State Of The Kaijyu: Prelude To Revolution

Thanksgiving is right around the corner, and not a turkey in sight. (Lest you consider a belated session involving The X Files: I Want To Believe, anyway) With the weather bearing down on many of us in the So-Cal area, as well as an upcoming trip to the old hometown, things will likely continue to be mildly quiet around here. Which isn't in any way implying that I haven't had my hands full with new, and old stuff to watch over the last several days. In fact, true to my most recent Anime Diet post, it has quickly become a retro season of sorts for me as not only did I get another chance to look and share thoughts on an obscure 1980s favorite in California Crisis, but a healthy number of titles by way of several sweet sources. Now not initially ready to share about all of them on the Diet (after all, I find that spreading the fun around is a lot more interesting), there will be a few posts regarding a few on these pages. But for now, seriously give that AD post some loving, as I find that it's ambitious one-shot OAVs like those that helped solidify my love of the medium in those oh so physical days of the pre-wired.

In other, mildly online project related news:

 

Pretty exciting stuff, I feel anyway. After a year of running a show, a part of me is so ready to take it to the next logical tier. Updates as they come(via Twitter, of course!)

 

A Schoolyard Brawl Gone Awry: Project A-ko At 25 Years

For those looking for a barrage of words obsessing over yet another anime favorite might do well to take a peek at my last big post over at Anime Diet, where I shared some long unshared thoughts regarding a wild 80s gem!

"Project A-ko by its very nature, is anime broken down to its most base components, packed with nitro-glycerin for blood, and shamelessness on its sleeve in its wanton reverence for otaku fantasies & lack of regard toward anything resembling conventional narrative. This is a penultimate example of a medium fully at the mercy of a mad group of artists in love with their work. An animator’s anime. All the wild takes, inside-gaggery, and hyperbolic action one expects- and yet in the realm of these seemingly stock-card thin characters, there is a life that veers well beyond the borders of the screen(and possibly bounces off into another universe). We’re talking a film that does for seifuku what 2001: A Space Odyssey does for viewers as David Bowman enters Jupiter And Beyond The Infinite."

For the full review, go HERE!

Live Action Manga Blues [What Won't Be Covered]

Perhaps before charging headlong into my exploration of the dearth of memorable live action manga/anime output that has come out of Japan in recent years, perhaps it is best to just go ahead and let folks in on exactly what I won't be covering. As long as japanese cinema & tv has been around, the comics world has been a somewhat common well to often be mined by the big studios. And since comics in Japan meant a lot more than merely superheroes, there has been a fascinating wealth of mentionable movie versions. Some good, some not-so-good. The point is, that aside from the animation industry's love of animating popular manga titles, and having a certain edge over the live action community, this has been a long accepted staple of popular movies.

Some of which have significant fan followings regardless of the limits that low budget live action often provide. And a lot of this naturally lies with the choice of content.

We won't be talking about some of the earliest adaptations like the 1962 attempt at bringing Tetsuwan Atomu to life, nor will we go into the ever popular
Lone Wolf And Cub , or the scuzzy fantastic of the Sasori films. The latter as much as I've enjoyed them in the past, is a fitting title that works in those films as there is a historical grounding that allows us to better accept the stories. Where my interest lies in finding the enjoyment in bringing the wild, unrestrained nature of manga to life in this more fluid medium. So perhaps now one can see where this is all going to go...

There's a language in live action film that can get lost when dealing with the often hyperbolic nature of japanese comics, a medium that sprouts beyond mere concepts such as panels, and seems to leap from the page as if the paper itself can't contain the visuals. And now considering the bizarre & vibrant directions manga took come the 1970s, the film community must have salivated at the idea of taking on some works before considering the iconographic necessities of said works. Whether the film be yet another fun tokusatsu spin on a famous title, or even a gritty, violent celebration of one perennial badass or another , the films of the 60s - 90s covered the gamut of film interpretations whether or not the source material begs to be made live.

Some examples?

Try HAUSU director, Nobuhiko Obayashi when he took his loopy sensibilities to tell a bizarrely international co-ed version of Kazuo Umezzu's legendary horror epic, The Drifting Classroom(Hyoori Kyooshitsu). A landmark of awkward.



(So, if your head hasn't completely exploded, let's move on.)

Also near this time, comes the ever puzzling initial version of Takahashi's
seinen favorite, Maison Ikkoku.



-Now one may be thinking that Ikkoku doesn't follow my train of thought. In an odd way, it is one of those rare instances where despite the world of the manga, there's something about it going live action that somehow feels false. A strange inversion of reality takes place, which can be argued will become an issue with later films.

The treatment of manga in live form is such an insurmountably difficult achievement to pull off, which is why it is that we have seen so many fall by the wayside with the occasional moment, or laugh. And more likely than not, this is either due to technical limitations, or as in many adaptations made here in the US, a lack of understanding what connected readers to the original work in the first place. So many elements come into that manner of play that can be lost on film. (calling nearly every single video game adaptation to date) And so, we'll be looking more into adaptations made in a time where CG and special effects have eliminated one part of the limits, thereby leaving the one remaining question to the bulk of these films, "why do they still not work?"

