Title: Record of Lodoss War

Dubbed by National Sound

Distributed by Central Park Media (rescued by Media Blasters)

Written by: Jon Turner

Published: 7/29/2010

Nowadays it seems as though people are so accustomed to top quality dubbing; this is more of the standard these days rather than the exception, which wasn’t necessarily how things were in the ’90s. Around this period, the consensus was that dubbing just wasn’t very good at all, and “efforts” such as most of the output from Streamline and Manga UK often fell into truly dreary territory. However, there were some notable exceptions to the rule, and Record of Lodoss War OVA, dubbed by National Sound for Central Park Media in 1996, was one of them. That said, reactions to this dub have been wildly divided; as with another famous fantasy Anime series, Slayers, Lodoss‘s dub has gone on many fans’ best or worst dub lists. In spite of the naysayers, though, it has had its share of loyal fans over the years (Mike Toole on AnimeJump.com, for instance).

To fully appreciate Lodoss OVA as an overall dub, one must evaluate it as a product of its era, because, as much as I love this dub, I will admit that it does have its share of drawbacks, one of which is the uneven lip-sync. Most of this can be attributed to the technology of the time (reel-to-reel in contrast to the ProTools software we know today), but the animation sometimes results with some stilted mouth flaps which sometimes makes the flow of the dialogue sound choppy (not by much, however). And speaking of the script, while the late Mike Alben can be applauded for staying as faithful as possible to the original Japanese, there are occasional moments when his lines come across as awkwardly written or delivered. Then there are the performances by the incidental characters (soldiers, courtiers, villagers, etc.), which come across as cheesy sounding (although in all fairness, they’re nowhere nearly as embarrassing as the minor bit players in the follow-up Lodoss TV dub).

In spite of its weaknesses, though, Lodoss OVA has its share of memorable vocal performances which really carry the dub as a whole. It’s interesting to note that at the time, most of these actors were unknowns, but most would go on to have fairly successful careers in dubbing. The man responsible for bringing them in is none other than Bill Timoney, who not only voices the young hero, Parn (more on that later), but happened to help scout out the talent for the dub and even directed the first eight episodes. The previous ADR director had been called off to do another project, hence why Timoney had to fill-in. That said, the dub starts out somewhat stiffly in the opening three episodes, but by episode 4, the actors all settle into their roles and turn in fine work. Of the performances, here are the ones that really captivate me the most:

THE NARRATOR (Alexander J. Rose) – is the first to speak in the dub. He has a deep, authoritative voice which aptly sets the tone for the epic tale; hearing him utter “Lodoss, the accursed island” left me breathless. His role is sparse, but it is always a pleasure to hear his vocal whenever he is brought in.

PARN (Billy Regan) — No, it wasn’t Bill’s first role in Anime, but the actor claims that it was his breakthrough and one of his favorite characters. Billy has a very good “young leading man”‘s voice which works well for heroic roles of this type. Unlike his television counterpart in Lodoss TV, Regan provides range and enthusiasm; his scenes with Deedlit (particularly the dance scene in episode 5 as well as everything from episodes 11 to the end) and his action bits are among the highlights of his performance. Some might argue that his voice is a bit “rough” sounding, but this works in favor of the character as a reckless, impulsively heroic knight wanna-be. There are a couple of places in the beginning which sound somewhat tentative, but otherwise it’s a solid performance overall, and, as mentioned, it is superior to that of the TV series.

DEEDLIT (Lisa Ortiz) — Without a doubt, the voice that everyone remembers best from the Lodoss OVA dub. This was her first voice acting role, and while there are a few places where it’s obvious, note that I stress the word few. It’s a lively performance, with just the right amount of emotion and sassiness. Her voice is distinctively different from that of Yumi Tohma, and yet it suits this mystical high elf very well. Her acting, too, is quite effective, whether she is flirting with Parn, casting spells, or becoming gradually weaker in the final episodes as her life force is nearly drained to resurrect the Dark Goddess. (When she breathlessly utters, “Stay back, save yourself, Parn” one feels a tingle up their spine.) While Lisa has gone on to be better known as Lina Inverse from Slayers, to me, she will always be Deedlit.

ASHRAM (John Knox) — This is yet another role that really stands out. I don’t think Knox has done much Anime other than Lodoss, which is a shame, because his role of this ruthless yet honorable knight is amazing. He has an appropriately deep voice which is more than appropriate for the character, and while he comes across as rather stoic sounding, this is how Ashram should be. Only in several moments do a few lines come across as cold reading, but somehow this works in favor of the character instead of against him.

ETOH (Ted Lewis) — Like Ortiz, this was Ed Paul’s first Anime voice-acting role, and is often signaled out as the weak link of the show. He raises his voice to a surprisingly high pitch to sound somewhat boyish. This tone works in favor of the character being a bookish priest, although I did detect a couple of missed lines at the start (mostly the first half of the opening episode). As the show progresses, he gets more into character and becomes more confident with his subsequent appearances. He’s mostly soft-spoken, save for the penultimate episode where he gets to fight a ghoulish wraith. (It should also be noted that I do have a soft spot for his performance in spite of its shortcomings.)

GHIM (Greg Wolfe) — Of course, how could I forget this guy? Gruff, tough, and stony, Greg’s burly-sounding voice lends itself well to the grizzled old dwarf with an axe to grind (pun intended). He has an infectiously hearty laugh and a wry sense of humor (“Pathetic! You can hardly even handle a sword.”), but also a deep, emotional side which he often displays when reminded about the missing priestess he is searching for. There are several places where he comes across as a bit stiff, but not enough to detract from his overall performance. The last we hear of him is in Episode 8, and the actor really hits the marks there. (I won’t get into that, however, because doing so would provide spoilers.)

SLAYN (Al Muscari) — Mike Toole has mentioned that this was one of his favorite performances from the Lodoss dub. Muscari has a calm, yet dramatic sounding voice that is easy to visualize belonging to a benevolent magician. He delivers his lines in an understated tone without sounding monotonous (his spell recitations, in particular, are both fantastic and priceless), raising his voice only at the appropriate moments. It’s a shame that we haven’t heard much more from this actor.

KARLA/LEYLIA (Simone Grant) — A sorely missed actress, fans probably remember her best for her role as Boogiepop Phantom. Her performance as Karla, the unstable witch who threatens Lodoss, is something of a precursor to that role. She intones her lines in a cold, icy monotone, which emits both a devilish aura and commanding presence that sends chills up one’s spine. Her sinister cackling is spot-on, too. This lasts until episode 9, where she becomes the kind, gentle priestess under the witch’s control. There are also several instances where she can be heard as several different female characters: the Zaxon mayor’s daughter Liara, Princess Fianna of Valis, etc., and while this does cause for some disconcertation, there’s no denying that it’s unfortunate that Grant is no longer with us. Lodoss is a fine example of her talent.

