Her Blue Sky (2019)

Tags

Animation, Anime, Drama, Fantasy, Romance

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was rather detailed, to “recall someone you used to know closely but are no longer in touch with, then a job you used to have but no longer do, and then a piece of art that you saw once and that has stuck with you over time. Finally, close the poem with an unanswerable question.” I decided to adapt the prompt to the viewpoint of a character from this film.)

He made me laugh until the day
He made me cry and went away.
Though where he’s gone I cannot say,
I like to think he rues that day.

My sister worked me to the bone
When she was young and trouble-prone,
But now that she is nearly grown,
I hate to think of her alone.

I still recall the song he played,
And when my sister can be swayed,
She plays and makes me wish he’d stayed.
Why can’t I let the memories fade?
_______________________________

MPA rating:  Not Rated (a tame PG-13)

While modern anime films are dominated by Mamoru Hosoda and Makoto Shinkai (plus the plethora of films based on existing properties), there are some underrated original gems that don’t get as much attention as they should. Her Blue Sky is yet another example of the poignancy so easily captured by writer Mari Okada, known for emotion-heavy tearjerkers like The Anthem of the Heart and Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms. This one doesn’t really aim for tears as those do, but it certainly appeals to one’s sense of nostalgia and the regret that comes with looking back at how much we change over the years.

Set in the mountainous Chichibu area (where Okada was born herself), the film focuses on a young bassist named Aoi and her older sister Akane, who has cared for Aoi alone for the last thirteen years, choosing this responsibility over running off to Tokyo with her musician boyfriend Shinno. As a music festival approaches, Aoi remembers her fondness for Shinno and is shocked when he appears in her shed, looking exactly as he did thirteen years ago. While she suspects he is a ghost, the arrival of a grown, still-living Shinno back to town catches them off-guard, and the difference between his optimistic younger self and jaded older self puts both sisters through the emotional ringer.

While some may be disappointed at the lack of explanation for the supernatural elements, especially during a climactic sequence that is both delightfully touching and a little silly-looking, Shinno’s younger self is supposedly an ikiryō, a Japanese spirit that can manifest from a living person, a bit of interesting folklore I didn’t know, much like the 1970s song “Gondhara,” which features prominently in the film. The animation is a treat, with particular detail afforded to the instrument-playing, which is so often obscured to avoid the effort of animating authentic performances, and I’ve always enjoyed the character designs of this creative team, who previously worked on shows like Toradora.

While Aoi’s moody teenager shell may seem pretentious at first, her relationship with her sister is strained but quite sweet, as are the interactions with Shinno as she questions her feelings toward her sister’s ex. Thankfully, it all wraps up in a satisfying end, which is surprising since much of that end is only suggested in still images during the end credits. Her Blue Sky isn’t very easy to find and doesn’t even have an English dub yet, but it’s a small and tender drama of music and sisterhood that is worth seeking out.

Rank: List Runner-Up

© 2022 S.G. Liput
767 Followers and Counting

Belle (2021)

Tags

Action, Animation, Anime, Drama, Family, Musical, Romance, Sci-fi

(Good Friday and work obligations sadly made me miss yesterday, but I’m back on the wagon. Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a curtal sonnet, an 11-line sonnet variant from Gerard Manley Hopkins.)

In the realm of cyberspace I hide,
Comforted by anonymity.
My flesh-self is content behind its smokescreen.
Robed in pixels, I can roam with pride,
Finding other introverts to agree,
Minorities like ghosts in the machine.

Life from womb to here has left me wincing;
Life since logging on is fancy-free,
Far easier to spurn the cruel and mean.
I’m someone else, and boy, am I convincing,
As you’ve seen.
________________________

MPA rating:  PG

In anime circles, a new film from Mamoru Hosoda is an event. From Summer Wars to Wolf Children to the Oscar-nominated Mirai, he’s proven to be one of the most skilled anime directors around, and Belle promised to be yet another win. A modern riff on Beauty and the Beast fusing music and social media, the film garnered a fourteen-minute standing ovation at Cannes, making me wonder if it was just a case of no one wanting to be the first to stop clapping. Belle is another strong film in Hosoda’s oeuvre, but, like Encanto, it’s also proof that a film can be good while also being deeply flawed.

In the near-future of Belle, a digital world called U has become the most popular metaverse for people across the globe to interact with avatars somehow extrapolated from their own biometrics, resulting in an array of bizarre appearances ranging from babies to superheroes to literal hands with a face on it, which no one seems to object to. Suzu is a self-conscious high school student still haunted by her mother’s death, but when she logs into U as the beautiful Bell (which is what Suzu means), she finds that the anonymity allows her to sing again and, much to her surprise, become a celebrity. As she deals with the flurry of differing opinions that come with fame, she grows curious about the aggressive avatar known as the Beast, whose unknown identity is hunted by U’s authorities.

