940s and 50s, e.g. the opening shot of Tokyo being destroyed by an ‘atomic-like’ blast directly references the dropping of the bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Meanwhile, the representation of corruption within power and a government that fails to recognise modern methods harks back to similar issues during WWII. The film also conveys a constant atmosphere of fear that not only contaminates Neo-Tokyo but also the entire fictional world, mirroring the global reaction to America’s ‘atomic power’. Another franchise that draws similar influences is Neon Genesis Evangelion. Yet, while Akira concentrates on the ‘fall of humanity’ at humanity’s own hands, Evangelion conceals its portrayal of atomic destruction with the use of an extra-terrestrial invasion – with religious symbolism also present. However, it still follows a similar tapestry to Otomo’s creation with its depiction of a government in disarray and a society suffering from an over-zealous military. Evangelion’s main characters come in the form of 14-year-old children thrust into a world at war, without parents for guidance or protection. Both these films aim to replicate the consequences of war from young perspectives, often a key trait in anime.
In stark contrast, the Pacific War’s profound and horrifying effect on Japan has been portrayed more forthrightly, realistically and emotionally in family-orientated films. Rather than censoring events, animation studios such as Studio Ghibli have retold stories and experiences in their true light. Hayao Miyazaki introduces the themes of war and humanity’s destructive tendencies in his films Howl’s Moving Castle and Laputa: Castle in the Sky, showing the heavy handed tactics of the military. However, two films stand out as being highly instrumental examples of ‘post-war’ animated cinema: Ghibli’s Grave of the Fireflies and Mori Masaki’s Barefoot Gen.
Grave of the Fireflies takes a heartfelt approach to storytelling, set in a very ‘real’ world, with ‘real’ characters. Loosely based on Akiyuki Nosaka’s own experiences, director Isao Takahata shrugs off the child-friendly constraints of Studio Ghibli and really emphasises the devastating impact of war on the innocent and on the human condition. Following Setsuko and her older brother Seita, Grave of the Fireflies doesn’t shy away from scenes of horrifying violence and distressing events of abandonment and helplessness, all of which involve children. Moments of humanity and contentment are built from Ghibli’s beautiful portrayal of nature, culminating in the imagery of the fireflies. Though these are few and far between – the constant threat of bombers lingers throughout the film, representing the endless firebombing of Japanese cities and towns during the war.
An equally important and influential take on ‘victim history’ is Barefoot Gen, originally a manga series written by Keiji Nakazawa, a Hiroshima survivor. The 1983 animated film follows a young boy, Gen, as he deals with the tragic loss of his family during the bombing. In contrast to the tearful sympathy and the overriding sense of despair and powerlessness that Grave of the Fireflies creates,Barefoot Gen achieves an unconquerable sense of resilience and leadership, whilst directly tackling the horrendous bombing of Hiroshima. Its grotesque and apocalyptic portrayal of the disaster creates a haunting and disturbing vision of ‘Hell’, one that live-action films would fail to depict as powerfully. However, intertwined with its brutality are genuine moments of triumph and hope; friendships are forged in the barrenness of Hiroshima. But whilst both directors have crafted sharply different narratives, there are still visible morals that they both address; actively showing the pain, terror and reality of war, but also questioning the Japanese Government’s late surrender, rather then pointing the blame squarely at America.
Overall, Japanese anime has tended to focus on creating social and individual identities through ‘slice of life’ dramas and fantasy adventures. Yet historically, Japan’s twentieth century remains largely untouched in the world of animation, particularly when compared to its ‘samurai’ past.  Akira and Evangelion offer examples of how Japan’s heedful nature has used the cover of sci-fiction/fantasy to portray the events of WWII, whilst the emotive and elegiac manner of Grave of the Fireflies and Barefoot Gen has enabled these films to truly narrate the past. But it still remains clear that Japan’s experiences during the Pacific War have had a profound effect on its animated culture, as well as its national identity.
(Originally on Impact Magazine website: 2011)

Friday, 28 October 2011

Whisper of the Heart (耳をすませば)