WOODCHUCK (Jacques LeCan) — Another unknown with not much of a career, LeCan gives this surly thief a smarmy, “gangster”-like voice which is distinctively different from his Japanese counterpart, but fitting nonetheless. For the most part, he seems to be enjoying himself… although I did notice several places where he misses some of his lines. One such case is in episode 4, when Woodchuck is trying to escape from a dark void, his “help me!” isn’t as strong or emotional as the scene demands. In all fairness, it doesn’t spoil the performance and there are plenty of other moments where he gets to have fun (episodes 1 and 3, as well as the dice scene in episode 5). When his character becomes possessed by Karla, though, he really shines. There he sounds spooky and deeper-voiced, with a hair-tinglingly frightening sinister laugh. Note that a trace of his “gangster”-like persona remains at times in lines like “I gamble. My purpose is to preserve Lodoss.”

KASHUE (Chris Yates) — Although essentially a key figure, Kashue has a somewhat small part, but Chris plays it pretty much as you’d expect: commanding, with dignity, warmth, discipline, and occasional humor. It’s a very nice performance overall, particularly in his action scenes. Only in a couple of places does his dialogue come across as somewhat unsynched, but not jarring enough to detract.

ORSON (Chris Yates) – Chris also voices Orson, a “Berserker” warrior possessed by the Spirit of Rage, making him prone to burst out in vicious attacks. His voice is considerably deeper and tone and he doesn’t use much emotion, but considering the nature of his character (where he must keep all his emotions under control), it is more than appropriate.

PIROTESS (Meg Frances) — The opposite of Deedlit, character-wise, Pirotess is a dark elf who serves as Ashram’s love interest. Frances has a husky, sultry voice which brings a quality that is alternatingly alluring and dark. There are a few moments that come across as cold reading, but otherwise she acquits herself fairly well, and her final scene in episode 10 is appropriately effective.

SHIRIS (Karen Smith) — Rough and ready, with an aggressive quality and understated sassiness. That sums up Karen’s Shiris, in a nutshell. There are several places where she overacts, but since her character screams quite a bit in her first appearance (and with occasionally mellodramatic dialogue), it’s unavoidable. Her exasperation provides a nice contrast to her more stoic partner’s deadpan responses.

WAGNARD (Bruce Winant) — This is another one of my favorite performances from the dub. Bruce has a voice which fits this meglomaniacal sorcerer to a tee, but what really sells his performance is the laugh: it’s terrifying, overflowing with pure evil and malice that never gets boring. (Some of my friends/family members were quite scared by this laugh, effectively so.) As far as his acting goes, there isn’t much depth to the performance, but there doesn’t have to be. All Bruce has to do is be despicable and chew the scenery with glee as his character gets gradually crazier, and he does that wonderfully… particularly in the final episode where he gets to do a lot of maniacal laughing, shouting, and screaming. (The actor admits he couldn’t talk for weeks after recording that very episode!)

I neglected to mention the performances of Bob Barry as the raspy-sounding Emperor Beld, J.W. Gunther as King Fahn (who at times sounds a bit like Patrick Stewart), and Alexander J. Rose as the great sage Wort (who is really just a more weary-sounding version of his narrator voice, albeit effective overall); all three are decent, but they don’t really strike me as memorable as the guys I mentioned above.

One thing I neglected to mention is that the opening and ending theme songs for Lodoss OVA are translated and sung into English. Mike Alben and Peter Fish somehow manage to transform the Japanese-written lyrics into something palatable (if at times a tad cheesy), but it is the beautiful voice of Lisa DeSimone that really make these new reinditions soar. She sings with a lot of emotion and passion, giving these tunes the sort of “timeless” quality they deserve. Like the dub, these songs are grossly underrated and always a pleasure to listen to for each episode.

No one will argue that Lodoss OVA‘s dub is on par with today’s standards, but even having said that, it has aged fairly well for a 1996 production. In today’s light it probably doesn’t compare, but as an older dub, it’s above many other English tracks from its era. And it is superior to the more uneven (and inconsistent) Lodoss TV dub, Chronicles of the Heroic Knight, which followed approximately four years later.

Original title: カケラ | Kakera: A Piece of Our Life
Release: 2010
Country: Japan
Director: Momoko Ando
Running time: 107 Min.
Cast: Hikari Mitsushima | Eriko Nakamura | Ken Mitsuishi | Tasuku Nagaoka
Written by: Miguel Douglas
Published: 07.20.10

Haru is a college student ignored by her boyfriend yet believes she is still in love with him. One day at a café, Haru meets Riko, a medical artist (prosthetist) who creates body parts in order to disguise clients’ missing pieces, lost due to accident or disease. Both were alone, but struck up an immediate friendship and closeness. Riko doesn’t care about gender when it comes to relationships, and believes that love itself is the most important thing a human can achieve. Haru struggles in her life between friendship and a deeper relationship with Riko.

Loosely based off the best-selling manga Love Vibes by author Erika Sakurazawa, Kakera: A Piece of Our Life is a delicate examination of the role of relationships and sexuality. With the film being the directorial debut of female director Momoko Ando, it curiously explores the societal impressions regarding female identity and questions how we should perceive the term love and its implications within the context of our modern era. Given the modern social adherence towards exterior beauty taking precedence over inner beauty, the film courageously traverses many of our perceptions regarding such assumptions, in turn presenting more of a focus on how the two can—and should—effectively complement each other. This is expertly laid out between the two protagonists of the film—Haru and Riko—both who grow quite fond of one another through the most unusual of ways—with the added complication of both of them being female. In a sense, the film is seemingly portraying a conscious shift towards acceptance and recognize on part of the ever-evolving notion of sexuality found within a modern context. Take the character of Haru for example, with her subservient attitude towards her distasteful boyfriend, she is initially shown in the early half of the film as walking behind her him, not speaking up and giving into his sexual whims—which are all facets that contribute towards the traditional roles taken by women within Japan ages ago. While certainly some of these practices still exist to this day, Ando diligently showcases the transformative process undertaken by Haru—and in a larger effect, women—to adjust and reassert her role as a Japanese woman on her own terms free of societal influences concerning relationships.

