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Director: Osamu Tezuka
Release date: November 1962
Rating: ★★★
Review:
‘Tales of a Street Corner’ was Osamu Tezuka’s first animated film, and the first production of his company Mushi productions, which Tezuka founded in 1961, after his contract ended at Toei Animations, Japan’s most important animation studio of that time.
The film immediately shows Tezuka’s high ambitions. First, ‘Tales of a Street Corner’ is of considerable length, clocking 39 minutes. Second, its designs echo the cartoon modern style of Europe, unlike anything previous in Japan. Third, Tezuka’s storytelling is highly poetical, reminiscent of Paul Grimault, avoiding tried story cliches. Fourth, the film has a strong anti-militaristic and pacificist tone, and is more than just mere entertainment.
It’s striking to note that, unlike Tezuka’s Astro Boy television series from a year later, ‘Tales of a Street Corner’ lacks any Japanese character. Instead, the film feels very European, both in its looks and in its music. Even the town in which the story takes place is clearly European, as are the poster violinist and pianist. These two characters form the heart of a romantic tale that Tezuka spins, with other protagonists being a little mouse, a moth, and even a broken lantern and a tree.
The whole tale is set in motion when a little girl drops her teddy bear in a gutter, but Tezuka’s story is anything but straightforward, and allows for some poetic moments, as well two series of silly gags involving numerous posters. The animation ranges from full animation to zooming into still images, with everything in between, and it is quite possible that Tezuka’s choices in the complexity of animation were motivated not only by its artistic value, but also by cost reduction.
‘Tales of a Street Corner’ is certainly charming, but as would later be more often the case with Tezuka, the director wants too much within one short. In fact, the short is overlong, and it’s unclear what he wanted the resulting film to be: a children’s film? A romance? A comedy? An anti-war statement? Now, the film is all this and thus none of that at the same time. Nevertheless, ‘Tales of a Street Corner’ remains a delight to look at throughout, and with this film Japan surely entered a new phase in animation, even if the film is still copying its European models.
Watch ‘Tales of a Street Corner’ yourself and tell me what you think:
‘Tales of a Street Corner’ is available on the DVD ‘The Astonishing Work of Tezuka Osamu’
Director: Eiichi Yamamoto
Release date: September 15, 1970
Rating: ★★½
Review:
The most important development in animation of the late 1960s and 1970s was the coming of animated feature films aimed at adults, instead of children/families. Heralding the new era was George Dunning’s 1968 film ‘Yellow Submarine’, but the two most important film makers pioneering in this new field were Ralph Bakshi in America (with e.g., ‘Fritz the Cat’ from 1972 and ‘Heavy Traffic’ from 1973) and Osamu Tezuka in Japan.
The three adult oriented anime films Tezuka made at his own Mushi Productions studio are called the Animerama trilogy and consist of ‘A Thousand and One Nights’ (1969), ‘Cleopatra’ (1970) and ‘Belladonna of Sadness’ (1973). The three show that Tezuka, like Bakshi, confuses adult oriented with a rather juvenile focus on sex and violence, making the films adult in content indeed, but otherwise rather immature and even exploitative products.
More than its adult orientation, ‘Cleopatra’ stands out for its highly eclectic style. The film tackles a variety of designs and animation styles, none weirder than the opening sequence, which takes place in the future year of 2001, and which starts live action actors with animated faces, an experiment luckily not repeated, for the results are pretty ridiculous, especially because there’s absolutely no lip synchronization, at all.
The film’s plot revolves around an alien planet called Pasatorine, which has a secret plan to wipe out mankind called ‘Cleopatra’. In order to find out the plans a trio of humans, naturally, goes back into time by “psycho-teleportation”, taking the souls of ancient characters in Cleopatra’s time.