Whisper of the Heart (耳をすませば) 1995
Released back in 1995, Whisper of the Heart was the late Yoshifumi Kondō ’s directorial debut and only film he directed. He unfortunately passed away in 1998. A key animator before entering Studio Ghibli, Kondō worked on numerous productions; Lupin III, Panda! Go, Panda! and Future Boy Conan. It was working with the likes of Isao Takahata and Hayao Miyazaki, that he became established within Studio Ghibli, and was predicted to succeed them. 
His film follows a middle schoolgirl named Shizuka whose life revolves around her love of stories and writing. She discovers that all the library books she has checked out have been previously taken out by the same individual. Shinzuka soon meets a schoolboy whom she exceedingly dislikes. However she soon discovers that he, Seiji, is the fellow avid reader. The two start to form a relationship, in which Seiji aspirations of being a violin maker, inspire Shizuka to expand her horizons, and write her novel about Baron, Seiji’s grandfather’s cat statutette. Whisper of the Heart is a somewhat ‘muted’ family drama that takes place in a realistic Japanese setting, whilst also focusing on a growing teenager’s dreams and romance. It’s a relatively simple plot to follow that steers clear of a cliché and formulaic narrative of generic anime. While there’s nothing dramatically unique in the story, it still remains interesting and magical.
In terms of the characters, Studio Ghibli has been very successful in creating engaging and memorable individuals. However Whisper of the Heart doesn’t hold the same magic. Shizuka is the typical teenager girl lead, meanwhile Seiji isn’t special in anyway either. The two are voiced well, but neither have a personality that is truly interesting. By far the most memorable character is ‘The Baron’. As previously talked about in my review of The Cat Returns, the ‘Baron’ became a Japanese “Boba Fett” after little screen time. There’s a creativity to his design, and he brings a charming personality to a cast of averageness. Maybe this was intended to symbolises the drabness of reality and urban life, contrasting with the expansive, and creative element of a teenager’s imagination. 
For the most part Whisper of the Heart looks like your typical Ghibli production. Characters have the distinctly simplistic yet charming styling. Meanwhile from the realistic and colourful backgrounds, to the intricate detailing on the ornamental grandfather clock, there’s an essence of magic to the film. Yet where this film’s animation really stands out, is the visualisation of Shizuka’s novel. In fact, the sheer popularity surrounding these scenes inspired the studio to work on The Cat Returns. Floating Islands, reminiscent of Nausicaa contrast perfectly to the straightforward look of reality, its a very imaginative design. 
Overall, Whisper of the Heart is a very enjoyable film but not as memorable as other Studio Ghibli works. It has some hiccups but nothing that damages the film’s narrative or general viewing experience. Yoshifumi Kondō’s debut is an engaging and entertaining one which showed a lot of potential and talent, making his death even more tragic and heart-breaking.
7/10 

Wednesday, 5 October 2011

Only Yesterday ( おもひでぽろぽろ) Review

Only Yesterday ( おもひでぽろぽろ)

