Anime and Philosophy

by Josef Steiff

  Previews and Coming Attractions

  Believe It!

  Ghosts in the machine. Atomic-powered heroes. Pubescent girls programmed to kill. Children who disobey their parents. Brothers trying to protect their little sisters.

  Anime has become a worldwide phenomenon, painting its stories across a variety of genres, eras, and landscapes, as well as influencing live action filmmakers like the Wachowski Brothers and Quentin Tarantino.

  If life has no purpose, then you’re already dead.

  —Kiba, Wolf’s Rain

  In the following pages, we will examine some of the most loved, best-known, and intriguing anime in order to find what lies at their core, underneath the typical but by no means ubiquitous visual elements of big eyes, big hair and bright colors. Akira, Armitage the Third, Astro Boy, Chrno Crusade, Dragon Ball Z, Fooly Cooly, Fullmetal Alchemist, Ghost in the Shell, Grave of the Fireflies, Gunslinger Girl, Highlander, La Blue Girl, Magnetic Rose, Mobile Suit Gundam, My Neighbor Totoro, Nausicaa of the Valley of The Wind, Neon Genesis Evangelion, and Spirited Away are just a few of the films you’ll find here. Some you may have heard of, others may be completely new to you.

  But don’t be fooled, these are not children’s stories. These are stories about monsters, witches, robots, children, and spirits who grapple with questions of societal violence, ethics, morality, justice, heroism, identity, and the soul, whether in the midst of World War II or long after World War III, whether in a magical valley or on a malevolent space station.

  If you’ve been wondering why so many people love anime or even if you’re already a true otaku, we hope this book will give you a deeper appreciation for not just the art but also the storytelling of Japan’s animated films, TV series, and OVA.

  May those who accept their fate be granted happiness; to those who defy it, glory.

  —EDEL, Princess TuTu

  This book wouldn’t be possible without our contributors, including the work of three artists: Shane, whose cover design links with our companion volume, Manga and Philosophy; Amada, who created our title page and “special features” divider for the appendixes, and Neko, who drew inspiration from the chapters to create a unique divider for each of the book’s seven main sections. In addition, we would like to thank Margo Coughlin Zimmerman, Manga Entertainment, and Jackie Smith at FUNimation Entertainment for their support and enthusiasm. A big thanks goes to Series Editor George Reisch, Editorial Director David Ramsay Steele, Victor Cotic, Andrew Dowd, and the herd of Mount Pleasant Caribou (Steven, Laura, Joe, Jori, Jeni, Kari, Jen, Cassie, Stephanie, Megan and Dillon) who kept the caffeine coming.

  Chrno, the map is upside-down.

  —AZMARIA, Chrno Crusade

  For Western audiences, anime refers only to those animated films, television series, and direct-to-DVD releases that originated in Japan. But in Japan, anime is a more generic term that means any type of animation, regardless of whether it was produced in Japan or another country. This book will address animation that originates in Japan.

  If you are new to anime, you may not know that the traditional Japanese sequence of one’s name is to have the family name or surname first, followed by the given name. In other words, in Japanese culture, your editors’ names would be written Steiff Josef and Tamplin Tristan. However, most anime that is marketed outside of Japan has the filmmakers’ names sequenced in the Western tradition, putting the given name first. Granted, this is less authentic to Japanese culture, but for Western readers, this approach can be less confusing. Likewise, this book is being marketed mainly outside of Japan as well, so we will be following the Western tradition of name sequence.

  Accidental Anime

  MARGO COUGHLIN ZIMMERMAN

  If you’re reading this book, it’s because you’re a fan of anime or want to know more about it. Be it a result of the films’ complexity, the beauty of their images, stories based in mythology and philosophy, cultural artistic inspiration, the range of tastes from Astro Boy to Urotskidoji, or your appreciation for Japanese culture, anime has captivated you, and you may not understand why others don’t recognize its value as you do.

  When I first began working for Manga Entertainment, a well-respected pioneer in anime distribution, I was not familiar with anime. I imagine that I’d seen reference to it in passing; the big eyes, bright colors, and sometimes sexy female characters. I do remember being aware of the fanciful outfits some women in Tokyo had been wearing, carrying around stuffed animals, their hair in pig tails and faces in bright make-up, some even more overtly dressed as “the sexy schoolgirl.” I had heard stories of their high platform shoes, which had almost become a competition among the Harajuku girls, causing them ankle breaks. But those references did nothing to scratch the surface or prepare me for true anime. At Manga Entertainment, a fantastical world was opened up to me.

  I was in film school at the time and looking to get my foot in the door somewhere in the entertainment world. Though I started at the bottom, answering phones, sending packages, and doing other general office work, over the next several years I was able to work my way up to post production and international distribution.

  Homework!?!?!?

  I remember being sent home that first day with a stack of DVDs to watch. This was my “homework,” and I was so excited to discover this new (to me, at least) type of film. My boss suggested I begin with Ninja Scroll. He thought it would be the easiest to understand and relate to, from a Western perspective.

  I loved it!

