Tuesday, 29 June 2021

#191: Blue Remains (2001)

 


Directors: Hisaya Takabayashi and Toshifumi Takizawa

Screenplay: Hisaya Takebayashi, Masatoshi Kimura and Toshifumi Takizawa

Voice Cast: Kazue Fukiishi as Amamiku; Kazuya Ichijou as Reyju; Masane Tsukayama as Glptofane Sex; Hiroko Suzuki as Adenine Unum; Houchu Ohtsuka as Cytosine Tria; Junko Sakuma as Yuri; Kappei Yamaguchi as Mireo; Masashi Sugawara as Ryu; Norio Wakatsuki as Irigaru; Rica Matsumoto as Sari; Takehito Koyasu as Malloz; Tesshō Genda as Thymine Duo; Tomoko Kaneda as Amamiku (child); Yoshiko Sakakibara as Mayzamik

Viewed in Japanese with English Subtitles

 

Early into the DVD era in Britain, a now defunct label, Art Magic's sub label Eastern Cult Cinema, released three very early attempts at three dimensional animation, that wordiness aware that computers were assisting anime production from the late 90s onwards anyway. They were A.LI.C.E. (1999), the first theatrical film in this form, crude but fascinating as a forgotten historical footnote; Malice@Doll (2001), an OVA worthy for rediscovery as a dark work whose only real issue is its art style, even if the production worked around the restrictions; and Blue Remains, a post-apocalyptic nautical film with an environmental message.

Here, humanity has blown itself up with nuclear bombs, which has always been the way, all watched on from a spaceship helmed by a married pair of ecological scientists with their infant daughter Amamiku. Heading back down to Earth, tragically the couples' bodies are too irradiated to go through with their goal, to plant special seeds which can reawakening the ecosystem, so they place Amamiku in cryogenic sleep with them, and the ship's computer for comfort and guidance, to carry out the goal when they are gone. At the age of fourteen, but ninety plus years later, she has to carry on with the goal to help the Earth.

The film has, from then on, to struggle with the form of its then-new animation style. The film, when Amamiku wakes up, is effectively a sci-fi submarine tale, having to work around its limitations by being almost entirely set underwater or in small environments like submarine cockpits. Amamiku finds herself between those, human and otherwise, wishing to help her in restoring the Earth's vibrancy with the seeds, and an entity known as Glptofane Sex, who believes the absolute law of life should means killing off the rest of humanity to save the planet, against all the philosophical arguments and pleas of his lookalike brethren otherwise.

The film, openly, is a lot of action scenes, of Glptofane's forces of ball-like drones (with buzz saw tummies) and a giant biomechanical squid he is housed in, trying to get Amamiku and the few humans left asked to assist her goal. The film's look is equivalent of a Playstation One era cut scene for a lower budgeted game, but I will not be mean at the film for this, more that much of Blue Remains without the style of another animated format to bring a greater energy feels stiff as a result. That it is a lot of action and dynamic scenes instead of world building neither helps, especially because of the limits of the computer animation which prevent the action from being that dynamic, of 3D animated futuristic submarines floating in a void of dark blue with little background detail baring some ruined underwater buildings and an occasional aquatic life form.

The production does feel it is straining at a budget, where even the lead voice actress Kazue Fukiishi as Amamiku, in her only ever role, plays the character with a curious reflection in lines readings you normally do not get. If we go back to those three films mentioned in the first paragraph together, Malice@Doll out of the three was the most interesting of the trio; it is still strange, struggles against its form, especially as by that point Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within (2001) despite being a box office disaster effectively killed off these early productions at the same time, but it was able to get to something profound with being a surreal and disturbing work with a style and interesting Chiaki J. Konaka screenplay. Blue Remains in contrast is pretty conventional, not elaborate in terms of depth or ideas. Environmental concerns, and villains wanting to commit genocide for environmental preservation, is common in the medium, even if it is fascinating to see the villain's own argue against him and this tale being the lone figure that is misguided. Even that, whilst barely fleshed out, no one is safe barring a couple of figures from death is interesting too.