Continuing with my impressions of Studio Ghibli’s ‘non-Miyazaki’ productions, Only Yesterday by Isao Takahata is another overlooked film. Released back in 1991, it was a surprising box office success and was popular among both adults as well as children. With My Neighbour Totoro and Kiki’s Delivery Service having been released in 1988 and 1989, it was a slight departure from Ghibli’s narrative style. Yet Takahata had already established himself in the studio with his most compelling film: Grave of the Fireflies back in 1988. 
Set in the 1980s, the film follows bored office worker Taeko as she heads to the countryside in an attempt to escape the busy, urban landscapes. Meeting with family, friends and working on the farm, she reminisces about her childhood, parents, dreams, puberty and romances through flashbacks. Only Yesterday’s plot doesn’t distinguish itself from the waves of ‘slice of life’ animated dramas, primarily because at first glance it’s pretty simple. The film doesn’t have talking animals or mystical monsters, but focuses on very ‘human’ experiences and that’s what Isao Takahata does best. 
The ‘downhearted worker’ retelling stories or revisiting their childhood, has become a cliché in Japanese culture and is a characteristic of Japanese society. Whilst I am a manga reader, it is clear that audiences and the ‘otaku’ culture has occurred from individuals wanting to relive or reminisce about frivolous stories and ‘adventures’ through these types of media. Teenage dramas such as Azumanga Daioh and Haruhi Suzumiya have cemented themselves globally, and have attracted mature audiences primarily because of clever, realistic and relatable stories and characters. Only Yesterday follows the same setup yet in a more restraint manner and through a realistic approach. No over-exaggerated expressions, cringe-worthy dialogue or events, just simple story-telling and realistic and interesting personalities. As always Takahata employs various cultural references from Japanese television and music during the 1960s which indicate the reality of the story. While Western audiences won’t gain the same nostalgia, recollection of past childhoods or memories from these sources, it’s still interesting to gain a sense of popular culture in Japan during the period. 
With the premise remaining distinctly ‘human’, the characters mirror the atmosphere and the narrative. 20 something-year-old Taeko isn’t as enjoyable to watch as her younger self, but in someways that’s everyone’s personal experience of growing up. Generally our childhood or school-life years are the best times of our life. You make friends, you have little responsibility and are cared for by close family. In comparison, as soon as you start working, conversations boil down to ‘School......those were the days’. And this is what Only Yesterday portrays perfectly. While an ill-favoured criticism would be that mature Taeko’s dialogue primarily consists with her reminiscing back to her childhood. But that is the point of the film. While she meets her family and friends, and forms a relationship with Toshio during her time on the farm, we gain a true understanding of her personality and character through her flashbacks. 
Her younger self is a much more relatable and an interesting individual. We explore the relationship between family members, and the conservative father. We explore Taeko entrance into puberty and the problems/ hardship that comes with that, and subsequently her understanding of ‘love’. Its cleverly directed, with an almost reversed sense of life’s pace and hectic portrayal. There’s a sense of calm and tranquility in her mature self, whilst her younger image frantically experiences everything. It’s full of clever metaphors and morals that leaves a lasting impression and intrigue to Takahata’s personal understanding of ‘growing up’.
Animation-wise, Only Yesterday sticks to the realistic and human approach by retaining Studio Ghibli tried and tested formula of art style. Character models are simple but manage to express more subtle emotion than your average ‘anime’ series. The contrast between urban settings and countryside is beautifully mapped with a colourful visual look. Linked to this, is the clear contrast in art direction between Taeko’s past and present. While backgrounds are detailed and lush in the 1980s, the art team seems to have opted for simple cream backgrounds, almost like ‘thought bubbles’. It’s an interesting choice.My only criticism would be the design of the older Taeko. Her defined wrinkles and cheek dimples make her look like she’s in her late 30s/ early 40s, rather than late 20s. But this isn’t a major problem. 
Overall, Only Yesterday has a simple premise, yet deals with it perfectly, charmingly and smartly. While it hasn’t the cutesy imagery, or magical essence of Hayao Miyazaki’s work, it’s realistic and very ‘human’. There’s a sense of nostalgia, an empathy towards the characters and their experience as we personally remember our childhoods in an attempt to escape the hectic pace of employment or maturity. Highly Recommended.
8/10 

