With Love: Year 5 Of Oshii-Week

                             

                        Without a need to stop along much of the same territory covered by friends who have actually published work regarding the film and art of Japanese auteur/anime legend, Mamoru Oshii, it felt right to go ahead and let readers in on what has become something of an annual ritual. That's right, at least one week out of the year becomes the time in which I turn the domicile into a bunker, as I break out all the films I own directed by the enigmatic Tokyoite. There isn't so much any rhyme or reason for this, except that there are many times in which I get on something of a contemplative kick, with a need for something a little more artistically ambitious. More interested in questions than declarations, and aesthetically beguiling to boot. And this side of only a handful of the world's filmmakers, Oshii's signatures fit this challenging bill nicely. 

Starting from last Monday thru Friday, I started up my player with films ranging from his animated to his live action output, and often in no specific order. (perhaps going from least to favorite- but even "off-day Oshii is far more interesting than the average jobber director.) And strangely enough, I went out of my way to avoid Urusei Yatsura 2: Beautiful Dreamer(1984), as well as perhaps his most famous work, Ghost In The Shell (1995). And not because of any measure of dislike, except that these get more play per year than most, so it only felt proper to allow these to sit this year's edition out.

Monday:  Talking Head (1992)
Still something of a personal work among what are almost all personal works. This quasi-satirical look at the anime world from the view of a crew seeking to finish a famous director's latest opus after his disappearance is something of a film-school grade curiosity, rather than an actual film. Something that can still render most curious parties disinterested, packs some fascinating punch as it holds little back about the dregs of working on what is ostensibly product. With actors as representations of each level of what seems to be a three-legged table of undertaking, Talking Head is a bizarre, yet miraculous peek into the mind of a director who had yet to reach the peak of his popularity.

Tuesday: Innocence: Ghost In The Shell 2 (2004)
Still something of a status report, and not so much a sequel to the mid-90s landmark, Innocence is in many ways still a marvel of production that is weighted down by Oshii's inability to decide what it is he's trying to convey. Even when his lead Batou quotes passages left and right from Milton to La Mettrie, it is clear that our director is taking the support from Ghibli, and running with it towards making his own euro-styled art-house piece with cybernetically augmented agents. And while there are many astonishing images and moments to be had in the film, it is almost clear that success has only made Oshii that much more disinterested in the medium that granted him prominence

Wednesday: AVALON (2001)
Some might call it more ponderous beauty by Oshii, but is that really a bad thing? In the years before World Of Warcraft and Call Of Duty became monoliths of the gaming cyberspace, this post-Matrix vision of a society addicted is still a small wonder to behold. Filmed in Poland, and with an all-Polish cast, AVALON remains one of my personal favorite pieces of speculative science fiction art, and it seems to gather more power as time goes on. And a lot of it may be due to Oshii's often cool-handed treatment of the scripts he works out with frequent collaborator, Kazunori Ito. When they work together, there almost always seems to be a set of central relationships that are hinted at, rather than explicitly depicted. So when changes hit our leads, the are clocked via a facial expression, a sudden verbal outburst, or even an act of violence. For as much philosophy is shared and contemplated in his films, the humanity is almost always seen peeking from the corners..

Thursday: Patlabor: The Movie (1989)
Now this one's a bit of a cheat, I must admit. Because as fun as this one is, it does rank among my lesser favorite Oshii films. It is a compromised work, there is no doubt of this as the hands of not only the franchise's creative collective, HEADGEAR are looking to maintain the flavor of the television series, while Oshii clearly seems to be wishing to tackle the speculative baggage head-on. And what results is a fun, but fractured mess. Still, there are many great cast moments to be had, including "PIZZA DATE!" and Ohta beating the snot out of a runaway labor as the operator hangs inside helplessly. Much of the spirit of the series and OVAs is here, but one cannot help but feel like a creative tug-of-war was taking place. Which could only lead to...


