Tag: Toho

Review: Godzilla Minus One

Godzilla is pretty big right now. Not just physically, although the iconic kaiju has grown significantly over the decades. Yet with a massive Hollywood franchise, an anime film series and several Japanese films all running simultaneously, it’s safe to say that the big lug is still stomping all over our hearts almost 70 years after he was first introduced to audiences.

So, writer/director Takeshi Yamazaki’s GODZILLA MINUS ONE (ゴジラ-1.0) is something of a revelation. Starting during the closing days of the Second World War, we are introduced to Godzilla through the eyes of kamikaze pilot Kōichi Shikishima (Ryunosuke Kamiki). Having faked plane issues, he and the repair crew encounter a younger Godzilla on Odo Island. Shikishima has the opportunity to shoot the beast, but freezes at the fateful moment.

Several years later, Shikishima lives with Noriko Ōishi (Minami Hamabe) and an adopted child orphaned during the war. As a devastated Tokyo tries to rebuild, the sudden appearance of the giant Godzilla – enlarged by the US nuclear tests at Bikini Atoll – reawakens Shikishima’s survivor guilt.

Indeed, it’s this theme of guilt and trauma that pervades Yamazaki’s film more than anything else. The later period of Tokyo’s rebirth has long fascinated Yamazaki in the Always Sunset on Third Street series, but like In This Corner of the World or Grave of the Fireflies, here is a film that shows the raw devastation of Japan immediately after the war. (In this sense, it’s an interesting parallel with this year’s Oppenheimer).

Yamazaki embodies this theme in Shikishima and the cross-sectional band of scrappy chaps surrounding him: the intellectual, the working class survivor and a young man who never got to fight in the war. The ultimate thesis – that it’s ok if you don’t feel the need to die for your country – has no chance of getting lost in the action. It looms as large as Godzilla on the Ginza skyline.

Like the original Godzilla (1954), the film acknowledges the impact of the nuclear bombs dropped on Japan, but manages to comment on contemporary Japan as well. With another narrative thread endorsing citizen action when governments fail, it’s probably no stretch to suggest that this – like Hideaki Anno’s Shin Godzilla (2016) before it – is just as much a response to the 2011 tsunami and Fukushima nuclear accident as it is to Hiroshima/Nagasaki. Yamazaki isn’t afraid to linger on the quiet revelations, mirroring the introspective drama of postwar Japanese cinema.

Yet this is still a kaiju movie, and those looking for large scale destruction won’t be disappointed either. Every cent of the modest $15 million budget is present on screen, and is infinitely more effective than some recent films that cost ten times that. From the moment Godzilla appears on screen, it is a tangible entity acting with a lightning fast savagery hitherto unseen from the creature.

As Godzilla grows in size, so too does the scale of the action. At full strength, Godzilla is capable of reducing a city to rubble with a single blast. Naoki Satō’s score, often drawing from earlier iconic soundtracks, is used like a scalpel to draw in the audience. By the time we reach the heart-stopping climax, only the hardest of hearts won’t be invested in the drama.

While there will always be fierce debate as to which is the greatest Godzilla film of them all, GODZILLA MINUS ONE makes a pretty good case for being somewhere on the podium. As the US counterpart preps another monster mashup for Godzilla’s 70th anniversary in 2024, here’s a film that reminds us of the power of Godzilla’s streamlined roots.

2023 | Japan | DIRECTOR: Takashi Yamazaki | WRITERS: Takashi Yamazaki | CAST: Ryunosuke Kamiki, Minami Hamabe, Yuki Yamada, Munetaka Aoki, Hidetaka Yoshioka, Sakura Ando, Kuranosuke Sasaki | DISTRIBUTOR: Toho (Japan), Sugoi Co. (Australia)| RUNNING TIME: 125 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 1 December 2023 (Australia), 3 November 2023 (Japan)

December 6, 2023
Review: Belle

When The Matrix Resurrections was released in cinemas late last year, movie audiences were reminded that we have been partly plugged into virtual worlds for decades. Yet that mirror universe has always forced us to lead at least two lives. The duality of this existence is something filmmaker Mamoru Hosoda knows so well, with his body of work often exploring the lines between this world and something ‘other.’ Hosoda continues his thematic journey, linking early Digimon — and especially Summer Wars — with this modern fable.

