In film editing, crosscutting is the technique of cutting between actions occurring at the same time, but in different locations. In Los Angeles, the entertainment capital of the world, foreign cinema rarely takes the spotlight from the plethora of local releases. Columnist Eileen Li discovers foreign cinema screenings in the L.A. area each week, placing them in context of their native country.
The classic Japanese animation film “Akira” can be found online with ease, but the film’s collection of sports motorcycle battle scenes and telepathic explosions will seem severely cramped on a relatively tiny laptop screen.
On Friday at midnight, the Nuart Theatre will provide filmgoers with a rare chance to experience Katsuhiro Otomo’s 1988 science fiction action thriller in a theater setting. Brimming with otherworldly science fiction elements including human experimentation, callous violence and a ruined cityscape, “Akira” is at its most jarring on the big screen.
The main source of the appeal of “Akira,” however, is not in its flashy action sequences. Instead, it comes from its portrayal of a society recovering from war. Unlike many TV shows of the Japanese animation style, which vary in quality and tend to feature fluffier subject matter, Japanese anime films have a consistent level of output and can stand alone as artwork. When portraying war, an integral part of Japan’s 20th century history, many Japanese animation films including “Akira” and Studio Ghibli’s “The Wind Rises” invent scenes of violence and horror, only to search for hope and rebirth amidst the desperation.
Set in the post-apocalyptic Neo-Tokyo of 2019, “Akira” follows three groups – a military group, a revolutionary group and a high school motorcycle gang led by Shotaro Kaneda – who race to find Tetsuo Shima, a former motorcyclist who has attained psychic powers along with the ability and desire to cause serious mass destruction. A government secret called “Akira” lingers in the background of the film, a foreboding, mysterious entity that caused both Tokyo’s destruction and the start of World War III in 1988.
Otomo crafts several unexpectedly grotesque scenes in “Akira,” toning up the explicitness of the film as the story progresses. These culminate in a scene in which the character Shima swells into a giant mass of flesh that swallows everyone it comes in contact with.
Despite these stylistic choices, the message of “Akira” is an optimistic one. Shima, formerly Kaneda’s best friend, seems to be engulfed by his newfound power and threatens to renounce his humanity. Kaneda’s friendship, however, may be enough to redeem him.
This kind of treatment of the dichotomy of war and beauty appears commonly in Japanese animation films about war. Studio Ghibli, a Japanese animation studio with a distinct style of animation, explores the same topic through its usage of art.
Studio Ghibli’s earlier work, 1988’s “Grave of the Fireflies,” and recent work, 2013’s “The Wind Rises,” were both based on the events of World War II. Both are linear narratives infused with some reflection, either in beautiful dream sequences or in calm depictions of the afterlife. The overall effect is optimism.
In “The Wind Rises,” a biopic of plane designer Jiro Horikoshi, the protagonist is largely removed from the events of the war. His dreams are tarnished by images of the destruction caused by his planes, which at first look beautiful and clean but eventually become tools that belch bombs and destroy their passengers. Throughout the film, he tries to reconcile his love for aeronautic design and his hatred for violence. His days are spent creating art and spending time with his wife, who gives his life focus despite his internal conflict.
Studio Ghibli’s portrayal of war in “The Wind Rises” is poignant because despite the realism employed in telling Horikoshi’s story, it takes advantage of the animation art form to separate the beautiful from the horrifying events of war, always maintaining an air of hopefulness.
In “Akira,” science fiction story elements take a backseat to the film’s reflection on destruction and rebirth. No matter how tragic the story, no Japanese animation war film depicts the events of war without an overwhelmingly resolute attitude of hopefulness.