It’s this exploration of the role of women that provides the film’s greatest strength. Ando delves into how modern women function within the realm of confronting relationships and gender attitudes. While at times the film seems painfully stereotypical in its approach towards men—with Haru’s boyfriend being a prime example—it’s careful not to delegate its handling of men as something so superficial. Essentially, Kakera: A Piece of Our Life is a film made primarily for women, with special preference on the how the relationships between them can be just as devastatingly involving as any other relationships regardless of gender. The relationship between Haru and Riko starts out simple and innocently enough, but soon begins to develop into a tangled web of emotion as they attempt to figure out why their relationship exists at all and if they truly love each other. Based purely on external beauty at first, they soon begin to suffer from many of the same problems that can be envisioned within any relationship—fear of change, trust and devotion are all prominently showcased and advocated as divisions within their relationship.

The second half of the film also brings forth some very interesting visual symbology as well. The interpretative nature of some of the symbols redirects the focus of the story concerning a flawed relationship towards one of a more personal variety—essentially looking at both Haru and Riko as individuals looking for some of sort of outlet for expressing their identity as women within society. Whether it’s the tangible usage of Haru’s gradual change of attire, to the focus of doves symbolizing personal change, Ando provides the essential visual representations needed the compound the original storyline. This is a rather strong juxtaposition from the first half of the film, which relied primarily on the quirky relationship involving two entirely different individuals falling in love.

Perhaps it’s best to say that the film promotes the concept of individuality within the sphere of social constructs, and how one can formulate themselves given the right situation or experience. Within the unpredictable nature of love and all its potential follies, how does one carve out their own path in terms of finding their own identity? With Japan—a place of where individuality is often disapproved of—director Ando makes a statement regarding how one can overcome the obstacle of being an outsider for the wrong reasons, and encourage being an outsider for the right ones. Whether this message is conveyed in the best possible way is certainly questionable, but the film nicely addresses the significant nature of finding and subsequently being your true self within a relationship, and even if you end up getting hurt, you will always learn something from the experience.

Overall, Kakera: A Piece of Our Life remains a strong film for what it delivers, specifically its latter half. While somewhat approached generically, the film showcases the tremendous talent of Momoko Ando as a director that can deliver complicated and engaging characters coupled with a story that not only explores homosexuality within Japan, but does it in a very meditative fashion. For a debut, this is of significance for sure, mainly because the film’s highly diverse nature of exploring its material, which showcases the versatility of such a young director. While there are various female directors within Japan at the current moment, not many have made the substantial impact needed to break through, with Momoko Ando being one of the fortunate ones to do so. If Kakera: A Piece of Our Life is any indication of what she has to offer as a director—and more importantly, a female director—then one could easily see the importance of such a film within the realm of Japanese cinema. Regardless, this film remains an exceptional foray into the emotionally dominated world of love and its many complicated albeit sincere experiences.

Trailer

Kakera: A Piece of Our Life trailer

Original title: フロッグ川 | Frog River
Release: 2002
Country: Japan
Director: Hajime Ishimine
Running time: 118 Min.
Cast: Ryo Kase | Ichirô Ogura | Machiko Ono | Kenichi Yamamoto
Written by: Miguel Douglas
Published: 07.09.10

Tsutomu has it rough when it comes to his masculinity. Shamed when he was younger due to an unlikely dare that he couldn’t commit to, he has always lived under the shadow if his peers and never fully stands up for what he believes in. He has since become an aspiring DJ and works as a clerk at a record store where he can play all the music he wants too without being bothered. This all changes though when he meets up with his peer from the past, the ever oppressive and bullying Shiba. Shiba has been bullying Tsutomu for as long as he can remember, always putting on a friendly façade to convince Tsutomu that he is actually his friend. Shiba continually gets him into trouble, but when a mere accident results in Tsutomu having to battle a rival in a kendo duel, will Tsutomu finally gain the courage to face his fears?

Written by Katsuhito Ishii (The Taste of Tea, Funky Forest: The First Contact) and directed by Hajime Ishimine (Funky Forest: The First Contact), one should expect this bizarrely creative duo to bring forth a film as strange as it is unconventional— Frog River certainly does just that. For what it’s worth, Frog River is a film that is far removed from the norms one would consider within the genre of comedy, instead relying on an offbeat narrative structure so often viewed within their other collaborative works. The film is surprisingly non-linear in its approach to storytelling, focusing primarily on experiencing the moment as is rather than constructing a coherent plot. Definitely detached from the realm of normality as much as possible, the film seemingly elevates itself towards a desired result of subtlety over exaggeration. With an overabundance on extended scenes involving strangely random humor, the film seems to beget any sort of resemblance towards traditional comedy often seen in films within the genre. Irony is a staple ingredient within films by both Ishii and Ishimine, but their subtle approach taken here in enticing humor might perplex individuals not quite accustomed towards their handling of these sort of comedic antics.

It should be simply put that Frog River won’t necessarily be appreciated nor understood by everyone. The film is certainly aware of this, and it definitely seems to tailor to an acquired taste—specifically for those who enjoy pure randomness involving their comedy. Throughout showcasing such laborious comical scenes though, the film still presents a very introspective take concerning the concept of masculinity within a modern context. Sure, while the film remains comical for the most part, the exploration of Tsutomu’s personal conflict concerning his manhood is a primary focus. This injection of questioning his masculinity provides the film with a notion of relatability far removed from the comical sequences that occupy most of the film. This provides the film with an eccentric blend of drama and comedy that is hit or miss for the most part. Whether this is realized within the context of the viewing audience is entirely subjective, mainly because the film at times can’t decide whether to be focused on being a serious look into how one becomes a man or to elaborate more on its funniness. Again, the film is simply constructed in a way that reinforces and promotes an acquired taste in comedy.

Like stated previously, the elements of comedy within the film relish in their ironical display of humor and self-pity. With moments such as Tsutomu getting in a fight with a homosexual male, to him fantasizing about a girl he’s too afraid to express his feeling towards, the film highlights the irony of Tsutomu’s life situation and his unwillingness to really change it. Questioning this unwillingness is focal point for the film, in which it provides some very poignant moments that are intermixed with that some uncanny weirdness. It’s not far off to say that Frog River doesn’t seem to promote the strenuous nature of everyday life, but rather intends to deliver the audience a world that is awkwardly familiar but still entirely based within a realm of fantasy. When we notice the situation that Tsutomu finds himself in at the end, the allegorical nature of the film is highlighted as a pivotal step towards his affirming ideals to take that step towards finally becoming a man, even if it is on own accord and not something forced upon him.

Overall, Frog River is an odd but somewhat uplifting journey into how one perceives their state of being as a man. If one doesn’t enjoy the randomness of comedy often times seen in director Ishimine’s and Ishii’s other films, then this film is probably won’t be as enjoyable—and in some cases, completely unwatchable. For what it delivers in terms of originality, the film hits high marks in almost every regard, which brings about a very creative look into the minds of some of Japan’s most interesting directors. They would both go one to collaborate and create other, even more bizarre film projects, but Frog River remains an excellent starting point towards viewing what these two directors have to offer towards handling Japanese cinema with a creative twist—even if everybody might not get it.

