Cartoon Comparison: Train to Busan (2016) / Seoul Station (2016)

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Action, Animation, Anime, Cartoon Comparisons, Drama, Foreign, Horror, Thriller

When certain death surrounds you,
You’d be foolish not to fear,
To run and hide and save yourself
And those few you hold dear.

Yet in the face of jeopardy,
What will you sacrifice?
Your conscience and humanity?
For those too have a price.

For some, to care for more than self,
The risk may be too high,
But ask yourself how proud you’ll be
Both if and when you die.
________________________

MPAA rating for Train to Busan: Not Rated (I guess R but it’s not as bad as some)
MPAA rating for Seoul Station: Not Rated (should be R)

If someone had told me last year that the first movie I’d love in 2018 was a South Korean zombie flick, I’d never have believed it. I only half-believed all the positive buzz around Train to Busan because hey, it’s a zombie movie, and I don’t watch zombie movies. I’ve never seen Dawn of the Dead or The Walking Dead and have only really liked a precious few of that genre (World War Z, Warm Bodies). The living dead concept is intriguing, but usually it seems like an excuse for excessive gore and end-of-the-world futility. But for some reason I checked out Train to Busan, which I can now say is my favorite of the genre and honestly one of my favorite horror films period, mainly because it goes beyond its horror limitations to deliver exceptional thrills and emotional stakes worth caring about too. Since I loved Train to Busan then, I had to check out its animated prequel, if only for comparison’s sake, a prequel that reminded me exactly why I don’t typically enjoy zombie movies.

First, let’s focus on the good one. Train to Busan seems like such a simple idea: zombies on a train. It could easily have been the concept of a B-grade cheesefest, but the filmmakers went above and beyond to make it gripping. A big part of that is giving us worthwhile characters, particularly Seok-woo (Gong Yoo), a disengaged father who decides to accompany his young daughter Soo-an (Kim Su-an) as she returns to his ex-wife in Busan. There are various other passengers that quickly stand out as “survivor characters”: a man and his pregnant wife, a traumatized tramp, two high school students, and a self-serving businessman, among others. Things seem to start normally as the train sets out, but an abundance of warning signs builds the tension as a zombie outbreak engulfs the nation and the train itself. From there, it’s an all-out flight of survival with a few much-needed moments to catch one’s breath (even a disarming chuckle or two), but the suspense is ever-present. I don’t think I’ve been this tense during a movie since Dunkirk.

What’s impressive about Train to Busan is that it delivers the scares and shocks alongside an insightful character arc without sacrificing either. Seok-woo starts out as an apparent coward, fearfully closing a door in the face of someone fleeing the zombie onslaught, yet his self-first philosophy is called out in the criticisms of his daughter, while also playing out to an extreme in the uncaring actions of other passengers. The contrast between these mindsets imparts to the action some deeper themes behind it. There are sacrifices aplenty, some meaningful, some pointless, but the film seems to affirm the importance of helping others in the face of desperation rather than just oneself. To that end, the conclusion is surprisingly emotional as well, right up to the film’s anxious final moments.Since I’ve said I don’t like the gory side of zombie movies, I should address that part of it. There is blood, but Train to Busan is still greatly restrained compared with a lot of others out there. Heck, some of the commercials for Walking Dead are worse than anything in Train to Busan. A big part of that is the absence of knives and guns, which draw maximum blood while also dehumanizing the still human-like zombies. (Sorry, but all the head-shots and such bother me.) Here, baseball bats are as bad as it gets, and most of the blood comes from the initial outbreak of zombies biting people’s necks. The fact that the victims quickly “turn” also does away with the whole flesh-eating element while also making the ever-growing horde even scarier. So I was thankful that the film didn’t rely on violence for its scares. In fact, after the initial outbreak, it’s really more of a fast-paced thriller than a horror. The zombies are the running type also seen in World War Z, and there are several moments that had me going “oh my gosh” as things devolve from bad to worse, often making great use of the visual effects.

How then does Seoul Station, from the same director Yeon Sang-ho, compare? It’s not exactly anime since it’s Korean rather than Japanese, but it has a similar visual style. I think it purports to be a prequel showing the origin of the zombie apocalypse, but it doesn’t really give any further details about the actual cause. A wounded homeless man is apparently patient zero, and while he slowly “turns,” we meet a runaway girl named Hye-sun who has a falling out with her cash-strapped and selfish boyfriend. The boyfriend is soon confronted by her father, and the two of them go in search for Hye-sun right as the city starts spiraling into zombie-infested chaos.Seoul Station has some merit to it, mainly in the strictly horror department. There are some moments of genuine terror, particularly a white-knuckle encounter with a crazy woman, so if you enjoy zombie movies for the situational tension alone, you might like it. I, however, found plenty to dislike. For one, the animation, while mostly good, has the stilted look that 3-D-ish anime hasn’t gotten past, such as the way the characters walk. In addition, the gore and foul language (subtitled) are more pronounced here than in Train to Busan, and the characters are dumber compared to the rather clever survival techniques in its live-action counterpart. For one thing, everyone seems very slow to grasp the idea of a zombie outbreak, as if they’ve never heard of a zombie before, whereas Train to Busan showed that “zombies” were exactly where people’s minds went.