A loose adaptation of Beauty and the Beast, it follows Suzu (voiced by singer Kaho Nakamura), an alienated high school student left unable to sing due to a major childhood trauma. In the virtual world known as ‘U’, Suzu creates a persona she names ‘Bell’ who can sing like Suzu used to. Her popularity rises, and the community names her “Belle” due to her beauty. Yet an avatar known as Dragon begins to sabotage her, so Suzu and her new community of IRL friends begins to investigate who he might be.

BELLE (竜とそばかすの姫) is one of those delightful films that as soon as you think you’ve got it figured out, it pulls the rug out from under you. Just like Hosoda’s earlier film The Boy and the Beast, the high-concept is a vehicle for something more personal. Where that film alluded to Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Book, here Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont’s 16th century fairy tale is the backdrop for exploring self-image and personal worth in the digital age. Indeed, the literal translation of the Japanese title is ‘The Dragon and the Freckled Princess.’

There’s the typical Japanese high school stuff here, of course, but Hosoda transcends all that by lifting up the curtain for a moment. U might be a fictional world where the characters show each other a kind of facade, but we viewers do that every day through everything from our clothes to our social media profiles. As the film unfolds, themes of abandonment and bullying become part of the landscape. There’s a handful of absolutely heartbreaking scenes in the film’s climax — when the identity of the Dragon is at last discovered — and few dry eyes will be left in the house.

With the assistance of veteran Disney animators and character designers Jin Kim (Hercules through Raya and the Last Dragon) and Michael Camacho (Summer Camp Island) on the character design of Belle — not to mention studio Cartoon Saloon contributing to the background work of the world of U — this is also one of Studio Chizu’s most visually stunning animated films to date. The stylised settings push the boundaries of the animated canvas: the spread of gossip is rendered like a strategy game, for example.

For the longest time, Hosoda was dubbed a successor to the Studio Ghibli legacy. Yet with BELLE it is entirely clear that he is well beyond such reductive labels. The hyperbole belongs entire to Hosoda and his Studio Chizu team. Already a massive hit in its native Japan, do not miss your chance to see one of the best animated films of recent memory.

2021 | Japan | DIRECTOR: Mamoru Hosoda | WRITERS: Mamoru Hosoda | CAST: Kaho Nakamura, Ryō Narita, Shōta Sometani, Tina Tamashiro, Lilas Ikuta, Kōji Yakusho, Takeru Satoh | DISTRIBUTOR: Toho (JPN), GKids (US), Kismet (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 125 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 16 July 2021 (JPN), 14 January 2022 (US), 20 January 2022 (AUS)

January 15, 2022
Review: The Great Yokai War – Guardians

There’s a lot of things your can say about Takashi Miike, but resting on his laurels is not one of them. Now well over 100 films into his filmography, he’s covered everything from the violet and bizarre to samurai epics and comedy. With THE GREAT YOKAI WAR: GUARDIANS (妖怪大戦争ガーディアンズ), he not only returns to kid friendly fare but a story he left dangling 16 years ago.

Ostensibly a sequel to 2005’s The Great Yokai War, it’s actually a standalone story that takes place in the same kind of world. Ancient fossils have joined together to form a giant rolling yōkai (or yōkaiju) that threatens to crush Tokyo. The young Kei Watanabe (Kokoro Terada) thought he was an ordinary elementary school student, but it turns out he is the descendent of ancient yōkai fighting stock. Kei soon finds himself immersed in a world where he can see all of the friendly (and not so friendly) monsters, and is tasked with stopping the yōkaiju before it reaches the capital.

