cokesque

Synopsis

A decade after Japan’s “Great Defeat” in World War II, when the occupying forces of Nazi Germany have finally left the country¹, Japan is overrun by anti-government protesters, including a large, well-organized, and heavily-armed guerrilla organization known as The Sect. In response to these terrorists, the government has established the paramilitary Capital Police and its elite Special Unit.

During an operation in the city sewers, Special Unit rookie Constable Fuse Kazuki encounters one of the teenage girls—known as “Little Red Riding Hoods”—The Sect uses to transport bombs. When Fuse hesitates to kill someone so young and seemingly innocent, the girl detonates the bomb against her chest, knocking out power to much of the city. Fuse, in his Special Unit battle armor, is barely injured.

Fuse is sent back for retraining and is kept under close watch by various government factions seeking to use him in their political infighting. He is haunted by his memories of the dead girl and seeks out her identity. In so doing, he meets her older sister, Kei, and finds himself falling in love.

Impressions

Jin-Roh is one of the more ambitious anime films in recent years. Written by Ghost in the Shell director Oshii Mamaru and directed by Production IG’s Okiura Hiroyuki, the film is often likened to Hitchcock’s Vertigo, both for obvious plot similarities and for their retellings of old legends.

In the case of Jin-Roh, the legend is obviously Little Red Riding Hood, specifically the grisly Brothers Grimm version². It is here that the film ultimately becomes too heavy-handed with metaphor, blasting viewers with conversations about men and wolves, about leaving the pack, about “Red Riding Hoods” and the “Wolf Brigade.” Above all, strained dream sequences drip with violent and obvious foreshadowing.

As much as I dislike the oppressive use of wolf imagery, the one part I appreciate is perhaps the most important to the success of the film. At intervals throughout, the on-screen action is set to a voice-over of Kei reading from Little Red Riding Hood. Her voice—at least in the Japanese version—is so dispassionate and haunting that it ties the film together far more than any grotesque and explicit visual could. It’s a pity Oshii (or Okiura) could not restrain his desire for dream sequences.

Even so, the film succeeds for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is the gorgeous art. At the time of its release, Jin-Roh was expected to be the last completely hand-drawn Japanese feature, and the love shows. The meticulously detailed backgrounds capture a worn and weatherbeaten Tokyo that never was. The animation, from the calamitous riot that opens the film to the way Kei stumbles as she attempts to walk down a sliding board in a deserted playground, is restrained yet detailed, giving the mundane as much attention as the extraordinary.

Combined with the careful vocal performace of Kei’s seiyuu, the subtle animation reveals a weak and somewhat dim girl, who paddled out into the sea of political revolt only to find herself swept away by the tide, clinging to a lone piece of driftwood, Fuse, and searching for the now distant shore.

See, I can talk in strained metaphors, too. What big eyes you have!

No, Jin-Roh is not Hitchcock. It is too clumsy, with too little sense of humor. Everything associated with Oshii tends to be excessively overt with its themes, from Ghost in the Shell to the live-action Avalon. But while there is certainly room for improvement, it’s impossible for me to suggest that Jin-Roh is not a worthy film.

Random Thoughts

There is one bit of animation that bugs the hell out of me. If you watch the behind-the-scenes-at-Studio-Ghibli footage on the Spirited Away DVD, you’ll see that Miyazaki takes his animators to a veterinary clinic so they can study how a dog moves (specifically, how to force open its mouth to give it medicine). And he goes through all of this trouble for what amounts to a few seconds of screen time.

One of the dream sequences in Jin-Roh shows a wolf jumping down out of a pipe in the sewer. It is the most awkward, unrealistic shot of the entire film, so awful that it jars me out of my immersion every time. C’mon, you’re friggin’ Production IG, haven’t any of you seen a dog jump out of a truck or off a couch or something? Watch a nature show, guys. Sheesh.

Notes

¹ Yes, I know Germany never occupied Japan. It’s an alternate reality.

² Rötkappchen. It seems the primary purpose for the whole Nazi occupation premise is to make this connection to a German fairy tale. Well, that and the stormtrooper look of the Special Unit.

- 2005-12-11 21:46 -