Hosoda is no stranger to virtual worlds, having previously worked with the concept in Digimon and Summer Wars, so it’s no surprise that the world of U is dazzling, an eye-popping blend of 3D and 2D animation, thanks in part to backgrounds from Cartoon Saloon. It’s easily Hosoda’s most visually resplendent and imaginative film that still carries his calling cards (he must have a thing for flying whales). The bad thing about U is that so much of it is left unexplained. While OZ in Summer Wars had several clear real-world applications, the avatars in U are never shown doing much more than floating around and commenting, though there are concerts and fighting tournaments, I suppose. Plus, it’s never clear how the real-world users are interacting with the virtual world; at some points, it’s as if their avatars are mirroring their real body’s movements, but is it like Ready Player One-style mechanics? There’s mention of sharing the senses of their avatars, so how can they see both U and the real world when logged in? Questions like that just require a suspension of disbelief that divorces the virtual and real worlds for the sake of the story.

The virtual world is ostensibly the main fantastical draw of the film, but I honestly enjoyed the parts in the real world more. The high school romance drama is nothing unusual for the genre, but the relatable supporting characters are an endearing bunch, particularly during a laughably awkward love confession. It was also a nice subversion to reveal the usually unsympathetic popular girl as a genuinely caring friend. However, the real world is also where the story falters toward the end. The revelation of the Beast’s identity is a powerful moment that speaks to the trauma of hidden abuse, yet it’s a reality for which the film doesn’t really have an answer. One culminating sacrifice hits an emotional high, but Suzu’s efforts afterward are unrealistic and absent of any long-term solution.

Belle has a lot of impressive elements in service to a somewhat half-baked plot, and the Beauty and the Beast parallels are rather incidental to the main story. Its vision of social media feeding frenzies and the online experience are timely and well-executed, while Suzu’s journey to understand the meaning of selflessness is suitably moving as well. And though the songs sometimes feel shoehorned in, I must give props to their quality, including the English recordings for the dub, and I think that the climactic “A Million Miles Away” would have been a worthy nominee for a Best Song Oscar if the Academy would look around more. Belle may not match the likes of Wolf Children, but it lives up to Summer Wars and exceeds Mirai, in my opinion. The visual splendor on display largely overshadows the plot issues, just as long as you don’t think about it too much.

Rank:  List Runner-Up

© 2022 S.G. Liput
765 Followers and Counting

Wolfwalkers (2020)

Tags

Animation, Family, Fantasy

Who knows what mystery occurs
Within the woods, what secret stirs
Outside the realm of man’s mundane
Within the cryptic and arcane
Dimension far from mine and yours?

To know that it exists might be
Enough to bring anxiety,
To paint this aberrant unknown
As one more threat to be o’erthrown,
A cause for endless enmity.

And so it stays the stuff of tales,
In deepest wood and virgin trails,
A whisper easy to ignore,
That men may not endure one more
Concern to tip their tender scales.
_____________________

MPA rating:  PG

I had wanted to post this review for St. Patrick’s Day due to the Celtic roots of a film set in Ireland, but time got away from me. Still, I’m due to get back into writing mode since National Poetry Writing Month is right around the corner. I had been eagerly awaiting the next film from Tomm Moore and the Irish animation studio Cartoon Saloon, but I was disappointed that Apple TV+ got exclusive streaming rights to it. It wasn’t until I finally bit the bullet and subscribed to yet another streaming service (thanks, CODA and Finch, for changing my mind) that I was able to see Wolfwalkers. Thankfully, it was exactly what I wanted it to be, a warm and colorful flight of Irish fantasy that may well be my favorite entry from Cartoon Saloon.

Set in Kilkenny in 1650, Wolfwalkers draws on Celtic mythology, like The Secret of Kells and Song of the Sea before it, specifically the notion of forest-dwelling werewolf-like folk who become actual wolves while their human bodies are sleeping. Young Robyn Goodfellowe (Honor Kneafsey) is an English girl brought to Ireland by her father Bill (Sean Bean), a hunter commissioned by the dictatorial Lord Protector (Simon McBurney) to clear the nearby woods of all wolves. Not welcomed by the Irish children and reluctant to work as a maid, she desperately tries to help her father, eventually ending up alone in the forest. After a fateful encounter with a Wolfwalker named Mebh (Eva Whittaker), Robyn finds she’s become a Wolfwalker herself and must find a way to save her newfound friend from her own father.

