From Up On Poppy Hill

コクリコ坂から Goro Miyazaki, 2011
Reel Anime 1/4
 

Madman's ReelAnime 2012 has kicked off around Australia, showcasing four new anime films direct from Japan. ReelAnime doesn't happen every year, I think the last time was 2010, so when it comes around it's pretty exciting, especially with a line up that looks as good as this year's. The two standout films are most definitely going to be the new Studio Ghibli film From Up On Poppy Hill directed by Goro Miyazaki, and Wolf Children, the new work by Mamoru Hosoda, a director whose work has succeeded in surpassing anything Ghibli has done since Howl's Moving Caslte. My guess is that From Up On Poppy Hill will remain the major audience draw-card however, simply for the fact that it is a Studio Ghibli Film. This hypothesis was proven last night when I saw it at Cinema Nova, where the theatre was almost completely full with both adults and children.

This film had a bit riding on it for me. There are two reasons for this: One, the last Ghibli movie Arriety was not amazing. It was nice, but quite underwhelming. Two, the last Goro Miyazaki film Tales From Earthsea, which was also his directorial debut, is almost universally considered to be the worst Ghibli movie yet made. I didn't think it was an absolute failure, but like Arriety, there was just a huge lack of Ghibli magic. It must be difficult for Goro being the son of one the greatest directors of all time, animation or otherwise, Hayao Miyazaki. It's an enormous shadow to live in, but the good news is that From Up On Poppy Hill is a fairly good sign that Goro is finding his way as a director, and also that Studio Ghibli is still an important force in the animation world.

The film is set in Yokohama 1963. The 60s was a period of rapid economic development for Japan, but also one of great change and confusion following war and American occupation. The film captures this quite perfectly in that there are many instances where the film doesn't feel very Japanese at all. The presence of Coca-Cola and television, along with characters breaking from traditional roles (one is a painter, one travels abroad for study) serve to create a Japan at a crossroads. A time and place that I'm sure carries a great nostalgic power for Japanese people, one only has to look at the enormous success of the sickly sweet Always films, but for me, this was a place that seemed to exist outside of time or place, and all the more so because it was animated. I think this is what makes for the most successful aspect of Poppy Hill. 

Ghibli has produced a few coming of age stories set in modern day Japan, Whisper of The Heart and Only Yesterday, and Poppy Hill sticks to this pretty familiar formula, probably a bit too closely, actually. Umi is a teenage girl who lives in a boarding house on a hill with a bunch of women from all walks of life. Despite her age and school commitments, Umi looks cooks and cleans for all the residents and just generally runs the house, which is owned by her grandmother Keiko. At school, Umi becomes friends with a boy named Shun, who, along with his friends, are protesting the destruction of their style clubhouse. And so begins a story of young love and student politics. Unfortunately, the film is never surprising. We know how it will end and how the obstacles will be overcome, which is a shame, because the film's main plot twist deals with unexpectedly mature issues that are quite interesting given the historical context, but are hastily resolved without issue by the film's end.

Like most Japanese films set in the post-war era, Poppy Hill addresses the "Out with the old, in with the new" dictum that so propelled Japan into the modern era, and It's great to see this from a teenage student point of view. Teenagers don't know who they are or what they want to be as is, but throw them into a social environment still reeling from the effects of war while simultaneously hurtling into the future, the results are quite moving and sometimes hilarious. The school clubhouse stands as a strong if somewhat clichéd metaphor for the loss of history/tradition, but it's design is classic Ghibli. A dark, dusty building full of old junk, that is inhabited by exuberant youths with dreams of changing the world. Throughout the film, the students express a reverence for tradition and integrity that belies their age, while also keeping their sights fixed firmly on the future. In one small scene, the only two remaining members of the Archaeology club are driven to go out and recruit new members rather than sit around contemplating the loss of their clubhouse, exclaiming that they owe it to those who came before them. It seems that Goro shares his father's oft-included themes of loss of culture and also his penchant for female leads. The Kokuriko boarding house is occupied solely by modern young females, while Keiko, the lady of the house, is a kimono-clad symbol of an old Japan quickly fading.

The film's soundtrack was the thing I had the most issues with. Poppy Hill boasts an incredibly jumbled array of poorly executed musical styles, many of which are mismatched to the onscreen visuals. It ranges from plaintive piano music (a mainstay of Studio Ghibli and always done infinitely better by regular collaborator Joe Hisaishi) to Go-go style organ grooves to playful horn-driven jazz which accompanies the cleaning of the clubhouse, one of the rare moments that worked. Ghibli films usually include one or two beautiful vocal pieces that are inserted effortlessly into the film, often over the opening or closing credits, but Poppy Hill's vocal pieces felt quite underdone. Much more successful is the inclusion of the students singing what I'm guessing are nationalistic/school songs acapella to raise morale, and Kyu Sakamoto's pop song 上を向いて歩こう (I Shall Walk Looking Up) which is known in the west as "Sukiyaki" thanks to what was probably an unbelievably lazy/ignorant translation. This hugely popular song was released in the year the film is set, and adds the kind of era-specific detail the soundtrack seemed to be attempting to recreate, but ultimately failed at with its soulless rehashing of 60s music styles. The scenes in which "Sukiyaki" is included are the scenes which really soar, conveying the kind of magic Ghibli has become famous for. Unfortunately, Goro is not able to sustain this magic for the whole film in the way Spirited Away or Howl's Moving Castle do, but the mere fact that there is glimpses of it is enough to make me hopeful for his future works.