In fact, the one aspect of Blue Remains which is rewarding is the touches of eccentricity and invention it does have. The villain, and those trying to convince him against his idea, are literally brains with eyes and nervous systems attached, a grotesque aesthetic choice which stands out more because the film looks as crude as it does, fitting a more horror based narrative and the one aspect of this production likely to catch people's attention if you ever come across it (even an old DVD copy). More touches like this, like the submarines having fins to "swim" through layers of the water, or a dolphin which is actually meant to be a robot, are more interesting aspects that could have been ran with. When the film gets more New Age in tone, it is more worthwhile as it comes more to the foreground with the supernatural involved with those seeds Amamiku protects. It is not a spoiler to say a giant life giving tree, with human foetuses growing from it for new life, is part of the conclusion, because that in itself is an abrupt tangent for the film to get to considering its average tone. The end credits, set over real footage of the barrier reefs, is a cheesy and heavy handed environmental song about the life force of the sea and needing to protect it, whose earnestness is misguided but in itself cannot help but be charming. More like this, and Blue Remains would have won me over. Even if it fought against its archaic format, a more overtly surreal or inventive aesthetic, like an old weird video game from this era, would have gained it a cult audience if anything.

Wednesday, 23 June 2021

#190: Cat Shit One (2010)

 


Director: Kazuya Sasahara

Screenplay: Kazuya Sasahara and Hiroshi Sekisakai

Based on the manga by Motofumi Kobayashi

Voice Cast: Hiroshi Tsuchida as Packy; Satoshi Hino as Botasky; Masashi Nitta as Bowen; Sawaki Akimoto as CP; Kenta Sakai as Militia; Yuki Hirako as Militia

Viewed on Japanese with English Subtitles

 

Subtitled "The Animated Series", this original net animation was meant to go on to have a full season of storytelling based on the Motofumi Kobayashi manga of the same name1, more politely titled in the West Apocalypse Meow by ADV Vision's manga arm, ADV Manga, for release for the United States and United Kingdom. That was not a pointless change either, as the original manga was set during the Vietnam War and progressed on into the eighties for a later follow-up. Here, you have a story set within the Middle East during a conflict you could easily pluck from real life politics, be it the first or the second Gulf War. The weird thing is that, entirely grounded as a war narrative, these tales are told through anthropomorphic animals, the lead Packy both a sergeant in the manga but also a bunny rabbit.

Only a regular anime episode length, Cat Shit One is deceptively a strange title to witness, as in another context, it acts and feels like it could have been a live action American actor film, say Lone Soldier (2013) by Peter Berg with Mark Wahlberg for one I saw in the cinema in the past, only you have cast the leads with rabbits. Very un-politically correct, this has Arab Taliban cast with anthropomorphic camels, and they are explicitly Taliban in their costumes, and that with their dialogue not in Japanese or subtitles I swear to have least heard Allah a couple of times. The episode follows two members of Cat Shit One, set within this more modern day scenario in a ruined town in the middle of the desert, after two hostages ("canaries") captured by the Taliban. There is Packy, the cooler and more collected veteran and Botasky, the more nervous sniper who is criticised for having too many gizmos on his rifle, which make it heavier to carry, until it proves useful against blocking blades. They have no backup until they can get the hostages to safety and have to go into the enemy territory by themselves.

One thing clear with the episode as well is that this is a "military otaku" show in form, in that Cat Shit One was made to be a realistic war narrative and that, in the variety of nerd culture in Japan, otaku for military aesthetic and hardware exist to, in knowledge and obsession, so that I would not be surprised if the firearms and military vehicles you witness in this short action piece were accurate. This is all in mind you are watching, in three dimensional animation, cute rabbits in military fatigues with guns shooting at camels stood on hind legs with their costumes cut out in the back for their humps and with hands, with is surreal to witness.