Wolfwalkers has the same distinction I mentioned of The Mitchells vs. the Machines:  so many elements of its plot have been seen and done many times before, yet it uses these well-worn tropes so well that it exceeds the sum of its parts. We have the concerned and controlling father figure of The Little Mermaid, the prejudiced nobleman villain of Pocahontas (who even resembles Ratcliffe), the conflict of a supposed enemy turning out to be friendly from How to Train Your Dragon, the look-through-their-eyes transformation of Brother Bear, and I could go on. While I personally love all of these movies too, those who don’t like recycled ideas could easily label Wolfwalkers derivative. Yet the way the story unfolds is so much better than the cut-and-paste formula it might have been. The conflict goes beyond human and wolf, extending to the drudgery of dirty city life compared with the freedom of nature’s communion, and it’s notable that Robyn’s father is kept sympathetic and shown to be similarly hemmed in by the weight of responsibility and expectations. (Some unfortunate religious justification from the villain makes it a church vs. magic hostility too, though there’s also a line connecting the Wolfwalkers to St. Patrick.)

One aspect that certainly helps the film stand out is Cartoon Saloon’s ever-gorgeous animation influenced by illuminated manuscripts, which uses its symmetrical style to full effect in contrasting the dark, angular town of Kilkenny with the lush, painterly backgrounds of the forest. It’s an intoxicating style of picture-book illustration come to fluid life, and it still warms my heart that one lone Western studio is keeping the spirit of 2D animation alive, no matter how much time and effort it takes. In addition, it seems inevitable that I would love a film with a montage set to an Aurora song, the fitting and enchanting “Running with the Wolves.”

While I also loved The Secret of Kells and Song of the Sea and admired The Breadwinner, Wolfwalkers feels like Cartoon Saloon’s most complete and satisfying film yet (with a 99% Rotten Tomatoes score to back it up), though I am still partial to Song of the Sea too. It well could have won the Oscar for Best Animated Feature in one of Pixar’s off years, but Soul proved too strong a contender. Even so, Wolfwalkers is an animated delight that feeds my inner fondness for all things Celtic and distinguishes itself from similar stories with exceptional artistry and a winning blend of friendship and myth.

Rank:  List-Worthy

© 2022 S.G. Liput
759 Followers and Counting

Violet Evergarden: The Movie (2020)

Tags

Animation, Anime, Drama, Romance

I wear a weak smile
With weights on each end.
I faithfully labor
And greet every neighbor
To be a bulwark
On which all can depend.

Yet what I have lost
Haunts that which I’ve found.
Like one stubborn ember,
Your face I remember,
A past that burned bright
Upon life’s battleground.

They say what I know,
That I have to move on.
I still love the trace
That remains of your face.
I doubt it will ever
Be totally gone.
_________________________

MPA rating:  Not Rated (should be PG-13 for some violent flashbacks and heavy emotional themes)

Although I love anime, I’m often not sure how to review films based on anime series. For example, Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba – The Movie: Mugen Train was literally the highest grossing movie of 2020 worldwide, smashing records and becoming the first non-Hollywood film to top the global box office. Yet I don’t really know what to say about it. Because it’s a feature-length middle chapter for the Demon Slayer series, it’s hard to recommend it to those unfamiliar with the show, since a full appreciation of the film depends on some familiarity. It was exciting, eye-popping, a good continuation, and apparently a real tearjerker for some (not me), but its attachment to an ongoing TV series limits its appeal in my view. I feel the same for other anime films based on series, from the Steins;Gate sequel to the growing number of My Hero Academia features, which typically end up feeling decent but unnecessary.

Obviously, that’s not always the case. I’ve sung the praises of The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya, which built beautifully on its original show, and Cowboy Bebop: The Movie, which stands on its own just as well. I suppose it’s easier when a film comes after a show ends, rather than in the middle of its run. Anyway, it should indicate my high regard for Violet Evergarden: The Movie that I’m reviewing it at all, beyond making it List-Worthy.

For those unfamiliar with Violet Evergarden, it’s a show from Kyoto Animation based on a popular light novel series about a girl in a fictional semi-Victorian country where gas lamps exist alongside advanced prosthetic limbs. Utilized as a lethal child warrior during a horrific war, the girl is taken in by a Major Gilbert, who gives her the name Violet and hates using her on the battlefield, despite her effectiveness. In the midst of a major victory, both of them are severely injured, and the Major is lost and presumed dead. With the war over, Violet is sent to a friend of the Major’s who runs a post office, and she gradually eases into the more peaceful life of typing letters for others, a job called an Auto Memory Doll (basically a transcriptionist with a typewriter). While struggling to understand simple concepts like love and pining for the Major, she meets an array of customers who help her grow as a person.

The short 13-episode series itself is quite good, with strong characters and emotions, but its greatest strengths are the glorious, Oscar-caliber score and drop-dead gorgeous animation. It’s honestly some of the finest, most detailed animation out there, and almost any single frame could be hung on a wall as a work of art. I will say that the script can be weak at times, often ascribing great profundity to the letters Violet writes even when they’re more earnest than deep. But the film’s poignant themes grow more affecting with time, and the largely stand-alone tenth episode remains one of the most tear-jerking episodes of television imaginable. Even the thought of it makes me want to cry. The studio could have left the show alone or stopped after the spin-off film called Eternity and the Auto Memory Doll, which falls under that “decent but unnecessary” status that I mentioned before. But the studio decided to cap off the series with a finale film, despite delays from the infamous arson attack and COVID, and I’m glad they did because it’s everything I could have wanted in a conclusion (hello, 100% Rotten Tomatoes score).