Still, I could look past most of that if the ending were worthwhile, but this is one case where the ending completely ruined it for me. The film pulls out a dark twist that pounds in the whole end-of-the-world futility I mentioned earlier I didn’t like. The characters are far less sympathetic, and the end only amplifies that. I didn’t hate the movie as I was watching it, but by the end, I did. Seoul Station tries harder to focus on its themes of class warfare, which were much more subtle in Train to Busan, yet it comes off as a cheaper offshoot of a much better original.I’ve said before that I have very particular tastes when it comes to horror movies, but seeing two ostensibly similar zombie films side by side made me consider why exactly I loved one and hated the other. I can say I prefer genuine creepiness and atmosphere over gore, but in this case, I think it comes down to this (spoiler warning): I don’t like stories whose main purpose is killing off its characters. If there’s no survivor by the end, then everything that came before was pointless. If I actually care about the characters who live and die, then the end product becomes even better. That’s why Train to Busan exceeded my expectations. Clearly, I’m not about to become a fan of zombie movies in general, but I’m glad to have found one member of the genre that truly impressed me.

Best line (from Train to Busan): (Soo-an, pricking her father’s conscience) “Dad, you only care about yourself. That’s why mommy left.”

 

Rank for Train to Busan : List-Worthy
Rank for Seoul Station: Dishonorable Mention

 

© 2018 S.G. Liput
536 Followers and Counting

 

 

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Cartoon Comparison: Ghost in the Shell (1995, 2017)

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Action, Animation, Anime, Cartoon Comparisons, Drama, Sci-fi, Thriller

Machine and man will merge one day,
Inevitably, some would say,
And what that day will look like
It is hard to visualize:

Computers in our brains perhaps,
Robotic limbs that won’t collapse,
And access to the Net unlike
The world can now surmise.

Yet as the world drives faster still
Our cybernetic dreams to fill,
Did any on this Progress Pike
Doubt whether this is wise?
__________________

MPAA rating for 1995 version: Not Rated (should undoubtedly be R for violence and nudity)
MPAA rating for 2017 version: PG-13

Ghost in the Shell is widely considered a classic, a game-changer for anime and the cyberpunk genre, and its growing niche popularity was bound to get Hollywood’s attention sooner or later. I, however, had little desire to see it due to its prominent violence and nudity, and it was only when the live-action adaptation with Scarlett Johansson was released that I felt I had to see it for comparison’s sake. And to be quite honest, I’m not much of a fan of the original or its remake, though that doesn’t mean they weren’t worth watching, and I found different things to appreciate in both versions.

The original 1995 film has plenty of ardent fans, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it’s a tad overrated. I can’t deny its influence on the cyberpunk subgenre, particularly The Matrix, which borrowed its falling lines of green data and the characters’ neck interfaces to plug into the Net. After seeing it, the Wachowskis even reportedly told producer Joel Silver that they wanted to “do that for real,” though at least they had the imagination to come up with an original story rather than a straight adaptation. Ghost in the Shell was also a forerunner for other dark cyberpunk anime like Ergo Proxy and Psycho-Pass, but I guess I just don’t find such soulless, cyberized dystopias very appealing.

Yet it’s not the world it creates that falls short, since the terrifically detailed animation doesn’t disappoint, but the story itself does. After an assassination mission that establishes Section 9 as a no-nonsense branch of the future Japanese police force, we get a convoluted tale of a rogue hacker called the Puppet Master, which has more twists than substance and culminates by the end with very little resolution. The main character named Major Makoto Kusanagi, a cyborg officer who works best without clothes, delivers sober monologues about identity and technology but doesn’t really have much personality. The side characters are actually more interesting than her, like her lens-eyed partner Batou or non-cyberized member Togusa.

I suppose it’s easy for Ghost in the Shell to coast on its visuals and supposed depth; it does have some thrillingly iconic scenes, like an invisible smackdown on a fleeing thug, and some worthwhile themes about the necessity for variety and growth do manage to counter the moments of ponderous introspection. I will say the nudity is gratuitous. You could argue that Kusanagi’s thermoptic camouflage is built into her skin so she has to be naked for it to work, but other Ghost in the Shell installments show that there are entire uniforms that can go invisible. Critics have delved into deep themes like posthuman femininity, but I’m convinced it’s just fan service.