Thus, the three main protagonists change identity: Jirov becomes Ionius, a powerful slave, Maria becomes Libya, an Egyptian city girl, and Hal turns into Lupa, a close companion of Cleopatra, who turns out to be a leopard, much to Hal’s chagrin. His character is the most annoying of the film, for the leopard is sex crazed and tries to get laid all the time, despite its animal features.
After ten minutes we’re in Egypt where Tezaku depicts the Roman conquest of the ancient kingdom in a very silly style, accompanied by some attractive space funk music. When we first see Libya, the adult orientation immediately becomes clear, for she’s bare breasted the whole time. The Egyptian plot is bizarre, too, with an ugly freckled girl changing into the sex goddess of Cleopatra with the sole reason to seduce Caesar and to kill him. Adding to the weirdness is the coloring, for Libya is rendered bright red, while Caesar is depicted as a green man.
Stylistically, the film is all over the place, anyhow, altering tiresome silliness and cheap rotoscoping with quite some beautiful graphic imagery, like the stylized fighting of the Romans and the Egyptian conspirators. The animation, too, is a mixed bag, from non-animation and cheating jump takes from pose to pose, without any animation in between, to far more interesting animation done in watercolors. The animation of the horse ride, and the struggle between Ionius and an Egyptian warrior are actually quite good, and even the first two sex scenes are interesting in their semi-abstract and even poetical stylization, while the third is depicted as a broken-down film. At one point the imagery reminds one of UPA or the Zagreb school, and at another point there’s even a cut-out sequence featuring variations on classic paintings.
What the film completely lacks, is character animation. Emotions are just indicated, not felt, and there’s only broad caricature, not character development. The potentially dramatic story is further hampered by random gags, often strange and out of place. Likewise, the story is sloppy and meandering, with the film makers having difficulty on whom to focus. For great chunks of screen time, the three protagonists from the opening sequence aren’t anywhere to be seen, and after the events in ancient Egypt have ended tragically (in that respect the film does follow Cleopatra’s real life), the film ends abruptly, leaving the viewer wondering why the whole ‘psycho-teleportic’ excursion, and thus most of the movie, was needed in the first place.
It must be said: ‘Cleopatra’ is not a good movie. It is more of an experiment than a success, more of a product of its time than a timeless movie, and rather a curio than an essential watch. It is a product of a more experimental era, but after watching the film, one can hardly wonder why this short age of adult oriented experimentalism stopped.
Watch the trailer for ‘Cleopatra’ yourself and tell me what you think:
‘Cleopatra’ has been released on Blu-Ray
Director: Eiichi Yamamoto
Airing date: June 27, 1973
Rating: ★★★½
Review:
The late sixties and early seventies saw some striking experiments in the animated feature film. These films left the tried paths of family film and aimed at a more adult audience. In Europe Walerian Borowczyk arguably made the first experimental animated feature with ‘Théâtre de Monsieur & Madame Kabal (Theatre of Mr & Mrs Kabal)’ (1967), René Laloux made quite an impact with ‘La planète sauvage’ (1973), while in the UK George Dunning’s ‘Yellow Submarine’ (1968) caused a revolution, inspiring for example ‘János Vitéz’ (Johnny Corncob) in Hungary. Meanwhile in the US Ralph Bakshi experimented with more adult themes in ‘Fritz the Cat’ (1972) and ‘Heavy Traffic’ (1973).
In Japan, Osamu Tezuka led the way with his Mushi Productions studio, releasing three more adult themed feature films: first ‘A Thousand and One Nights’ in 1969, followed by ‘Cleopatra’ (1970) and ‘Belladonna of Sadness’ from 1973.
All three were directed by Eiichi Yamamoto, but in contrast to the earlier two features Tezuka had no direct involvement in ‘Belladonna of Sadness’. Even more striking, the great master left his own studio halfway production. Thus, ‘Belladonna of Sadness’ is very, very different from Tezuka’s own rather cartoony creations.