Friday: Patlabor 2 (1993)
Not only my personal favorite Oshii piece, but possibly one of my favorite pieces of animated filmmaking, period. Taking an almost spiritual about-face from the franchise that spawned it, P2 is something of all things Oshii is capable of doing, and offers up one stimulating experience. Taking the premise of a world dependent upon machines to handle humanity's more arduous tasks, Japan is suddenly taken to task for all the sacrifices made to become an economic powerhouse. Unafraid to ask questions of Japan's roles in affairs of state, as well as the role of it's military, Oshii envisions a Japan in the grips of a conflict that may or may not reveal a longstanding array of facades to a public weaned on technical innovation. Not unlike neglected relationships, despite position, and social stature.  As difficult as it must have been to construct on a story level, this is perhaps the story Oshii had long been wanting to tackle with such an interesting world. While the fallout of this led to the eventual ending of HEADGEAR, and to the making of Izibuchi's lesser WXIII film, Patlabor 2 remains something of an anomaly in anime, something of a novel in animated form- ready to welcome repeat viewings from any point in time & bookmark.

Memories Of Satoshi Kon

Nearly eight hours since I first read the saddening news, and I'm still in a haze. I didn't expect to wake up this morning to fire up the laptop, resume job hunting, as well as preparing new posts, when a trusted news source Tweeted that visionary filmmaker Satoshi Kon had lost a battle with cancer at age 47. Naturally, doubt took hold for a few second, but then why would Takeda from Gainax lie about such a thing? The anime/film industry is not known for pulling such crass stunts, let alone someone from such a reknowned studio. And then things truly shifted moments later, when Studio Mad House's own Masao Maruyama confirmed the news.

Satoshi Kon was in fact gone, and the media world had lost a creative giant.


It feels like only a few years ago, when his name took a special hold in my heart. It was back when his animated adaptation of Yoshikazu Takeuchi's idol-world psychosaga Perfect Blue had begun to make a name for itself in cult film circles via magazines. And it wasn't until catching it at Anime Expo ' 99, did I feel the power of this incredible new voice. By taking the medium of animation, Kon had weaved a rare tapestry of sight and sound that both paid tribute to the best of the gialli, as well as trailblazed a daring new path for film narrative. It was a truly extraordinary experience, made all the more memorable, when the player used in the screening broke down in the middle of the film's reality-warping third act, making the entire crowd visibly troubled.

Upon the film's revival, the crowd broke into the fastest loud cheer I've ever witnessed for a film. The burst was audibly intense, and yet quick, in order to get right back into the thrill of the story. Kon had this crowd in the palm of his hands, no doubt. And I was right there with them.

Years later, I had already heard word of his follow-up which was to explore the life of a famed actress from the early half of the twentieth century, but I had no clue just how much Kon's melancholy drama Millennium Actress would resonate with me. Stretching across not only her life in the movies, but through the trials, and tribulations of a country evolving, the tale of Chiyoko Fujiwara was something that only alchemists of film can truly conjure, proving that the man's talents were far beyond the fare he had tinkered with previously, which was mostly horror & genre fiction (Roujin Z, Memories, World Apartment Horror).

And still, his assault on the mind via transcendent animation, and provocative ideas reached an apex when his career offered a one-two combo in the forms of a unique heartwearming comedy, Tokyo Godfathers, as well as the ultra grim spiritual follow-up to Perfect Blue, the television masterpiece, Paranoia Agent. Handling two seemingly different types of works within a short span of years seems suicidal when considering the high watermark of quality these works engendered, and yet both deliver strong amounts of emotion coupled with a genuine worry for Japan's contemporary spirit, as well as showcasing brilliant looks at the strains of everyday life. Somehow, Kon's characters, and tales have a relation factor that is unusually high in so that it blurs the distinctions between live action and animated material. His works function as neither the atypical Japanese production, nor does it ever cater to the anime otaku market. Somehow, his works exist in a universe all their own, and grant amazing replay value for those looking to immerse themselves in novel-like storytelling, with a penchant for the surreal.

