A Visit To The Carnival Part Three: Starlight Angel & CLOUD

So strange, that seconds after the stirring poetics of PRESENCE, that we are taken into something more "fittingly anime", as we are now in the fluffy wonders exhibited by Hiroyuki Kitazume's STARLIGHT ANGEL. Set in a robot-themed Disneyworld, complete with mecha exhibits, rides, and parades(!), ANGEL tells the music videolike tale of a young girl's love lost and gained. Told with all the vibrance, and saccharine optimism befitting of a Yuu Hayami, or Yoko Oginome video, it is at once cute, colorful, and completely forgettable. Which isn't to say that this musical venture into nearly transparent pop light show is a complete loss since it does feature an impressive amount of visual flare, and an amazing monster mecha creation near the finale(albeit for no clear reason, other than to have an antagonist of some sort). It is a sugary sweet respite from the more somber, artistically inclined seriousness of the previous entry.

Looking at it now, this installment is a clear-cut vision of Bubble Japan's great wish for a future complete with cute girls(whom I swear, our lead character is a dead ringer precursor to just about every modern "moe" archetype- Yui Hirasawa, anyone?), cute machines, pretty boys, and enough technological nostalgia and wistful longing to fill a warehouse full of tourism brochures. STARLIGHT ANGEL may be terribly light on ideas, but is a stark reminder of the promise of Japan during this pivotal time period. The feeling is so much so that it is hard to imagine how this would even play to a roomful of modern anime enthusiasts. Culture shock indeed.

It is as if there were no real limits to what could be done with not merely anime, that technical innovation was the key, and no economic downturn was in sight. Which makes this one all the more strangely tragic as I watch it again. Even so, this is a lighter entry in the film, and a fascinating footnote piece.

Which then leads us into the one piece concocted by someone not particularly known as part of the same community, but a notable one nonetheless. More a part of a larger component of a modern art exhibit than a standard anime production, CLOUD is the beautiful journey of man, and his relationship with technology as witnessed by an ever changing world. Panels, sometimes cut off into sections of the screen display the long walk of what looks to be a robotic child across various backgrounds. Lushly illustrated and animated, the piece is both soothing, and poetic to a fault. Featuring haunting music by Isaku Fujita, the sound is reminiscent of ambient masters Harold Budd & Brian Eno. And the often colorless artwork granted such details as how the wind affects the robot child's clothing as he walks is sublime in ways animation can only best achieve in this manner. Also worthy of note is the child's design that resembles a combination of both Tezuka's Atomu and Gerhardt, perhaps using Tezuka's iconographics to illustrate Japan's ascension from isolationist island, to a part of a larger, more volatile planet.

It is a startling mood piece that while is zero on the narrative front, is a singular achievement akin to the best avant garde works. It says so much with so little, making it a personal favorite in any medium.

Stay Tuned For Next Time: A Strange Tale of Meiji Machines: Episode of the Red Haired Man's Invasion (AKA A Tale Of Two Robots) & Chicken Man & Red Neck(aka NIGHTMARE)!

A Visit To The Carnival Part One:

And so this last weekend came to a bit of a head when the roomie up and asked to watch something she hadn't seen from my collection. Even though I know she had caught scenes and images from it in the past, it only felt right that on a cool, stormy night that we break out the warm tea, the heater set to medium high, and pop a classic anime omnibus into the player.

And this time, it is 1987's ROBOT CARNIVAL that exploded upon her eyes.

A true artifact of a very different era, Kazufumi Nomura Studio A.P.P.P. went all-out to present a Japanese equivalent to Disney's Fantasia with this one, enlisting the talents of some of the medium's heaviest hitters, and fashioned out one of "Bubble Japan's" singular anime events. All while utilizing a core theme, the use of machines often as stars/co-stars of each short piece, the anthology film weaves a tapestry of techno-wonder, fear, and possible concern for the future of a nation enamored with its newfound place in the world.

Oh, sure we've seen large scale art projects like this make it out in the form of Meikyû Monogatari (Neo-Tokyo)(1989), MEMORIES (1995), and even more recently with the Genius Party projects. But we have yet to experience a project quite on this scale, and with so much budget to burn. And featuring a nearly fully electronic musical scoe by the likes of Miyazaki fave, Jo Hisaishi, as well as Isaku Fujita, and Masahisa Takeishi. We are talking a lavish production for its time, and without the constraints of contemporary industry desperation. We are talking anime unhinged, and totally free. There are simply too many moments from each segment that evoke multiple thoughts that it only felt right to do more than merely review, but to give impressions on each segment. Make noise on which shorts I still treasure, as well as scratch my had at the ones that never quite worked for me.

So if you're looking for a more focused overview of ROBOT CARNIVAL, please partake of Justin Sevakis' classic Buried Treasure writeup! What I'll be doing here is something closer to a commentary on feelings old and new that surfaced after this latest viewing.


Firstly, let me go ahead and start by skipping the brilliantly comic bookend piece created by the legendary Katsuhiro Otomo & famed Key Animator, Atsuko Fukushima. We'll go ahead and share words regarding this increasingly relevant entry at the end of this special as I hope to get some more appropriate words saved for it. While still an integral part of a still impressive whole, it really does deserve its own special section of the shelf.

So for now, let's venture into the initial short of this odyssey of sight and sound by looking at elusive animation demigod, Koji Morimoto's Franken's Gear. Morimoto is a name that can be more famous had he taken the safer route ala many of his contemporaries (Oshii, Otomo, Kitakubo,etc.), but remained somewhat a phantom figure in anime circles. Fans may remember certain iconic shots and sequences in popular works such as AKIRA, some of Sharon Apple's dazzling animation in Macross Plus, but most recent fans may remember his stunning work in the Animatrix short, BEYOND. More comfortable with visuals, and implication, Morimoto delivers one of the more middle of the road efforts with this wordless tale of a wacky elder scientist, and his attempt to create mechanical "life".

Almost minimal in a silent era manner, the short takes place in what seems to be a hidden castle as a violent storm brews just outside. This setup allows Morimoto and staff to create this stark world of darks and lights. A shadowplay of sorts with lightning allowing stark casts of light to creats shapes around the rickety, and almost collapsing laboratory is created, giving the whole piece a strange sense of life. With the architecture and equipment constantly being affected by the winds outside, the animation is spared no expense as nearly the entire frame is in some form of forced motion. And as the scientist lowers himself into the dark bowels of the lab, and sees that his creation seems to be rising, it is both evocative of a certain Universal monster's birth, and yet with this volatile background that shifts and weaves, making it a feast for the eyes to see just what isn't moving.

It is only here that the bloatedness of the piece reveals itself, and we are given less to follow storywise. At its base, this is a quick gag, exposing the futility of man's inability to better understand their creations. (something that can be applied to children as well as machines) And as a one-joke premise, there really isn't much to talk about. And seeing as how we are looking at pure animation rather than narrative, all we're left with is the experience which while is fun to watch, isn't terribly compelling to start the film off with. And again, being a fan of Morimoto's works, this comes off as less a signature work, but rather an interesting curio piece for those interested in anime history.

Stay tuned for next time as we leap headlong into DEPRIVE & Yasuomi Umetsu's PRESENCE.