Matt Cooper Anime, Films

A Letter to Momo (2011) by Hiroyuki Okiura

Following the death of her father, Momo (Karen Miyama) moves with her mother Ikuko (Yuka) to the small island comunity of Shio, moving in with Ikuko’s aunt and uncle. Momo is still dealing with the regret of arguing with her father before his untimely demise in an accident; carrying with her an unfinished letter from him reading only ‘To Momo’. She soon has other things to worry about as three guardian spirits Iwa, Kawa and Mame (Toshiyuki Nishida, Koichi Yamadera, and Cho) arrive from Heaven to watch over Momo and her mother, taking the shape of yokai from a picture book in the attic.

“A Letter to Momo”, written and directed by Hiroyuki Okiura, is aimed squarely at children with a powerful message about loss and regret following the death of a parent. The animation is well-done, capturing the characters’ movements and the beautiful summer island scenery. In particular, the weather is depicted in stunning style, with darkening skies presaging rain, and the incredible force of a typhoon is palpable. Mina Kubota’s enjoyable score captures the youthful energy of Momo and the monsters. The puerile humour will no doubt appeal to young children, but often seems out of place given the dark subject matter, switching from contemplative drama to fart jokes rather than more character-driven comedy. There are several inexplicable elements to the plot, such as the yokai’s voracious appetites and kleptomania, and their reason for being there at all requires suspension of disbelief that may be beyond some older viewers.

The film deals with a young girl processing her father’s death; struggling with her guilt over her harsh words to him the last time they met. It is an important message for children and yet the film seems to struggle to examine this central tension outside of a few key scenes. The comic relief of the yokai, intended to break up the downbeat tone, is awkward and more emphasis on the other human characters, such as Momo’s new friends on the island, or her mother’s aunt and uncle may have provided more meaningful relationships for her. The film suffers in comparison to “Okko’s Inn” which had a similar theme and fantastical elements, but managed to bring them together in a more cohesive way. “A Letter to Momo” often feels unsure as to what age of child it is aimed at, failing to fully satisfy for either young children or older teens.

Matt Cooper Anime, Films

Princess Mononoke (1997) by Hayao Miyazaki

After bringing down a rampaging boar that threatens his village, Prince Ashitaka (Yoji Matsuda) sets off in search of the evil that is poisoning the forest. Cursed himself by the mysterious plague that turned the boar wild, Ashitaka has only a short time to live, unless he can lift the curse. He soon reaches Irontown, ruled over by Lady Eboshi (Yuko Tanaka), who has destroyed large areas of the forest in order to mine for ore to manufacture weapons. When a young girl, San (Yuriko Ishida), who lives with the wolf god Moro (Akihiro Miwa), attempts to destroy Lady Eboshi and the humans who are damaging the forest, Ashitaka is forced to choose between the worlds of men and nature.

“Princess Mononoke” is a thrilling, fantasy adventure, following the central protagonist on a hero’s journey of sorts. However, the film is far from straightforward, with a number of subplots, including Lady Eboshi’s war against rival samurai Lord Asano’s forces; the magical Lord of the Forest which is being hunted; San’s history as a girl whose soul was taken by the wolves and who was transformed into a feral guardian of the forest. All of these characters and stories lend a sense of scale to the world and allow for the exploration of various themes. Even the central narrative of nature versus the predations of human society is not black and white, as we see Lady Eboshi caring for lepers and women saved from forced prostitution. The dynamics between the various factions carry real weight and it feels as though Ashitaka faces a genuine dilemma in who to protect. The animation is stunning, showing a true love of the natural world, from torrenting rivers, wind sweeping the grasslands, and vast mountain ranges. The wolves, boar and the red elk that Ashitaka rides are also given as much personality and motivation as the human characters. The action sequences are kinetic and oftentimes brutal with no shortage of blood, severed heads and limbs. Joe Hisaishi’s majestic score, filled with heroic themes and mysterious melodies, is the perfect accompaniment to this incredible film, nuanced and uplifting, yet at times dark and troubling.