Thursday, 15 September 2011

The Cat Returns (猫の恩返し) Review


The Cat Returns (猫の恩返し) 2002 
Directed by animator Hiroyuki Morita, The Cat Returns was released back in 2002 and remains one of my personal favourite ‘non-Miyazaki’ productions. Originally planned as a 20-minute short back in 1999, it was then turned into a manga by Aoi Hiiragi. After deliberations between Hayao Miyazaki and various other staff members, Morita became responsible for translating Hiiragi’s work into a film. Not only recognised at Studio Ghibli, he has worked on projects such as Akira and Afro Samurai showing an abundance of experience in Japanese animated cinema. However The Cat Returns is Morita’s first genuine debut as a director, and its a great one from another future prospect. 
The story follows Haru, a shy and modest high school student who has the ability to talk to cats. After saving a well-spoken feline from a road accident, who turns out to be Luna ‘Prince of Cat Kingdom’, she is showered in gifts (catnip and mice) by the King and is offered the Prince’s hand in marriage. Troubled by her unwanted glorification, she finds help from ‘The Baron’ (character from Whisper of the Heart), Muta, a pot-bellied white cat and Toto, a living crow statue. However when she is forcefully taken to the ‘Cat Kingdom’, the Baron launches a rescue mission to save Haru from being trapped and transforming into a cat. 
The story is simple yet engrossing. While it may not hold the usual messages of environmentalism or militarism, or the concealed complexities of Studio Ghibli’s usual creations, its a well-told and well-constructed affair. This isn’t to suggest that The Cat Returns is a perfect story. There are problems but none that cripple the film. A slightly drawn-out second act is a bit feeble when compared to the rest of the film. Meanwhile, the portrayal of ‘The Cat Kingdom’ is disappointingly tame. After Studio Ghibli’s vivid and imaginative fantasy scenes in Whisper of the Heart, which prompted The Cat Returns creation, the depiction of the kingdom is underwhelming and slightly mundane. Apart from these niggles, the film runs smoothly and remains engaging.
In terms of the characters, The Cat Return’s ‘roster’ is small but appropriately developed. Primarily focusing on our three main protagonists and a main antagonist, the film duly constructs unique and compelling personalities. Haru comes across as a typical high school girl. Her constant clumsiness and simplemindedness does get tiresome, however there’s a charm to her character, an affection that continues throughout the film. The Baron remains an interesting character after his ‘debut’ in Whisper of the Heart. An intellectual, ‘Sherlock Holmesy’, well-groomed and dressed cat offers something different and imaginative to the usual young boy protagonist. However Muta steals the shows as the comedic relief. His tendency to lead with his stomach, a disregard for Haru and a somewhat obscure background, create a character that’s obnoxious but funny. This is all helped by superb Japanese voicework that does justice to the animation and truly represents the characters, rather than the English dub. 
Animation-wise, The Cat Returns keeps the detailed and colourful backgrounds of Ghibli ,but changes the character design. It’s not a dramatic change, but one that is visible to regular Ghibli watchers. A good use of colours create a clear distinction between the ‘fantasy‘ elements and the ‘realistic‘ setting. And the sight of a cat standing on two legs remains playfully weird, even slightly unnerving. The soundtrack is great from Yuuji Nomi and Ayano Tsuji’s theme song is probably one of the best in Ghibli’s backlog.

Overall The Cat Returns is short at 75 minutes, but is sweet. Colourful characters, simple story and well-constructed animation, ensure an easy to watch and engrossing experience. It may not be crammed full of symbolism or philosophy, but that’s simply because it’s not intended to spur great intellectual thought. Its a great debut from Hiroyuki Morita, and another fine addition to Studio Ghibli’s filmography. Recommended. 
8/10 

Thursday, 8 September 2011

Pom Poko (平成狸合戦ぽんぽこ) Review

Pom Poko (平成狸合戦ぽんぽこ) (1994)
Pom Poko, released in 1994, is Isao Takahata’s 8th animated project which he has written and directed with Studio Ghibli. Taking a different approach to his usual ‘human’ and realistic style, Pom Poko became a success in the Japanese box office, and was eventually submitted as Japan’s selection for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. Stepping back from ‘human subjects’, Takahata focuses on the traditional Japanese folklore of tanuki (Japanese Raccoon Dogs). Essentially, our main characters are a group of mischievous, gluttonous and cheerful raccoons that have the ability to shape-shift in order to trick humans.............and have shapeshifting testicles.  
The story follows a band of racoons who are under attack by MAN!!!! Initially set in the 1960s, a gigantic suburban development is beginning to be constructed on their land. Trees, grassland and forests are being cut down, causing a dramatic effect on the tanuki population. A resistance forms including Gonta, an aggressive chief, Tsurugame, an old guru, and Oroku, the wise-woman, in order to battle the human efforts to build houses, offices and roads on their habitat. Told in a ‘diary log’ style of narrative Pom Poko’s story structure is pretty simple to understand, but does dawdle during the second act. 
Firstly, this is a very ‘Japanese’ film, but one that remains relatively accessible to a wider audience. The focus on Japanese folklore and mythology is quite daunting but is very interesting. Many viewers unfamiliar with the likes of yokai (a class of Japanese supernatural creatures) or oni (demons, devils....), will enjoy a ‘child friendly’ visual introduction to Japan’s unique and strange supernatural identity. The ‘ghost parade’ scene in particular, barrages the audience with Japanese myths and legends, with some cameos from other Ghibli films. Demons, giant babies, three headed females all appear in an effort to scare the locals. It definitely is a hilarious and surreal WTF moment. 
Inevitably, environmentalism and the general impact of humans is prominent in Pom Poko, more so than in any other work by Studio Ghibli. And to some extent this hinders the film’s general impression. This being a major plotline for the film, the message is somewhat preached continuously rather than allowed to be expressed naturally. What the slightly over-rated Princess Mononoke did to successfully convey its message of ‘environmentalism’, was to employ it though a smartly told narrative and well-developed selection of characters, which are lacking in Pom Poko. 