I had reasonably low expectations for Poppy Hill, and was pleasantly surprised. The story isn't anything amazingly original, and you can see the ending coming a mile off, but it is quite heartfelt. It doesn't approach anything daddy Miyazaki has done, apart from the visuals, which are absolutely beautiful, but that is something for which Ghibli can always be relied on. All in all, it is a good addition to the less fantasy oriented titles in the Ghibli library, and while he still has some way to go, it is a solid new effort from Goro Miyazaki.

Pom Poko

平成狸合戦ぽんぽこ Isao Takahata, 1994

As I have touched on previously, the famous works of Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli seem to go hand in hand, to the point where they are almost synonymous. However, the lesser known director Isao Takahata is something of a best kept secret of Ghibli, quietly creating films that are often released without the kind of fanfare Miyazaki’s films recieve. Takahata’s most well known and acclaimed work, the harrowing war story Grave Of The Fireflies has drawn much praise from critics including Roger Ebert, however it is the film Pom Poko, which even know remains something of an oddity in the Ghibli catalogue, especially outside of Japan, which I think is his best work and perhaps even my favourite Ghibli film.

The Tanuki is a type of raccoon native to Japan, which according to Japanese folklore, are playful creatures that have the power to shape-shift. The film focuses on a forest of Tanuki who have long since abandoned their shape-shifting ways, as they never really had any use for them. But the bubble economy of the early 90s changes all that, and soon they find their woods being destroyed by human developers to create a Tokyo housing area of unprecedented scale, New Tama Town. And so begins the Tanukis’ re-learning of shape-shifting, as taught by their forest’s elders; Preparation for the imminent showdown between man and beast. The film’s simple storyline is established within about the first ten minutes of the film, Takahata wastes no time, employing a narrator and a host of colourful Tanuki personalities to propel the film along at a swift, at times dizzying pace. Some Tanuki want to attack the humans directly, while others want to hone their skills from legendary elders of other regions of Japan. Either way, we are soon presented with hilarious scenes of shape-shifting training, and an explanation of what will soon become a running gag throughout the film, the importance and many uses of the Tanuki’s testicles. 

Takahata uses this folkloric element to its absolute fullest potential, drawing on Japanese tradition and superstition to create a work that is very Japanese. Takahata is able to play by his own rules as he crafts this meeting of mythology and contemporary society, explaining away minor details such as the Tanukis’ use of energy drinks to keep up their human shape-shifting act. The Tanuki’s attacks on the humans are also a display of mind boggling creativity. In one scene, the Tanuki stand on each others shoulders and shape-shift into a tree that falls on the road, causing a truck to veer off a cliff. Over time, they begin to exploit the Japanese superstitions and catalogue of folkloric ghosts, which eventually culminates in their final attempt, “Operation Goblin” an otherworldly tour de force of apparitions, dragons and ghouls (Keep an eye out for the Totoro cameo) parading through the centre of town. Most people I know that have seen this film respond with a “That movie is so weird” or “I just didn’t get it”, most likely due to this huge amount of content that non-Japanese simply won’t understand. I can’t really comment objectively, as I never saw this film completely unaware of Japanese culture, and while I understood a lot of the references in the film, most of them are either explained or made obvious through characters responses in the film. Having some knowledge of Japanese culture may make it slightly more enjoyable or funny, but I really don’t think it’s necessary in order to enjoy this outrageous adventure. Think of it as The Animals of Farthing Wood, just with a smaller variety of animals, more shape-shifting and completely crazy humour.

Some of the more militant Tanuki bashing cops with their balls

Aside from the story, the film is a veritable free for all in terms of visual techniques. What quickly becomes apparent is Takahata’s visualisation of the Tanuki themselves, as he draws them in three distinct styles: A realistic on all fours style, an anthropomorphic cartoon style, and a super stylised comic strip style. Each visual is used in different situations to highlight different feelings, perceptions and interactions between characters. When the Tanuki borrow an old TV out of the trash, the cooking show they are watching appears briefly as live action, a short and jarring, but nonetheless brilliant inclusion. Takahata creates a perfect balance of realism and nature; the forest, the development site and the town, and the surreal; Buddha watching over the forest, construction diggers eating a leaf like insects and even a short 8-bit style section. Music also plays a major role in the film, with its opening moments greeting us with what I’m guessing is a traditional children’s song about Tanuki. Throughout the rest of the film, the Tanuki also sing a range of cute songs. Sometimes for rousing morale or in celebration, sometimes just to pass the time while bouncing a ball with a friend.