Written by: Esosa Osamwonyi

Published: 07.05.10
Disclaimer: This article is copyrighted. Please do not reproduce this article in whole or part, in any form, without obtaining my written permission.

The dubbing of foreign media has always been something that has interested me. It’s really something I have not thought about for a while. I remember those old kung-fu films and how they were dubbed over in English as well as other foreign films too. It was a good way to introduce the product to a new audience. Nowadays though, you don’t see too many films being dubbed. Many are now subtitled to hold the original authenticity, themes and message. Another thing to consider is that it may be that the culture is more accepting than it was in 1980’s towards showcasing the original content.

Dubbing is used in a variety of ways in the media. Two of the biggest things to consider are anime and video games. For this article I will focus on the process of anime dubbing simply because video games is an entirely different matter to consider. Anime is defined as animation originating from Japan, and just as certain countries have cartoons, Japan has anime. Its origins go back as early as 1900′s, and for quite some time, it remained an isolated form of animation. It wasn’t till the 1960’s that it began to spread overseas and wasn’t until the 1980’s and 1990’s that it grew as a major cultural export. The way it would work is that would anime distribution companies would handle licensing and distribution outside of Japan. Licensed anime is modified by distributors through dubbing into the language of the country and adding language subtitles to the Japanese language track. For many of us, this is how we were introduced to such works as Akira, Gatachman, and many other titles. People were now aware of this thing called “Anime” outside of Japan, but I personally believe it wasn’t until anime started appearing on mainstream television channels such as Cartoon Network, Colours, Sci-Fi Network, Adult Swim, etc. that it really took off. It was also an excellent way to advertise their product(s) and sell more merchandise to a worldwide market outside Japan.

Now let’s fast-forward to the present day. Technology is advancing at a rapid rate—the Internet and computers play a major role in most of our lives today, and one has to consider there is so much anime available because of this expansion. Anime is not shown as much on television as before though but it’s definitely more popular due in part to the growth of people using the Internet for means of entertainment.  It seems to me that the really popular titles are the ones that receive dubbing. Which brings me to what to what I want to discuss further—the question of it being possible to dub every anime.

Of course, the immediate answer would be no, but should it be necessary to do so? Again, probably not, but that certainly doesn’t stop licensing companies from trying. A licensing company getting the rights to an anime title is similar to a sports draft of sorts. Imagine if you will a convention in which representatives of the company come out to announce their picks and then provide small details on when to expect said product to hit the stores. This is the first step of the dubbing process. From there they go on to finding voice actors to fit the available roles. Depending on the company, the product may see the hands of the consumer in several months up to a year (if all goes as plan). Which brings up another concern for me—I certainly begin wonder how patient can an anime fan be in a situation like this? I mean, in that time of waiting, one could seek out “other means” of viewing media if possible—and they certainly do.

Not to say that the idea of dubbing anime is a bad thing—in fact I think it’s a very noble cause—however, my point is that many licensing companies need to be able to adjust and alternate. Some companies are now streaming anime on the web through various measures (Hulu and Crunchyroll for example) and showing anime episodes around the same time as its initial release in Japan. DVD’s are also only being released in Japanese with subtitles–with the absence of an English dub entirely (amongst other languages as well). The problem is that it’s simply not done enough. In order to attract attention you have to give attention. No longer do we have to rely on conventions and magazines to get information on topics that serve our interests. In this day and age, information gets around much quicker and easier. Anime voice acting in the West is something that is still growing and will continue to grow, but it’s simply not at that size to have that “voice over everything-mentality”. A lot of major companies pick up too many anime titles and think they can voice over every one of them. The results are that some are never finished and go to the wayside, where fan-subs are the only way to finish a series or title. A “certain” anime company is known for this. But in the end, when does one know when too much is simply too much? This is one of the dilemmas facing dubbing industry today and only time will tell what the future will hold concerning its outcome.

Original title: リトルニモ：冒険スランバーランドで | Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland
Release: 1989
Country: Japan
Director: Masami Hata | William T. Hurtz
Running time: 100 Min.
Cast: Gabriel Damon | Mickey Rooney | Rene Auberjonois | Laura Mooney | Bernard Erhard
Written by: Miguel Douglas
Published: 07.02.10

Welcome to the fantasy world of “Little Nemo,” filled with dreams of enchanted lands and new friends, amazing magic and fun-filled adventure. A place where anything is possible and the only boundaries are those of the imagination. In this major motion picture, Nemo journeys to the Kingdom of Slumberland. The King of Slumberland welcomes Nemo with open arts, making him heir to the throne and giving him a magical key that opens any door in the kingdom. “But I must warn you,” the King says, “there is one door you must never open.” Not heeding the King’s advice, Nemo unlocks the door. With the King kidnapped and the nightmare unleashed upon the kind people of Slumberland, Nemo and his friends must venture into the depths of the Nightmare World in a courageous attempt to make things right. Will they be able to save the King and restore peace to the Kingdom of Slumberland? Only then will Nemo dream happily ever after.

A huge step for Japanese animation within North America, Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland was the first Japanese animated feature film to have received a wide release with the North America. With key Japanese animators and directors such as Hayao Miyazaki, Isao Takahata and Yoshifumi Kondo initially onboard to develop the project—but sadly left due to many creative differences—the project went through a variety of turbulent phases before even being released. Given the arousing support and creative talent that still remained behind the production, the film was ultimately considered a box office failure due to its low revenue returns. Despite this, the film regained some prosperity through its home video sales—while still remaining a favorite amongst a majority of viewers and critics alike. The film simply became one of those cases where a following developed after the film’s initial release, and whose prominence has simply grown outside the cinema and more so into the home watching experience.

It’s interesting to note the production of film because of the strenuous amount of effort that went into its construction. For all the obstacles that the film had to endure, one could easily apply the notion of the film simply being ahead of its time. It had all the right elements that young children often experience—imaginative dreams, wondrous adventures and even frightening nightmares—all encompassed within a visually stunning film that could easily be equated to that of a Studio Ghibli or Disney work, it’s simply that technically appropriate. This simplistic approach has often times been lauded as cliché or overdone within other animated films, but here it’s done to an imaginative effect that neither falls flat nor seems too contrived. From joyful scenes featuring impressive and catchy songs, to adventurous ones filled with aerial pursuits and clashes, the film is equally impressive on multiple fronts. Deriving from comic strip by Winsor McCay published in 1905, the transfer from comic strip to celluloid is absolutely fantastic—even if it doesn’t exactly follow the episodic nature presented in the strip. The look of the characters and environments presented within the film are duly captured from the original comic strip, which is already quite alluring to begin with—in other words, the wealth of creativity stemming from the source material certainly helped the film in developing its atmospheric world.

