Another Glimpse at the Yayoi Kusama documentary Princess of Polka Dots

Filmmakers Heather Lenz and Karen Jonson are sharing another glimpse at their documentary in progress Kusama: Princess of Polka Dotswhich examines the life and career of the extraordinary artist Yayoi Kusama.  Today they posted a new video on Youtube:

This 7-minute clip was put together for the Kusama retrospective at the Tate Modernin London (9 February – 5 June 2012).  I have been impatient to see this film since I first discovered their 2007 trailer:

However, it would seem that they are still trying to raise enough tax-deductible donations to cover the costs of archival image licensing and the cost of post-production.  You can support this promising documentary by donating money here.  If they can secure financing they hope to get the film out to festivals sometime this year.

I also learned this week through a posting on Brainpickingsthat Kusama has illustrated Alice in Wonderland.  A brilliant pairing of art and fiction which has gone directly onto my birthday wishlist for this year:

Reel Cuisine: Blockbuster Dishes from the Silver Screen

The films of Naomi Ogigami (Seagull Diner, Glasses) turned me into a fan of the food stylist Nami Iijima (飯島奈美, b. 1969).  As I wrote in Nami Iijima: Food Stylist Extraordinaire, in addition to her work styling food for great films like Chef of the South Pole and Villon’s Wife, Iijima has made a name for herself in Japan as a celebrity chef.  She has written many wonderful cookbooks such as Breakfast Menu (Asagohan no Kondate) and Life: Iijima Nami’s Homemade Taste (LIFE Nandemonai Hi, Omedetou! Gohan).

I was delighted to discover late last year that Iijima’s recipes have become available in English via the American publisher Vertical – an imprint that I associate with manga.  They publish English translations of Osamu Tezuka’s Black Jack and Buddha.   It turns out that Vertical also translates cookbooks, novels, and other miscellanea. 

Reel Cuisine: Blockbuster Dishes from the Silver Screen is based on Nami Iijima’s column Cinema Shokudo (シネマ食堂) which she wrote for AERA magazine between 2007-9.  Many of the recipes also featured in the Japanese book based on this column and also called Cinema Shokudo (2009).  Both books feature photography by Elina Yamasaki.   

When it first came in the post I was initially disappointed by how slim the volume is – I collect cookbooks and I like them big and bulky and full of lovely illustrations or photographs.  There is no introduction explaining who Iijima is, which clearly confused one reviewer of the cookbook.  This would have been useful as the films that Iijima has worked on have only played at festivals in North America and have not been released there on DVD. 

The first section of the book consists of recipes from films that Iijima worked on.  Each recipe is accompanied by a brief explanation of the context of the food in the film.  At the back of the book, there is some text from Iijima’s “Work Diary” that explain how she works with food and give an idea of the thought process that goes into designing food and settings for the food during film production. 

The rest of the book contains recipes from world and Hollywood cinema.  In them Iijima recreates meals that she has seen in movies.  In her short introduction (which is more like a preface) she writes that her favourite genre of film is the “slice of life” movie.  Her cinematic tastes are varied from quirky independent cinema to classics to popular Japanese and Hollywood fare.  As I associate her with modern Japanese cuisine, it was fascinating to learn that Iijima delights in the challenges of world cuisine from zha jiang mian (Chinese fried noodles in sauce) to pot-au-feu (French beef stew). 

To the North American reader, some of the recipes may seem quite ordinary – scrambled eggs from Misery and sandwiches from The War of the Roses – but one must recall that these recipes were originally written for a Japanese readership who would be more likely to have a bowl of rice with grilled salmon for breakfast and onigiri (rice balls) for a packed lunch.  Those staples of Japanese cooking are also here – with wonderful little notes from the chef.  For example, the recipe for onigiri from Iijima’s first movie Seagull Diner features the little note: “My name, Nami, apparently means ‘delicious’ in Finnish.  Rice balls filled with herring and crayfish were very ‘nami’ indeed.”  (p. 16)

Apart from the lack of introduction to Iijima herself, my only criticism of the book is that it doesn’t include more of Iijima’s commentary on the films and the reasons why she chose a particular dish from each film.  The best recipes are the ones that have this additional text.  For example, the Comics Worth Reading reviewer of this book wondered why Iijima gives us a recipe for fried chicken instead of the titular fried green tomatoes of the popular 1991 film starring Mary Stuart Masterson, Jessica Tandy, Kathy Bates, and Mary-Louise Parker.  Reel Cuisine only gives a mini film synopsis with the recipe.  However, in her AERA column, Iijima explains that due to the lack of commercial availability of green tomatoes in Japan she decided to teach her readers about fried chicken – a staple of the southern United States.  Fried chicken is a popular treat in Japan as well – but the spices used in the recipe would be different. 