It was a canny choice to frame the story as a retrospective investigation, with a young woman from decades in the future looking back on the tale of Violet Evergarden, and the woman’s connection to that moving tenth episode had me close to sobbing right from the start. The film soon jumps back to Violet’s time, after she has grown into the most popular Doll in the city, though her thoughts remain with her long-lost Major Gilbert. After accepting a job from a sick boy in the hospital who wants her help to write letters to his family once he is gone, Violet and her boss learn of evidence that Gilbert might be alive on a distant island, and they go in search of her beloved.

There were many ways that the film could have gone wrong. Would they pull a fake-out and say it wasn’t Gilbert? Would it be a tired amnesia scenario? But the way it plays out is both touching and makes sense for the characters, highlighting Gilbert’s guilt from the war and how much Violet has grown apart from him. The eventual climax is a massive tug to the heartstrings, and I felt like the film was effective in encapsulating the overarching story and its emotions, even for those who may not have watched the series. (Even so, I certainly recommend watching the show first for the full context and emotional punch.)

I’ve always thought that the concept of an Auto Memory Doll seemed odd and quaint, like something that would be unrealistic in the real world, though that view is likely shaped by the prevalence of modern literacy and easy communication methods. The film actually addresses that head-on, with the advent of the telephone threatening the entire Doll profession. One shot of a lamplighter gazing up at a newfangled electric streetlight perfectly captured the theme of technological progress. I suppose the job of writing letters for others could be compared to something like the Pony Express, short-lived but memorable, and while the story could have been antagonistic toward such progress, it manages to show the positive aspects of both the telephone and letter-writing in, of course, the most poignant way possible.

I can see how someone cynical could easily view Violet Evergarden with detachment and scoff at its overly melodramatic qualities. It can lay on the tragedy pretty thick at times and certainly falls under that category of anime that intentionally aim to bring the audience to tears, like Angel Beats, To Your Eternity, or anything from Mari Okada. But if you can truly connect with Violet’s journey to understand love, it’s well worth tears, and I like the fact that I’m not too jaded to be moved by it. I liked the series on its own, but Violet Evergarden: The Movie took the series’ strengths and elevated them with a near-perfect culmination of all that came before and left me with a precious lump in my throat. I feel sorry for those who don’t give anime a chance, because stories like this transcend the medium to be great films, period.

Best line:  (Daisy, the woman learning about Violet) “If there’s something I can’t tell them in words, maybe I could tell them in a letter. I want to finally tell them my true feelings. We don’t know how long we have, so I need to tell them while I still have time.”

Rank:  List-Worthy

© 2022 S.G. Liput
752 Followers and Counting

Encanto (2021)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Disney, Family, Fantasy, Musical

If I had a sister,
I would resist her.

If I had a brother,
“Why?” I’d ask Mother.

But since I do not,
I alone call the shots.

This child is only,
Perhaps a bit lonely.

It might have been nice
To have brothers’ advice.

I’d be a good sport
For a sister’s support.

Perhaps I’d not mind
That our lives intertwined.

To have more relations…
That’s just more frustrations!

If I had had brothers,
They’d deny me my druthers.

If I had a sister,
I’d cease and desist her.

I’d hate him, refund her…
And yet, I still wonder.
_______________________

MPA rating:  PG

It’s always nice or at least assuring when you can watch a movie and know exactly how you feel about it by the end. Whether you loved everything about it or found it a waste of time or just have that all-too-common meh reaction, at least you know your own opinion. But what about the gray space where you’re torn between a film’s merits and its problems, never sure which outweighs the other to turn the thumb up or down. Encanto is just such a film for me, a Disney animation that is equal parts marvel and mess but ultimately left me glad to know that a flawed film can still be a good one.

Set in Colombia seemingly in the early 1900s, Encanto focuses on the amazing Madrigal family, whose matriarch/Abuela (María Cecilia Botero) founded the town decades before with the aid of a magical candle that granted her a sentient house to live in and later supernatural abilities to her children and grandchildren. For every child growing up, a ceremony imparts a magical “gift” for their and the town’s benefit, but young Mirabel (Stephanie Beatriz) was spurned and left feeling anything but special. A few years later, when the candle’s magic seems to be dying, she decides to prove her worth by saving her family’s miracle.

There’s a lot going on with Encanto and its large cast, and, like Eternals, I’ve seen some suggest that it would have been better suited for a miniseries instead of a film to help flesh out the characters. Yet the film is a wonder at fast-paced characterization, in large part due to Lin-Manuel Miranda’s outstanding soundtrack of original songs. More than any other Disney film since Tangled, the songs are deeply integrated into the storyline, with musical numbers introducing and resolving entire subplots while making the exposition catchy and fun. Miranda’s Latin-inspired beats and trademark rapid-fire rhymes are first-rate Disney tunes, as evidenced by how often I’ve replayed them, especially “We Don’t Talk about Bruno” and the surprisingly deep and relatable “Surface Pressure.”