Which brings us to the visual aspect of the film. With fluid and graceful animation presented throughout the film, it certainly captures the high-energy movement only envisioned within the realm of the McCay’s artistry. With the usage of traditional animation, the universe is able to come to life through its dazzling atmosphere and busy scenery—it really is quite stunning. Very Ghibli-esque in its exterior appearance—but still remaining somewhat Westernized with its handling of characters—the film devotes a lot of time to exploring and elaborating on its intricate environments and settings. With it usage of vibrant and colorfully lush displays of imagination, the film conveys a sense of appreciation towards traditional hand drawn animation. Alongside the visual element of the film is the music. Composed by the famous Sherman Brothers, the film’s score was performed by the extraordinary London Symphony Orchestra. This definitely raises the film far beyond the typical animated treatment; its usage simply enhances the film to a substantial degree not often heard in any other but the highest quality of animated films.

The film does have it downsides though. For one, the second arc of the film is rather slow and cumbersome, which slows the narrative down from the very action-oriented first half. The establishment of the villain is prominent during this portion, but it seems rather rushed and imbalanced considering the nature of his confrontation. While the first half within Slumberland was enjoyable, the second arc is definitely a much darker affair. This portion might also be too scary for younger children—which I’ll admit the film is primarily for—but adults should be completely fine with the material showcase during these parts. It’s just that the juxtaposition here seems slightly unfair given the rather lighthearted first half. Secondly, the film doesn’t necessarily follow the comic strip, which might disappoint certain fans expecting the film to strictly adhere to the original source material. Still, these are just minor quibbles compared to the entirety of the product, which for the most part still retains the vibrant atmosphere of fantasy found in McCay’s original comic strip.

Overall, Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland ultimately remains an impressive albeit forgotten masterpiece. The reasons for remembrance are many, but the film still remains a pioneering work in many regards, primarily due to it breaking numerous barriers that had existed between both the American and Japanese market in terms of jointly promoting and creating animated feature films. The fact that it’s a film that actually complements the original comic strip is also greatly valued—even if it remains somewhat different in how its story is approached. In a more pragmatic view, the film provides excellent characterization of its cast, an enchanting and memorable soundtrack and a wholesome story that will certainly please both adults and children alike. It’s a story about facing one’s fear and meeting new and interesting characters—all the while being quite imaginative. I believe these are the strongest qualities for any film, whether it is live-action or animated, and Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland is one film that encompasses all these qualities to present a triumphant display of animated and cinematic prowess not often viewed in many films today.

Trailer

Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland trailer

As a fan of Japanese cinema, I feel it’s essential to support those who continually support the community in enriching and exposing Japanese cinema to an ever-increasing spectrum of viewers. With that in mind, the Japan Society in New York is going to be putting on their “Japan Cuts” Festival of Contemporary Japanese Cinema–which is now in their fourth consecutive year! By looking at the list of titles showcasing, it’s very impressive to say the least, with a variety of different titles that are sure to please. Please check out the excerpt down below, and visit the Japan Society and their subsequent JAPAN CUTS program page for showtime information and to purchase tickets. You can also visit the Japan Society Film Blog as well, which will be covering the festival for the entire 16-day run! Please support the Japan Society for what they offer towards exploring the culture, arts and cinema of Japan.

Information:

It’s that time of year again… JAPAN CUTS Festival of Contemporary Japanese Cinema (July 1-16) is coming to Japan Society for its fourth consecutive year, with its biggest line-up ever. With 24 titles and 30 screenings, this is the largest showcase of contemporary Japanese film outside Japan, with international and U.S. premieres, special guests (filmmakers Noboru Iguchi, Yoshihiro Nishimura, Tomorowo Taguchi, Toshiaki Toyoda, Hitoshi Yazaki, and Isao Yukisada; and actors Tatsuya Fujiwara and Daichi Watanabe), parties (Festival Launch Party on July 1^st, SUSHI TYPHOON! on July 3^rd and NIGHT OF THE FILMMAKERS on July 10^th) and giveaways. In addition to independent and big budget feature films from the past year and 8 titles co-presented with the New York Asian Film Festival, the 2010 edition caps the decade with the Best of Unreleased Japanese Films of the 00’s (the “Naughties”), a digest of overlooked films from the past ten years which—for whatever reason—have not been treated to U.S. distribution.

Highlights include Confessions (dir. Tetsuya Nakashima), Sawako Decides (dir. Yuya Ishii), About Her Brother (dir. Yoji Yamada), Blood of Rebirth (dir. Toshiaki Toyoda), Bare Essence of Life: Ultra Miracle Love Story (dir. Satoko Yokohama), Dear Doctor (dir. Miwa Nishikawa), Golden Slumber (dir. Yoshihiro Nakamura), Nightmare Detective II (dir. Shinya Tsukamoto), Parade (dir. Isao Yukisada), and Zero Focus (dir. Isshin Inudo). But really, we believe every single title in this year’s line-up is worth a watch.

2010 Schedule:

Full Schedule PDF in English and Japanese

*Director or actor introduction and/or Q&A!

Thursday, July 1st

Sawako Decides (112 min.), 6:45 pm
Confessions (106 min.), 9 pm

Friday, July 2nd

Golden Slumber (139 min.), 6:15 pm
Blood of Rebirth* (83 min.), 9 pm

Saturday, July 3rd

Dear Doctor (127 min.), 1 pm
Blood of Rebirth* (83 min.), 3:45 pm
Alien vs. Ninja (81 min.), 6 pm
Mutant Girls Squad* (85 min.), 8:30 pm

Sunday, July 4th

Boys on the Run (114 min.), 12 pm
Confessions (106 min.), 2 pm
Dear Doctor (127 min.), 4:15 pm

Tuesday, July 6th

The Foreign Duck, the Native Duck and God in a Coin Locker (110 min.), 6:15 pm
Hanging Garden* (114 min.), 8:30 pm

Wednesday, July 7th

Electric Button (Moon and Cherry) (82 min.), 6:30 pm
Bare Essence of Life: Ultra Miracle Love Story (120 min.), 8:30 pm

Thursday, July 8th

Accidental Kidnapper (111 min.), 6:15 pm
One Million Yen Girl (121 min.), 8:30 pm

Friday, July 9th

Zero Focus (130 min.), 6:30 pm
Parade* (118 min.), 9 pm

Saturday, July 10th

Parade* (118 min.), 12 pm
Crying Out Love, in the Center of the World* (138 min.), 3 pm
Oh, My Buddha!* (114 min.), 6 pm