Like many of Miike’s films aimed at children, this one is often chaos on wheels — which is not necessarily a bad thing. Yet it makes vast improvements over the original, not only updating the special effects but maintaining a more streamlined narrative and a genuine sense of childhood adventure. After all, how many films are you going to see this year where there’s a dude riding a motorcycle leading an army of thousands of Japanese raccoon dogs?

Even more so than its predecessor, there’s huge swathes of the film that feel like they are there to lead us down a path to find some cinematic Easter eggs. Some of these are very specific to Japan, including spirits and gods not widely known outside of the country. There are dozens of creatures that pop up in this film, from Aburasumashi to Zashikiwarashi and every Fox-Faced Woman in between. (I’m also fairly confident Pennywise was lurking in the background of YAMMIT, the world yōkai summit). It’s never a hinderance to the enjoyment though, ultimately being aimed at kids of all ages.

Of course, it’s the special effects that do a lot of the heavy lifting in the back half of the picture. Gone are the slightly jerky stop motion creatures of the original, as evidenced by the more seamlessly long-necked antics of Rokurokubi (played by Myra Meadows). When the the titular great war kicks in during the final act, featuring the highly publicised appearance of a giant Daimajin from the 1966 Daiei film series, it’s pretty damn cool. It’s the Japanese monster version of Avengers: Endgame, except it contains at a musical number.

By the time you read this review, Miike has already moved onto his next three films. In fact, The Mole Song: Final is due out in Japanese cinemas in November. His films may not always be perfect (or consistent), but there’s an undeniable heart that still beats at the centre of his family fare.

THE GREAT YOKAI WAR: GUARDIANS is reviewed as part of our coverage of JAPAN CUTS 2021.

2021 | Japan | DIRECTOR: Takashi Miike | WRITERS: Yusuke Watanabe | CAST: Kokoro Terada, Hana Sugisaki, Sakura Ando, Takahiro Miura, Yuko Oshima, Eiji Akaso, Renji Ishibashi, Kenichi Endō, Akira Emoto, Nanako Matsushima, Kazuki Kitamura, Nao Ōmori Takao Osawa | DISTRIBUTOR: Toho, JAPAN CUTS 2021 | RUNNING TIME: 118 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 22 August – 2 September 2021 (JAPAN CUTS 2021)

August 31, 2021
Review: Evangelion 3.0 + 1.01 – Thrice Upon a Time

There are elements to this review that may be considered (very) minor spoilers. Proceed with caution.

Depending on your point of view, the fourth and probably final film in the Rebuild of Evangelion series has been either 14 years or several decades in the making. When Hideaki Anno relaunched his iconic anime series in 2007, few suspected that it wouldn’t be until 2021 that we would finally see his revised vision come to fruition.

It’s been all the more frustrating for fans given the radical directions taken in its predecessor Evangelion: 3.0 You Can (Not) Redo. Where the first two entries in the film series mostly stuck to an abbreviated (albeit visually shinier) version of the classic 1995-1996 series, a 14 year jump forward in time left us outside of the known universe and in completely new story territory. Or did it?

As the title would imply, EVANGELION 3.0 + 1.01: THRICE UPON A TIME (シン・エヴァンゲリオン劇場版:𝄂) is a direct continuation of that narrative. Opening with a spectacular clash between Willie and Nerv forces, the main story picks up with Shinji, Asuka and Rei wandering what’s left of Tokyo-3. However, life has found a way, with old friends and new living in a settlement near the edge of the city.

At 155 minutes, this film is not just the longest film in the series but one of the longest anime films of all time. As such, it’s easier to consider this a film of at least two major parts. On one hand, there’s several characters being forced to live outside their narrow constructs for the first time, and in the case of Shinji ‘Little Hamlet’ Ikari, finally get over his fatal indecision. The other, of course, is the overarching story of Shinji’s father Gendo and the Human Instrumentality Project — one that is far too complex for a handful of paragraphs. Suffice it to say that neither of them disappoints and they dovetail wonderfully by the end.