Studio Ghibli, and especially Isao Takahata, have a very creative and masterful understanding of the concept of characters. From the likes of Calcifer from Howls Moving Castle to Kiki in Kiki’s Delivery Service, there’s a special connection that viewers build with them. Their unique, or relatable features/ traits help, or even solely create the film. However Pom Poko falls short even with top notch Japanese voice acting. This isn’t due to the dialogue, but lies with the story and the sheer scale with which we are introduced to all these characters. All too often, characters “disappear” then reappear causing confusion and a disregard for them. 
In terms of the animation, Pom Poko is great with its vivid colour palette and energetic flow and spirit. There is also a good blend of animation styles to depict the characters. The contrast of the ‘red-eyed’, typical looking raccoons from the humans’ perspective, to the ‘humanized versions of the tanuki, and to the cartoony figures of Shigeru Sugiura’s manga, is an enjoyable and interesting arrangement of various visual styles. Meanwhile, the soundtrack is a mix of traditional Japanese folk, kabuki and children’s music that’s matches the playful and joyful nature of the film and its characters. 
Overall Pom Poko is a great film, yet dawdles too much on its message rather than crafting a flowing narrative and memorable, individual characters. The script is great, the story is simple, and its a very funny film. 
7/10 

Thursday, 25 August 2011

My Neighbours The Yamadas Review

My Neighbours The Yamadas  (ホーホケキョとなりの山田くん)  (1999)
After my extensive log of Hayao Miyazaki’s filmography, many have asked about my opinions and interpretations of the other Studio Ghibli films. But one that many fail to list is one of my favourites of the studio’s backlog, My Neighbours The Yamadas. Quickly overlooked, there is a common apprehension towards the art style and the dramatic contrast from the adventure, fantasy traits of many of Studio Ghibli’s work. However, directed by Isao Takahata, who has a realistic approach to animation (Only Yesterday and Grave of the Fireflies), the film presents the simplistic nature of family life into a very funny and endearing drama.  
The film narrates the concept of a ‘family’, and the successes and pitfalls that are experienced. Starting off at the wedding of Matsuko (Mrs Yamada) and Takashi (Mr Yamada), they are “educated” by the enlightened elderly about the ‘ups and downs’ of marriage. We are then introduced to the rest of the family; Noboru the son, Nonoko the daughter, and Shige, Matsuko’s mother. There isn’t a definable storyline, but a ‘sitcom’ style of structure, with an intro and outro, that shows the Yamada family’s everyday life.
Being based on Hisaichi Ishii’s four panel ‘yonkoma’ manga (Nonochan), each chapter takes a similar form;  a setup, an expansion on the scene, an unexpected development, and then ending on a humorous note. While this may sound formulaic or repetitive, My Neighbours The Yamadas manages to retain the sharp and entertaining characteristics of the source material. The ‘slice of life’ fiction is very much in the same vein as Only Yesterday’s focus on adulthood, however Takahata takes a more light-hearted approach. The film explores ‘marriage’, ‘child-rearing’, ‘father-son relationships’ and other stages of a family, all in a comedic yet charming manner that both an adult audience and a younger one can identify with. While similarities can be drawn with The Simpsons and the millions of sitcoms, Takahata never lets the film fall into recycled and cliché waters. 