The 1995 Ghost in the Shell film is the franchise’s most famous incarnation, but it’s not the best. Even if the film left me cold, I was impressed by its two-season spinoff series called Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex. It’s got some of the same hard-to-follow philosophizing and excessive violence, but the overarching stories carry more depth when developed over a season’s length, which also allows far better characterization for Kusanagi and everyone else too, like the other members of Section 9 that are barely acknowledged in the movie. After seeing the two films that summarize Stand Alone Complex (and a follow-up film called Solid State Society), I find that the 1995 film’s story is even less impressive by comparison. I can’t bash the original Ghost in the Shell too much since it does appeal to some people more than me, but I would suggest that its fans check out the series for some much better storylines. (On a side note, Stand Alone Complex might also have had some influence in the West. For fans of The Dark Knight, remember when the Joker threatens a hospital to convince random civilians to try to kill Coleman Reese? I now see that it’s suspiciously similar to a scene from SAC’s season 1, in which a super-hacker takes over the minds of random citizens to carry out an assassination attempt. Interesting….)

Now what about America’s take on Ghost in the Shell, which didn’t do much to improve people’s poor opinions of live-action anime adaptations? It’s actually not that bad an adaptation in my opinion because I consider many of its flaws to be flaws the first film had. I, for one, don’t mind Scarlett Johansson’s casting, regardless of the inevitable whitewashing accusations, since others have pointed out that the cast is still plenty diverse and needed a bankable star. Even if her character is renamed Major Mira Killian, her status as a cyborg with only her brain remaining human makes her appearance relative and changeable, and the film even works in a way to contrast her current appearance with her original identity. I’ve seen critics complain about potentially deep themes that aren’t fleshed out enough, a lack of personality for Johansson’s character, and a generally lackluster story, but I felt that was the case for the original too.

The strangest thing for me was something that I haven’t seen any other reviews point out, namely that 2017’s Ghost in the Shell isn’t just a straight remake of the 1995 one, but an odd amalgamation of several Ghost in the Shell incarnations, including the Stand Alone Complex series. There are numerous scenes lifted shot for shot from the 1995 film, like the invisible beat-up, the spider tank fight, and the opening montage of creating the Major’s body, but they are all placed in a completely different context. The first action scene with the robotic geishas is straight from the first episode of SAC. There’s also a scheme to pick off Section 9’s members (like SAC’s first season about the Laughing Man), the incorporation of Major’s antagonist/counterpart Kuze (from SAC’s second season), and a secret government kidnapping plot (from the Solid State Society movie). It was seeing all these disparate elements combined with a totally new story of Major questioning her identity that felt strange to me, like I wasn’t sure which story they would try integrating next.

One aspect of remakes that Hollywood can be expected to get right more often than not is the impressive visuals, and like the anime, the world of seedy, hologram-laden skyscrapers it creates is far more intriguing than the characters in it. That’s not to say it’s a place I’d want to visit, but its visuals at least honor the original and its predecessors, like Blade Runner, even if it’s also alienating.

With its obvious nudity, I never would have thought a live-action Ghost in the Shell would receive a PG-13 rating, but that reflects the fact that the 2017 film tries to soften the harder edges of an anime that is definitely not for all tastes. Johansson’s robot body is more like a skin-color body suit, like the blue Mystique from the X-Men movies, and its intentionally manufactured appearance makes it less flagrant than the original. The same goes for the violence: the film does its best to make itself gritty and unpleasantly ruthless, but at least there aren’t any of the graphic head shots from the film and series. Even Major’s characterization is less stone-faced than her animated version (though I’ve heard every version of her is somehow different from the manga). In contrast to the emotionless ambiguity of the 1995 film’s ending, the search of Johansson’s Major for her past offers a shred of poignancy to hold onto, something I actually felt was an improvement.

Neither Ghost in the Shell is perfect or even close to perfect, in my opinion, but they have enough atmosphere and intrigue to be worth discussing. Both do have the repeated Ghost in the Shell plotline, which the TV series helped me recognize, that being “Super-hacker seems like bad guy until it turns out to be an evil government/corporate conspiracy.” I suppose the 1995 film could be seen as a philosophical sci-fi film with some action, while the remake is an action film with some philosophy. Although the 2017 version is considered a flop, it might be the best anime-to-live-action adaptation so far (I’m hesitant to see the widely panned Death Note), at least nailing the original’s distinct visual merit. With more anime adaptations on the way, including Your Name (please don’t ruin it, J.J. Abrams!), there might be hope for future efforts to do better with more appealing source material.

Best line from 1995 film: (Kusanagi) “You talk about redefining my identity. I want a guarantee that I can still be myself.”  (Puppet Master) “There isn’t one. Why would you wish to? All things change in a dynamic environment. Your effort to remain what you are is what limits you.”

Best line from 2017 film: (Dr. Ouelet) “We cling to memories as if they define us, but they really don’t. What we do is what defines us.”

 

Rank for both: Honorable Mention

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
517 Followers and Counting

 

Cartoon Comparison / 2017 Blindspot Pick #9: Hear Me (2009) / A Silent Voice (2016)

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Animation, Anime, Cartoon Comparisons, Comedy, Drama, Foreign, Romance

Whispered rumors, mocking humor,
Overhearing words of spite,
Talk of blame and guilt and shame,
Made all the worse because they’re right—
Oh, to shut such voices out,
Unkindness barely out of sight.