According to Yamamoto he wanted his film to be a Japanese answer to ‘Yellow Submarine’, and to make it one the drew inspiration from the artwork by Kuni Fukai. However, Kunai’s dark and disturbing artwork is quite the opposite from Dunning’s cheerful fantasies. On the Blu-ray Fukai calls his own work from the early seventies ‘decadent’, and that certainly is an apt description. Fukai’s drawings are baroque, graphical, lush, and highly erotic. They have a distinct neo-art-nouveau character, which is both very psychedelic and very seventies. For Belladonna of Sadness’ Fukai functioned as the art director, and his drawings form the base of the complete film, which uses animation only sparingly, often leaving the camera tracking over the static artwork.
And what artwork! ‘Belladonna of Sadness’ sure is a marvel to look at. The watercolor-and-pen drawings are all interesting and of a high artistic quality. Fukai almost always uses a white canvas, in which the drawings more or less disappear, and there’s ample and expressive ornamentation to accentuate the feeling of the scene. There are some odd design choices, however. For example, the villain looks like he has no eyes and as if three bones are stuck into his skull, making him rather grotesque and unbelievable.
Animation, as said, is only used only sparingly. There is no lip-synchronization, whatsoever, and some of the animation is crude and simple. The most interesting animation occurs when the events are not shown directly, but only suggested. For example, in the best erotic scenes more is hinted at than shown, and when the world is struck with the plague, we watch the landscape melt. There are certainly some trippy scenes, full of metamorphosis, which form the best parts of the movie. The undisputed highlight of the film comes when the baroque images are suddenly changed for a rapid-fire delivery of much more cartoony designs in bold seventies colors. This frenzy of animated images is followed by beautiful glass painted animation full of metamorphosis.
The psychedelic images are further enhanced by the soundtrack, which mixes psychedelica, spacefunk and rock into a very seventies-like mix, akin to Alain Goraguer’s soundtrack for ‘La planète sauvage’ from the same year, albeit of a lesser quality. There are even a few songs to enhance the mood.
In contrast to the beautiful art the story of ‘Belladonna of Sadness’ is subpar, and even objectionable. The film is based on ‘La sorcière’ (1862) by Jules Michelet, a non-fiction book on witchcraft, and the film’s story is set in a fictive oppressive kingdom in which a peasant girl becomes a witch. However, Yamamoto’s and Yoshiyuki Fukuda’s screenplay apparently only uses the book as a source of inspiration, as their own tale is as predictable as it is boring.
Yamamoto apparently instructed Fukai that his film was ‘porn but make it a love story’. Well, the movie is certainly porn, but hardly a love story. The two lovers Jean and Jeanne are more vignettes than characters, and if anything, Jean is a weak and will-less coward. Worse, the porn is exploitive, featuring several rapes and a lot of violence. As can be expected, there is a lot of female nudity, but hardly any male one, although penises are omnipresent, especially as the devil takes the shape of a penis himself. Jeanne’s best moment comes when she reveals herself as a full-blown witch, which provides one of the film’s most iconic moments. But during most of the film she’s used and abused by powers beyond her control. The ending, too, is unsatisfying, and all too abrupt, forcingly trying to make the porn story into something political.
Thus, ‘Belladonna of Sadness’ may transcend normal porn (it’s certainly weird and original enough to do so), but not that of a cheap comic. There’s no depth to the story, at all, and the film’s exploitive character gives a bad taste in the mouth. Nevertheless, the movie is a feast of the eye and stands as a great example of the sheer experimentation that were the seventies.
Watch the trailer for ‘Belladonna of Sadness’ yourself yourself and tell me what you think:
‘Belladonna of Sadness’ has been released on Blu-Ray, but this is currently out of print
Director: Osamu Tezuka
Release Date: 1987
Rating: ★★★★★
Review:
‘Legend of the Forest’ is Tezuka’s longest and most ambitious short film.