The film’s central theme about mankind’s destruction of the natural world and their violent natures is brought to life here in grisly detail. The bloody battle sequences and industrial Irontown are in stark contrast to the beauty and tranquility of the forest. However, as mentioned before the film shies away from characterising all the human characters as evil. Even Lady Eboshi, the ostensible antagonist, is shown as caring and democratic in her running of the town; while the animals are not averse to violence, anger, and destruction themselves. Likewise, San’s backstory suggests that the animal god’s are temperamental and prone to revenge. Ashitaka is plunged into a world of complexity to which there is no easy answer and at the end of the film we are left with this same sense of unease about the potential future we are facing and the realisation that while the solutions to our many problems may not be easy they are however worth fighting for.

Matt Cooper Films

Mystic Shrine Maiden (2019) by Takeshi Sone

A local shrine maiden discovers a past tragedy in this whimsical drama. Toko (Miyu Yoshimoto) works as a maiden at the shrine in her small hometown, performing chores for the priest and making frequent visits to the residents who are always happy to see her. When she is told that the town festival will not take place due to some peculiar ancient prohibition, Toko takes it upon herself to prepare for the celebration herself. She later meets a young girl at the lake nearby, causing a panic in her father who tells her the lake is off-limits to those from the village. With a little help from a geeky visitor, Toko uncovers the mystery behind this unusual prohibition.

Director Takeshi Sone is better known for his gruesome horror tales, but with writer Motoki Nakamura creates something cheerful and uplifting in “Mystic Shrine Maiden”. The film touches on folklore and tradition, with darker elements, but for the most part things are kept upbeat. The opening musical number performed Miyu Yoshimoto, who plays the gleeful, eternally optimistic Toko, creates an atmopshere of joyful whimsy, with some fantastic camerawork. The direction is well-done, with a charming freshness that becomes both a strength and a weakness. What begins as a comedy becomes darker later on when we discover details of Toko and Mayumi’s past, and what happened to Toko’s mother; however many of these moments are brushed over without much time to delve into the tragedy. At a sprightly 70 minutes the film could have benefitted from a little more focus on the characters, who are largely left as charicaturish figures: a wannabee magician, a hopeless mime, a woman who likes playing hide-and-seek. All of these could have been fleshed out and tied into the central narrative. As it is the film remains an insubstatial and innocuous drama.

Toko is brought back to life through her mother’s sacrifice with survivors guilt leading her to uncover the mystery and rejoin her old friend. There is also a dark twist on the coming-of-age story which would see Toko passing on to adulthood following her discoveries, but her sees her passing over to the other side. These darker elements are woven into a story that on the surface appears as an enchanting exploration of youthful joie de vivre, with an unconventional subtext.

Matt Cooper Films

Ashura (2005) by Yojiro Takita

As dark forces mass, a fearless Demon Warden fights to protect humanity from the hellish horde in this historical-fantasy epic. After an incident in which he struck down a young child, famed Demon Warden Izumo (Somegoro Ichikawa) leaves the profession, beginning a new career as a popular Kabuki actor. Meanwhile, Bizan (Kanako Higuchi) a demon witch, along with the help of Izumo’s former colleague Jaku (Atsuro Watabe), works to bring about the revival of Ashura, the demon overlord, whose re-emergence will in turn see demons once again overrun the earth. Izumo meets a mysterious woman, Tsubaki (Rie Miyazawa), who has no memory of her past and the two are set on a path that will lead them to the edge of Armageddon.

“Ashura”, directed by Yojiro Takita, is an action fantasy based on the mythology of dark demon gods who delight in destruction. The film’s elaborate sets and exquisite costumes beautifully capture the period and it is fun to see the depiction of kabuki performances which play a role in the drama. The film itself is reminiscent of a theatrical production, not only in the melodramatic plot and acting, but the way that scenes play out in small sets, similar to “Kwaidan” (1964). There is a sub-plot running throughout of a kabuki playwright who follows Izumo to get inspiration for what may be his greatest story yet. Perhaps because of these comedic interpolations the film occasionally lacks a sense of threat and urgency, partly alienating us from the drama. Takita’s previous film “When the Last Sword is Drawn”, also employed a framing device which distanced the audience from the action. The fight choreography is strong, with a great sequence early on in which the demon-wardens attempt to clear a town of its demonic inhabitants. The CG and visual effects are hit and miss, often unnecessary and undermining the incredible set design and the film is certainly strongest when the fantasy elements are depicted more subtly, such as the demon at the beginning who sings a melancholic tune, setting the scene for what is to follow.