Sunday, July 11th

King of Thorn (110 min.), 6 pm

Tuesday, July 13th

Oh, My Buddha!* (114 min.), 6:15 pm

Wednesday, July 14th

Villon’s Wife (114 min.), 6:30 pm
Nightmare Detective II (102 min.), 9 pm

Thursday, July 15th

Memories of Matsuko (130 min.), 6:15 pm
Zero Focus (130 min.), 9 pm

Friday, July 16th

About Her Brother (126 min.), 6:15 pm
Sweet Little Lies* (117 min.), 8:30 pm

Japan Cuts 2010 Preview:

About New York’s Japan Society:

Established in 1907, New York’s Japan Society has evolved into North America’s single major producer of high-quality content on Japan for an English-speaking audience. Presenting over 100 events annually through well established Corporate, Education, Film, Gallery, Lectures, Performing Arts and Innovators Network programs, the Society is an internationally recognized nonprofit, nonpolitical organization that provides access to information on Japan, offers opportunities to experience Japanese culture, and fosters sustained and open dialogue on issues important to the U.S., Japan, and East Asia.

Original title: 宮本武蔵−双剣に馳せる夢 | Miyamoto Musashi – Soken ni Haseru Yume| Musashi: The Dream of the Last Samurai
Release: 2009
Country: Japan
Director: Mizuho Nishikubo | Mamoru Oshii
Running time: 72 Min.
Written by: Miguel Douglas
Published: 06.23.10

Miyamoto Musashi (1584-1645) was an unrivalled swordsman in the days when internal wars in Japan had virtually ended. Nevertheless, he wrote a master treatise on military strategy, The Book of Five Rings and sought “the way” to enlighten his spirit and cultivate his mind. But could this image have been fabricated by the generations that followed? Mamoru Oshii will take on an unusual portrayal of this legendary and aloof warrior, between spectacular duels and a tragic life in pursuit of greatness.

Films based around mythical or legendary figures have always presented a difficult spot for creators to construct some sort of objective truth regarding them. This is even harder to consider when dealing with a cinematic interpretation of such an individual, and even more difficult when attempting to present a documentary on such. We all have to admit that such exaggeration lends the source material a great depth of creativity, but should this be considered when dealing with historical accounts? Where do we distinguish between fact and fiction? With an original concept by Mamoru Oshii himself, Musashi: The Dream of the Last Samurai attempts to borderline the realm of interpretative history and factual history, which often times presents a very awkward outlook for a film dealing with such a memorable figure within Japanese history. Perhaps it’s best to say that this sort of approach was necessary given the figure at hand, but it will undoubtedly inform, surprise, and even confuse the viewer as to what to make of it.

Caught between showcasing live-action footage, comical narratives, and animated sword battles, the film treats the material at hand with the feel of a documentary. Those looking strictly for a full-length animated feature film will be certainly disappointed, while those looking for a showcasing of historical accounts and elaborate background information regarding the period in which Musashi lived should be pleased. The film is definitely pointed towards acquiring knowledge of Musashi as a mythical and historical figure, and pans out in such a fashion that should be enjoyable for anyone interested in learning such information. Those who have little interest in history in any capacity or regard will probably not enjoy the film as much, mainly because it relies so much on providing information on the historical backing of the era of Musashi, including that of his likings, sword techniques, and even some history on warfare. While all this will certainly appeal to viewers who enjoy learning history through film, it can become somewhat of an arduous task to sit through for the common viewer more accustomed to strictly animated fares that rely on a straight narrative to engage them.

This is not to say that the film is confusing to watch, but it does expound upon the figure of Musashi through various bizarre set pieces—often times with mixed results. What this does is present a unique but ultimately dry look into the life of Musashi—almost methodical in its handling. While the most preferred treatment would be that of a fully animated feature film, Musashi: The Dream of the Last Samurai carefully brushes this aside to focus more on the contextual background of the duels more so than the actual duels themselves. While this is fantastic for those not accustomed to the history, it heavily borders on being too informative and less entertaining a film for viewers already informed of the history—even then, the film only briefly touches on so little of it to begin with. While the trailer amply showed an abundance of animated battle sequences, the actual film sparsely showcases such scenes, only to have a majority of the film’s time dedicated to explaining the historical establishments surrounding such scenes through a collage of live-action scenery, manuscript inserts, and awkward narration.

Besides the rather strenuous amount of information given in the film, it still delivers on providing excellent animated sequences. With animated production by Production I.G., the film highlights many of Musashi’s duels in articulate and exaggerated fashion, which further cements Musashi’s status a both a mythical and historical Japanese figure. This most certainly presents a two-fold though, and the abundant amount of narrative techniques can only stretch so far. While the animated battle sequences are quite nice to view, they are easily outweighed with that of shoddy CG of the main narrator and his companion. Contrasting the rather violent sword duels and battle sequences, the overtly cute scenes that the narrator resides in seems completely out of place given the material explored. This juxtaposition is rather jarring, and easily confuses itself from being taken as a serious account of Musashi the legendary swordsman or as a comical preschool presentation. Those not informed about Musashi in any regard will find some gratification during these informative segments—and they do provide extensive detailing—but many will probably want to just view the next sword duel.

Overall, Musashi: The Dream of the Last Samurai is an equally muddled and absorbing film for what it presents to the viewer. While the detailed historical and mythical look into Musashi Miyamoto as an individual is quite enlightening, one could only imagine a film like this being enjoyed to its furthest extent by history and warfare buffs strictly because the film presents itself more so as a documentary than anything else. Whether this works to benefit the film as being entertaining is entirely subjective to each viewer, and while that logic could be applied to most films, I feel it’s to be highly considered given this particular film’s focus being on such a legendary swordsman. And like any historical analysis, it’s quite difficult to encompass everything within the confinement of a film, let alone a 72-minute one. If you’re looking for a documentary approach on Musashi Miyamoto, look no further—if you’re looking for an animated action extravaganza, you might be disappointed. Still, Musashi: The Dream of the Last Samurai remains an impressive albeit perplexing look into one of Japan’s greatest mythical and historical heroes.

Trailer

Musashi trailer

Original title: 太陽を盗んだ男 | Taiyo o Nusunda Otoko | The Man Who Stole The Sun
Release: 1979
Country: Japan
Director: Kazuhiko Hasegawa
Running time: 147 Min.
Cast: Kenji Sawada | Bunta Sugawara | Kimiko Ikegami | Kazuo Kitamura
Written by: Miguel Douglas
Published: 06.18.10

Makoto, a high school science and chemistry teacher, has decided to build his own atomic bomb. Before stealing plutonium isotopes from a nearby nuclear power plant, he is involved in the botched hijacking of one of his school’s buses during a field trip. Along with a police detective, Yamashita he is able to overcome the hijacker and is publicly hailed as a hero.

