Matt Cooper Films

Drifting Home (2022) by Hiroyasu Ishida

A group of children find themselves stranded in a derelict building floating through an endless ocean in this fantasy adventure tale. Kosuke (Mutsumi Tamura) and Natsume (Asami Seto) spent their childhood together in the same apartment block. Following the death of Kosuke’s grandfather Yasuji (Bin Shimada), the two have grown apart. As the summer holidays approach it seems that they are no closer to healing their relationship. Kosuke’s friends Taishi (Yumiko Kobayashi) and Yuzuru (Daiki Yamashita) drag him along on a ghost-hunting expedition in the now condemned apartments. They find Natsume hiding inside and are later joined by classmates Reina (Inori Minase) and Juri (Kana Hanazawa). During a storm the children are transported to a world where the only thing that remains is the building surrounded by a seemingly endless sea. They find another inhabitant of the apartment block named Noppo (Ayumu Murase) who seems to have a peculiar connection with the building. While they occasionally pass other floating buildings, there are no other people and the group begin to wonder if they will ever find their way home.

Directed by Hiroyasu Ishida, with a script by Ishida, Hayashi Mori and Minaka Sakamoto, “Drifting Home” is a simple yet effective children’s adventure tale, featuring magical elements, exciting action, and deeply emotional themes that will resonate with audiences young and old. The majority of the film takes place in the same block of apartments and other derelict buildings, with the cracked concrete overgrown with moss and weeds , exposed and rusted rebar, providing an impactful background for the story. Similar to the post-apocalyptic sunken cities of “Bubble” (2022), these spaces are recreated with details that make clear they have many stories of their own to tell. The film is also reminscent of “The Drifting Classroom” (1987), with its children lost in time and space, but here the actual mechanics of what is happening are more fairy-tale than science-fiction. The characters are enjoyable, with believable dynamics amongst the familiar stereotypes and entertaining conversations. This is helped by great voice acting, leaning into their exuberant, youthful joie de vivre. There is plenty of action too, with the computer-enhanced animation allowing for some amazing moments, such as the children climbing up the side of the building or ziplining across to a new rooftop, turning the commonplace structures into stone pirate ships. The incredible animation is bolstered by sound design that draws the audience into this world of pattering rain and crashing waves; and the score by Umitaro Abe is suitably epic, not shying away from the raw emotionality demanded by the story.

The film’s simplistic plot belies a depth of emotion and complexity in the interpersonal relationships between the characters. The reason for Kosuke and Natsume becoming friends, involving problems at home, and their falling out following Yasuji’s death, are both difficult issues for a children’s film to tackle, but are handled delicately. Running throughout the film is a melancholic atmosphere that is perhaps more likely to speak to an older audience. Noppo’s character, it is revealed partway through, is an anthropomorphic manifestation of the abandoned, condemned, building; one who yearns to be reunited with his former inhabitents, whose laughter made the building what it was. Perhaps the most tragic character in the story, there will be no salvation for Noppo, only resignation to his inevitable fate. The film asks us to contemplate what the places we are familiar with mean to us, do they posess a spirit or anima, that makes them more than simply a stage for our own lives. Noppo’s impending fate also symbolises for the characters their own loss of innocence and childhood’s inevitable end. As they move on with their lives, they are reminded of the importance of places that they know, and the very concept of ‘home’. “Drifting Home” manages to weave together a fun, action-packed story, with themes of environmental awareness and growing up.

Matt Cooper Anime, Films

Pycho-Pass: The Movie (2015) by Katsuyuki Motohiro

When a group of foreign terrorists arrive on Japanese soil, Inspector Akane Tsunemori (Kana Hanazawa) finds herself beginning an investigation that will once again force her to question the role of the Sibyl crime-prevention system in society. The leader of this group of terrorists appears to be Shinya Kogami (Tomokazu Seki), her former partner and Enforcer, who is now working with an anti-government group in the country of SEAUn. SEAUn has recently adopted the Sybil system, ostensibly in attempts to recreate the peace brought about in Japan by identifying people’s Hue (or crime coefficient). But when Tsunemori arrives in SEAUn she finds a sharply divided country, with the priveleged few living in an isolated hub known as Shambalah, and those with poor Hues consigned to live in the war-torn exterior of the country.