Having struggled with budgets in the original series, the visuals in this final chapter are next level. Since the last chapter, Anno has delved further into the live-action world on films like Shin Godzilla. This has directly influenced the scale of the animation, the likes of which have hitherto been unseen on our screens. Pulling from anime talent across the industry, the film — co-directed by Anno, Kazuya Tsurumaki (of GAINAX), Katsuichi Nakayama, and Mahiro Maeda (Blue Submarine No. 6) — switches from CG to traditional cel-animation seamlessly. At critical moments, it strips away all the facade by just using ‘unfinished’ storyboards and line art to lay these characters bare.

What really becomes evident by the end of this film — and you can take this as a spoiler warning if you like — is that Anno considers all of his Evangelion creations to be part of the one umbrella. Amidst all of the giant robots clashing and mind-boggling exposition, there’s still a core story about dealing with anxiety and depression. Anno might have stated that he associates with Gendo more these days, but it is still rare to see an animated film (or any film for that matter) be so open about human frailty and self-worth.

One can only imagine what Anno’s vision would have amounted to in the late 90s with a budget and global reach on this scale. Yet in some ways we don’t have to. EVANGELION 3.0 + 1.01: THRICE UPON A TIME is the culmination of all of the various narratives the series has created over the years. It’s frustrating at times, awe-inspiring at others, and quietly emotional when you least expect it. It is, in other words, Neon Genesis Evangelion.

2021 | Japan | DIRECTOR: Hideaki Anno, Kazuya Tsurumaki, Katsuichi Nakayama, Mahiro Maeda | WRITER: Hideaki Anno | CAST: Megumi Ogata, Megumi Hayashibara, Yuko Miyamura, Maaya Sakamoto, Akira Ishida, Kotono Mitsuishi | DISTRIBUTOR: Toho/Toei Company (JPN), Prime Video (International) | RUNNING TIME: 155 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 13 August 2021 (AUS)

August 13, 2021
Review: Poupelle of Chimney Town

It’s very easy to describe something as ‘Ghibli-esque’ when dealing with Japanese animation – so that’s exactly what I’m going to do. After all, while the occasionally dormant powerhouse doesn’t have a monopoly on whimsy, they’ve certainly done it better than most over the last few decades.

Based on the 2016 children’s picture book by Akihiro Nishino, POUPELLE OF CHIMNEY TOWN (映画えんとつ町のプペル) is a high concept piece that starts with an intriguing premise. In a city full of chimneys that has never seen the sky, the stars are something of legend. Young Lubicchi (voiced by Mana Ashida) is, like his father before him, the last of the true believers. After an encounter with Poupelle (Masataka Kubota), a person made of trash who comes to life on Halloween night, he sets out to prove the existence of the true sky.

What’s immediately striking about POUPELLE is the genuinely dazzling hybrid animation. We are introduced to the town in a Halloween dance sequence that bears more than a passing resemblance to The Nightmare Before Christmas. As the film progresses, visual cues are taken from side-scrolling games, and there’s a wicked mine cart chase that feels like a POV roller coaster. (You can get a sense of the animation from the opening sequence, released in its entirety online and embedded below).

Yet as a narrative, it never really gets beyond the simple setup. A series of events and encounters with colourful personalities really only serve to highlight the gap between Lubicchi’s optimism and the fatalism of the townsfolk. As such. there’s a little sense of ‘wash-rinse-repeat’ to the whole affair. The final act also lets it down a little, and it’s arguably a tad overlong, focusing more on the quirkiness of characters than any story progression.

Poupelle is a great example of this, constantly played as a buffoon to emphasise his innocence in relation to the cynical adults. Still, unquestioning younger audiences are bound to enjoy this, which the film seems to be banking on, although there are a few minor scary parts in there as well. Indeed, the concept of a two lonely boys finding each other and becoming instant friends is classic wish-fulfilment stuff.