Takahata also employs a strong Japanese cultural commentary throughout his film. The prominent use of brief haiku (short poetry) from the likes of Matsuo Bashō and Natsume Sōseki act as segues between each ‘chapter’. An example: “The scent of plums on a mountain path. Suddenly dawn”, gives a poetic sensibility to the film and to everyday events. There is a fantastic sequence which follows the magical/ fantasy ‘adventures’ of Takashi and Matsuko, as they travel across the length and width of Japan to “find” their children. Its a amazing scene which involves the Japanese folklores ‘Momotarō’ (Peach boy) and the ‘Taketori Monogatari’ (The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter), which are cleverly used to represent Noboru’s and Nonoko’s “fairy tale” entrance into the world. 
However, it’s the animation which is the massive step away from the typical style of Studio Ghibli. While detailed backgrounds and top-notch character design have become the standards of Ghibli’s artistic legacy, Isao Takahata has been brave in his unique visual departure. My Neighbour The Yamadas uses a watercolour style of sketching that while looks minimalist, manages to convey a surprising amount of detail and emotion. 100% digitally constructed, the simplistic character designs and flowing colours of the backgrounds, help define the characters and allows for each scenes’ personality to be beautifully displayed.
The Japanese voice acting is superb, really suiting the visualisation of the characters. For a film that relies on the construction of a realistic family, the actors really put in great performance. Touru Masuoka is great as the busy, hard-working Mr Yamada. His constant bickering with his mother-in-law, and unenthusiastic reaction towards work, create a character that represents the general consensus of fathers. Yukiji Asaoka plays the childish and clumsy housewife, that while scorns her children’s behaviour, has a low tolerance for chores and general laziness. Hayato Isobata plays the typical teenager boy, a slacker yet strong-willed and not afraid to question the reality of his family. In comparison, Naomi Uno adds cuteness and normality into the chaotic family as Nonoko. While she doesn’t get enough screen-time, her character still remains memorable. Meanwhile, Masako Araki puts in a splendid performance as the grandmother. The critical and fearless voice of conscience, she finds the ‘joys of life’ in the smaller things. Its a fantastic cast of actors and actresses that create a very believable household. 
The soundtrack, composed by Akiko Yano, is made up of short jazzy piano tunes that perfectly merge with the orchestral pieces from the Czech Philharmonic Chamber Orchestra. Its one that perfectly manages to match the jovial and charming visuals, story and acting. 
Overall, My Neighbours The Yamadas is a fantastic animated film that definitely competes with many of Miyazaki’s works. Its realistic and humorous perception of ‘family’ is endearing and highly entertaining. While many will be unconvinced by the visual style and a ‘disjointed’ narrative, Isao Takahata’s film proves that a great animated film doesn’t require snazzy and meticulous animation, but requires a funny and smart story, script and characters. This is one not to be missed. 
9/10 