Opening with footage showcasing the first atomic bomb detonation in 1945 in New Mexico, The Man Who Stole The Sun is a controversial film from its very outset. Given the subject matter at hand and the state of Japanese affairs concerning nuclear weaponry, the film presents a satirical look into the political leverage one obtains when they have such weaponry at their disposal. One slowly begins to see the obvious correlation the film is attempting to convey here—that in which the substitution of nations for the individual, in this case the protagonist Makoto. Heralded as a classic within Japan, the film is a culmination of many social and political issues as well as a showcase for the horrific side effects of an undetonated atomic bomb, which is an interesting approach to take—most other films primarily focus on the effects of a detonated weapon. The construction of the bomb is a key element in the film—in fact, the film’s first hour is dedicated almost entirely towards this meticulous process. While the suspension of belief is certainly applicable here, the film is almost comical at times due to the absurd lengths that Makoto undertakes in the construction of the bomb—breaking into and stealing high-grade plutonium isotopes from a nuclear facility and constructing the bomb in his apartment are surely entertaining, but it might come at a surprise at how easy Makoto makes it out to be. Realism aside, the film is always careful to show that his scientific endeavors come with a heavy and realistic toll.

It’s important to consider that we do view Makoto as an individual who is essentially misanthropic on his own accord, and we slowly begin to view this ideology through subtle hints within the film—we often times view him self-absorbed in his work, especially when he begins constructing the bomb. It seemingly becomes almost a religious experience for him in its construction; joyously prancing around when he finally is able to assemble it. This is where the film drastically diverts into something entirely different from the first half. Considering the rather intense first half, the second half of the film showcases Makoto going up against the government in attempt have them do what he orders them to—which for the most part, are demands that are rather trivial. This is where the narrative slowly becomes intermixed with that of detective work, romance, and proposed terrorism—which makes for a critical juxtaposition from the first half. This is where The Man Who Stole The Sun slowly begins to lose ground as a political statement, and attempts to juggle multiple genres that eventually push the film to its absolute limits in terms of being considered plausible at all. It seems that the film is attempting to be both comedic and serious at the same time, and it’s often difficult to judge how we should perceive the film as a viewer given the seriousness of the subject matter at hand. This film does somewhat redeem itself in this regard with its conclusion, which essentially encompasses the truer message of the film explored in its first half.

It’s interesting to note that through all the chaos presented throughout the film, the notion of radiation and it affects on living creatures is quite evident. Whether this presents the ramifications of obtaining absolute power in a plausible light is questionable, but it does showcase the slow and eventual decay of the individual through radioactive poisoning. It is truly worth the cost to attain such power at the loss of one’s physical appearance? It’s a point subtly brought up numerous times in the film, which will certainly lead one to ponder the horrendous nature of radiation upon the human body. While the actual bomb is viewed as leverage for Makoto in enacting his will on the government, the film stresses that the construction of a destructive weapon such as the atomic bomb is just as dangerous to the individual as it is if actually detonated—the disastrous effects are still there, just in a different capacity.

Overall, The Man Who Stole The Sun is an intense film that somewhat loses it way towards the end, but its haunting conclusion redeems itself to a magnificent degree. With the destructive nature of the bomb ever present throughout the film, its still remains a great testament at how we can view the folly of human harnessing and engineering of weapons of absolute destruction in the most uncommon ways—in this case, that of being entirely comical in the most unnatural circumstances. This is of course brought to full circle by the film’s end, painting a devastating portrait of a man who could care less about the outcome of his actions and is ultimately fed up with the dire situation he himself created. There comes a point of no return, a point where the hero or villain must accept their fate, no matter how disgusting it must be. This element fused with a dark comedic flair, ultimately raises The Man Who Stole The Sun to very intriguing position within Japanese cinema—that of presenting a satirical look into the most destructive weapon ever created by the human race.

Trailer

The Man Who Stole The Sun trailer

Original title: 霊魂の検索ゴー！| Magare! Supûn | Go Find a Psychic!
Release: 2009
Country: Japan
Director: Katsuyuki Motohiro
Running time: 106 Min.
Cast: Masami Nagasawa | Hideto Iwai | Junya Kawashima | Hiroki Miyake | Haruki Nakagawa
Written by: M. Douglas
Published: 06.15.10

Once a year, on Christmas Eve, Cafe Telekinesis holds a real psychic party. At the party, psychics gather together to show off their abilities while for the rest of the year they hide their abilities. Yone Sakurai is a program director for a psychic variety TV show called “Asunaro Psychic”. Yone actually believes in psychic abilities, and by an audience request, a new plan is set out for the program—a plan that requires the show to uncover real psychics. Yone is selected to find these people throughout the nation, but ends up empty handed each time. Before Yone ends her search she makes one last stop at Cafe Psychic on Christmas Eve. Can the true psychics there, who all despise Yone’s TV show, hide their abilities from Yone?

I, like many others reading this, probably grew up wishing they had special powers or extraordinary abilities. Based on our enjoyment of cartoons, comics, or films when we were children, we tended to incorporate many playful philosophies into our daily routine—whether it be our ability to fly, showcase extreme strength, or shoot lasers from our eyes—we enjoyed looking at our ordinary world through extraordinary eyes. As we grew older though, most of us began to view the world in a more practical sense, convincing ourselves that such supernatural abilities simply don’t exist. Go Find a Psychic! is a film that harkens back to the old days in which our imagination played a key part in our lives, and allowed us to vividly view the world through a more imaginative mindset.

It’s certain to say that Go Find a Psychic! is a film that pokes fun at the various extreme lengths that people will go in order to have fame attached to their name. Whether it’s showcasing extravagant abilities that really aren’t extravagant at all, or blatantly lying that one even has such special abilities to begin with, the film offers a humorous atmosphere to the audience by showing the absurdities of such claims that permeate our very own lives. Presuming it’s rather instinctual for many of us to dislike being consider ordinary—or even worse, normal—the film effectively combines this rather minuscule logic with that of comedy, which works out great given the film’s premise. There are some tremendously funny moments within the film, particularly when the psychics are attempting to hide their abilities from the likes of the ordinary people of the world. They really don’t want to be famous and have their abilities exploited for the sole purpose of entertaining others. There is matter of respect for one’s ability, but the film interweaves between showing the rather trivial things they use them for, which often times leads to the numerous comedic scenarios throughout the film.