Among the film’s other strengths are its vibrant animation that turns the often poorly depicted nation of Colombia into a land of bright colors and magic, as well as a diverse Hispanic cast that includes the first Disney musical protagonist to wear glasses. So with all these pros, what’s so wrong with the film that it left me initially torn? Well, what’s left? The plot. Encanto has a good story and themes about suppressed familial trauma, the pressure of expectations, and the ripples caused by violence and displacement, which I’ve seen struck a chord with people of Latin American descent but are universal enough to be appreciated by folks like me as well, who may not have a large, close-knit family unit.

Oddly enough for Disney, the magic is where it stumbles. Little to no clear explanation is given for basically anything magical that happens, like how the candle became magical, why Mirabel was excluded, why the magic began to fade, or why the prophetic visions of Mirabel’s uncle Bruno (John Leguizamo) become vague and hard to interpret when he foresees the events of the film. This has resulted in an abundance of headcanons and theories about the film’s open-ended elements (“maybe Mirabel’s gift is her connection to the house”, “maybe she’s meant to be the successor to Abuela, who also lacks superpowers”, etc.), which are honestly fascinating, but I would have preferred that the film itself actually answer some of these questions. (One theory I liked was that, at her door ceremony, Mirabel touched the candle and then wiped her hands on her dress before touching the doorknob, perhaps transferring the magic to herself. It’s a good theory, but the film doesn’t bring any attention to it to indicate that was the filmmakers’ intent.) I realize this lack of explanation supposedly ties into the Colombian literary genre of “magical realism” where fantastical elements are often left unexplained, but these are aspects inherent to the plot.

Ultimately, the film simply wants the audience to “go with it” and accept what it presents without overthinking, and doing so certainly helped my enjoyment on a second viewing. Many of the family members’ gifts reflect their personality and character, such as Mirabel’s sister Luisa using her super-strength to bear every family burden or their mother being able to heal injuries with her meals (mom-cooked meals have definitely helped me feel better before). So on some level, the magic could be viewed as a giant metaphor for the roles and talents of any large family, but without more explanation, it’s something of a mixed metaphor. Yet it still clearly speaks effectively to the pressures on older siblings and feelings of inadequacy in younger ones.

While I wrestled with it for a while, I eventually decided that Encanto’s strengths outweigh its weaknesses. Some naysayers have pointed out its flaws and extended them to the good parts to make the film seem like a total catastrophe, which it’s not. It’s almost surprising that Disney would be behind a comparatively small-scale, introspective feature like this, boasting largely unknown voice actors and the rarity of a large and intact family, albeit one with issues. (Some friends of mine said they ought to do a follow-up short featuring the whole cast going through a therapy session.) For both entertainment and plot progression, it relies on Miranda’s music to do much of the heavy lifting, but the songs are up to the task, and there are so many cultural details and fast-moving gags amid the gorgeous animation that it’s well worth repeat viewing. Encanto is far from perfect, but, as Mirabel’s sister Isabela finds, perfection does not define one’s worth.

Best line: (Mirabel, to Abuela) “We are a family because of you, and nothing could ever be broken that we can’t fix together.”

Rank:  List-Worthy

© 2022 S.G. Liput
751 Followers and Counting

2021 Blindspot Pick #10: The Anthem of the Heart (2015)

Tags

Animation, Anime, Drama, Romance

If pens are mightier than swords,
Then speaking what they write is too.
And words no pen or page records
Can leave impressions deep and true
While those who spoke them have no clue.

Invisible, words plant their seeds,
Perhaps to not mature for years.
The flowers can be choked by weeds,
From tactless slurs to whispered fears
That did not settle on deaf ears.

We cannot know their full result
And may not live to see them grow,
But whether child or adult,
Our words outlive us here below.
Beware the seeds that you bestow.
___________________________

MPA rating:  Not Rated (a safe PG for light innuendo)

I always like to include at least one anime in my Blindspots, and this is one that I had just never gotten around to watching. The Anthem of the Heart has a strong pedigree with scintillating animation from A-1 Pictures and a screenplay from the queen of emotions herself Mari Okada (who would go on to direct the heart-shattering Maquia). It’s a sweet and sad story that ends up being much more of a teenage romance than a fantasy, and there’s something endearing about its simplicity.

When Jun Naruse was a young girl, she caught sight of her father exiting a love hotel with another woman, and he outright blames her when her big mouth leads to her parents’ divorce. Overcome with guilt, she encounters an egg-like prince who offers to curse her and prevent her from ever hurting others with her words. Years later in high school, Naruse is known in her class and neighborhood for never speaking. When a teacher encourages her and three other classmates to collaborate on a community outreach event, they end up putting on a musical, and Naruse learns that the curse does not limit her when she tries singing her feelings, which include a growing crush on one of her new friends.