Iijima’s recipes are not authentically from the movies she has selected – each one has her own particular take on the dish.  So the fried chicken recipe calls for sake – which I am sure was not on set during the filming of Fried Green Tomatoes.  If you want the original recipe, I advise purchasing the original novel by Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café by Fannie Flagg as it contains recipes (or even the accompanying cookbook).  I recall trying those recipes when the movie came out and failing miserably as I did not have the ingredients or the technique needed.  Iijima has simplified the fried chicken recipe and made it easy for the average home cook.

This book a tribute to food in the movies written by a movie lover and chef.  The recipes have been adapted to North American measuring standards and are written in a clear and concise manner.  There are lots of practical tips and interesting ideas that I would never have thought of myself.  It's a fun little book for cinephiles like me.

Catherine Munroe Hotes 2012

Here is a list of the food/movies included:

Food for Film

Chirashi sushi (Glasses, Naoko Ogigami, Japan, 2007)

Napoli Egg (Handsome Suit, Tsutomu Hanabusa, Japan, 2008)

Chicken Nuggets (Chef of the South Pole, Shūichi Okita, Japan, 2009)

Boiled Tripe (Villon’s Wife, Kichitaro Negishi, Japan, 2009)

Rice Balls (Seagull Diner, Naoko Ogigami, Japan, 2006)

Cinamon Rolls (Seagull Diner, Naoko Ogigami, Japan, 2006)

Noriben (Nonchan Noriben, Akira Ogata, Japan, 2009)

Travel the World

Fried Chicken (Fried Green Tomatoes, Jon Avnet, USA, 1991)

Hamburgers (Transamerica, Duncan Tucker, USA, 2005)

Hummus (Tuesdays with Morrie, Mick Jackson, USA, 1999)

Norimaki (The Man Without a Past, Aki Kauismäki, Finland, 2002)

Silken Crab with Vegetables (Eat Drink Man Woman, Ang Lee, Taiwan, 1994)

Pot-au-Feu (Overboard, Gary Marshall, USA, 1987)

Mojito (Volver, Pedro Almodóvar, Spain, 2006)

Fish and Chips (Dear Frankie, Shona Auerbach,UK, 2004)

Water Spinach Stir Fry (The Scent of Green Papaya, Tran Anh Hung, Vietnam/France, 1993)

Paella (Blame it on Fidel!, Julie Gavras, France, 2006)

Yakiniku Korean BBQ (Rough Cut, Jang Hun, South Korea, 2008)

Jeon and Porridge (The King and the Clown, Lee Jun-ik, South Korea, 2005)

Popcorn (Welcome to Dongmakgol, Park Kwang-hyun, South Korea, 2005)

Happy Brunch

Spaghetti with Tomato Sauce (The Godfather Part III, Francis Ford Coppola, USA, 1990)

Ratatouille (Ratatouille, Brad Bird, USA, 2007)

French Toast (Kramer vs. Kramer, Robert Benton, USA, 1979)

Quiche (Waitress, Adrienne Shelly, USA, 2007)

Scrambled Eggs (Misery, Rob Reiner, USA, 1990)

Pancakes (The Notebook, Nick Cassavetes, USA, 2004)

Baked Potatoes (Juno, Jason Reitman, USA, 2007)

Green Salad (Cinema Paradiso, Guiseppe Tonatore, Italy, 1988)

Yakisoba with Clams (The Shoe Fairy, Yun Chan Lee, Taiwan, 2005)

Egg Over Rice (Kabei: Our Mother, Yoji Yamada, Japan, 2008)

Fried Rice (Tampopo, Juzo Itami, Japan, 1985)

Spaghetti Risotto (Mostly Martha, Sandra Nettelbeck, Germany, 2001)

Zha Jiang Mian (Shower, Zhang Yang, China, 1999)

Vegetable Potage (Rinco’s Restaurant, Mai Tominaga, Japan, 2010)

Penne in Cream Sauce (The Unknown Woman, Guiseppe Tornatore, Italy, 2006)

Spaghetti Vongole (The Big Blue, Luc Besson, France, 1988)

Kidney Bean Soup (Red Like the Sky, Cristiano Bortone, Italy, 2006)

Delicious Family Dinners

Risotto (Big Night, Campbell Scott/Stanley Tucci, USA, 1996)

Guacamole (Bridget Jones’s Diary, Sharon Maguire, UK, 2001)

Sautéed Salmon (Life is Beautiful, Roberto Benigni, Italy, 1997)

Loco Moco (Finding Forrester, Gus Van Sant, USA, 2000)

Roasts Chicken (Miracle on 34^thStreet, George Seaton, USA, 1947)

