#9: Once, When I Was Little, I Fell into a River.

(Spirited Away, Hayao Miyazaki, 2001)

My love for Spirited Away is something that I find hard to define. I'm not one of those people who worships the ground that Hayao Miyazaki walks on, and as such I don't automatically love every film he's ever made simply because he made it. My feelings about Howl's Moving Castle were decidedly lukewarm, and, in all honesty, I've never actually seen My Neighbor Totoro in its entirety. I just never have gotten around to it. But I really adore Spirited Away.

Part of it could be because the first time I saw it I was in high school and I had been taking Japanese. Though I didn't see the film in Japanese, I did feel like I was taking a step in learning more about Japanese culture and, I'll admit, it felt good. Or it could be that my mom and I saw it at the Bijou (for you non-Eugenians, that's our independent theater) and there weren't many other people there. For some reason it made it seem all the more personal. I also love that, even after seeing this film 10+ times, I'm still not entirely sure what any of it means. Probably because I'm not Japanese. There are aspects of it that I'm sure resonate really well with people who have lived their entire lives in Japan. I'm certain that there are symbols in this film that just don't translate to an American audience. And I think that element of the mysterious and exotic appeals to me.

For me, Spirited Away ends up being a beautifully illustrated and whimsically told story about a young girl who wants to get her parents back. She meets interesting "people" (I use that term extremely loosely), does interesting things, and has a great adventure. And there's a dragon. I'm a sucker for dragons. I don't feel like I need to understand exactly what's happening and what the symbols mean to appreciate the sweeping, colorful beauty of Miyazaki's art. Because, ultimately, that's what Spirited Away is. Wonderful, colorful, whimsical moving art.

---

Let me start by saying that by no means do I think Spirited Away is a bad film. It's a weird film, to be sure, but it is definitely not bad. I like when animated movies, especially animated movies aimed at children, push the envelope, creating detailed story lines and complex characters, trusting kids to understand what they can and accept what they don't. And Spirited Away definitely does that.

Perhaps the biggest issue I had with Spirited Away was the hype. Just about every person I have spoken to about the film raved about how much they loved it, and how they found it so moving, and how it had changed the way they look at film. And I appreciate that everybody seems to like it. Heck, John Lasseter himself does the intro to the American version of the film on DVD. In short, there was no way this movie could live up to the hype unless it was a documentary showing the second coming of Christ, but it played like an episode of Doctor Who (By the way, who wouldn't want to see Jesus as the 12th Doctor? It would make for an interesting season, to say the least).

Alas, Spirited Away is not the greatest film I'd ever seen. Hayao Miyazaki clearly knows his way around a complex story, but despite the immense attention to detail, I found myself getting lost or confused several times. I found the way the story flowed to be a little off-putting, as it covered so much ground in so little time. Spirited Away is a very fast moving film, but I felt like it was jerking me around rather than allowing the story to flow cohesively.

Above all else in the film, and the one thing I took away from it, was the extremely awesome characters Miyazaki came up with. We have a talking frog, a weird ghost/man named No Face, a cross between a spider and an old guy, a Stink Spirit/River Spirit, a gigantic baby, humans who turn into pigs, and twins with awkwardly proportioned heads and bodies. Watching all of these characters (supplied with their American voices by an amazing cast including Suzanne Pleshette and David Ogden Stiers) interact with one another is absolutely fascinating, even if it doesn't make sense at times.

So what did I think of Spirited Away? I'd have to say I like the film, but not nearly as much as everyone seemed to think I would. That's okay, but it was still kind of a letdown. I wanted to fall into the story, but I couldn't quite get into it.

#6: I Am Terribly Drunk...

(Throne of Blood, Akira Kurosawa, 1957)

Macbeth, on which Throne of Blood is based, is not my favorite Shakespeare play. That distinguished honor goes to King Lear. But Throne of Blood is my favorite Kurosawa adaptation of any Shakespearean work (we'll discuss Ran at a later date). I know that's kind of an odd statement to make, but I kind of feel like this blog is a safe place for odd statements to congregate. But I digress.