POUPELLE OF CHIMNEY TOWN competed at the 44th Japan Academy Film Prize, against the stiff competition of franchise entries for Doraemon and Violet Evergarden, but ultimately lost to Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba the Movie: Mugen Train for Animation of the Year prize. Issues aside, it’s a film that will unquestionably age better than the initial view and no doubt mark a new branch in director Yusuke Hirota’s already impressive filmography.

2020 | Japan | DIRECTOR: Yusuke Hirota | WRITER: Akihiro Nishino | CAST: Masataka Kubota, Mana Ashida, Shinosuke Tatekawa, Eiko Koike | DISTRIBUTOR: Toho, Yoshimoto Kogyo, International Film Festival Rotterdam | RUNNING TIME: 101 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 2-6 June 2021 (IFFR)

June 16, 2021
Monster Mash: Godzilla

Godzilla. The very name conjures up so many iconic images, from toppling buildings to the fleeing citizens of Tokyo. It is hard to believe that this was largely dismissed by Japanese critics on release, seen by some as exploitative of a nation who were only just recovering from the very real devastation of a war.

Yet to understand the significance of Ishirô Honda’s GODZILLA (ゴジラ or Gojira – a combination for the Japanese words for “gorilla” and “whale”) is to recognise its proximity to a literal nuclear apocalypse in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. “Godzilla absorbed massive amounts of atomic radiation,” says palaeontologist Kyohei Yamane (played by the legendary Takashi Shimura) “and yet it still survived! What do you think could kill it?”

He could just as easily be talking about the Japanese spirit, with the 1950s causing many writers and commentators to ponder the future of traditions in the face of western influence. Only a few years before, writer Osamu Dazai pondered this dilemma (with an ironically western style of writing) in the classic No Longer Human (人間失格 Ningen Shikkaku or literally “Disqualified from Being Human”).

We’re now 65 years on from the initial release, with 35 films, dozens more Toho kaiju films and countless imitators to compare this to. It might be said that that this film is now dated, but that is decidedly unfair for a film that reinvented the modern monster film in the same way King Kong did twenty years earlier. Although the later Shōwa era films were made intentionally laughable and for younger audiences, there’s an earnestness here that carries the film well beyond its rubber-suited shopfront.

Consider the sequence where Godzilla emerges from Tokyo Bay, attacks a train near Shinagawa, and returns to the ocean. It’s an atmospheric and brilliantly edited sequence backed by Akira Ifukube’s now iconic score and, of course, that distinctive instrumental roar. Apart from maybe Tarzan’s yell, is there a more recognisable bit of sound design in cinema history? The vision of a devastated Tokyo was perhaps a little too real in 1954, and it remains as chilling today in its stark black and white as it did then.

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Then there’s the cast: Akira Takarada, Momoko Kōchi, Akihiko Hirata, and Shimura. While Hirata had only made his debut the year before (in The Last Embrace along with the first film in Hiroshi Inagaki’s Samurai Trilogy), the presence of Shimura adds a massive amount of gravitas to the picture. Shimura has well over 100 credits to his name by 1954, including a dozen of Akira Kurosawa’s films and his career defining lead role in Ikiru (1952). Remarkably, he would add as many credits to his filmography in the remaining 27 years of his career, appearing in 21 out of 30 Kurosawa’s films.

The Tokyo of today celebrates Godzilla, from the statue outside of the Toho headquarters to the massive head of its flagship character poking over another Toho building in Shinjuku. When I was there in September last year, Tokyo was being battered by strong winds resulting from Typhoon Jebi closer to Kyoto. Looking out at the massive figure on that rooftop with the elements raging, it felt as if the head would let out its distinctive roar at any moment. (It only does that 8 times a day though).