Sandwiches (The War of the Roses, Danny DeVito, USA, 1989)

Roast Beef (The World According to Garp, George Roy Hill, USA, 1982)

Macaroni and Cheese (Soul Food, George Tillman, Jr., USA, 1997)

Steak (My Date With Drew, Jon Gunn/Brian Herlinger/Brett Winn, USA, 2004)

Mushroom Dumplings (The Road Home, Zhang Yimou, China, 1999)

Burritos (The Jane Austen Book Club, Robin Swicord, USA, 2007)

Grilled Fish (Paris, Cédric Klapisch, France, 2008)

Samosas (The Namesake, Mia Nair, USA/India, 2006)

Spring Rolls (Happily Ever After, Yvan Attal, France, 2004)

Oden (Tora-san Plays Daddy, Yoji Yamada, Japan, 1987)

Sukiyaki (Always: Sunset on Third Street, Takashi Yamazaki, Japan, 2005)

Curry (All Around Us, Ryosuke Hashiguchi, Japan, 2008)

Corn Fritters and Edamame Rice (Still Walking, Hirokazu Koreeda, Japan, 2008)

Ochazuke (The Flavour of Green Tea over Rice, Yasujiro Ozu, Japan, 1952)

Cinematic Sweets

Apple Pie (The Shawshank Redeption, Frank Darabont, USA, 1994)

Banana Cake (Stanger than Fiction, Marc Forster, USA, 2006)

Chiffon Cake (The Secret Life of Bees, Gina Prince-Blythwood, USA, 2008)

Love Cake (Donkey Skin, Jacques Demy, France, 1970)

Truffles (Chocolat, Lasse Hallström, USA/UK, 2000)

Crème Brûlée (Amélie,Jean-Pierre Jeunet, France, 2001)

Birthday Cake (Kitchen Stories, Bent Hamer, Norway/Sweden, 2003)

Iced Azuki (Glasses, Naoko Ogigami, Japan, 2007)

Lord of Chaos: The Cinema of Sono Sion (2011)

Lord of Chaos: The Cinema of Sono Sion

Il signore del chaos: Il cinema di Sono Sion

In December, the 29th Torino Film Festival (TFF, 25 November – 3 December 2011) honoured Sion Sono by featuring his oeuvre in their Rapporto confidenziale(Confidential Report) section.  This annual programme aims to take note of emerging auteurs, genres, and other trends in international cinema. 

In honouring Sono, TFF describes him as an “eccentric and mesmerizing Japanese poet, novelist and director” whose works had never before been screened in Italian cinemas.   They go on to call him a “visionary” and a “provocative and dynamic filmmaker.  .  .  [who] mixes mixes psychoanalysis and Grand Guignol, melodrama and pop culture, horror and politics, serial killers and dark ladies.” (source)

In addition to presenting almost all of Sono’s films, TFF teamed up with the Italian blog Sonatine: Appunti sul cinema giapponese contemporaneo (Sonatine: Notes on contemporary Japanese cinema) to publish a book of essays and film reviews called Il signore del chaos: Il cinema di Sono Sion (Lord of Chaos: The Cinema of Sono Sion).

The book is edited by Dario Tomasiand Franco Picollo and features the writing of not only the editors but also Claudia Bertolè, Matteo Boscarol, Luca Calderini, Giacomo Calorio, Emanuela Martini, Grazia Paganelli, and Fabio Rainelli.  The cover features a photograph of the director taken at TFF.  The book includes a complete filmography with titles in Japanese/romaji/English/ Italian

For non-Italian speakers, I recommend checking out the Sonatine website using Google Translate.  As Italian sentence structure is very similar to English it is quite readable – unlike the bizarre world of Google JP to EN!!  Check out the following reviews on Sonatine:

1984   Rabu songu (Love Song)

1985   Ore wa Sono Sion da! (I Am Sono Sion!)
1986   Ai (Love)
1986   Otoko no hanamichi (Man's Flower Road) 

1988   Kessen!Joshiryō tai danshiryō (Decisive Match! Girls Dorm Against Boys Dorm)
1990   Jitensha toiki (Bicycle Sighs) 
1992   Heya (The Room)

1997   Keiko desu kedo (I Am Keiko / It's Me Keiko)
1998   Dankon - The Man (Dankon: The Man)

2000   Utsushimi (Utsushimi)

2002   Jisatsu sākuru (Suicide Club)

2005   Yume no naka e (Into a Dream)
2005   Kimyōna sākasu (Strange Circus)

2006   Hazard (Hazard)

2006   Noriko no shokutaku (Noriko's Dinner Table)

2006   Kikyū kurabu, sono go (Balloon Club).

2007   Exte (Exte: Hair Extensions)
2009   Ai no mukidashi (Love Exposure)
2009   Chanto tsutaeru (Be Sure to Share), 2009

2010   Tsumetai nettaigyo (Cold Fish)

2011   Koi no tsumi (Guilty of Romance)

2011   Himizu (Himizu)

Catherine Munroe Hotes 2012 

Muybridge's Strings Flip Books (マイブリッジの糸 フリップブック, 2011)

Fans of Kōji Yamamura who live outside of Japan may not be aware that it has become a tradition for the great animator to publish a book tie-in along with his latest film releases.  For Kafuka Inaka Isha, he published a slim, hardcover illustrated storybook edition of Franz Kafka's acclaimed short story A Country Doctor in Japanese translation.  