Wednesday, 20 July 2011

From Kokuriko Hill (コクリコ坂から) Review

From Kokuriko Hill (コクリコ坂から) or (From Up On Poppy Hill)

I'm currently on holiday in Japan, thus was fortunate to see the new Studio Ghibli film. Here is my review: 

Gorō Miyazaki returns after his ‘not so impressive’ Tales from Earthsea in 2006, with a wonderful adaptation of Tetsuo Sayama and Chizuru Takahashi’s 1980s manga. After gaining negative reaction, including winning the ‘Worst Movie’ and ‘Worst Director’ awards in the 2006 Japan’s Bunshun Raspberry Award, many have been apprehensive towards Gorō’s next project. This criticism has certainly hurt Gorō reputation, but it all seems too critical. Many seem to forget that Tales from Earthsea was his directorial debut, and with his father being the great Hayao Miyazaki, it was always going to be tough for Gorō to make a spectacular first impression. However From Kokuriko Hill is a fantastic addition to Studio Ghibli’s strong filmography and certainly proves Gorō Miyazaki has enough cinematic and animation knowledge to work under the prestigious banner. It’s charming, funny and refreshing after the constant magical and fantasy approach of the studio, and Japanese animation in general. 
The story takes place in Yokohama in 1963, where we follow High-School student, Umi Komatsuzaki. She looks after her grandmother, younger brother and sister, whilst completing the housework. Each morning she raises her ‘Safe Voyage’ flag, and heads to school. After witnessing a stunt by the ‘Culture Club’, Umi meets Shu, a fellow student who is ‘second-in-command’ of the club, and Shirou, the President of the Student Council. It is this new found friendship and relationship between Shu and Umi which builds and matures revealing an intertwining background and charming romance. Alongside this character-driven story is the struggle occurring between the high-school and the various students of the ‘Culture Club’. The dilapidated building filled with history and memories is being threatened to be demolished. It’s up to the students to convince the ‘adults’ that their creation and interests are preserved. 
Written by Hayao Miyazaki and Keiko Niwa, the story is realistic and historic in theme. Gone are the cutesy, magical monsters and characters, as well as the environmental commentaries Studio Ghibli is best known for. Instead From Kokuriko Hill deals with the ‘Rise of Post-War Japan’ and the incoming Tokyo Olympics. The film certainly creates a fitting atmosphere. Shots of Japan’s growing exporting and importing industries, office businesses and the hustle and bustle of Tokyo, clearly indicate the modern transformation of the country. We also experience the tragic nature of the Korean War and the impact on families and friends. The story also focuses on the widening gap/ split between traditional Japanese culture and the modern, business age. It was during this ‘miracle’ period where Japan looked forward, rather than back, and the contest between the ‘school’ and the ‘students’ dramatise this theme. The contrast between the old buildings and industries of Yokohama, and the trains, cars of Tokyo symbolise the changing ideologies and philosophies of the nation.
While it may sound very mature when compared to previous Studio Ghibli’s films, it still deals with adolescents in a adult world, like Nausicaa and Laputa. However whilst magical characters and mysticism connect with the imaginations of children, From Kokuriko Hill uses its high-school environment and the sincere, pure nature of childhood relations to connect with younger audiences. It’s the characters that help with the portrayal of the story and the bring these environments and themes to the screen. And they are fantastic. While not as memorable when compared to the likes of Chihiro (Spirited Away) and Totoro (My Neighbour Totoro), they still possess enough personality and charm for the audience to care for them. We are introduced to various different students, all whom have different personalities. However the film focuses on the main characters of Umi and Shu and therefore unfortunately leads to other characters not being fully explored or developed to the same extent. Umi is beautifully portrayed and developed. Her calm, mature exterior hides her damaged background. We experience the loss of her father, and the growing pressure and responsibility she has gained with her mother studying abroad. Meanwhile, the strong-willed, charming personality of Shu, also obscures an uncertain background that becomes clearer with the relationship with Umi. Gorō and the writers have carefully constructed the characters and story, achieving a steady pace that allows for a deeper exploration into From Kokuriko Hill’s world. 
The film looks amazing. After the spectacular animation of the previous Studio Ghibli production Arrietty The Borrower, it would seem impossible to top the artistic achievement of that film. However From Kokuriko Hill manages to. With its detailed interiors and sublime visual portrayal of Yokohama and the coast, its simply jaw-dropping to see the painstaking animation, artistic competence and talent that was involved in creating such an beautiful film. Clever sequences of animation liven up dull scenes like climbing stairs, as the ‘camera’ constantly follows the characters rather than having still ‘shots’. Alongside the fantastic animation is the soundtrack which is brilliant as always. Satoshi Takebe mixes long-flowing orchestral pieces with lively, jazz-like tunes like those of Kiki’s Delivery Service. It all adds personality to each scene without over-powering or distracting from the visual nature of the picture. Aoi Teshima ‘Summer of Farewells’ is a fantastic theme song, that remains in the memory well after the end of the film. 
Overall, From Kokuriko Hill is a wonderful piece of animated cinema that certainly shows Gorō Miyazaki growing talent. Not only is it a beautiful work of art and song, but it’s a triumph in story-telling and character development. While it isn’t as memorable as the likes of My Neighbour Totoro and Spirited Away, and moves away from the magical essence of Studio Ghibli, it is still is impressively constructed and directed. And with the unfortunate inevitability that Hayao Miyazaki, Isao Takahata and Toshio Suzuki won’t be around forever, it is reassuring that young artists and directors are successfully proving themselves as the future of Studio Ghibli. 
8/10

Note :Unfortunately an international release date has yet to be decided. Therefore I imagine the USA and UK won’t get a chance to see this spectacle until 2012. 




Monday, 11 April 2011

Summer Wars (サマーウオーズ)Review


Summer Wars (サマーウオーズ)