Like Sunshine on Leith, I feel like this is a film I ought to love more than I did, what with the lovely animation and the plotline of putting on a musical, which includes original lyrics added to familiar tunes like “Greensleeves” and “Over the Rainbow.” There’s a half-hearted effort at planting doubt as to whether Naruse’s condition is truly fantastical or simply a psychosomatic result of her childhood guilt, and the result is underwhelming albeit more realistic. Likewise, the love triangle/square between Naruse and some of her classmates indulges in dramatic clichés while also trying to buck them in a way that does satisfy but not in the expected way, accentuating the theme that the real world is messier than fairy tales.

Nevertheless, The Anthem of the Heart had its fair share of strong and sincere emotions, with the climax giving me chills the way good musical drama does. Naruse’s concern about words hurting others affects more than just her story, and I liked the way it influences the supporting characters and helps her come out of her shell. The film ends up feeling like a small-scale story worth telling, one that probably would not have gotten as much love and detail put into it outside of the world of anime. It may not be a new favorite of mine, but I certainly hope to see more like it.

Best line: (Naruse) “Don’t tell people to disappear like it’s nothing. Words can hurt people. You can’t ever… You can’t ever take them back! Even if you regret, you can never take them back.”

Rank:  List Runner-Up

© 2021 S.G. Liput
748 Followers and Counting

The Mitchells vs. the Machines (2021)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Family, Sci-fi

(I almost decided to skip this last day of NaPoWriMo, being late once again, but it’s still April 30 on the West Coast, I suppose. The last prompt of April was for a poem giving directions, so mine is meant to lead to a happy family.)

There are many forks to family,
Where the road splits east and west,
Every one a chance to grow a bond
Or leave it cold and unexpressed.

Will you raise your voice or calm it,
Eye your child or your phone,
Repeat the things they want to hear
Or speak opinions of your own?

Take a left at dream-supporting,
Take a right at honesty,
And the forks will prove a straighter line
Than anyone on earth can see.
_____________________________

MPA rating:  PG

Rarely do I watch a Netflix movie so soon after it is released, but I’ve been eager to see The Mitchells vs the Machines ever since it was known as Connected and supposedly coming out last year as a non-Netflix movie. And I don’t mind it being sold to a streaming giant (thanks again, COVID) since it allowed me to watch a fantastic movie from the comfort of my home. The warm-hearted, hyperkinetic love child of Gravity Falls writers (Mike Rianda, Jeff Rowe, who also directed together), The Lego Movie’s producers (Christopher Lord, Phil Miller), and Into the Spider-Verse’s animation company (Sony Pictures Animation), The Mitchells vs. the Machines is an animated blast making full use of the talents behind it.

On the surface, The Mitchells vs. the Machines could easily have lapsed into one-note laziness, its plot boiling down to “dysfunctional family must deal with robot apocalypse.” On top of that, it really does embrace a ton of cliches, from the stressed father-daughter relationship, to the main character’s “I’m different from everyone else” monologue, to the villain saying “I already have” when they’re told they’ll never get away with it. It’s really a testament to the writing that the film is so consistently hilarious and the characters so well-realized that its strengths completely outshine the apparent weaknesses.

Honestly, this movie made me laugh harder and more often than any other in recent memory, thanks to its sly repeated gags, social commentary, and cultural self-awareness. I have long been a fan of Gravity Falls so it’s about time its writers were given an even bigger budget with which to play. My love for animation was further fed by the wondrous 2D-3D mix that Into the Spider-verse pioneered; it’s not quite as frenetic as that film’s comic book extravagance (which I think is a good thing), though it still includes imaginary, sketch-like flourishes to highlight how the movie-loving Katie Mitchell sees the world. Plus, the soundtrack is awesome, culminating especially in the action climax.

Abbi Jacobson does a fine job as Katie, but Danny McBride as her dad, Maya Rudolph as her mom, and Olivia Colman as the AI taking over the world are pitch-perfect casting. (Rudolph’s Linda Mitchell also gets the greatest mother beast mode scene in film history.) And as I said, the script is filled with huge heart to go with its constant jokes, stressing the power of familial bonds and subverting the usual trope of only the parent needing to grow to improve the strained relationship. I can’t wait to see The Mitchells vs. the Machines again, and I sincerely hope this creative team can deliver more gems like this one.

Best line: (Katie, after her dad locks the car doors) “Yeah, that’ll keep the robots out.”
(Dad) “Hey, you don’t know. Maybe locks are the robots’ weakness.”
(Mom) “Guys, can’t we all just be terrified together as a family?”

and

(Dr. Mark Bowman, the Steve Jobs-ish creator of the AI) “I’m sorry about causing the whole machine uprising. It’s almost like stealing people’s data and giving it to a hyper-intelligent AI as part of an unregulated tech monopoly was a bad thing.”