For his latest animated masterpiece Muybridge’s Strings (マイブリッジの糸, 2011), Yamamura and his publishers came up with the ingenious idea of creating  flip book tie-ins.  According to the introduction,  Yamamura wanted to create a book that would reflect the temporal themes of the animation.  Although I have not yet seen it, I have read that Muybridge's Strings employs a parallel editing structure that interweaves a story from the past (the time of Muybridge) with a story set in the present.  

Front covers: book slipcases, flip books, info booklet 

There are two complementary flip books available: (マイブリッジの糸I and マイブリッジの糸II).  They are published in a format of 13x8cm and consist of a slipcase and flip book in full colour, accompanied by a monochrome paper booklet.  When the front covers of both slipcases are pushed together (top photograph) they form the full length poster for the film.

Back covers: book slipcases, flip books, info booklet

Each flip book features a series of images on the right-hand side pages and transcribed music from the film by Normand Roger and J.S. Bach on each facing page.  The pages are of two different alternating lengths which means that once you have flipped through one side of the book, you can turn the book over and flip through a different series of images.  This forward and backward structure is also drawn from the animated short which references J.S. Bach's Crab Canon - a clever piece of music which is the musical equivalent of a palindrome.  It is best scene and heard, so I recommend checking out this helpful explanatory video.

Info booklets

Both flip books are accompanied by the same information booklet.  It features an introduction by Yamamura as well as an interview with him about not only the flip books but also the making of this Japanese-Canadian (NFB/NHK/Polygon) co-production.  See all photos on Google Plus or Facebook.  Even if you cannot read Japanese, these books are a visual delight and a must-have for collectors of independent animation.

Catherine Munroe Hotes 2011

ISBN 978-4-89194-909-9
ISBN 978-4-89194-910-5

Order the Flip Books today:

Muybridge no Ito 1  [Flip Book]

Muyvridge no Ito 2  [Flip Book]

MOM Productions and the Making of Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer

It’s the Christmas season again and my children have already watched our DVD of the 1964 stop motion animation of Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964) half a dozen times.  I never tire of watching this Christmas special which was something I looked forward to watching on TV every year when I was a child.  The characters have clearly been lovingly brought to life by the hand of some animator.

As I reported last year in my post Rankin/Bass Christmas Specials: Made in Japan, Rudolf and many other animated Christmas specials produced by Rankin/Bass were animated in Japan.  Rudolf is an early example of an international co-production for television.  The production, concept, and screenwriting were all done by Americans.  Apart from the star, Burl Ives, the voice acting was all done in Canada.  The stop motion “Animagic” was subcontacted to Tadahito “Tad” Mochinaga’s MOM Production studios – a place where many animators including the great Tadanari Okamoto got their start.  Rick Goldschmidt’s The Enchanted World of Rankin/Bass tantalizingly offered up a few tidbits about MOM Productions, but I could not afford his book about the making of Rudolph.  Fortunately, he released The Making of the Rankin/Bass Holiday Classic: Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer Kindle edition this year.  It gives the answers to a lot of questions I had about the production, and provides highly detailed testimonies from former MOM Productions employees.

A few of the nuggets of information about the production:

• Arthur Rankin supervised the production in Japan while Jules Bass was responsible for the production outside of Japan.  This meant that it was rare for people working on Rudolph to see both men together.

• There are two conflicting stories about how Rankin discovered Mochinaga.  One is that he saw Mochinaga’s Little Black Sambo at the Vancouver International Film Festival in 1958 and contacted Mochinaga about making TV series The New Adventures of Pinocchio (130x5 minute episodes).  The other story Rankin tells is that he was invited to Tokyo in 1958 by a trade delegate called Minoru Kawamoto and one of the studios they visited belonged to Mochinaga. (note: date typo amended 26 Dec 2011)

• I had long wondered about the role of Kizo Nagashima, who is listed as a director in the credits of the Rudolph.  I could not find any evidence of Nagashima as an animator or a director online.  Goldschmidt solves this mystery by reporting that Nagashima “was an elderly gentleman who supervised the business affairs of the Tokyo studio.  Perhaps due to Japanese traditions of respect, he was given a prominent creative credit.  However, the credit was entirely honorary, as Tadahito Mochinaga was undeniably in charge of the entire animation process.” 