What resonates most powerfully about the film is the Dr. Daisuke Serizawa’s (Akihiko Hirata) fear that his ultimate weapon for fighting Godzilla could fall into the wrong hands. “Bombs versus bombs, missiles versus missiles,” he exclaims, “and now a new superweapon to throw upon us all! As a scientist – no, as a human being – I can’t allow that to happen!” He doesn’t, but his words echo the sentiments of a wary nation that feared a nuclear wasteland in the aftermath of the Second World War.

September 9, 2019
Review: Destiny: The Tale of Kamakura

Kamakura. Beaches. Temples. Giant Buddha. Mythical creatures living alongside humanity. That last one may not be found on japan-guide.com or in your Wallpaper handbook, but it’s the basis of director Takashi Yamakazi’s DESTINY: THE TALE OF KAMAKURA (鎌倉ものがたり).

Based on the manga Ryohei Saigan, the basic setup sees the recently married Akiko (Mitsuki Takahata) join her much older husband Masakazu Isshiki (Masato Sakai) in the titular Kamakura. As a writer, Masakazu is frequently called upon as a consulting detective in local spectral cases. When a mystery presents itself, he is on the case and Akiko is drawn deep into the mystical surrounds.

Yamazaki has previously adapted Saigan’s manga into the Always: Sunset on Third Street series, and there’s a similarly carefree charm to to this entry. Trading nostalgia for a more overt magical sheen, DESTINY is in no particular hurry to get where it is going. Indeed, much of the first two acts of the film merely introduce us to the local colour and set up the rules of the alternate Kamakura.

In one scene, Akiko is cooking up mushrooms purchased from a local shop, only to find her husband’s spirit trying to leave his body. Masakazu’s troubled relationship with his parents serves up a separate mystery to be solved. Another extended subplot sees a jinx god haunting their home and bringing bad luck. Similarly, the always wonderful Sakura Ando plays it up as the Grim Reaper in yet another running thread. In this sense, this adaptation might have worked better as a television series, but it’s a testament to Yamazaki’s adapted screenplay that it all still feels cohesive.

The special effects are on par with most ‘big’ budget Japanese productions. They might never be as large-scale as a Hollywood equivalent, but there’s always something going on to remind you this is not the Kamakura you know. Nevertheless, the lion’s share of the CG work is used in the final act and it’s seriously pretty. The Afterworld backgrounds are often breathtaking and a climactic train chase across a disappearing foundation is still a thrill.

Yet planet-shaking moments were never the goal here, and this climax merely acts to tie up the many stories presented in the first half. More than anything, DESTINY is a charming love story set inside a storybook version of Japan. If that sends you back in search of the source material, or leaves you with a smile on your face, then it has more than successfully done its job.

[stextbox id=”grey” bgcolor=”F2F2F2″ mleft=”5″ mright=”5″ image=”null”]2018 | Japan | DIR: Takashi Yamakazi | WRITERS:Takashi Yamakazi, Ryohei Saigan (manga) | CAST: Mitsuki Takahata, Masato Sakai, Sakura Ando | DISTRIBUTOR: Toho (JPN), Japanese Film Festival (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 129 minutes | RELEASE DATE: October – December 2017 (JFF) [/stextbox]

November 12, 2018
Review: Kids on the Slope

Whiplash eat your heart out! Based on the popular period manga, and later an anime series, KIDS ON THE SLOPE (坂道のアポロン) combines the chaotic emotions of coming of age in the 1960s with the controlled chaos of jazz.

The brainy but introverted Kaoru Nishimi (Yuri Chinen) moves out to a town around the Nagasaki prefecture due to his father’s work. An unlikely friendship forms between him and rough-around-the-edges Sentaro Kawabuchi (Taishi Nakagawa) and the pretty Ritsuko Mukae (Nana Komatsu) when they start playing jazz together Kaoru’s piano and Sentaro’s drums form a synchronicity that transcends their backgrounds.