Rank:  List-Worthy

© 2021 S.G. Liput
731 Followers and Counting

Over the Moon (2020)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Musical

(For Day 15 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was to detail a habit picked up from a parent, which brought to mind the mooncake tradition in this film.)

I’d watch her in the kitchen,
Covered in a coat of flour,
Every movement sending clouds to scatter more.
She’d stuff the dough with filling,
Working hour after hour,
Leaving powder-stenciled footprints on the floor.

She taught me how to do it,
Find a rhythm and a cadence,
Every batch a surging wave to tempt the tongue.
She’d tell me ancient stories
Filled with animals and maidens
That thrill me still, though I am not as young.

I stand here in the kitchen,
With a flour layer ghostly
And form them each according to her spec.
They bear the same ingredients
And taste the same… well, mostly,
If only she were here to double-check.
__________________________________

MPA rating:  PG

With China becoming an ever more important market for films, Chinese culture has grown more prominent in the world of animation. Some are products of China itself (Ne Zha, Jiang Ziya), while others are the result of collaborations between Chinese and American studios, such as DreamWorks’ Abominable and last year’s Netflix-produced Over the Moon, both the work of China’s Pearl Studio. As a family musical with flights of fancy and relatable themes, Over the Moon has earned many comparisons with Disney movies, and while I wouldn’t go quite that far, it’s a quality film worthy of its recent Oscar nomination for Best Animated Feature.

While set in modern times, the story has deep roots in Chinese mythology, particularly the legend of Chang’e, the moon goddess who was separated from her lover Houyi when she took two pills of immortality and was flown to the moon with a Jade Rabbit. After learning and loving this legend, young Fei Fei (Cathy Ang) loses her mother early in the film (in true Disney fashion) to illness and is horrified when her father (John Cho) begins dating another woman (Sandra Oh) with a troublemaking son named Chin (Robert G. Chiu). In an effort to prove Chang’e is real for her mother’s sake, Fei Fei builds a rocket to the moon and, with Chin, encounters the moon goddess herself (Phillipa Soo of Hamilton).

While Over the Moon has a lot of the same ingredients as Disney classics (including direction by Disney animator Glen Keane), it doesn’t quite meet that hard-to-reach standard for me, whether because the songs are good but not great or because its tone often comes off as a “kids movie” rather than one for all ages. There’s certainly fun to be had with the eye-popping colors of the lunar city Fei Fei visits, and Soo as Chang’e herself is excellent playing the goddess as a pop star diva. And despite my earlier dig, the film actually has some surprising depth by the end concerning the pain of losing a loved one and how to move on. A poignant scene with a crane seeming to represent Fei Fei’s dead mother brought to mind how my own family takes comfort in the sight of a cardinal for similar reasons.

I guess the biggest problem for western audiences is perhaps not understanding the cultural and mythological basis of Over the Moon, making certain creative choices (giant frogs on the moon?) seem strange and random without context. I would recommend this video as a companion piece to the film; it actually increased my opinion of the movie and its many culturally authentic details that I as an American wouldn’t immediately understand. (For example, Chang’e is still so associated with the moon that China’s lunar landers are named after her, with rovers named after the Jade Rabbit. Plus, I had no idea what a mooncake was before this movie, but now I’m curious to try one.) In some ways, I could compare Over the Moon with The Polar Express as a smile-worthy journey to prove the existence of a mythological figure, but the 2020 film has enough colorful charm and cultural identity to stand on its own.

Rank:  List Runner-Up

© 2021 S.G. Liput
728 Followers and Counting

Ocean Waves (1993)

Tags

Animation, Anime, Drama, Romance

(The prompt for Day 3 of NaPoWriMo was to create a “Personal Universal Deck” of self-descriptive words, so I tried to come up with some word impressions for the characters of a lesser Ghibli film.)

Waves on the beach,
Wisdom to teach,
Woman and leech,
Scorning my speech.

Waves on my mind,
Wicked and kind,
Who she maligned
Is no longer blind.
__________________________

MPA rating:  PG-13 (for thematic material, very little objectionable)

I love so many Studio Ghibli films, but there are a few gaps I’ve been trying to fill, lesser-known works that have slipped through the cracks. Ocean Waves is one of them, an early ‘90s TV film based on a novel that was meant to give the younger animators a chance to show their stuff. It’s one of those subdued high school stories with a melodramatic love triangle that isn’t bad but can’t escape an overall dullness.

Told largely in flashback, the tale follows Taku as a high schooler who learns his friend Yutaka has a crush on a new girl named Rikako, and Taku is soon pulled into her life and drama more than he expected or wanted. My mom initially didn’t like Forrest Gump because of the way Jenny treated Forrest, and Rikako is in a similar mold. She manipulates, lies, uses people, and barely shows any remorse, yet her actions are eventually viewed with fondness. A high school reunion near the end hits some excellent nostalgic poignancy, but the main two characters aren’t exactly typical romance material, to the point that some have said the two male friends have more chemistry than the central “couple.”