Those with ears, now let them hear,
But if they can’t, do words turn rude?
Is absence of respect and love
The norm when barriers are viewed?
Perhaps it’s best the deaf don’t hear
Unkindness at such amplitude.

Those who fear the scorn they hear
May hide in deafness self-imposed,
Just as those who never chose
Their handicap can feel exposed.
Yet all who rise must recognize
Life’s eyes and ears should not be closed.
______________________

MPAA rating for Hear Me: Not Rated (should be PG)
MPAA rating for A Silent Voice: Not Rated (could be PG but probably PG-13)

In honor of  September being Deaf Awareness Month, I thought it appropriate to combine my monthly Blindspot Hear Me as a Cartoon Comparison with the anime film A Silent Voice, both of which are about a relationship between a boy and a young deaf girl. I thought to combine their reviews before I’d even seen them, but now that I have, the truth is that they’ve got far more differences than similarities. Hear Me is a Taiwanese romantic comedy with the unique distinction of being mostly in sign language, while A Silent Voice is a poignant tale of a bully’s emotional journey toward forgiveness, with romance staying on the back burner. (I thought they were both Japanese until I saw Hear Me was from Taiwan.) Yet both do address issues of deaf people and how others relate to them.

I’ll start with my Blindspot pick Hear Me, which intrigued me when I heard it was mostly in sign language. That probably won’t please anyone who doesn’t enjoy subtitles, but it makes for some very unique conversations, some of them quite dramatic yet communicated with only hands and facial expression rather than voice. Eddie Peng (who just appeared this year in The Great Wall) plays Tian Kuo, a delivery boy for his parents’ restaurant, who meets a girl named Yang Yang (Ivy Chen) at the public pool while her sister trains for the Deaflympics. Since he knows sign language, he freely converses with her over time, and their relationship goes through some familiar highs and lows, with deafness as a potential complication for their future together.

Let me just say that Hear Me has abundant charm, thanks largely to Eddie Peng, whose goofy, lovestruck antics and faces shine through even without words. There is dialogue too, in Chinese, mainly for the humorous exchanges between Tian Kuo and his bossy mother, but sign language and relative quiet are the rule rather than the exception here. The romance is also refreshingly wholesome, with the most suggestive moment just Tian Kuo seeing Yang Yang’s feet while she’s changing, which gives him a nosebleed. (It’s funny, I’ve seen that happen in anime, but this suggests that it’s something that actually happens to Asian people when they get excited.)

Hear Me actually focuses on the dual relationships of Tian Kuo and Yang Yang, as well as Yang Yang and her deaf sister Xiao Peng (Yanxi Chen). After Tian Kuo offends his crush by disrespecting her meager income, his efforts to win her back may bring to mind John Cusack’s desperation in Say Anything, just instead of holding a boom box outside of her window, he dresses as a tree and gives her a coin bank shaped like a bird. Really similar, see? The humor comes from Tian Kuo’s side, while Yang Yang and her sister face more dramatic issues, like craving independence despite being deaf. Yang Yang earns all the money, while her sister focuses on competing as a swimmer, but when her performance suffers, Xiao Peng comes to regret and resent her own dependence on her sister, climaxing in an all-hand heart-to-heart between them.

Hear Me makes the most of its unique sign-language dialogue, which serves the story rather than being just a gimmick. I liked how a misunderstanding was cleverly prolonged, as well as the few reminders of Yang Yang’s Christianity, since her absent father is said to be a missionary to Africa. It may not be a laugh riot, but there were definitely funny moments, especially a hilariously awkward scene where Tian Kuo’s parents sing his praises to his girlfriend. The central relationship also featured several of those heartwarmingly romantic moments that made Hear Me a pleasure to watch.

Now for A Silent Voice, or as its Japanese title Koe no Katachi translates, The Shape of Voice. While it received many accolades, A Silent Voice suffered somewhat from bad timing, being released just a month after last year’s mega-hit Your Name in Japan. (Incidentally, both were nominated for Japan’s Best Animated Feature Academy Award, but neither one won. That honor went to In This Corner of the World, which I’ll get to at some point.)  Whereas Hear Me was a romantic comedy with some moments of drama, A Silent Voice is much more dramatic in its young-adult setting and is bound to make sensitive viewers reach for the tissues more than once.

The film starts with the carefree elementary school life of Shōya Ishida, who is dumbfounded at the arrival of a new student, a girl named Shoko Nishimiya who reveals through writing in her notebook that she cannot hear. While the other students are civil enough at first, the situation quickly devolves into bullying, led by Ishida. These scenes remind you how cruel kids can be and easily make your heart break for Nishimiya, who endures it all with quiet patience, still thinking the best of her classmates. When she finally is forced to change schools, the blame for her departure quickly falls on Ishida, and he takes her place as the class scapegoat and bully target. Fast forward several years to Ishida in high school, and his marginalization has only deepened, even making him consider suicide, until he tries to seek out Nishimiya and make amends.