Like many of his films it shows Tezuka’s concern with environmental issues. However, foremost, this film is Tezuka’s answer to Disney’s ‘Fantasia’ (1940). Based on the first and last movement of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s 4th Symphony it portraits the fight of forest creatures against the demolition of their forest.
The first movement tells about the struggle of a lone flying squirrel against one lumberjack and against the jealous fellow-forest animals. This part is the most extraordinary for its diversity in styles. It is as if Tezuka wanted to show the evolution of animation itself within his emotional story. At first, the story is told in manga-images only. There’s no movement, even though the realistic images are very lively. The next episode is in Émile Cohl’s style, followed by a very convincing homage to Winsor McCay’s ‘Gertie the Dinosaur‘ (1914). This is followed by a scene in which the little squirrel looks like Otto Messmer’s Felix the Cat or as an early Disney character. This episode is particularly beautifully animated. When a man comes into the forest with a chainsaw, Tezuka’s jumps to the style of Fleischer’s Popeye, including Fleischer’s tabletop-technique for 3d effects.
It’s followed by the first episode in color, in which the squirrel finds a female companion. This part starts as a clear tribute to the very first animation film in technicolor, Disney’s ‘Flowers and Trees‘ (1932), but is mostly drawn like a 1940s cartoon. The final episode of the first part, in which the man shoots his girl and the squirrel sacrifices himself, is quite Bambi-like. Interestingly, throughout the episode, the backgrounds and the staging retain a typical anime-like character.
The second part, using the symphony’s final movement, is less impressing than the first part. It starts with a very Fantasia-like fairy scene, but when we watch very anime-like breasted foxes, we know we’re in a different film. This part tells how magical forest characters (including a few dwarfs) win a war over a forest from a Hitler-like foreman. This part in particular resonates in several Ghibli-films with similar themes, like ‘Pom Poko‘ (1994) or ‘Princess Mononoke’ (1997).
The complete film is an original and unique statement, which deserves to be much more famous than it actually is. Tezuka’s animated output was of a high quality anyhow, but this film may stand as a particularly artistic highlight within his extraordinary career.
Watch ‘Legend of the Forest’ yourself and tell me what you think:
Director: Osamu Tezuka
Release Date: 1987
Rating: ★★★½
Review:
This film is named after a medieval sword smith who made swords that were supposedly cursed, creating blood lust in its wielder and finally making him commit suicide.
The film is an illustration of this curse and of its own motto: “A man with arms which can kill people like puppets is not aware that he himself has already become a puppet”. For this dark anti-violence film Tezuka uses realistic imagery and limited animation, which make the film look a little like an animated comic.
The film’s visual language is utterly Japanese, accompanied by equally Japanese music. But its message is universal, and another example of Tezuka’s strong dislike of war and violence. Even if it is not amongst his most impressive works, the film still manages to deliver its dark message.
Watch ‘Muramasa’ yourself and tell me what you think:
Director: Osamu Tezuka
Release Date: 1984
Rating: ★★★★★ ♕
Review:
Osamu Tezuka is known as the founder of commercial animation in Japan, but he never lost sight of the artistic possibilities of animation.
No film of his shows this more clearly than ‘Jumping’, arguably the best film he ever made. In ‘Jumping’ we watch the world from the eyes of rope jumping girl. As the short progresses she jumps higher and higher, and further and further, even jumping to Africa, to a war-ridden country and into a mushroom cloud, straight into hell.
‘Jumping’ is not only strikingly original, it is very well-made with its constantly moving backgrounds, and as funny as it is disturbing in its finale. The mushroom cloud, the nightmare of man, but especially of the Japanese, the only nation to have experienced it, is a frightful sight, even in this animated short. Together with the girl, we sigh with relief when in the end of the film we return to the familiar and peaceful territory of our home street.
‘Jumping’ maybe a clear product of the cold war era, its impact is still at work today, and its message still as significant.
Watch ‘Jumping’ yourself and tell me what you think:
Dr. Grob's Animation Review 