“Psychopass: The Movie” expands the world built in the anime series, taking things international with a backdrop of grand scale political intrigue and military struggle. The central plot remains familiar, with Tsunemori beginning another investigation, although this time with a more personal angle as she comes face to face with Kogami, who has been missing from Japan for several years. We are reintroduced to familiar characters, but once she sets off for SEAUn, Tsunemori is largely alone. With the constraints of a film narrative and run time, the story does feel a little simplistic compared to the more complex investigations of the series. It is clear early on where the story is going, and the plot serves mostly as a frame for hanging several fantastic action sequences. Given the new militaristic angle, we have a thrilling nighttime infiltration, questionable interrogation practices, and some fantastic hand-to-hand fights. The film also has a stark political message unclouded by nuance and Tsunemori’s character development is fascinating to watch, her belief in justice battling her disillusionment with elements of the system society has created to prevent crime.

In its depiction of SEAUn, “Psychopass: The Movie” shows the horror of powerful technology put into the wrong hands. It is a theme that has been raised in the series, but here we see the ultimate weakness of defining criminality based on psychological characteristics, or assigning a number to a complex issue. The contrasting, often hypocritical, depictions of war and crime in society are brought to light here. Many actions in war would be considered crimes in a civilised society, raising the question of why certain acts of violence are considered justified; or why we have different reactions to soldiers and murderers. The film also touches on the social ramifications of characterising crime as a behavioural error, as opposed to a social construct, and perhaps even necessary part of a functioning society. In the end we are forced to consider that what separates criminals from non-crimnals may be nothing more than their class or status in society, as opposed to any significant discrepancy in behaviour. “Pyscho-Pass: The Movie” is a fantastic film that repurposes the action and ideas of the Psycho-Pass franchise for an international political thriller.

Matt Cooper Anime, Television

Psycho-Pass 2 (2014)

Investigator Akane Tsunemori (Kana Hanazawa) heads up division one as they take on a new challenge in the shape of a mysterious figure intent on tearing society apart. Following an incident in which a fellow detective, Mizue Shisui (Marina Inoue) is kidnapped and her Dominator used to kill an Enforcer, the team uncover the villain Kamui Kirito (Ryohei Kimura), a figure who is able to keep his Hue clear while committing horrendous acts and who is recruiting others to his cause to confront the Sibyl system that controls their society. Along with the other memebers of Division One, Tsunemori faces down a sadistic foe while attempting to maintain her own unblemished character.

The first series of “Psycho-Pass” introduced us to this futuristic society where people are judged based on the colour, or Hue, of their characters, criminality being determined by a collective intelligence AI known as Sibyl. “Psycho-Pass 2” jumps straight into the action, assuming a foreknowledge of Investigators, Enforcers, Dominators, Hues, the Sibyl System, Holograms, and Drones, that are commonplace in this world. Instead Investigator Tsunemori, now more worldly wise following the preceding events, is given a new case and an intriguing mystery in the shape of Kamui. The series builds this investigation through the series, expertly introducing new clues, and delivers a series of thrilling confrontations as things progress. The script draws in elements from criminalistics, referencing Jeremy Bentham’s Panopticon, and philosophy, with discussions on the Omnipotence Paradox, creating a show that is both entertaining and thought-provoking about both potential futures of crime prevention and our current thinking about criminality.

The noirish shadows and sharp suited investigators not only make for a stylish crime drama, but emphasise the disconnect between a world in which crime coefficients can be calculated, in black and white, but where anxieties around a more grey morality are ever present. The series blends elements of science-fiction and gothic horror, technological advancements such as holograms and drones sit alongside the often brutal explosions of gore and terrifying moments of cruelty. The story uses these elements, contrasting primeval violence with the supposedly civilising qualities of science and progress.

