Japanese Masters - Review of Omohide poro poro
(Studio Ghibli DVD Video)
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Yannick Florian Hill
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The Japanese animation house Studio Ghibli was widely feted in Britain following the critical and commercial success of Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away, a fantasy anime that took western audiences by storm with its masterful hand-drawn animation, difficult characters, and uncanny goings-on. Curious, then, that following the film's rapturous reception worldwide, and given the recent theatrical release of Miyazaki's newest effort, Howl's Moving Castle, British distributors have been so slow on the uptake. Since Spirited Away, only six other films from Studio Ghibli's catalogue have become available on DVD: four of them by Miyazaki, and one, The Cat Returns, directed by Hiroyuki Morita, a Ghibli rookie. The other release, Grave of the Fireflies, an anime about the life of a teenage boy and his younger sister in the aftermath of the firebombing of Japan during World War II, was directed by Isao Takahata, Miyazaki's realist counterpart and former collaborator. Takahata is Studio Ghibli's other master; and like Miyazaki, he deserves a UK audience. I should point out that Japanese DVDs have the same region code as UK discs; every Ghibli film available in Japan is subtitled in English, can be ordered over the internet and will play in your machine with no problems.
Omohide poro poro, which translates as Memories of Teardrops, is the story of Taeko, a 27 year old Tokyo office worker who decides she needs a break from city life and goes to stay with her sister-in-law in the countryside. On her arrival at a rural train station, Taeko is met by a friend of the family, Toshio; a young farmer who has come to pick her up in his car. The film cuts between the present, as Taeko helps out on the family farm and gets to know Toshio, and 1966, when Taeko is ten years old, growing up in Tokyo and dreaming of becoming an actress some day.
The present day sequences are characterized by vivid colours and virtuosic attention to detail by the animators: everything, from the way rain behaves on the window of a moving car to the body-language of someone falling in love, is exquisitely rendered. The sequences depicting Taeko's childhood are quite different. They are memories, often triggered by conversations Taeko is having in the present. The animation reflects this process of remembering; describing the past in de-saturated colours, the characters made up of delicate lines and drawn in an antique style; and everything fades out towards the edge of the frame.
Katsu Hoshi's score is romantic without being obtrusive, its variations reflects the time shifts in the narrative; and blends with the music 'within' the film, heard by characters as well as audience. When Toshio picks up Taeko in his car at the beginning of the film, he plays her a Hungarian folk song over the stereo, this becomes a recurring motif of the score, whether it is listened to by the characters, or interpreted orchestrally by Katsu Hoshi. The score also periodically takes its cues from music that Taeko is remembering; for example, theme music from a television programme she watched as a child.
But attempt to articulate what Omohide poro oro is 'about' would spoil the films effect. You must watch the film yourself, remember with Taeko her past, and share in her pleasure as she grows closer to Toshio.
Takahata understands both the pain of growing up and the insecurities of adulthood. His characters seem to exist outside the story; allowing them to think, feel and remember for themselves. You forget you are watching an animation, not because Omohide poro poro emulates life action, but because the film allows you to forget yourself, and escape for a while from the rational world.
To import this film, I recommend www.play.com