A Silent Voice makes the uncommon choice of first portraying its main character as a bully, the kind whose maliciousness seems normal to them but traumatic to their target. Yet the same person we dislike from the outset grows into a source of sympathy as he tries desperately to put that childish cruelty behind him. I loved the creative choice of placing X’s over the faces of his fellow classmates, marking them as people he has no chance or desire of knowing, as literal “unfriends.” These X’s become a brilliant way of visualizing Ishida’s mental state and his chances of relationships with others; when he lets his guard down, actually noticing and treating someone else as a person or vice versa, the X falls from their face and allows him a chance at a friend.

The relationship between Ishida and Nishimiya is touching on multiple levels. They’re both broken people with agonizingly low self-esteems, Ishida because he considers his past offenses unforgivable, Nishimiya because she blames herself for any trouble around her and believes she somehow deserves it, always apologizing for everything. It’s amazing how easily she seems to accept Ishida after what he did, but it’s the mere effort of communicating with her that she values most. Also perceptive are their interactions with the friends they make and how they respond to the bullying: one girl still sees Nishimiya as insincere and worthy of her harassment, while another views herself as completely innocent, even though she watched Nishimiya’s persecution and did nothing. These bullying themes and Ishida himself meant much to me because I too have been on both sides; I was picked on by an older classmate for a time and I did the same myself, something I still regret despite it happening only once. Ishida doesn’t approach Nishimiya with any set goals of how to make it up to her, but he tries to build the relationships he once helped destroy, something any repentant bully would wish they could do as well.

Kyoto Animation has a reputation for excellence, from the popular Haruhi Suzumiya franchise to the highly anticipated Violet Evergarden, and A Silent Voice is proof of the studio’s talents. The animation is painterly with its luminous, pastel palette, and, even if some of the artsy editing makes it unclear at first what just happened in the nonlinear storyline, it looks gorgeous throughout. The abundant use of symbolism and some ambiguous scenes (like the very first and last shots) also make it a film worth analyzing and hearing others analyze. I still consider Your Name the best anime of last year, but A Silent Voice is quite simply a beautiful film that wears its emotions on its sleeve. Anytime it threatens to dip into teen melodrama, it’s revived by a sweet moment or heart-tugging conversation. I laughed out loud twice, I actually cried “No!” at one harrowing part, and the final scene gives me tearful chills every time I see it.

Going into these two movies, I really expected them both to be List Runners-Up, as so many movies I’ve seen recently have been. On its own, Hear Me probably would be a Runner-Up, but A Silent Voice earns its way onto my List and gives me an excuse to add Hear Me as a tie. Both approach their deaf subjects with great sensitivity, stressing that they are relatable people in search of the same relationships we all crave. Hear Me had far more sign language than A Silent Voice, which didn’t really bother to translate with subtitles when it was used, but both are excellent features for Deaf Awareness Month and are well worth seeing any other month, for that matter.

Best line from Hear Me: (Tian Kuo’s father, of his mother) “She’s got a knife for a mouth and tofu for a heart.”

Best line from A Silent Voice: (Kawai, a sort-of friend) “Everyone suffers in their life. But it’s like that for everyone, right? So you have to love the bad parts of yourself too and move forward.”

 

Rank for both: List-Worthy (tie)

 

© 2017 S.G. Liput
507 Followers and Counting

 

Cartoon Comparisons: Upside Down (2012) / Patema Inverted (2014)

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Animation, Anime, Cartoon Comparisons, Drama, Romance, Sci-fi

 

Right-side up is upside down
To those who smile when they frown,
To those who plunge whene’er they jump
Or rise when tripping on a bump
Or gobble down and up their meals
And sink a little in high heels,
To those who elevate a bit
If they lean over, kneel, or sit,
To those who set a precedent
When they descend on their ascent.
Up and down can be subjective.
‘Tis a matter of perspective.
____________________

MPAA rating for Upside Down: PG-13
MPAA rating for Patema Inverted: should be PG

For the next Cartoon Comparison, I’ve chosen two science fiction films with wildly imaginative concepts that happen to be suspiciously similar. Both the live-action Upside Down from Canada and the anime Patema Inverted from Japan feature the idea of opposite gravities: people walking on the ceilings, objects falling up, and the unlikelihood of two oppositely oriented young people overcoming the hatred of their politically hostile worlds. What differs is the way their worlds interact and the pseudo-scientific “explanation” for the curious gravitational situation.

Upside Down came first so if there was any copying being done, the live-action film can claim to be the original. Here, as explained by the narration of Adam (Jim Sturgess), two planets orbit each other so closely that there is essentially no sky. Looking up from either world, one simply sees the other planet’s surface, about as far away as a skyscraper, echoing perhaps the folding city street in Inception. One planet is considered Up Top, full of wealth and societal power, while the other is the economically exploited Down Below, though there’s no telling how they were named, considering the potential confusion of “up” and “down.” Luckily, the extraordinary visuals elevate the film’s none-too-subtle class struggle. Even if there were moments that I wasn’t sure what I was seeing at first, the remarkable effects were a marvel to the eye.