We will be checking out several "big scale" productions that have surfaced within and after the anime boom of the late 90s-2000s in hopes of finding out what happened.

And, as tempting as the notion may be..We will be avoiding Rapeman.

Sorry.

A Visit To The Carnival Part Two: DEPRIVE & PRESENCE

And so we're back and venturing a little further into the 1987 anime anthology, ROBOT CARNIVAL, and have spent a little time on the project itself as well as the inital short with Franken's Gear. And now is the part where the omnibus element truly begins in earnest, as we take a hard left from wordless/artsy/comical, to just plain perplexing with DEPRIVE.

As much a demo reel for an abandoned tv anime project as it is a tribute to thirty years of manga-inspired motion and color, Hidetoshi Ohmori's entry is a short, jumbled mess vaguely telling the story of a robot invasion, the abduction of an innocent girl, and her machine lover who sets out to rescue her from the alien mechanoid hordes. This is about as simple as anime gets, and as such, it is (at least to me) the most forgettable entry in the entire collection. Even as the pulsating 80s synth rock does its best to arise us from the stupor of inert storytelling, and seemingly random imagery, all we truly get here is a snapshot of where the medium was at this particular time. Awash in pulp sensibilities, and vibrant color, there is little sense to the whole affair. And even for the type of anthology we are here to watch, the animation quality is only upper par television, lower grade OAV work. There are some mildly intriguing designs throughout the short, but perhaps only do so by reminding this writer of shows he could be watching. With this in mind, DEPRIVE does have some goofy charm underneath all that macho-glam facade.

Which leads us headlong into a short so strong, it can stand on its own without a robot-themed omnibus presentation, Yasuomi Umetsu's PRESENCE.

Set in an alternate, not quite steampunk, not quite post-Victorian England, PRESENCE is the tale of a lone inventor who seems to have quite a bit of freedom to create being married to an aggressive businesswoman. And yet in his workshop lies his biggest project, and a most troubling secret.

To even attempt to give Umetsu's entry an oversimplified description would do it a great disservice since there are so many wonders at work in it. From the powerful world building at play, to the obviously overlabored hand drawn animation that still stuns to this day, this is an animation lover's paradise aside from being a powerful meditation of vice and unrequited love. Running at nearly fifteen minutes, and being one of the only vignettes to contain actual dialogue, this is a prime example of the anime medium at the height of its power. It is also the most telling type of project that not only reflects two ends of Japan's full-fledged vision for an artistic foothold in the world market, as well as a premonition of social issues that were already taking shape in a society bereft of an industrial revolution.

The inventor's greatest creation, is among one of the film's most indelible curiosities. Designed like a porcelain doll, adorned with robes more akin to a Japanese idol's closet post-detonation, she also longs for a closeness that her creator seems to have a deep aversion to. Her image alone works both as a celebration of the art form's evolution, while her actual role is something akin to an early obit for it. From her iconic stare (an Umetsu trademark, also seen in later favorites such as 1998's Kaito, and later, MEZZO FORTE, the former which can still be considered an essential OVA, despite it's over-the-top nature), to the lush animation around her, she is an utterly striking example of how much time and money had been given to young animation artists at the time, and also stands as a bold totem for hand-drawn animation in the latter days of the method. Looking at it now, this is both thrilling, and a terribly sad reminder of what once was.

Even as the final moments of PRESENCE pass, one is left with more than merely simple awe at the presentation, but also with a strange sense that Umetsu and possibly crew were eerily ahead of the curve. The themes of a surrogate, artificial form of endeavor, and the panic that ensues when it attempts to reclaim the love given to it via procurement are strangely prescient in the collector/Akiba-kei/isolationist mindset that must have only been simmering around the mid 80s. To see the doll make movements toward humanity, while the human resists makes for a startlingly honest moment in anime at a time that was still quite in love with Hollywood-esque escapism.

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.

The State Of The Kaijyu & An Invitation To A Carnival...

Just when it began to feel a little too quiet around here....

Enough with the podcast links and onto something resembling an update here. Well it has been a pretty rough and tumble series of weeks as exhibited by the dearth of new posts on these pages. What with work, illness (still pending btw), and a newly acquired schedule, things were more than a little distant for sometime. Which is why as of this week, things will be a little busier. That's right, we'll be giving you quite a bit of material that I had been hoping to share since the latter weeks of 2010. From more film & tv verbiage, to local events, and Japanese media silly to perhaps even newer forms of bloggy-do. I'm happy to finally be able to stretch, and have an opportunity to present more thoughts on media past & present, and will do my darndest to give it a unique enough spin to keep pals coming back.

As the new schedule dictates, I'm going to do my part to be back in the three to five posts per week habit. And along with everything else going on, this feels like a safe cache of numbers to work with.

So in the spirit of new rhythm, here's this week's Karaoke Crush- [Hey, she was going to be a part of this eventually!]



And perhaps this can put us in the mindset of the upcoming series of posts I have in store this week.

Not sure why I've been in such the mood to explore some of my dusty old vids, but I guess it was only a matter of time when I gave a reliable favorite some discussion on the blog...so for now, I leave with you all with a plain, simple, no-nonsense hint.