Many of the ideas in Psycho-Pass 2 are carried over from the first series. The central question remains the legitimacy of the Sibyl system and its edicts on who is or is not a criminal. Again the show offers few easy answers. Despite the violence perpetrated by Kamui, there are also significant issues with the implementation of a system that applies numbers to people’s ‘criminality’. A second theme the series discusses is the notion of proxy criminality, taken to an extreme by having people unwittingly controlling deadly weapons while believing they are interacting with a harmless online game. This further highlights the problems with a society that judges only those directly involved with crime, ignoring those whose involvement is indirect, or who may unknowingly be causing harm. A fantastic follow up to the first series that delivers on all the elements that made it so enjoyable while introducing several new ideas an a complex central mystery.

Matt Cooper Anime

Psycho-Pass (2012) Series One

Akane Tsunemori (Kana Hanazawa) has recently joined the police as an Investigator tracking down dangerous criminals. Due to advances in technology they are now able to determine an individual’s crime coefficient and take them down without the need for evidence or trial. The Investigators work together with Enforcers, people who have high crime coefficients but work on the side of the law, whose criminal tendencies make them ideally suited to tracking and capturing other criminals. They use guns known as Dominators, which give a reading and will allow either a paralysing or fatal shot to be taken. Among the Enforcers in Akane’s unit is Shinya Kogami (Tomokazu Seki), a man who was once an investigator himself, but whose obsession over a particular case led him to tip over into criminality. Akane’s respect for him puts her at odds with her superior investigator Ginoza (Kenji Nojima), who believes that Enforcers and Investigators are fundamentally different and that her role should be more that of a handler than a colleague. They soon find themselves on the trail of a serial killer named Shogo Makishima (Takahiro Sakurai) who appears to be able to outwit them at every turn. His apparent lack of a crime rating also leads them to question the morality of deciding right and wrong based on the “crime coefficient”.

An intelligent crime drama, “Psycho-Pass” takes theories of criminalistics and forensic psychology to their natural conclusion in a futuristic setting. In deciding that people can be categorised as criminal or innocent through a simple number based on various factors, society has given itself over to notions of right and wrong being determined by computer. In this world there is no room for nuance. There are no crimes of passion, crimes of necessity or opportunity, only crimes. The calculation of this number is opaque, nevertheless the police force have completely prostrated themselves before the technology – and the all-powerful Sibil System that controls it – no longer trusting their own judgement of a person’s character. As well as this criminological aspect, there is also a more philosophical theme running throughout. The notion that people are fated to be a certain way, and that in fact the moral or right path for a person is to do that thing they feel most suited for, even if that involves crime or killing. Essentially, the technology has taken away people’s free will as they are forced into behaving exactly as the machine wants them to, whether right or wrong. As the series progresses the various flaws in this seemingly utopian system become apparent. Ideas of good and evil are subject to question and various revelations regarding the characters leads the viewer to reassess what they have perceived about this world. In Makishima, the series has a villain that is a perfect foil to the protagonists. While they are bound to the law, he is entirely lawless, perhaps even in a Nietzschean sense “Beyond Good and Evil”, believing that the only moral path for a person is to do what they wish or are best at. A secondary villain emphasises this point even more, that criminality is often a matter of context; psychopathy often being a useful aberration in human populations, perhaps the desire to confront and destroy pre-existing systems being a necessity for humankind to progress.

The animation by Production IG (Ghost in the Shell) is exceptional. Textured surfaces, background details and lighting effects all help to create the sense of a real world. Likewise, weather effects such as the pouring rain in the opening episode, or wind rustling coat collars, work towards the noirish feel. There are a number of technologies in the film, such as the avatars that characters can create around themselves, that are interesting additions to the world. The visualisation of online spaces is also well done with unique character designs. The series does not shy away from depicting violent and brutal crimes, with abuse and murder both graphically portrayed. This all helps to create a sense of dread that pervades the story. You are aware early on that there really are lives at stake if the detectives fail to catch the killer. An absolutely thrilling ride from start to finish, with high-tension action sequences and a story that goes headlong for several important questions about how society is managed. A blend of all the best elements of cyberpunk and noir detective stories, with themes of criminality and societal control that encourage the audience to think about the potential implications of these things on our own world.