As for the love story, Adam from Down Below happens to meet Eden (Kirsten Dunst) from Up Top, and they share remote romantic rendezvous in the mountains until the government breaks them apart. Years later, as Adam experiments with a practical anti-gravity serum, he seizes a chance to see Eden again at Transworld, the tower-like corporate bridge between the two worlds. The two leads certainly have chemistry, but due to a certain plot point, they don’t get to take much advantage of it, and Sturgess’s behavior can be awkward at times.

Yet Adam’s quest to reunite with Eden without being caught by the authorities leads to a good deal of inventiveness, such as his attempt to weigh himself “up” and pose as a citizen of Up Top. Unfortunately, logic gets in the way at times, including the film’s own invented gravitational rules. For instance, Adam never seems to have a problem with the blood flowing to his head when upside down. Wouldn’t that be both uncomfortable and a possible give-away to anyone who might notice? In addition, one of the planetary laws is that matter from opposite worlds eventually burns, but the time it takes for this to happen seems inconsistent. By film’s end, the conclusion is peculiarly rushed, offering a blanket resolution to crucial issues it couldn’t hope to address and doesn’t try. Upside Down is brilliant in concept, less so in execution, but the visuals alone are worth the watch.

Upside Down may have come first, but Patema Inverted utilizes the notion of inverse gravity far better, in my opinion. Perhaps the fantastical image of falling up is simply more credible in animation rather than live-action CGI, but it certainly captured the imagination of director Yasuhiro Yoshiura, who previously directed the compelling series-turned-movie Time of Eve. (I was impressed by both Patema and Time of Eve separately but didn’t realize till afterward that they shared the same director.)

Instead of the up-front exposition of Upside Down, Patema Inverted takes its time to show and develop the gravitational anomalies as the characters discover them. Patema is a girl living in a City of Ember-like underground bunker and seems to be one of the few inhabitants to show an interest in the Forbidden Zone, where dust floats upward and “bat people” are rumored to lurk. After a close encounter, she finds herself dangling from a fence with the sky looming “below” her. Luckily, she is saved by the equally curious surface boy Age, who seems upside down to her. Age lives under a totalitarian dystopian government, whose leader is determined to root out the surviving inverts, who made their way underground after a catastrophic accident sent most of them falling into the sky years ago.

Upside Down basically lacked any sky; there was only so far someone could fall. Patema Inverted, however, makes the sky an imposing threat, a beautiful but dangerous abyss ready to swallow Patema without Age’s assistance. The animation is frequently dazzling, especially when the point of view shifts to contrast Age’s perspective with Patema’s. As Patema ventures into Age’s world and he ventures into hers, the distinction of up and down becomes fluid. The plot even takes some initially confusing twists that challenge the viewer’s perceptions and require some extra thought to fully comprehend. Some might be befuddled, but I found it fascinating. Plus, the musical score is enchanting and perfectly complements the film, including the gorgeous credits song “Patema Inverse,” which is sung in Esperanto and earns a place in the End Credits Song Hall of Fame. Between this and Time of Eve, I’m definitely hoping that Yoshiura continues to create such intriguing films.

I will admit that Patema Inverted seems to draw some inspiration from Upside Down. The cause of the inverted gravity differs (natural phenomenon vs. manmade disaster), but how the two gravities interact is the same: the lesser weight lightens the gravity of the other. This leads to the couples in both films holding on to each other to prevent the other from falling away, and being able to defy gravity by using each other’s weight. Writing about it doesn’t seem to do it justice, but it’s clever, cool, and undeniably similar in both films. As original as Patema Inverted is, I can’t help but wonder how much inspiration it drew from the earlier film. In addition, Patema is also rather slow in its gradual plot progression, and the villain is stereotypically bad for bad’s sake.

 

Despite these minor “down”-sides, Patema Inverted is easily the better film. Upside Down may have brought gravitational sci-fi to life first, but its conventional plot can’t compare with the thought-provoking vision of its animated counterpart.

Best line from Upside Down: (Adam) “Gravity, they say you can’t fight it. Well, I disagree. What if love was stronger than gravity?”

Best line from Patema Inverted: (Age, when holding onto Patema) “I get it! Your weight makes me light.”  (Patema) “Girls don’t like it when you talk like that!”

 

Rank for Upside Down: List Runner-Up
Rank for Patema Inverted: List-Worthy

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput
408 Followers and Counting

Cartoon Comparisons: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016) / The Dark Knight Returns (2012)

Tags

Action, Animation, Cartoon Comparisons, Drama, Superhero, Thriller

 

Titans once clashed in the Greek myths of old,
When swords were the weapon of man sandal-soled.
Men marveled at stories of inhuman glories,
Which none had the privilege or chance to behold.