Considering the large cast at hand, chemistry is essential—and thankfully it works here. The cast ensemble is really a joy to watch—not simply because they play nicely off each other, but mainly because throughout a majority of the film, they are confined to one setting. The setting—Café Telekinesis—provides the characters a great opportunity to share a common livelihood given the rather enclosed nature of the environment. While other films jump from one setting to the next, Go Find a Psychic! plays it low-key on purpose, and with the film being derived from a stage play, it’s crucial for the dialogue and interaction to work out effectively given such a setting. The back and forth dialect is both humorous and emotional given the current state that the individuals live in, which is a life of constant secrecy. Perhaps it’s important to consider that these people don’t want the fame that their supernatural abilities will certain ascribe to them, but choose to remain incognito for reasons most of us would certainly understand given the current affairs of the entertainment business. The way the film delivers different views on how we should approach supernatural abilities is also quite different from many other films—while the true psychics wish to remain anonymous, the fake psychics wish to showcase their fake abilities in an attempt to convince their audience they are true psychics. The obvious problem with the latter is that it’s certainly only for personal fame and wealth—which makes for a very interesting juxtaposition.

Overall, Go Find a Psychic! is delightful film for what it offers. It presents a very intriguing premise not often viewed in other films dealing with similar topics, and as a fun romp into the supernatural, it isn’t afraid to poke fun at the way mainstream society views such proposed phenomena. Director Katsuyuki Motohiro has yet again proven his ability to combine comedic elements with that of the supernatural, in turn essentially creating wholesome scientific comedies. Consisting of a large and diverse cast, humorous dialogue, and an interesting look into the world of exploiting the supernatural, the film is a funny satire on how we view the rather ordinary in the most extraordinary ways, and delivers us back to the possibility that this phenomena could exist out there somewhere in the world—it just hasn’t been discovered yet.

Trailer

Go Find a Psychic! trailer

Original title: 誰も守ってくれない | Dare mo Mamotte Kurenai | Nobody to Watch Over Me
Release: 2009
Country: Japan
Director: Ryôichi Kimizuka
Running time: 118 Min.
Cast: Kôichi Satô | Mirai Shida | Ryuhei Matsuda | Yuriko Ishida
Written by: Miguel Douglas
Published: 06.08.10

When two children are found murdered, an eighteen-year-old high school student becomes the prime suspect, and the case quickly becomes a media sensation. As both the press and an angry public descend on the home of the accused, his family finds themselves at the mercy of strangers unconcerned with their welfare. Takumi Katsuyoshi is a veteran police detective who is assigned to look after Saori, the fifteen-year-old sister of the accused; while he initially regards the assignment as frivolous, it isn’t long before he sees what kind of toll the attention has taken on the family, and he becomes all the more concerned when he witnesses the reckless behavior of the paparazzi.

The media has always been presented as a controversial topic within films, especially within the realm of American cinema. Whether it be showcasing the absolute abuse of network television to achieve high ratings in the satirical film Network (1976), or the use of media manipulation to hide the adverse effects of smoking in Thank You for Smoking (2006), the promotion of the media as an advocate for exaggerated tales, sensationalist views, and even downright lies has taken center in some of the most interesting films highlighting the media-saturated culture we live in. Culturally, while America might express similar media prominence as the Japanese, Japan has a niche for going far and beyond to not only highlight an individual’s problems within the media, but to also specifically ask them to take account for it and apology publically—even if they were only loosely associated with the accused event or action.

This leads right into Nobody to Watch Over Me as a poignant tale concerning the realm of privacy and its constant struggle with media exposure. Shot in a style very reminiscent to actual media coverage—with restless camera movement and frenzied pacing—the film explores the media and its affect on a young girl named Saori, who just happens to be the younger sister of an accused murderer. With her emotional instability already increasing from her familial situation, it doesn’t help her at all that the press is constantly focusing on her and her parents for the accused actions of her brother. The media slowly begins to view Saori as nothing but a newsworthy scoop, constantly stalking and searching every aspect of her personal life that could lead to some information regarding her brother. Due to the outward pressure from the media to explore every possible facet of her identity, disgruntled citizens begin to view her as an outlet to express their distaste for her brother’s accused actions. When she is put under the watch of police detective Takumi Katsuyoshi, it’s not because she needs to be questioned or evaluated—rather, it’s because she needs to be protected from the brashness of both the media and public.

With the ever-increasing use of the Internet to rapidly spread news throughout countless websites and social networks, Nobody to Watch Over Me relentlessly showcases the hazardous ramifications of such outlets. Presumptive actions displayed on part of the public and media concerning the entirety of the story eventually leads to some hugely dangerous misunderstandings. Misinformation and disinformation are increasingly showcased throughout the film concerning Saori and her family—which is interesting to note because it’s really not them that caused the situation they’re in. Infatuated with discovering why her brother has been accused of such heinous acts, the media constantly shifts and revaluates putting their blame on the family for his supposed violent actions. Jumping to steady conclusions, the mere assumption that the brother has only been accused of the crime—not guilty of it—is sadly overlooked, instead replaced with overt scrutiny by the media that ultimately pervades the family structure and even the police investigation.

This approach by the film to bring awareness to the issue of media scrutiny is an important one primarily due its eventual breakdown of the family unit, ultimately forcing family members to stand alone in a time in which they need each other the most. This is amply shown when another tragedy occurs in which, due to the inner-politics of the police investigation, Saori is not even allowed to visit her own family due to the media presence outside their house. This eventually affects Takumi as well, whom we later learn has had his own dark past to contend with, and the film integrates his journey of redemption through his developing relationship with Saori. Their relationship shares a common connection—that of trying to comprehend the unfortunate circumstances they’ve experienced in their lives, which showcases they have more in common than initially thought. This relationship is kept to a minimum though, and it doesn’t necessarily flourish the way one would expect. While Saori’s situation is front and center throughout a majority of the film, it does take somewhat of a back step towards the end in regards to furthering the exploration of Takumi’s past, with the end result focusing on combining the two to present a rather unconventional conclusion. While Takumi’s past was important, it ultimately seem to somewhat distract from the main story, but it does bring it back to full focus towards the end.

Overall, Nobody to Watch Over Me is an eye-opening film focusing on the detachment of human understanding concerning the media in our modern era—especially in regards to the individual and subsequent family structure. While the promotion of sensationalism has and will probably remain a strong component of the media infrastructure, its influential effects on the individuals outside of the accused is a side not often times viewed within cinema. While we might as public viewers scoff, ridicule, and judge the accused of a crime before knowing proper information to make such a claim, what about the coping of the family? Aren’t their emotional struggles something to be considered? Do we ever think of how we could possibly find ourselves in a similar situation? If so, is this how we would like to be treated? Nobody to Watch Over Me actively explores the tangible as well as psychological influences that the media exerts on even the most vulnerable and innocent of our society, bringing forth some crucial ethical questions for us to consider in the process.

Trailer

Nobody to Watch Over Me trailer