• Mochinaga began animation in 1938 at Geijutsu Eigasha (芸術映画社 aka GES/ゲス).  [This isn’t in Goldschmidt’s book but Mochinaga spent much of the war and the years following working for an animation studio in China].  When he returned to Japan after the war (c. 1953), Mochinaga started up his own studio.  He formed MOM Productions in 1960 with many of his old colleagues from GES in order to make puppet animation for Rankin/Bass.

• Assistant animation director Hiroshi Tabata recalls that he and Mochinaga took the 10 hour sleeper train from Tokyo to Nara to see the famous sika deer in Nara National Park.  The spent two days observing the movements of the deer in order to prepare for the animation of Rudolph.  The animation studios were housed in a building that had previously been used to test engines for fighter planes.

• Ichiro “Pin-chan” Komuro was the puppet maker for Rudolph.  He used the wood of the Katsura tree (カツラ/ Cercidiphyllum japonicum) for Rudolph’s head and torso.  The head was carved out to make it lighter and therefore easier to control during animation.  The joints of the puppets were made of lead and copper wire which were padded with cotton and polyurethane.  The antlers were formed using polyurethane.  Rudolph’s eyelids and irises were made using finely shaved leather.  Rudolph’s exterior was made of thick-piled white wool that they dyed themselves.  The hooves were made of wood and had 1mm holes drilled in them in order to affix the hooves to the sets using pins.

• The biggest problem during production was the fight to keep the puppets and sets from collecting dust and dirt.  The animators all wore white gloves, and the figures were sprayed with a magnetic spray flock to diffuse reflections for the camera.  The most difficult sets and puppets to keep clean were the white ones. 

Goldschmidt’s book is a must-read for fans of stop motion animation and Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer.  Add the Kindle edition to your holiday reading:

Learn more about Rankin/Bass Productions on Goldschmidt's blog or in his book:

Animated People in Photo (Takashi Namiki, 2000)

ORDER NOW

1975 was a decisive year in the life of Takashi Namiki, the animation producer, historian and the chairman of Anido (read his profile here).  Kihachirō Kawamoto invited Namiki to go to the Annecy International Animated Film Festival with him.  It was not only his first trip abroad, but also the first time attending such a large festival dedicated to animation.  He’d attended and organized animation screenings before, but this one week at Annecy “was like a dream.”  To have so many people gathered together who shared his enthusiasm for the art of animation caused him to feel strangely elated.

At the time “manga eiga,” as animation was then known, was not held in such high esteem in Japan.  Before going to Annecy, Namiki felt that he was the only one who truly understood animation as an art.  This notion was shattered completely at Annecy.  To learn that there were so many people interested in animation as an art and to discover so many wonderful animated works at Annecy was an inspiration to Namiki.

In 2000, Namiki published a photographic chronicle of his friendship with the “animated people” of the world called Animated People in Photo.  It documents the faces of animators, directors, historians, producers, and the organizers of animation festivals that Namiki met during the 25 years since that first festival in Annecy. 

At Annecy 1975, Namiki could not speak the language and he didn’t know anybody yet, so he wandered around and took photographs.  The photograph that he is most proud of is of the great pinscreen animation pioneer Alexandre Alexeieff (1901-1982), who had shot to fame in 1931 with the film he made with his wife Claire Parker Night on Bald Mountain (Une nuit sur le mont Chauve).  The photograph opens the collection and is indeed one of the best photographs that Namiki shares with us in this book.  Other favourites of mine include a shot of Kawamoto chatting with legendary stop motion animator Karel Zeman at Annecy 1987, Barry Purves with chopsticks in Tokyo in 1995, Břetislav Pojar at Hiroshima 1985, a young  Hayao Miyazaki in some kind of a truck or van outside Shin-Akitsu Station in 1979, anime pioneer Kenzō Masaoka in his home (Tokyo, 1978), Les Drew at NFB Studios (Montréal, 1990), stop motion animation pioneer Tadahito Mochinaga at Hiroshima 1998, Ward Kimball doing an impression of Charlie Chaplin while holding a figurine of Chaplin (LA, 1991), legendary Chinese animator Te Wei (Tokyo, 1981), Yasuji Mori in front of his home (Tokyo, 1992), and Yasuo Otsuka in a Parisian antique shop (1999).  The photograph of the author himself at Annecy 1975 was taken by Kawamoto and is also one of the best photographs of the bunch.