  I may have been surprised and confused by the adult themes contained in the framework of animation, but I was thoroughly entertained with Jubei’s quest to find the Shogun of the Dark, battling the eight Devils of Kimon, each more fearful and superhuman than the last. Jubei is an attractive, unflappable hero, who saves the damsel in distress. Each “devil” is a creative and powerful foe in unexpected ways, from an indestructible rock man to a snake lady with deadly venom. For an anime virgin, this tale has everything you could want in a movie: beautiful animation, good performances and writing, action, sex, romance and monstrous villains.

  With my new vigor and excitement for this world I had been lucky enough to join, I’m pretty sure I irritated the rest of the Manga staff. I expected to be involved in every meeting and give my opinion on any undertaking to help the group. I may have stepped on some toes with my unquenchable thirst to learn and do more. Thankfully, the head of marketing took pity on me and began to include me in some of the editing sessions for trailers. Being one of the only Manga staff with any film background, it seemed to me a natural choice.

  We worked into the night and on weekends to perfect the trailer that would support the theatrical release for Perfect Blue. I will never forget working on the copy and bones of the trailer and then finding the right clips and the best combination with music and voiceover to create this compelling piece. This was one of my favorite memories, and I learned so much working with our editor, whose day job was also as one of the Oprah show’s editors.

  Art Is Still a Business

  Perfect Blue is the story of Mima, a young, pretty pop star, who quits her girl group to star in a sexually-charged TV show. One fan in particular does not agree with her choice and begins stalking her. As a result, Mima sinks into a state of paranoia, where she is lost between reality and delusion. This compelling thriller sucked me in immediately.

  The company set up a private screening in a local theater in Chicago, my first “private screening.” I felt transported into the inner sanctum of the entertainment world. I was amazed and energized. The film was so cool; I just couldn’t imagine everyone not loving it. I was proud to be a part of bringing it to the public.

  Perfect Blue was definitely considered an “Art House” picture and so only a few prints would be made, traveling slowly around the country. Our goal was to create awareness of the film and a buzz to hopefully spur DVD sales. And then we got a call from Madonna’s “people.” They wanted permission to show clips of Perfect Blue as backgrou
nd during the song, “What It Feels Like for a Girl,” for her tour. She had a huge screen on stage and had a few clips of different anime films, including the hentai [AKA anime pornography], film Urotskidoji. I remember thinking, “This is going to be huge. People are going to clamor to buy the Perfect Blue DVD.” But I was wrong. It had only modest sales by Hollywood standards, though the box office was respectable for the anime genre.

  Coming out of film school, you have these ideas that you’ll make films that will be artistic and intelligent, and somehow they’ll make blockbuster money. It took awhile to sink in that just because I considered this genre exciting and appealing, that doesn’t mean mainstream audiences will get it. The reality is that outside of Japan, anime is considered a small niche market. One of our goals was to find and develop a wider audience. I began to realize that it was one of our greatest challenges as well.

  For audiences in the West, anime refers to any animation project produced in Japan. However, the term “anime” is the word for animation in Japanese, so there it could refer to any type of animation, produced in any country. The term itself and our understanding of how and what it references, is an example of the difficulties in translating and adapting an anime project for non-Japanese audiences.

  Otaku

  Our small team of less then ten people, in the US office, worked hard on distribution. First we created the marketing materials, designed the poster, edited a trailer and determined how the film will be presented to buyers. Our theatrical distribution guru would work feverishly to get screenings for the film. With so much competition and the theater bookers having little knowledge of Japanese animation at the time, this proved difficult.

  When we would begin to translate a new project, there would often be many different ways to translate the same word, so we would choose what makes sense in context. This “true translation” is what would then be used for the subtitled version. For the dubbed version, we would start with this translated script and then work to create a new script, which would closely match the lip flaps and intonations of the character onscreen, attempting to stay as close to the translation as possible. However, in the early days of dubbing anime, it was often thought the practice should be to adapt the script to audiences not familiar with Japanese history, mythology, and sense of humor. Some jokes would be changed or references watered down to try and appeal to an unfamiliar audience.

  But as viewers became more sophisticated, the glimpse into another culture became an important reason that diehard fans watched. These otaku made their preferences known: authenticity over all else. This didn’t always work how you would imagine. For instance, in Perfect Blue there’s a scene where Mima is talking to her mother on the phone. Her mother is from the country and therefore speaks a different dialect than a person from Tokyo. To illustrate this, the voiceover actor was directed to put on an American “southern” accent to give the viewer the idea that her mother was from a different area and not the city. But many fans didn’t approve, and we did our best to keep adaptation changes to a minimum going forward.

  This is the harmony between business and art. It is necessary to keep the fans happy, but it’s not always possible. This was our challenge as a business: creating the balance to get projects distributed quickly, before they could be pirated, and to try to sell as many DVDs as we could to keep growing as a company. If we didn’t sell, then we couldn’t continue to bring new and exciting anime to the expanding audience outside of Japan.

  Who’s Running This Show?!?!?!

  Anime is such a niche market that otaku have felt a certain amount of ownership of the industry. Creating their own websites and blogging about the upcoming releases has steered the distribution and presentation of the films. Many fans are so excited about an upcoming release, they will buy it from Japan and produce their own “fan-sub,” which they’ll then either post to a website for free download or make copies and sell at the anime and manga conventions. In the interim, negotiations between the producers and potential distributors haven’t been completed, let alone delivery of everything needed to release the film in other territories.