The most entertaining thing about Throne of Blood is how seamlessly Kurosawa is able to take something that was written in 17th century England and convert it to feudal Japan. The system of government at that time was remarkably similar, and Kurosawa is able to recognize the importance of a warrior based culture in both settings. What we get as a viewer is something that feels wholly unique. Even if you've read Macbeth, or seen it performed, Throne of Blood is a very different experience, although a familiar.

Most of the credit for this fact can be placed squarely on the shoulders of Toshiro Mifune and his portrayal of Washizu, the Macbeth character. He brings a level of intensity that is palpable, showing immense greed and hubris while still finding time to scream at his underlings in a bug-eyed rage. It's a tour-de-force performance, helped largely by an extremely imposing presence.

That said, Mifune doesn't carry the movie alone (although he probably could). His Lady Macbeth (Asaji, played by Isuzu Yamada) is an excellent femme fatale who seems even crazier than anything Shakespeare ever concocted. His friend, Miki (the Banquo character, played by Minoru Chiaki) is the innocent bystander who is brought along for the ride, willingly or not.

But despite these standout performances, the true star of this movie is Kurosawa's direction. In the hands of a lesser director, Throne of Blood would fall flat, appearing to try too hard to be something it's not. Instead, Kurosawa made ample use of the fog that shrouds Mount Fuji (where the film was shot), giving everything an immediate air of mystery and deception. Nothing inherently scary ever happens, but the viewer is tense the entire time, expecting something to come raging out of that fog. The best part is that you don't even see it until a forest is descending on Washizu's castle, and he realizes he's at his end.

---

Okay, I'll be honest and start by saying this: Throne of Blood probably would have been a lot better if I had, you know, payed attention to it. When we watched Throne of Blood I had just purchased a new game for my computer and, needless to say, found it very distracting. Which normally would be alright, except that Throne of Blood is directed by Kurosawa, which means it's in Japanese, which means there are subtitles, which means that actually paying attention is kind of crucial. I know that this kind of goes against the spirit of our whole experiment here, but seeing as we have 994 more films to watch we figured that we could just let it go and try harder with the next subtitled film.

For those of you who don't know, Throne of Blood is Kurosawa's adaptation of William Shakespeare's Macbeth. We watched it when we did because I'd just spent about 5 weeks reading and analyzing Macbeth and was inhumanly excited about it because I'm such a nerd. So we watched Throne of Blood. And what I saw of it was pretty amazing.

I'm always intrigued to read or watch different adaptations of well known stories, and because Shakespeare's work has been around so long it lends itself especially well to adaptation. I think that what I like so much about these various adaptations is seeing what things are changed when the material is placed in different hands. Obviously, Kurosawa chose to set Throne of Blood in Japan and recast the title king as a samurai. Big surprise. I don't think anyone was or will ever be surprised by that. That's fine. What I found that I liked so much about this film was that all of the other changes to the story were really, well...cool. For example, instead of three unholy witches, Kurosawa used a single old woman as a ghostly forest spirit. And instead of the film opening with her, she is not seen until Washizu (the Macbeth equivalent) and General Miki (essentially Banquo) find her in the forest. And the scene is absolutely breathtaking. It's beautiful and chilling, exactly as it should be.

However, probably the best change made by Kurosawa is the way that Washizu dies. Rather than being beheaded (by the character of Macduff in the original story), Washizu is shot repeatedly by his own archers. The death is spectacular, and made even more striking by the intense fear on Washizu's face. What makes it even more striking is that all the fear the audience sees is real, as all of the arrows shot that don't make contact are real arrows that are actually being shot at the actor playing Washizu. It is no longer acting, but true fear of being impaled by incoming projectiles.

Looking back on Throne of Blood I know I've done myself a disservice by not giving in the attention it deserves. So, I say right now, that someday, when I don't have 994 other films waiting to be watched, I'll come back to it and give it my undivided attention.