Animated People can be ordered online from Anido.  The photos are not printed on glossy paper, but still look reasonably good.  This is a must-have collection for the animation aficionado – though it’s hard to beat Namiki as a collector: his private archive boasts over 5,000 films and many relics of early animation.  The afterword by Namiki is only in Japanese, as are the profiles of the people photographed, but the photographs are all labelled in English.  

Here is a complete list of the people included in the book by country:

Belgium: Raoul Servais (b. 1928), Véronique Steeno (b. 1950)

Brazil: Marcos Magalhães (b.1958)

Canada: Frédéric Back (b. Germany, 1924), Ishu Patel (b. India, 1942), Jacques Drouin (b. 1943), Les Drew, Wendy Tilby (b. 1960)

China:  Yan Ding Xian (b. 1936), Shuchen Wang (1931–1991), Te Wei (1915-2010)

Croatia: Joško Marušić (b. 1952)

Czech Republic: Břetislav Pojar (b. 1923), Jan Švankmajer (b. 1934), Jiří Barta (b. 1948), Karel Zeman (1910-89), Michaela Pavlátová (b. 1961), Pavel Procházka, Pavel Koutský (b. 1957), Vlasta Pospíšilová (b.1935)

England: Barry Purves (b. 1955), Bob Godfrey (b. 1921), Brothers Quay (b. 1947), John Halas (b. Hungary, 1912-95), Mark Baker (b. 1959), Nick Park (b. 1958)

Estonia: Borivoj Dovniković (b. 1930), Priit Pärn (b. 1946)

France: Alexandre Alexeieff (1901-82), Bernard Palacios (b. 1947), Jean-Luc Xiberras (1941-98), Jean-François Laguionie (b. 1939), Michel Ocelot (b. 1967), Nicole Salomon, Paul Grimault (1905-94)

Germany: Bärbel Neubauer (b. Austria), Marec Fritzinger

Holland: Paul Driessen (b. 1940)

Hungary: Csaba Varga (b. 1945), Edit Bleier, Eva M. Tóth, Ferenc Mikulás (b. 1940), Gizella Neuberger (b. 1953), József Gémes (b. 1939), Mária Horváth, Péter Szoboszlay, Szilágyi Varga Zoltán (b. 1951)

Israel: Edward Herscovitz (b. Egypt, 1921-2006)

Italy: Bruno Bozzetto (b. 1938), Giannalberto Bendazzi (b. 1946)

Japan: Fusako Yusaki (b. 1937, works in Italy), Hayao Miyazaki (b.1941), Isao Takahata (b. 1935), Kazuko Komatsubara (1943-2000), Takamura Mukuo (1938-92), Osamu Tezuka (1928), Kihachiro Kawamoto (1925-2010),  Yoji Kuri (b. 1928), Yoichi Kotabe (b. 1936), Yasuo Otsuka (b. 1931), Tadanari Okamoto (1932-1990), Yasuji Mori (1925-92), Norio Hikone (b. 1936), Taku Furukawa (b. 1941),  Syo Yoshimura, Ryotaro Kuwata, Goro Sugimoto (1924-87), Tadahito Mochinaga (1919-99), Shinichi Suzuki (b. 1933), Seiichi Hayashi (b. 1945), Kazuhide Tomonaga (b. 1952), Yoshinori Kanada (1952-2009), Kenzo Masaoka (1898-1988), Masao Kumagawa (1916-2008)

New Zealand: Bob Stenhouse

Poland: Aleksandra Korejwo

Russia: Aleksandr Petrov (b. 1957), Fyodor Khitruk (b. 1917), Garri Bardin (b. 1941), Igor Kovalyov (b. 1963, working in the USA), Yuri Norstein (b. 1941)

Switzerland: Bruno Edera, Georges Schwizgebel (b. 1944)

USA: Bob Kurtz, Caroline Leaf (b. 1946), Charles Solomon, Chuck Jones (1912-2002), Frank Thomas (1912-2004), Jimmy Murakami (b. 1933), Joan C. Gratz, Marc Davis (1913-2000), Myron Waldman (1908-2006), Ray Harryhausen (b. 1920), Renya Onasick, Ward Kimball (1914-2002), Will Vinton (b. 1947)

Author & Editor : Takashi Namiki

All Photo by Takashi Namiki

Illustration : Masahiro Katayama

First Edition : June 2000

size: A5 (H210×W148mm) 112P/ Hardcover

94 photos are all monochrome

Hayao Miyazaki’s Taste in Animation

 

Over the past couple of months I have been reading Hayao Miyazaki’s Starting Point, 1979-1996 (VIZ Media, 2009). It is the English translation of Miyazaki’s collected writings from this period. It includes magazine articles, speeches, production planning notes and memoranda, sketch diaries, and other items sure to delight Studio Ghibli fans.