  I don’t recall any project more contentious then Neon Genesis Evangelion. Evangelion is an apocalyptic series wherein a paramilitary organization, Nerv, fights monstrous beings called Angels, primarily using giant mecha called Evangelions which are piloted by select teenagers. We initially released the original conclusion to the twenty-four-episode series called Death and Rebirth, which included a recap of the first twenty-four episodes and an unfinished version of the conclusion. The fans were left confused, Director Hikeaki Anno felt unsatisfied, and the subsequent release, End of Evangelion, concludes the series more satisfactorily.

  Even then, there was criticism of the last line, which could have been translated several ways. “Kimochi warui” was translated for the Manga release as “How disgusting,” but could also be “I feel sick,” “I feel bad,” or even “I feel unwell.” The latter translation had been circulated prior to the Manga release, so there is a debate about Anno’s intentions for this line and how it effects the story. It’s also said that he had changed his mind several times, which complicates the intention. Others took issue with an addition of a line, where there was no corresponding Japanese line and the addition of some profanity, which hadn’t been used in other releases.

  Inspiration

  Art in its many forms will continue to struggle with this dilemma of being true, yet appealing to the masses so that you can profit and continue to create. How well you strike that equilibrium is often a matter of opinion.

  As other distributors decided that there might be some profit to be made with anime distribution, the market has become very crowded. Companies and individuals buy up anything they can from Japan, sometimes even producing their own anime-style projects to cash in. This extends from otaku showing up uninvited at our office to pitch their projects, all the way to Hollywood making films like The Matrix, with its obvious inspiration from Ghost in the Shell.

  Being a part of the anime world is a time I will never forget. Though I found anime accidentally, my perspectives on animation and storytelling in general have been blasted open. These are not “cartoons” in the American sense; these are commentaries on mythology, philosophy, post-apocalyptic survival, monsters, sex, nuclear power, and humanity as a whole. These are stories more easily told with animation, filled with images that could not be obtained without the limitless universe of animation.

  I have to think that anime has had an influence, not just on western film aesthetics but also on western storytelling, which holds the possibility of improving all visual, moving image and artistic media. I look forward to more complex storytelling in our films, animation, and television, as filmmakers challenge the audience more and refuse to “dumb down” in order to appeal to a mass market.

  My history with anime is filled with memories of great stories and challenges, some I had long forgotten. Blood: The Last Vampire is a project I saw through from script to screen, even working on the trailer, and I am so excited to see the live-action version after all this time of talking about and working on it. I miss my job, but I have taken time off to raise our two beautiful daughters, watching the latest Astro Boy film with them and introducing them to anime. I sincerely hope that people continue to embrace intelligent, fun storytelling, and like you, I look forward to keeping up with the cutting edge of animation. The future looks amazing!

  Body

  1

  Take a Ride on the Catbus

  SHANA HEINRICY

  I’m in love with Totoro. Since the first time I saw Hayao Miyazaki’s My Neighbor Totoro, I’ve dreamed of handing Totoro my umbrella to replace the giant leaf on his head while we wait together in the rain for the Catbus. We both laugh together as he stomps on the ground to make the water droplets from the trees fall on the newly discovered umbrella. When I have a bad day, I think about giving Totoro a big hug and grabbing onto his coarse fur while we fly above the forest. Wh
en I heard that Pixar had the Catbus in their lobby, I thought about taking a trip to go see it, but alas, I know it won’t really be the Catbus, not the one in my head. Other people, especially Miyazaki fans, like Totoro, but few understand why he comforts me so much. Totoro sparked my interest in the posthuman. You see, Totoro is a monster, as is the Catbus. I really love these monsters, but they are monsters nonetheless. The Catbus is a weird, contorted, hollowed out Cat-body that people can ride inside of. Creepy. Totoro is a big, bloated, furry thing inhabiting some sort of world outside of human or animal. Their bodies morph, change, and are much less stable than human bodies. What I like about Totoro and the Catbus are the possibilities that they offer, possibilities of what bodies may become and possibilities for rethinking bodies.

  Becoming Bodies

  Most people, especially in the West, fear changing bodies. Think of all the films that focus on zombies and vampires (bodies changing from human to something else) and cyborgs (human bodies intersecting with technology to become something else). How many times have Terminators tried to destroy life on Earth? How many zombie outbreaks have threatened existence? Scholars even have a term for this: “the grotesque.” The grotesque is bodies exceeding their boundaries. We like to pretend that bodies are a clear separation between the self and world and clearly bounded. In reality, things come in and out of our bodies all the time, food, waste, sweat, even lotions. When we see a body exceeding its boundaries, such as vomiting or bones sticking out in places they shouldn’t, that’s considered grotesque, and we recoil from it because it breaks the fantasy of a bounded body. This continues into more extreme or fantastical breaks in the boundaries of the body, such as cyborgs which are part machine and part organic or zombies which are part dead and part alive (zombies prefer the politically correct term: “undead”).