Using the unnatural as metaphor is interesting as a concept. Retelling a narrative with anthropomorphic animals adds surreality but also a lot of great potential, including the metaphors between human and animal which it could offer. Art Spiegelman took a huge risk with Maus (1980-1991), his graphic novel telling his father's experience as a Jew during the Holocaust, by having the Jews depicted as mice and the Nazis as cats among choices, something we could forget when Maus proved a masterpiece of the medium, and that we do not consider the artistic choice a risk anymore that could have been tasteless and gauche. In a less serious contact, the choice of rabbits for American G.I.s is actually a pun, as the Japanese for rabbit is "usagi", a.k.a. USA G.I. being literalised. Cat Shit One might have skirted risks by having the Vietnamese as cats, but reading up on it they went as far as depict every country with the source material by various animals, including the Japanese themselves as monkeys and other choices which deliberately evoke stereotypes whether a wise decision or not. In Cat Shit One '80, the follow up which dealt with U.S. operations in Afghanistan against the Soviet Unions, the Middle Eastern characters are depicted not just with camels but cows and sheep, which could be considered offensive still but is in the same boat as the French in the manga being depicted as pigs, the British as rats or Russia as bears. The ONA is strange in that, looking closer to the first or second Gulf War in form, it does deviate from the sources considerably as the original cast, in the source, would be significantly older veterans by the early nineties or old rabbits by the 2000s.

Due to the little here, it is difficult anyway to speculate where this show would go as a pilot for a programme that never became. It feels like an action reel, even if a narrative is here, an eye catching attempt to win over potential investors as this was originally released on YouTube. It is fascinating as an oddity, especially as in terms of an ONA which uses 3D computer animation, I have seen considerably worse and this case being much more ambitious in look. It even involved motion capture actors, which adds a considerably weirder edge knowing an actor performing the motions of a military soldier would eventually be animated as a big fluffy bunny with big eyes, still moving with the worth of a soldier, and getting head shots on Taliban members. Thinking about this, an actor in a form that for many in another context is cuddly which is waddling along the Middle Eastern desert being shot at, is perversely funny the longer I think about it.

The source material fascinates reading more of it for this review's context, because whilst the use of stereotypes in casting nationalities per species may have been questionable, it does feel like Motofumi Kobayashi's source text is much more serious at least in that it has the cast interact with real figures of the wars being dealt with, in animalised form, and that it does not sanitise the conflicts at all even if it had action scenes like a Western military action comic book. The author Kobayashi is absolutely someone who deals with the subject of war, whether biographical or alternative history, with a complete fascination likely matched by extensive amounts of research, between this alongside the likes of tackling Operation Barbarossa (the Nazi invasion of Soviet Russia in 1941) in a 2001 manga or another title called Vietnam War (1999), a non- anthropomorphic telling of the story of that war.

Cat Shit One the animated product is curious. Director and co-writer Kazuya Sasahara helmed one other work after this, and honestly, I could not see Cat Shit One the show going on well even if it had gotten the series the project had intended to have. For starters, it may have eventually proved problematic tackling the Gulf War as it did, or in how, that would eventually make the show difficult to sell. Even fans of the source material may have had issues, as this adapts neither the source material nor the sequel, which took on earlier military history that eventually led to the likes of the Taliban in the Middle East. Whilst the source may have had action for the sake of action, the references to the likes of how the Gulf Wars have been depicted in Hollywood films I have seen is as much something this pilot was aiming to replicate, including short implements of slow motion for visceral effect, which honestly including the tone, mostly deathly serious, might have not sold well. I also see, whether a viewer's individual opinion of the animation, that unless you had a film or a huge budgeted show, you could not keep up the quality and use of motion capture acting to a steady form unless you were lucky or with skill in management, as television schedules would cause a show like this to possibly look dreadful or cheap as it chugged along.

As a one-off, it is in many ways the type of spectacle being pulled off that would appeal to others but I find dull, and honestly not the kind of thing normally found in anime. With the prolific voice actor Hiroshi Tsuchida in the lead, very much playing his character Packy as a tough veteran who can with one other person take on an entire group of Taliban by himself least for a while, it is well executed but paradoxically the kind of title that, were it not depicted with rabbits, feels university in appeal as a war action story, but does not stick out. Time has made this an obscurity for a television series that never came to be, too short and probably obscure despite that ADV Manga's release. Again, it is a subtly bizarre production just for one creative choice that makes it weird. And knowing this was not the first for this - Penguin’s Memory: A Tale of Happiness (1985), a very serious Vietnam War tale only with anthropomorphic penguins, as a feature length anime based on mascots for Suntory, a major alcoholic beer producer in Japan known for being involved with a lot of art to promote their work - just makes this an even weirder thing to consider.