By the same director of The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, Mamoru Hosada, Summer Wars is a delightfully quirky and beautifully animated film that rectifies the mistakes of his previous feature. The story has been made more accessible for Western audiences and is much more rounded and balanced. The animation is stellar as usual, and the characters have been well crafted and well written. This all amounts to an animated film which is charming, engrossing, and humorous. Summer Wars is simply wonderful and challenges the Miyazaki-dominated genre of Japanese animation.
The plot focuses on the world of ‘Oz’. Essentially, ‘Oz’ is a virtual network that incorporates social networking, gaming and browsing, with the important infrastructures of society; military, government and finances etc. So basically, a sort of Facebook meets Skynet. Kenji Koiso (Ryunosuke Kamiki) is a maths wizz at his eleventh grade school, and acquires a part time job working in Oz with his friend Takashi Sakuma (Takahiro Yokokawa). However, when the most popular girl in school, Natsuki (Nanami Sakuraba), asks him to help out at her great-grandmother, Sakae Jinnouchi’s 90th birthday, he jumps at the opportunity. During his first night at the massive estate of the Jinnouchi family in Ueda, he receives an anonymous text message consisting of random lines of code. Kenji automatically solves it, not understanding the consequences of his actions. He wakes up to find, that ‘Oz’ has been hacked into using his own account and is in disarray. Japan’s infrastructure such as water, traffic and emergency services are now under the control of the hacking A.I known as ‘Love Machine’. 
The story is well structured and balanced with an ending that is memorable and satisfying. Critics have challenged the film’s plot, stating that it’s too conventional and offers nothing new or original. The idea of a computer system going haywire has been done by films like The Terminator and Tron. Many have drawn similarities to the 1983 War Games ,which is understandable. Both films have teenagers who unwittingly help an artificial A.I or computer system, which subsequently leads to Armageddon. Both also have a youthful romantic essence to the story. However, others critics have attacked the complexities of ‘Oz’ and a ‘convoluted’ narrative. So, whose right? I personally feel that the plot as been well-crafted. Hosada has been professional in his approach to the story. Whilst we have teenage ‘coming to age’ story, the colourful characters and the world of Oz, ensures that Summer Wars is enjoyed by all. Sure, the story is conventional, but its done perfectly with a balance of action, romance, drama and comedy. It doesn’t disappoint. The only small problem I had with Summer Wars is the reference of the traditional Japanese Hanafuda game of ‘Koi Koi’ in the story. This will confuse many Western audiences, but Hosada implements this well into the film without making it crucial to the plot. In fact, I actually feel compelled to investigate this aspect of Japanese culture right now.....
The characters are fantastic and have very unique personalities. The film focuses on the interactions between Kenji and the large Jinnouchi family, which is portrayed superbly and with so much depth. Kenji is our typical teenager; socially awkward, addicted to technology  and shy around girls. But throughout the course of the film he opens up to the family and Natsuki, forming a stronger and engrossing individual. Natsuki is cute, charming and likeable. We feel her sadness, joy and toughness throughout the film, therefore building a strong emotional attachment to the character. The Jinnouchi family itself consists of a barrage of colourful characters. From the wise and strong-willed great-grandmother, Sakae, to the ‘fighter’ and hikikomori (‘an individual suffering from social withdraw, who confines themselves to their room’), Kazuma, each character has a unique personality that is expressed and handled masterfully. This is also helped by the impressive Japanese voice-work that comes across natural and matches the various natures of the characters. 

The animation is similar to the The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, yet manages to feel refreshing. The backgrounds are fantastic as always with Hosada’s creations. They are lush and very detailed; from the busy streets of Tokyo, to the scenic landscapes of the Nagano Prefecture. Again the traits of Japanese manga and ‘anime’ are present; constant nose-bleeds due to embarrassment, anger causing a sharpening of the teeth etc. But these don’t distract from the overall animated aspect of the film. In fact, they add a lot more visual personality to the each of the characters. However the ‘World of Oz’ is where the animation steps up a gear. The internal workings of this virtual infrastructure are so intricate and perfectly animated. Its quite amazing how many ‘Oz avatars’, subjects, and objects are carefully implemented onto the screen. The ‘fighting scenes’ between ‘Love Machine’ and ‘King Kazuma’ are expertly handled and are intense. Its simple jaw dropping to watch, yet remains charming and engaging.
Overall, Summer Wars is fantastic and does justice to the ‘anime’ genre of Japanese cinema. While The Girl Who Leapt Through Time was fantastic I felt this Hosada creation was a much more rounded experience, and certainly rectified the issues I and many others had over his previous work. The magic is Hosada’s ability to structure and manage each character in the film, and still allow each of them to be fully expressed. The story has been crafted to be accessible to Western audience, but remains very Japanese,  engrossing and enjoyable. The animation is superb and very well detailed, and the voice work is great. Mamoru Hosada has crafted a film that truly challenges the strong Miyazaki -dominated genre of Japanese animation cinema, and surpasses the recent works of Studio Ghibli. 
9/10 



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