There’s so much story packed into a 2-hour film that Izumi Takahashi’s (Tori Girl) almost invites you to go back to the source material. Nevertheless, the film is dripping with period detail. It’s the post-war optimism of Always: Sunset on Third Street filtered through the intensity of teenagers struggling to find their place in the world. It’s a shame that this single film tries to tie everything up in a single outing as there’s so many side threads that are left lingering.

Having said that, director Takahiro Miki (My Teacher) is almost slavishly faithful to the look and feel of Yuki Kodama’s manga. Early in the film, there’s an exaggerated rooftop fight that hits an over-the-top set of emotions that works better on panel than it does on screen. On the other hand, Sentaro’s hat and striped shirt will no doubt please the faithful fans from way back, even if it looks slightly ridiculous.

It’s a good thing that Taishi Nakagawa’s powerhouse performance overshadows any aesthetic qualities. Best known for his TV roles in Boys Over Flowers and GTO, he follows his lead role in last year’s ReLIFE with an angst-filled portrayal of a teen being torn apart by his own passions. Yuri Chinen (Mumon: The Land of Stealth) is a solid counterpoint. The actor spent a significant amount of time practicing the piano and it shows. It’s unfortunate that Nana Komatsu is not much more than a (literal) cheer squad for the boys.

The tide of manga adaptations will never stop, providing fertile ground for the prolific Japanese film industry. KIDS ON THE SLOPE is a solid and endearing version of some award winning source material that still clearly means a lot to a great number of people.

[stextbox id=”grey” bgcolor=”F2F2F2″ mleft=”5″ mright=”5″ image=”null”]2018 | Japan | DIRECTOR: Takahiro Miki | WRITERS: Izumi Takahashi, Yuki Kodama (manga) | CAST: Yuri Chinen, Taishi Nakagawa, Nana Komatsu | DISTRIBUTOR: Toho, Asmik Ace Entertainment (JPN) | RUNNING TIME: 120 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 10 March 2018 (JPN) [/stextbox]

October 14, 2018
Review: Laplace’s Witch

The sheer amount of Takashi Miike’s makes him one of Japan’s most prolific directors, no matter how many films Sion Sono puts out in a year. Case in point is LAPLACE’S WITCH (ラプラスの魔女), Miike’s 102nd film released in his eclectic career. Coming hot on the heels of Blade of the Immortal and JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Diamond is Unbreakable – Chapter 1, Miike brings us another adaptation, taking us into murder mystery territory.

Based on the novel by Keigo Higashino, the film begins with the deaths of two people suffocated by hydrogen sulfide at two different hot springs. Baffled by this unlikely occurrence, the police enlist the help of geochemist Professor Shusuke Aoe (Sho Sakurai) to help solve the case. Along the way he meets Madoka Uhara (Suzu Hirose), who has her own theories about what will soon occur. Their stories intersect with a bigger mystery, including Kento Amakasu (Sota Fukushi).

LAPLACE’S WITCH is a curious mix of moods. It begins as a police procedural, kind of a slightly more ethereal version of a Law & Order episode. Yet the odd title refers to something more complex, albeit not necessarily more interesting. The “Laplace” of the title refers to mathematician and scholar Pierre-Simon Laplace. We won’t pretend to understand Laplace’s original theories, but themes of observation and statistical prediction permeate the back half of Miike’s film. At least we think they do. It’s around this point that the film loses some of the momentum gained in the opening acts.

There’s Detective Yuji Nakaoka (Hiroshi Tamaki) arrives like Robert Shaw in Jaws, while Sho Sakurai (better known as a member of the boy band Arashi) plays the idealistic professor to the hilt. Supporting cast includes the ubiquitous Lily Franky, although he seems to be one of several threads that are underdeveloped in Hiroyuki Yatsu’s script.