Now the world watches for titans once more,
For angels and devils to fear or adore,
And mythical quarrels with optional morals
Are thrills for mankind, as they were long before.
_________________

MPAA rating for Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice: PG-13
MPAA rating for The Dark Knight Returns, Part 1 and Part 2: PG-13

Since my Cartoon Comparisons aren’t limited to just Disney and anime, I decided to compare the recent Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice with the animated WB adaptation of Frank Miller’s comic book miniseries The Dark Knight Returns. Both follow their own storylines, but Batman v Superman does draw some inspiration from The Dark Knight Returns, most notably in how the famous comic ends with a battle between the Dark Knight and the Man of Steel.

I should start out by saying that I am unapologetically a Marvel fan. Everyone has their preference, and I tend to think that those more drawn to DC or Marvel are more likely to forgive their movies’ faults. For example, one of my coworkers is a DC purist and loves to poke holes in Marvel movies while making excuses for films like Batman v Superman. One thing, though, that I find uncontestable (but I know many do contest) is that in recent years, Marvel films have taken the lead and DC is now struggling to keep up. Oddly, DC seems to be doing the opposite of Marvel; instead of introducing each hero in their own movie and bringing them together Avengers-style, DC is tossing in the likes of Wonder Woman and the Flash without much explanation and then providing a stand-alone film. I know DC is trying to differentiate itself from Marvel, but it’s a strange creative choice that doesn’t lend itself to a cohesive setup.

Honestly, I wasn’t too eager to see Zack Snyder’s Batman v Superman. The trailers were meh, the reviews were worse, and Man of Steel didn’t exactly thrill me as the beginning of a new superhero universe. Yet, with all the other DC films planned to follow, I felt I should give it a try, if only to keep up with the curve. Was it terrible? No. Was it anywhere near good Marvel? No. It was certainly better than I expected, and I found it to be a solid serious take on the DC heroes, particularly Batman, played with surprising intensity by Ben Affleck. While watching it, my main complaints were simply facts of its existence: it’s very dark, very serious, and very long. It still kept my interest through its 181-minute runtime with its mostly sound acting, cleverly symbolic dialogue, and periodic bursts of action, but boy, are there flaws! It’s just that its flaws were more noticeable after the fact than during the movie, and I’m not sure if that’s to the film’s advantage or detriment.

I suppose my biggest qualm going in was the very concept of Superman and Batman fighting each other, even though it has precedent in the comics. I loved Captain America: Civil War, but I don’t want the good guys to clash among themselves too much. Thankfully, that’s one thing that Batman v Superman does fairly well. Superman’s issues with Batman have to do with his shadowy vigilantism, but Batman’s objections to the Son of Krypton are more deep-seated, stemming from the rampant destruction that made Man of Steel notorious. One must keep in mind that these characters don’t know each other’s intentions, and I could understand Bruce Wayne’s distrust of a godlike alien. Even so, I felt that all of the anti-Superman rhetoric was rather narrow-minded. Most people wouldn’t blame a fireman for only being able to save half of the people in a fire, yet everyone seems to question Superman’s motivations, focusing on the one or two uncertain events instead of the countless lives he does save. No wonder Henry Cavill’s Superman acts so grim and depressed; note to the writers, Batman is supposed to be the brooding one.

There are smaller nitpicks too, such as Jesse Eisenberg’s youthful, God-haunted Lex Luthor, who seems more obviously crazy than the charisma of Gene Hackman’s original or even Kevin Spacey’s knock-off. A friend of mine said Eisenberg would have made a better Riddler, and I tend to agree. The film is also far from cohesive, with plot threads weaving all over the place, and a foreshadowing dream sequence has some unexpected predictive elements sure to confuse the uninitiated. As for the big brawl that may or may not have made DC fans geek out, it’s well set-up and well executed but ends with a semi-obvious plot twist that gets more stupid the more I think about it. Naturally, Batman and Superman couldn’t stay enemies for long, but the turnaround is sudden to the point of absurdity. At least, Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman does make a nice if underused debut, and I’m actually more interested to see her movie than another Batman/Superman pairing. In trying so hard to set up the upcoming Justice League films, Batman v Superman offers much to appreciate and much to criticize, and it’s all a bit…much. I’m not saying Marvel is perfect either, but at least they’ve found a formula that works. DC is still struggling to find their feet, and, even if they have the spectacle, I’m dubious that they can reach the same level of entertainment.

Now for The Dark Knight Returns, which was broken up into a Part 1 and Part 2, both of which are about the same length as Batman v Superman when combined. I used to watch the animated Justice League on TV, but I’m not as familiar with the more recent direct-to-video animated films that lean more on the mature side. The Dark Knight Returns was my first exposure to these, and I see why it has been acclaimed and, despite the different storylines of each film, recognize several similarities with Batman v Superman. Among the aspects it shares with Zack Snyder’s film are the Batman/Superman fight (of course) complete with kryptonite gas, a line from Bruce reminding someone that “We’re criminals. We always have been,” repeated news reports debating the legitimacy of unsupervised heroism, an unexpected televised massacre, a nuclear explosion with Superman high in the atmosphere, and an ending funeral scene, in which the two movies have the characters’ places switched.

