(1987) Written and directed by Atsuko Fukushima and Katsuhiro
Ôtomo (“Coming Soon” and “See You Again”), Hiroyuki Kitakubo (“A Tale of Two
Robots”), Hiroyuki Kitazume (“Starlight Angel”), Kôji Morimoto (“Franken’s Gears”),
Takashi Nakamura (“Nightmare”), Yasuomi Umetsu (“Presence”), Mao Lamdo (aka: Manabu
Ôhashi) (“Cloud”), Hidetoshi Ômori (“Deprive”); Starring: Kôji Moritsugu, Yayoi
Maki, Keiko Hanagata; Available on DVD
Rating: ****
“You believe that you know your desires and dreams better
than anyone? Why shouldn’t I believe the same thing? You didn’t create yourself
any more than I did.” – The Girl (from the segment “Presence”)
After watching Akira,
My Neighbor Totoro and Robot Carnival in the early ‘90s, I was
never the same again. This trio of films re-defined my views of anime,
reinforcing the medium’s limitless potential as an art form. The marriage of
compelling themes, complex characters and dynamic artwork had no parallel with
animation from the States. The feeling that I was watching something familiar,
yet unfamiliar, has kept me coming back for more for the past 25 years. For
those unaccustomed to the odd, sometimes bewildering world of anime, I can’t
think of a better place to start, than with the aforementioned titles. Of the
three movies, Robot Carnival might be
the best “sampler” for the uninitiated, showcasing many of the good, bad and
questionable elements of Japanese animation.
Robot Carnival is
an omnibus of nine stories, reflecting wildly different animation styles and
themes. The introductory and end segments, “Coming Soon” and “See You Again,” co-directed
by Katsuhiro Ôtomo (Akira) and Atsuko
Fukushima, bracket the other stories. The film opens on an audacious note. The title,
envisioned as a mechanized juggernaut, flattens a village and leaves a wake of
destruction in its path. The end segment
picks up where the beginning left off, providing a fitting, nihilistic
conclusion to the proceedings.
Isaku Fujita, Joe Hisaishi (of Studio Ghibli fame) and Masahisa
Takeichi provide the memorable score. Mirroring the rest of the film, the score
is an eclectic mix of musical styles, incorporating ’80s synth with lush
symphonic sounds.
“Franken’s Gears,” directed by Kôji Morimoto, tells an
atmospheric, Frankenstein-esque tale about an elderly absent-minded inventor
who brings his gargantuan robot to life through electricity. As you can likely
ascertain by the title, things don’t end well for the creator or his creation. The
visual style presents a contrast between meticulously rendered scenes and intentionally
rough, unfinished-looking sequences.
The best segment, “Presence,” directed by Yasuomi Umetsu, is
set in a richly imagined steampunk universe and packs an emotional punch. The contemplative,
heartbreaking story concerns an inventor who creates a female android companion,
and becomes haunted by the ghost of regret. Umetsu prompts us to consider the
nature of what makes us or (by extension) our creations human, while compelling
us to reach our own conclusions. It’s heady stuff, which could easily have been
expanded into a distinct feature film. It’s almost unfortunate that “Presence”
is so good, because the other stories never quite reach the same level of
brilliance.
Another standout, “A Tale of Two Robots,” (aka: “Meiji-Era
Civilization Machine Saga”) is mostly played for laughs, with its lively
animation, amusing characters, and quaint technology. Meiji-era Japan provides
the backdrop for a clash between two enormous turn-of-the-century mechas. A brash,
maniacal American invader attempts to single-handedly conquer Japan with his mechanized
creation, but a ragtag bunch of villagers (and their giant robot) stand to
oppose his imperialistic ambitions. The story can be enjoyed on different
levels. At the surface, it’s a fun little romp. On another level it could be
seen as a metaphor for Japanese society’s struggle between isolation and
openness, or a culture clash between individualism and collectivism. Whichever
interpretation you choose to subscribe to, there’s something undeniably cathartic
about watching two giant robots beat the crap out of each other.
The penultimate story, “Nightmare” (aka: “Chicken Man and
Red Neck”) recalls the “Night on Bald Mountain” sequence in Fantasia. Instead of demons, a scourge
of robotic monstrosities terrorizes a modern metropolis. One timid citizen, who
bears more than a passing resemblance to Ichabod Crane in Disney’s The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad*,
makes a hasty retreat via scooter (instead of escaping on horseback).
* According to Anime News Network’s trivia page,
this was a deliberate choice.
On the negative side, a few segments never quite mesh. When
some people think of anime, the scenario in “Deprive” might be the first to
spring to mind, with its stereotypical super-powered cyborg hero who fights alien
oppressors. Another segment, “Starlight Angel,” tells a saccharine story of teen
love and angst, set in an amusement park that IN NO WAY RESEMBLES Disneyland.* While
this puff piece is far from essential viewing, fans of Akira (which appeared the following year) might want to watch for a
couple of blink-and-you-miss-it cameos of characters from that seminal film. One
near miss is “Cloud,” a bold piece by Mao Lamdo (aka: Manabu Ôhashi). It’s
lovely to look at, with its abstract depiction of a childlike robot undergoing
a Pinocchio-like transformation, but a bit dull.
* If you overlook the general park layout, castle in the
center, Space Mountain-like coaster, rocket ride… Okay, who am I fooling? I’m
sure the filmmakers just narrowly avoided a lawsuit.
While one film couldn’t possibly encompass the breadth and
diversity of anime, Robot Carnival is
a good start for those unfamiliar with the art form. Even if a few of the
segments miss their mark, open-minded film fans should find much to like in
this multi-faceted approach to old sci-fi tropes, which rewards on repeat
viewings. It’s an excellent overview of Japanese animation that connoisseurs
and novices (or anyone in between) can appreciate.
No comments:
Post a Comment