Where Miike really succeeds here is in his collaboration with regular photographer Kita Nobuyasu. The film opens with crisp and foreboding snowscapes as his camera glides across rooftops, and the almost frozen river that runs through the centre of town. He maintains this frigid aesthetic throughout, which for some will be the height of slickness, while for others it will only serve as another barrier to connecting with this mishmash of character archetypes.

Following the mathematical theme, it all winds up a bit formulaic. Critic Josh Hurtado has suggested that it’s been quite a while since we’ve seen a great film from Miike, perhaps not since 2012’s For Love’s Sake. Maybe Miike has recognised some of this in himself, with a potentially meta character of a film producer (played by veteran Etsushi Toyokawa) described as being “known for edgy themes that don’t pander to audiences.” Which is how we might have once described Miike’s work before it entered a familiar cycle over the last decade.

[stextbox id=”grey” bgcolor=”F2F2F2″ mleft=”5″ mright=”5″ image=”null”]2018 | Japan | DIRECTOR: Takashi Miike | WRITERS: Keigo Higashino (novel), Hiroyuki Yatsu | CAST: Sho Sakurai, Suzu Hirose, Sota Fukushi, Masanobu Takashima, Lily Franky, Etsushi Toyokawa | DISTRIBUTOR: Toho (JPN) | RUNNING TIME: 116 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 4 May 2018 (JPN) [/stextbox]

October 3, 2018
Review: Penguin Highway

Studio Colorido and director Hiroyasu Ishida have slowly been building a reputation over the last few years with a series of acclaimed shorts and their commercial work. PENGUIN HIGHWAY (ペンギン・ハイウェイ) represents Ishida’s first feature-length foray, adapting a novel by Tomihiko Morimi (Tatami Galaxy, Night is Short, Walk on Girl).

Aoyama (Kana Kita) is only 3,888 days away from becoming an adult. The studious child follows in his father’s footsteps by chronicling all he sees in meticulous notebooks. So the sudden appearance of penguins in his small village warrants an investigation. Somehow related to the mysterious woman (Yû Aoi) working at a dental clinci, Aoyama and his friends uncover something wonderful.

Given the involvement of Studio Ghibli character designer Yojiro Arai, who also led animation on last year’s Ancien and the Magic Tablet, there’s a sweet charm that pervades just about everything in this storybook of a film. The breezy, summer holiday vibe is perfect for fans of Mamoru Hosoda and the like, and Ishida has younger audiences firmly in mind. This is refreshing for modern animation, even if there’s a few giggling jokes Aoyama’s fascination with boobs.

PENGUIN HIGHWAY is educational without being didactic. Emphasising the importance of questioning and ethically researching strange phenomenon, the triptych of kids at the heart of the film are easily identifiable as peers for all young audiences. There’s typical subplots about bullies and crushes, of course, but these remind us that these are still kids after all.

The wonderful animation is especially strong around the appearances of penguins. A motif of a cola can transforming into penguins is a clever trick. Later, a giant ‘ocean’ sphere appears in a field, resulting in a gravity-defying series of sequences. Without revealing too much about the final act, the most imaginative pieces are inside the sphere where things get really trippy. Umitarō Abe’s score is like a lighter version of Joe Hisaishi’s pieces, and just as endearing.

Offering a variety of intelligent role models for kids, PENGUIN HIGHWAY may not always be the most original piece, but it’s got a lot of heart. While the final act is reminiscent of both Ponyo and E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial, it all comes together for a satisfying all-ages adventure.

[stextbox id=”grey” bgcolor=”F2F2F2″ mleft=”5″ mright=”5″ image=”null”]2018 | Japan | DIRECTOR: Hiroyasu Ishida | WRITERS: Makoto Ueda (Based on the novel by Tomihiko Morimi) | CAST: Kana Kita, Yû Aoi | DISTRIBUTOR: Toho, Studio Colorido, Fantasia International Film Festival (Canada) | RUNNING TIME: 118 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 29 July 2018 (Fantasia), 17 August 2018 (Japan) [/stextbox]

August 4, 2018