Japan has a rich tradition of mythology, demon-lore, and fantasy tales to draw from and “Ashura” does a good job of bringing to life this epic of men versus the forces of evil. The central twist in the story is evident early on, but still provides some degree of tension as we contemplate what will happen to the characters when they find out. The most interesting character is Tsubaki, whose qualms over who or what she is affect our emotional involvement with the film. It questions the nature of evil and whether it can be overcome or halted by rationality or even love. “Ashura” will appeal to fantasy fans, with prophecies, witches, demon-hunters and demon gods, sword-fighting and romance capturing the best elements of the genre.

Matt Cooper Films

The Boy and the Heron (2023) by Hayao Miyazaki

When his mother is killed in a firebombing that destroys the hospital she was in, Mahito (Soma Santoki) and his father (Takuya Kimura) move from Tokyo to live with Mahito’s aunt Natsuko (Yoshino Kimura). While the Second World War continues, and despite his father’s work at a factory producing parts for fighter planes, and the recruitment drives in the local town, Mahito finds himself in a tranquil, rural paradise, grieving his mother’s death. Things are interupted when a grey heron (Masaki Suda) that lives on the estate begins talking to him and he discovers a mysterious tower in the grounds, overgrown and hidden by forest. He learns that his great-uncle (Shohei Hino), involved in dark magic, created the building that has since been sealed off. When his aunt goes missing in the vicinity of the tower, Mahito sets of to find her and is transported to a paralell world, where his great-uncle is the creator and anthropomorphic and militaristic parakeets rule the realm. Aided by a woman named Kiriko (Ko Shibasaki) and the heron, Mahito also finds a younger version of his mother (Aimyon), and tries to rescue them and return to his own world.

Writer-director Hayao Miyazaki’s latest film features many of the elements we’ve come to expect from Studio Ghibli, with the war-time setting reminiscent of “The Wind Rises” and a fantastical world akin to “Spirited Away”. The Japanese title “How do You Live?” is taken from a 1937 novel of that name by Genzaburo Yoshino. The novel appears briefly in the film, but the film’s plot is distinct from it. In essence the film is a simple tale of a boy attempting to come to terms with the death of his mother, while embodying the values and characteristics of a traditional hero in his unwavering attempts to save his family: bravery, compassion, and intelligence. The film has darker moments too, with the heron’s appearance being often accompanied by sinister proclamations, and a sequence in which Mahito is swarmed with frogs that completely engulf him. In short it is not a film for very young children, but those on the cusp of adolecence, with its messages about growth and coming-to-terms with the darker aspects of humanity. The animation is spellbinding, from the aforementioned frogs, to the magical creatures known as wara-wara and flocks of birds, the film has a vibrancy and kineticism that is exciting to see. The opening sequence, seen in flashback throughout, has an impressionistic feel, that perfectly captures the horror and confusion of the firebombing, perhaps mixed with Mahito’s own memories of this traumatic event. The score, by longterm collaborator Joe Hisaishi, of sparse, plaintive piano further heightens the sense of loss and loneliness of Mahito’s journey. The film’s more surreal moments, the otherworld being a place that often defies logic, give the sense that the whole alternate reality is a place of metaphor and meaning, less fantastical and more meta-physcal or psychological in aspect.

An incredible example of simple yet effective storytelling that balances comedy and tragedy, whimsy and dark emotional drama. The film leaves it to the audience to find their way through this often confusing mix of tones and styles, with elements such as the wara-wara being unborn children in the ‘real’ world, and the relationships between people Mahito has met and their doppelgangers in the otherworld. Similarly, while the references to war are minimal, they are clearly important as we see the fighter-plane cabins being lined up at Natsuko’s house. Whether there is a connection between the parakeet king and his army, or the anthropomorphic inhabitants of the magical world’s insatiable appetites, and the militarism of this period in Japanese history, again is left for the audience to puzzle out. “The Boy and the Heron” is a wonderful example of what films can do best, leave you with stunning visuals that provoke a deep emotional response without necessariliy explaining to you the whole meaning. As with the best art, it allows you to be carried along by the mystique and grandeur of the creation, raising questions about life, loss and spiritual growth.