Unlike Batman v Superman, where Superman is still a new hero for Earth and Batman is a somewhat older than usual version, having already assumedly beaten the rogues to be seen in Suicide Squad, The Dark Knight Returns features a much older Batman in the 80s, who has retired from hero work after the death of his second Robin named Jason. With Gotham City being terrorized by a violent gang called the Mutants and the return of a supposedly rehabilitated Two-Face, Bruce Wayne decides to “return” as the hero it needs and deserves. As his crusade continues in Part 2, he also battles the once-catatonic Joker and eventually Superman himself, aided by the young Carrie Kelley as the new Robin.

Part of what sets The Dark Knight Returns above its live-action counterpart, in addition to its more focused narrative that still covers a lot of ground, is the sense of history among the characters without showing it all. Batman is haunted by the deaths he couldn’t prevent, even telling the Joker he blames himself for allowing his foe’s killing spree to last so long, but he acts with the sureness of experience. The police have a varying reaction to the Dark Knight; those like Commissioner Gordon who remember Batman’s past heroics welcome him with a hands-off policy, while the newer recruits and incoming Commissioner Ellen Yindel see him as merely one more violent influence on Gotham City. Debates rage on the news and talk shows over whether Batman should be admired or arrested, with one know-it-all psychiatrist especially criticizing him with some good points, but the mix of opinions is a bit more balanced than the backlash in Batman v Superman. We even get some cameos from much older Selina Kyle and a grizzled Oliver Queen/Green Arrow (who has one arm for some reason, reflecting that unseen history I mentioned earlier).

The Dark Knight Returns also boasts a stellar voice cast, led by Peter Weller of Robocop as Batman. Also (Lost alert!), Michael Emerson, who played such a great villain in Ben Linus, brings a similar ruthless sneer to the Joker. As for Batman’s climactic clash with Superman, it plays out rather similarly, but for entirely different reasons. It goes back to the history they have with each other in this post-Justice League world, and interestingly the reason is more like that in Captain America: Civil War than in Batman v Superman. Unlike Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel, this Superman directly supports the U.S. government and its Reagan-esque President and is sent to put a stop to Batman’s vigilante brand of justice. They clearly disagree, but even in the heat of battle, their respect for each other causes them to hold back. And it doesn’t end with a silly twist so it’s arguably a better confrontation, which is more of a symbolic clash of ideals than the death battle in Batman v Superman.

Another point where The Dark Knight Returns has it over Batman v Superman is its depiction of Batman’s conscience. Both Batman and Superman are well-known for their refusal to kill their villains, which of course lets them come back repeatedly, but Zack Snyder seems to have ignored that fact. I didn’t notice at first, caught up in the impressive action sequences, but Affleck’s Batman doesn’t seem to mind smashing cars into people and general murder of the bad guys, perhaps owing to that “feeling of powerlessness that turns good men cruel,” as Jeremy Irons’s Alfred says. The Dark Knight Returns’s Batman, however, takes care to leave his baddies alive, only coming close to killing when pushed to his limit; one especially cool rampage in the tank-like Batmobile makes a point of using rubber bullets to incapacitate the Mutant gang without killing them.

 

Despite the upheld ban on killing, there is quite a bit of violence and some nudity for a PG-13 cartoon. Some of the fistfights are vicious, and while the more gruesome scenes are left offscreen, it doesn’t shy away from blood, mainly in scenes with the Joker. Not to mention, the Joker has a Batarang sticking out of his eye for a while so I can’t help but think an R rating might have been more deserved. Likewise, Batman v Superman has its fair share of brutality, though comparatively little blood.

Both Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice and The Dark Knight Returns have their strengths and weaknesses. The former is gritty and well-acted for the most part with a jam-packed plot that will likely reward repeat viewings, but its overstuffed length and particularly drab treatment of Superman aren’t about to make it a classic either. The Dark Knight Returns is clearly a stronger film, though that’s owed to its acclaimed source material which didn’t have to set up a whole superhero universe through cameos. The animation is nothing special but it illustrates the story well; the older Batman is a wise and responsible version of the hero who is still susceptible to human weakness and grief yet manages to even rally the citizens of Gotham to his cause. Despite the violence, some weird unexplained slang, and several loose ends left open, such as the Cold War entanglements, The Dark Knight Returns is a strong Batman movie and proves why DC often seems so much more suited to the animated realm (and TV, like Arrow). I won’t begrudge DC fans the pleasure of seeing their favorite heroes in live action on the big screen, but Marvel does it so much better. Only time will tell if that holds true for DC’s future line-up.

Best line from Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice: (Lex Luthor, actually offering a good point) “You don’t need to use a silver bullet. But if you forge one, you don’t need to depend on the kindness of monsters.”

Best line from The Dark Knight Returns (the real best line is a spoiler but this one will do): (Alfred) “If it’s suicide you’re after, I have an old family recipe. It’s slow and painful. You’d like it.”

 

 

Rank for Batman v Superman: List Runner-Up

Rank for The Dark Knight Returns: List Runner-Up

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput
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