So it must have felt natural, to follow-up the critical international success of these shows with a daring return to the type of mindbending material that brought him to this plateau. When upon first hearing that Kon's next venture was to take on one of Tsutsui's bizarre, and thematically complex novels in the science-fiction satire, Paprika, a bulk of us said, naturally! It only made sense, but perhaps to those who had in fact read the novel, it probably came off as a near impossibility. With such a strange use of language, and the ever iconic blurring of dream & real, it must have been something of a worrisome prospect for some. But alas, when the film was unleashed upon the world stage in 2006, the world embraced the wonder, and mystery of what was essentially the culmination of Kon's work thus far. A more lyrical, psychedelic mystery than the novel's dark satire, Paprika engendered an even more ravenous fan base. My memories of catching this for the first time surrounded by industry friends are as strong as if they had just occurred last night. Such an unapologetically made piece of work must have even been perplexing to many Japanese audiences, but somehow, the human heart of the piece buoys proceedings, and provides some of the most startling hallucinogenic imagery ever committed to film.

While not my favorite Kon film, it is a brilliant way to bow out, and will likely offer years of discussion with new friends as they discover it for themselves.

Which brings me back to what makes his works so special to me, they offered a bold alternative for the mutual worlds of the animated and the live by never adhering to pre-prescribed rules, and yet remaining intellectually and emotionally stimulating. They stand as proof that the visual medium can indeed break free from format and be successful. They also prove that anime can in fact work beyond the quick sell, and offer some much needed soul searching in a media society sometimes deeply neglectful of it. His works are existing proof that the nurturing of talent, as well as the support of it are paramount, despite what the often terrified media congloms would rather have us believe. There are no sure bets, so why bother play the same old table? The works of Satoshi Kon are of a universe not too far from ours, and we see the potential all over, and must'nt ignore the power it not only grants us as viewers, but to the creators who open the world to new forms & feelings.

I'll truly miss anticipating the works of this important voice, but I will also rejoice in the fact that he was actually here, and remains so as a beacon of hope for not only the media industries, but for all voices longing to explore new facets of the human experience.

Instrumentality's Legacy Perpetuated (words of an apologist?)

Spent the last week rejoicing over the Japanese DVD/Blu-Ray release of Rebuild Of Evangelion 2.22: You Can (Not) Advance, and adding a few more thoughts to the ether about a film that has me less divided than it had last summer. Now obviously, up and getting the disc itself is perhaps the most glaring evidence that I didn't dislike it as much as my previous Anime Diet review had implied. To be wholly humble, there is still a part of me that has a modicum of sympathy for the work of Anno & Tsurumaki, despite their more commercial output in recent years. And despite the fact that the updates/quasi-sequels to early favorites such as Evangelion, and Top Wo Nerae! Gunbuster are essentially big buck cash-grabs, tugging at our collective nostalgia for the "glory" days of the once groundbreaking studio, I can't help but also enjoy the visceral rush coming from technical angles.

But thankfully where Rebuild 1.0 merely implies a deviation from the classically broken original narrative, the second film goes out of its way to do the unthinkable by fragging familiarity, offering a singularly ballsy new spin on the story's endgame. Not all is wunderbar of course, but it's certainly exciting to witness. Upon rewatching the film, I gained a little additional perspective, and respect for why the choices were made for this particular version.( I still stand by this being for far better reasons than merely those akin to a certain Mr. Lucas in dealing with an already culturally significant piece of pop mythology. Anno & Co. aren't out to debunk the notions expressed in the previous tv classic, but rather are working to compliment it in fun & strange ways) And as perhaps expected, I had much to share on the matter here (and with a possibly unpopular set of theories tacked onto it).

Only the adventurous need  click.

At Incredible Speed...

Was just reminded on Twitter (via the always reliable Tim Maughan) about this eyeball raping juggernaut, and just had to chime in on my love for the works of Takeshi Koike & Katsuhito Ishii. Fluid, colorful, and near PCP levels of full-motion anime-fu. Those unfamiliar with these names may remember them upon my mentioning of The Animatrix. World Record? Or how about the live action Shark Skin Man & Peach Hip Girl(1998)? Ring any bells now?

Oh yeah, this premiered last August at the Locarno International Film Festival and apparently rocked the house, so seriously...this is something worth looking forward to. And best of all... it's a complete original. Finally, a peek at something altogether new. So suit-up, and break out your best insane goggles because this looks like it's going to be a unique brain-buster of a ride.