I was surprised to discover how decidedly Miyazaki gives his opinions on animation and animators. Occasionally, his remarks are downright gossipy – such as when he relates the embarrassing drunken escapades of animator Yasuo Otsuka (The Castle of Cagliostro, Panda Kopanda) or calling Isao Takahata (whom he affectionately calls Paku-san) the "descendent of a giant sloth". In the afterword, Takahata admits to his slothful tendencies, especially when compared to Miyazaki who lives up to the meaning of his given name (ie. “fast”). Miyazaki’s criticism of others is counterbalanced by his acknowledgement of his own weakness, such as admitting that he left his wife to her own devices when it came to raising their children and that as a young apprentice under Yasuji Mori he could be “confrontational, impudent, and insolent.” (205)

Part of the reason for Miyazaki’s initial impudence towards Mori was that he felt that his style of animating was out of date. Mori, who was also a mentor to Otsuka, Norio Hikone, Reiko Okuyama, and Yoichi Kotabe, was a famed illustrator and during his time at Toei Doga he was responsible for many popular characters and beautiful animation sequences in films like The Legend of the White Snake (1958) and The Little Prince and the Eight-Headed Dragon (1963). Miyazaki writes that it took him many years to really appreciate what Mori had taught him and that his epiphany came during a screening of the final cut of Hols: Prince of the Sun (1968) – a film which moved him to tears.

The Astonishing Work of Tezuka Osamu (US)

Most startling are Miyazaki’s negative remarks about Osamu Tezuka which were published in Comic Box shortly after Tezuka’s death in 1989. Anticipating that the magazine would be full of praise for the “father of manga” and “godfather of anime”, Miyazaki voices his dissatisfaction with many of Tezuka’s animated works. While Miyazaki knows that Tezuka’s style – particularly his manga from the period 1945-1955 – influenced him greatly when he was a young artist starting out, he was not a fan of Tezuka’s animation. He found it too pessimistic and even expresses having felt disgust when he watched films like Mermaid (1964), The Drop (1965), Tales of a Street Corner (1962), Pictures at an Exhibition (1966), and Cleopatra (1970). Miyazaki even bemoans the fact that Astro Boy set the bar so very low in terms of cost – meaning that anime productions ever since have suffered from low budgets. He believes that TV anime was destined to start in Japan with or without Tezuka: “Without Tezuka, the industry might have started two or three years later. And then I could have relaxed a bit and spent a little longer working in the field of feature animation, using more traditional techniques. But that’s all irrelevant now” (196). I think Miyazaki’s main gripe is that the lower budgets meant artistic sacrifices and lowered the quality of the animation.

Osamu Tezuka was not the only animator to be criticized by Miyazaki. Here are some of the highlights of Miyazaki’s animation likes and dislikes:

On the endings of The Snow Queen (Lev Atamov, et al., 1957), La Bergère et le Ramoneur (Paul Grimault, 1952), and The Tale of the White Serpent (Taiji Yabushita/Kazuhiko Okabe, 1958):

I know I shouldn’t criticize others, but why do the final scenes of cartoon movies always have to be so ridiculous? This was true of The Snow Queen; its ending was that film’s greatest flaw. And the ending of La Bergère et le Ramoneur makes it look like the production staff went out to have a wrap party. Not only that, at the ending of The Tale of the White Serpent, Bai-Niang looks truly stupid. . . (118)

Mr. Bug Goes to Town

Studio Ghibli/Disney release

On Mr. Bug Goes to Town (Dave Fleischer, 1941)

“I like Fleischer works. And when I say “Fleischer”, I do not mean Dave Fleischer the individual, but the whole animation staff. . . In fact, I had a strong sense that Mr. Bug Goes to Town was a work that might not have even been created or animated by Dave Fleischer. This was the first of the problems that I had.”

“Several of the Popeye films are absolutely first-rate, whereas Mr. Bug Goes to Town is only second rate”

 “. . . Mr. Bug Goes to Town is both wonderful and incredibly stupid. People say Dave Fleischer created it, but I would like to extend my heartfelt greetings and congratulations to the nameless staff members who managed to crawl their way out of his control. . . I do wonder where they went. They probably scattered throughout the industry, lost their powers, and either went through a masturbatory period of creating Fleischer’s Superman, or disappeared into doing work on not particularly memorable films.” (115-19)

The Man Who Planted Trees - Works of Frederic Back

On Frédéric Back’s The Man Who Planted Trees:

“Even were I not involved in animation, I still would have thought I had seen something wonderful when I saw this film. This is a powerful work that couldn’t have been made halfheartedly. . . My hat goes off to Back for giving such a wonderful form to this motif by using such an expressive medium as animation. Even more, I offer my deepest admiration to those at the SRC/CBC who funded such an obviously non-commercial work.” (143)