While the film is largely a comedy, Takahata’s environmental concerns really come to the fore towards the end. As the Tanuki realise they are no match for the humans, they make a reluctant appeal on a television program. This is one of the films most beaufitul scenes, as fireflies light up the night sky and the Tanuki’s sadness in the face of defeat is strangely human. Takahata succeeds with flying colours in making us side with the animals and seeing the humans as the antagonists. Of course, Miyazaki shares this same environmental yearning, but has yet to convey it in such a comical, off the wall way as Takahata does here. The film is just under two hours long, but it flies by perfectly paced, with its combination of humour and seriousness resulting in there never being a dull moment. This is the wild card of Studio Ghibli, the curveball, a uniquely Japanese breath of fresh air for animation and storytelling in general, and the perfect film to counter some of Ghibli’s more mature or heavy handed works.

The Castle of Cagliostro

ルパン三世 カリオストロの城 Hayao Miyazaki, (1979) 

The films of Studio Ghibli, particularly those of director Hayao Miyazaki are renowned throughout the world, and have a strong following in Australia. More recent Miyazaki films such as Spirited Away and Ponyo have many fans and it is quite rare to find someone who hasn’t at least heard of these modern masterpieces of animation. In my opinion, Miyazaki is the greatest living storyteller in the world today. For me, his films are a never-ending fountain of creativity and inspiration. For this entry, I decided to look at one of my favourite Miyazaki works (it seems all my favourites are linked by one major element: Castles) Lupin the Third: The Castle of Cagliostro, which also happens to be one of his earliest works and due to its being made prior to the founding of Studio Ghibli in 1985, is much lesser known in Australia, with more popular Ghibli films eclipsing it.

Miyazaki has proved himself as a master of not only creating his own filmic worlds, but also at adapting the stories of others, often of non-Japanese origin. The Castle of Calgiostro’s hero, Lupin, is based on a character originally created by French author Maurice LeBlanc as a sort of French Sherlock Holmes in 1905. In the late 60s, a descendant of Lupin (the 3^rd to be exact) was created by Kazuhiko Kato (pen name; Monkey Punch) as a Manga series, which was then followed by anime, video games and films. So, after all this convoluted history, we arrive with Miyazaki taking the helm of the Lupin the 3^rd franchise for its second filmic interpretation in 1979.

The film begins with Lupin and his long-time partner in crime Jigen making their getaway from a casino they have just robbed. From the get go, Miyazaki sets the tone of his film as a freewheeling adventure, with the film’s animated nature essential to its spectacle and escapism. Lupin and Jigen leap with superhuman ease across obstacles, cars are sliced in half and a sea of money cascades from their getaway car as they drive away. As they realise that the stolen money is counterfeit, Lupin decides to set out to crack the international conspiracy of this “Goat Money”. They travel to the independent nation of Cagliostro, where they discover a plot involving an Evil Count, a damsel in distress and a search for lost treasure. This simple adventure story is balanced with action and its tongue in cheek, slapstick humour perfectly, never taking itself too seriously. The characters, Lupin in particular, seem to know they are in an animation devised purely for entertainment, and have no problems defying gravity by driving cars up the side of cliffs or clearing impossible distances across castle turrets in a single jump. Even everyday actions like eating spaghetti or swimming are brilliantly stylised, with the colourful cast of characters an absolute treat to watch. Lone samurai Goemon and fellow burgular Fujiko make appearances, who along with Lupin’s long-time pursuer (and long suffering) Inspector Zenigata, complete the classic Lupin gang.

The film is not all rollicking action and fantasy plot though. Despite it being Miyazaki’s directorial debut, there are many instances in the film in which bear his own distinctive visual and thematic stamp. Frantic action sequences are countered with lingering shots of the beautiful surrounding landscape, and sequences in which the characters explore or more simply, are present within these spaces. The nation of Cagliostro itself is a beautiful, fictional place, drawing on Miyazaki’s European influences. We see small villages, farming lifestyles, moss covered ruins and of course the titular castle, complete with dungeons and aqueduct. This kind of European romanticism would return in later works such as Kiki’s Delivery Service, Porco Rosso and Howl’s Moving Caslte.

I love this film because it fully embraces its cartoon-ness. For me, it’s a bit of a cross between Inspector Gadget and Indiana Jones. Classic cartoon tropes abound, with hokey disguises being used on not one but three separate occasions and also the kind of self awareness that make cartoons so much fun. After a stealthy midnight attempt on their lives by a band of the Count’s armoured minions, Jigen observes what the audience is thinking; “Things are getting interesting!!” Miyazaki is in full adventure mode, and this film rates amongst his best work, even when compared with more successful Studio Ghibli works. The story is brilliantly simple, and even though they are not his own, the characters just exude cool, like a band of jazz musicians each playing their own unique part as they roll through this wonderfully entertaining riff of a film.