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1) Twelve to be precise as is detailed HERE.

Friday, 18 June 2021

#189: Revue Starlight (2018)

 


Director: Tomohiro Furukawa

Screenplay: Tatsuto Higuchi

Voice Cast: Momoyo Koyama as Karen Aijō; Suzuko Mimori as Hikari Kagura; Aina Aiba as Claudine Saijō; Ayasa Itō as Kaoruko Hanayagi; Haruki Iwata as Mahiru Tsuyuzaki; Hinata Satō as Junna Hoshimi; Kenjiro Tsuda as the Giraffe; Maho Tomita as Maya Tendō; Moeka Koizumi as Nana Daiba; Teru Ikuta as Futaba Isurugi

Viewed in Japanese with English Subtitles

 

[Some Overt Spoilers Throughout]

Probably the most surprising thing coming into reviewing Revue Starlight the animated series, twelve episodes long, is that this all originates from a significantly larger media project including a stage play, one which has spiralled out into an elaborate franchise which includes additional animated films, video games and a manga. This is surprising as, delightfully, this is a case of a franchise which feels very idiosyncratic and uniquely personal into itself, at least allowing this television series to grow out with its own creativity. Certainly as I will get into this series, knowing it has follow-on work, including an extended world of other schools beyond the one we have here as the main setting, it really comes to a testament of how this series, whilst very indebted to one figure I will refer to a lot throughout, works completely as its own one-off. A distinct, potent one in terms of its artistic style and using it for emotional drama that feels not like it is part of a media product to sell to an audience at all but with themes it wants to tell to said audience.

To sell the show, this exists in the world of Seisho Music Academy, a school for theatrical performers who are all trained in dance and acting amongst many skills. The 99th class here the central characters working towards another performance of the titular Revue Starlight, a play about two goddesses who are separated in a metaphorical tragedy trying to touch a star. The lead among them is Karen Aijō, a girl who coasts on by only to be given a new passion in her class when her childhood friend Hikari Kagura transfers from an academy in London in England, their childhood promise having been to perform together as great stars in such shows Revue Starlight. The show borders magical realism and surrealism as a metaphor for their emotional states, following seven other main characters involved, because of a lift in their school that transfers students to an underground environment. This is where a secret audition transpires to find the true actress among them dubbed the "Top Star". These are done in duels, musical duels with singing, where the target with your weapon of choice is to remove a badge hanging a cape off the opponent's shoulder with whichever choice of weapon you want.  

Notably, everyone one of the lead characters is female, as Seisho Music Academy is an all-girls school. The only male voice in the entirety of this show is the mysterious figure presiding over the auditions. Said figure is a cosmic talking giraffe, which may give you further emphasis that the show embraces the surreal. It is not a surprise, and is a delight, to know that lead director of the series Tomohiro Furukawa worked extensively with Kunihiko Ikuhara, the figure legendary for helming the likes of Revolutionary Girl Utena (1997) and projects Furukawa worked on like Mawaru Penguindrum (2011). I will say ahead of time, I had immediately seen that Ikuhara's influence was throughout this show aesthetically, including having an idiosyncratic animal mascot in the giraffe, so learning of the direct connection means a greater deal. It says a great deal that Furukawa actually worked with the legend and used the influence to their advantage. This is not a detraction as, for a media franchise which involves mobile phone game tie-ins, letting the director take this show into its pop surreal emotionally charged form was among the best things in Revue Starlight's favour, especially as from the get-go, this program looks and sounds exceptional, in style and music, and the aesthetic influence is for its plot's favour as well as distinct.