“The first film that I saw was Crac! Isao Takahata. . . and I saw it on a double bill. . . It was a shock to both of us. As we trudged home, I remember saying to Takahata-san: ‘So, I guess we are failures, aren’t we. . .’” (144)

“In the cel animation production we are currently working on, we’ve found drawing plants to be very difficult. If we draw just the plants waving in the breeze, it looks so formulaic. Plants exist in the weather and light rays that surround them – wavering in the wind, shimmering in the sunlight. I am always puzzling over how to draw such things. I’ve given up and resigned myself to realizing that we can’t draw plants with our usual techniques. But Back has taken this problem head on and mastered it. . . His imagery is beautiful.” (144-45)

“I was moved when I watched this film. In the same way that I feel about Yuri Norstein.” (146)

Osamu Tezuka Jikken animation sakuhin shu

On pessimism in Tezuka’s work:

I found myself disgusted by the cheap pessimism of works like [Mermaid] or [The Drop], which showed a drop of water falling on a thirsty man adrift at sea. I felt that this pessimism was qualitatively different from the pessimism Tezuka used to have in the odl days, as in the early days of [Astro Boy], for example – but it also could have been that in the early days I felt great tragedy and trembled with excitement at Tezuka’s cheap pessimism precisely because I was so young. (194)

. . . I felt the same thing with Tezuka’s Tales of a Street Corner – the animated film which Muschi Pro poured everything into making. There’s a scene in the film where posters of a ballerina and a violinist of some such things are trampled and scattered by soldiers’ boots during an air raid and then waft into the flames like moths. I remember that when I saw this, I was so disgusted that chills ran down my spine. (194-5)

Now I’ll refrain from going into too much detail because I don’t want to belabour the point, but when I saw [Pictures at an Exhibition], I really wondered what the heck the film was all about. And in the last scene in Cleopatra, at the line, “Go home, Rome,” I felt disgust. They had spent so much effort trying to develop so many sexy love scenes that the final “Go home, Rome,” line was just oo much for me to take. that was around the time I really sensed the bankruptcy of Tezuka’s vanity. (195)

Hakujaden (JP)

On his first encounter with The Tale of the White Serpent (Hakujaden) when he was a secondary school student:

At the time I dreamed of becoming a manga artist, and I was trying to draw in the absurd style then popular, but Hakujaden made me realize how stupid I was. It made me realize that, behind a façade of cynical pronouncements, in actuality I was in love with the pure, earnest world of the film, even if it were only another cheap melodrama. I was no longer able to deny the fact that there was another me – a me that yearned desperately to affirm the world rather than negate it.

After that, I have always given a great deal of thought to what I should create. And at the very least, I can say that no matter how self-conscious and embarrassed I might feel, I also feel compelled to create something that I truly believe in. (70)

The Snow Queen (Yuki no Joo) (JP)

Studio Ghibli/Disney release

On The Snow Queen (Snedronningen) and The Tale of the White Serpent (Hakujaden):

Snedronningen is proof of how much love can be invested in the act of making drawings move, and how much the movement of drawings can be sublimated into the process of acting. It proves that when it comes to depicting simple yet strong, powerful, piercing emotions in an earnest and pure fashion, animation can fully hold its own with the best of what other media genres can offer, moving us powerfully. While Hakujaden might have its weaknesses, I honestly believe that it has this same quality. (71)

The Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship Of The Ring

On the short-comings of live action models in animation in Cinderella (Disney, 1950) and The Lord of the Rings (Ralph Bakshi, 1978):

When using human actors as models, skilled teams of animators required a broad type of acting that mainly showed the human form in silhouette. They came to the conclusion that, rather than the style of acting developed for dramatic films, stage acting was more suitable for animated films. This is precisely the reason that the gestures used by characters in Disney’s animated films look like they come from a musical, and that [The Snow Queen] depends on movements like those in a girls’ ballet. there are many examples where using live-action models can result in disaster. Ralph Bakshi’s The Lord of the Rings. . . was doomed to failure because it relied on clumsy live-action sequences. Disney’s Cinderella. . . is living proof that modeling live-action images in the pursuit of realistic movement is a double-edged sword. In trying to achieve a sense of realism by using an average American young woman as a model, they lost even more of the inherent symbolism of the original Cinderella story than they did with their version of Snow White. (74-5)

This is just a small taste of Hayao Miyazaki’s thoughts on animation. To learn more, pick up a copy of Starting Point, 1979-1996.  To learn more about films loved by the animator's at Studio Ghibli, read about the Studio Ghilbi Museum Library.

Catherine Munroe Hotes