Again, Ocean Waves is well-animated and not terrible, but it’s low-tier Ghibli with very little personality of its own and many tropes that have been done much better elsewhere. In fact, my favorite Ghibli film Whisper of the Heart has a lot of the same ingredients (high school love triangle, boy and girl who dislike each other at first) and yet has so much more character and passion to it. Perhaps Ocean Waves was just the warm-up.

Rank: Honorable Mention

© 2021 S.G. Liput
722 Followers and Counting

Soul (2020)

Tags

Animation, Comedy, Drama, Fantasy, Pixar

(The prompt for Day 1 of NaPoWriMo was to write something perspective-challenging based on a surreal jazz music video. I thought that the jazz and a change of perspective would apply well to Pixar’s latest film.)

Would the world appear different behind different eyes?
Before or behind them – which matters the most?
How much of his life can a man criticize
Before it’s reduced by his deep-rooted roast?

I’d hate to have nothing to show for my time,
My effort, my busyness spent every day.
If mountain views aren’t at the end of the climb,
Why struggle and strive to reach only half-way?

If I could fulfill all the hopes I once dreamed,
If I could be him or be her or do that,
Perhaps the time wasted could still be redeemed,
A medal to earn in life’s mortal combat.

How foolish, however, to think that my worth
Depends on a goal that can move as I near it!
How mindless to plan upon riches on earth,
No thought for what nurtures my soul and your spirit.

The climb can be tedious staring ahead,
A rock wall in front and a far distant peak,
But spare a glance round at the background instead
And find where you never considered to seek.
_____________________________

MPA rating:  PG

Thanks to a certain virus and the advent of Disney+, I was thankfully able to watch Pixar’s latest film from the comfort of my couch right at the tail end of 2020, though I would have gladly gone to a theater for it if one had been open. With Pixar’s diminishing creative trend over the last decade, I wasn’t sure where Soul would land among their undeniable classics and good-not-great outings, but I was thrilled to join the general consensus in deeming it the former.

The first Pixar film with an African-American protagonist, Soul follows pianist and middle school music teacher Joe Gardner (Jamie Foxx) as he manages to earn the jazz gig of his dreams and then promptly die, which isn’t a spoiler strangely enough. Appearing as a blue blob on his way to the Great Beyond, he escapes into an in-between realm where unborn souls are prepared before going to earth. He is paired with an uncooperative soul called 22 (Tina Fey), with whom he questions the meaning of his life and existence.

That last bit may sound overly heavy for a “kids movie,” and indeed Soul doesn’t seem designed for kids, with its middle-aged main character and existential questions of life and death. Director Pete Docter has explored weighty concepts before in Up and Inside Out, but other elements of those films seem clearly geared for a young audience. More than any other Pixar film, Soul seems especially mature, not in content, but in theme, while still retaining a likable sense of humor, and I personally love and admire animated films that can pull off such a tonal balance successfully.

The plot itself stays unpredictable and throws in some thought-provoking concepts without much time to consider all their implications, later utilizing them in surprising ways, much like Inside Out did. The animation is yet more evidence of how Pixar is leaps and bounds ahead of its CGI competition, full of textured backgrounds, hyper-realistic lighting, and amazing fluidity, such as the shifting forms of the charming Picassoesque entities named Jerry in the “Great Before.” And then there’s the music, both snappy instrumental jazz and a gorgeous score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, which is almost a character in itself as Joe’s creative passion.

I can’t say Soul is perfect, since it does have some unaddressed plot holes and oddly stops short of explicitly affirming Joe’s job as a teacher, which I think would have been a nice touch similar to Mr. Holland’s Opus. Nevertheless, Pixar excels in its dramatic gut punches, and Soul absolutely delivers those moments, from relatable reconciliations to noble sacrifice, and succeeds in conveying a life-affirming message that doesn’t come off as trite or recycled. Since it hasn’t happened for a Pixar film in a decade, I was really hoping that Soul would snag a Best Picture nomination, but alas, that didn’t happen (though it was nominated for Best Animated Feature, Score, and Sound). While I would have liked perhaps a more religious view of the afterlife, Soul remains general and accessible enough in its spirituality to appeal to all audiences, and its message of valuing life’s little moments ultimately meant a lot to me.

Best line: (musician Dorothea Williams, to Joe) “I heard this story about a fish. He swims up to this older fish and says, ‘I’m trying to find this thing they call the ocean.’ ‘The ocean?’ says the older fish. ‘That’s what you’re in right now.’ ‘This?’ says the young fish. ‘This is water. What I want is the ocean.’”

Rank:  List-Worthy

© 2021 S.G. Liput
721 Followers and Counting