Particularly as this is a show about the drama, the audition duels themselves extensions of the cast's various anxieties and concerns not only in their desire to become great actresses, or even when they lose their passions, but also emotionally beyond the stage. This show does not flinch in either depicting the stress of thinking you are not good enough in your work, trying to overcome feelings of weakness. It deals with the closeness of these characters in friendship and when stress frays it. It also has no qualms in subtext and overt nods to romantic chemistry amongst the all-female cast either, even dealing with an episode entirely about Karen's roommate and fellow student Mahiru, who is explicitly with romantic longings for her only to now play second fiddle behind a childhood friend, or how sleepy headed Kaoruko and tomboy Futaba's relationship is insanely close even if merely perceived subtext from a viewer to have, riding on the latter's motorbike with Kaoruko falling asleep in motion, clearly have a chemistry beyond a friendship.

As the characters' dramas are the main core of the show, naturally with everyone getting an episode in the centre of their goals in the duels, thankfully everyone is fleshed out. Everyone is three dimensional. The best in their class, Maya and Claudine, who have a rivalry with Claudine feeling always second, are not just villains. Even curveballs are thrown in as, with spoilers warned ahead in this review, the character I immediately attached too Nana Daiba, dubbed Bannana-Chan for her fruit obsession and banana bunch hairdo, even got something out-of-the-blue and abruptly dark. That being briefly turned into a tragic villain for her episode when you realise a groundhog effect can transpire with the auditions, able to wish for anything including repeating the same year if you become Top Star, more tragic as Nana never after that is just a villain. Some anime, whilst still compelling, would have had the lovable comedic character stay the abrupt villian only, winning the auditions to keep time still, but it is a testament to Revue Starlight's craft that by the end of the series, she is just someone in fear of the future and, as another character later puts it, is a big (taller than the others) person who is yet secretly vulnerable. For a show that was clearly, with research, put of a media franchise to promote, it says something about anime in general that one series adaptation, where allowed to, can take risks and feel more personal, even the lovable comedic character based on banana puns suddenly turning into complex figures. It became a show where everyone is as sympathetic as everyone else, where abruptly it will quote Hermann Hesse, the author of Steppenwolf, within the same show that has the aforementioned talking giraffe.

Even the giraffe eventually, after coming off as a master manipulator, as the auditions have losers robbed of their "spark" of performance, gets a happy conclusion where he sees a performance that raptures him. This, to use polite language, is a show which does not kid around with pushing its emotional edge as far as it can do with the aesthetic, but all for something ultimately heart warming. Even when entirely grounded for an episode, such as Karen and Hikari reconnecting after a series of jaunts across the aquariums across the city, the drama is that to care for. When an abrupt betrayal in the final episodes feels abrupt but with meaning, with greater shock as the show to the viewer as much for a character suddenly feel a knife in the heart, but it all builds within very little time for something meaningful for the final episode. That, especially as it leads to the last episode fully in the supernatural, it leads to a strange personal purgatory of building stars out of sand to reach stars on wrecking ball chains that knock you over again, a Myth of Sisyphus scenario based on one figure not wishing to take the shine off others, or metaphorically as not wishing to take away from another and hurting them by outperforming them.

The show is not as idiosyncratic as Ikuhara's work, feeling in truth a more accessible form of his storytelling, but that again is not a bad thing, and a lot of its content for others would still be out there to be blunt about it. Key aesthetic traits from Ikuhara's work to tell stories, including repetition of symbols and literalisation of meanings, are used to a huge advantage to flesh out the cast and, ultimately, making it a success alongside the production quality. It looks exceptional, and as a show which is as much about its style, it looks distinct right down to individual end credits per episode and the character being its centre. For a show as well where the audition fights have musical numbers, based likely as much from Takarazuka Revue, an all-female Japanese musical theatrical troupe that started in the 1910s, the musical numbers sung by the cast within them are as well diverse and as good, all obviously with lyrics fitting the material of the emotional drama. That the show itself as a much a critique of ideas of such groups, the pressures of such a prestige training and wanting to be the best, intertwines with the spark of energy from such groups' influences too.  

To tell more would spoil the show when it is more intriguing to know that the series has more narrative in its whole, beyond these twelve episodes. Mentioned already, Revue Starlight the series is a fully fleshed out show in itself. It completely captivated me throughout its length, and with knowing little beforehand, it was a pleasure to have encountered.