Being the dutiful fan I am I prefer retail copies of DVDs over downloading as long as they’re available in English but when I’m paying for something I want to be confident it’ll be worthwhile. Keeping the receipt is the easy answer but when shelf space and money are at a premium I want series and movies to be ‘rewatchable’. I’m kinda elaborating on this comment, at any rate.
I can watch some stuff, such as The Place Promised…, Laputa and Paprika over and over; I’ve watched others once but they’ve sat gathering dust ever since. There are one or two purchases that I actually regretted, despite the titles themselves being very good. Actually, they were…too good for their own good.
I saw The Sixth Sense on TV years ago and Shutter Island recently at the cinema so, since the appeal of mystery-style stories relies so much on the twist endings, I can’t see the point of watching them again. For most other things it’s about the journey not the destination, so there’s usually enough enjoyment to be had even when I know what happens.
There are some titles that I consider to be brilliant but ironically I’ve only watched once. It requires a bit of hurried explanation when recommending them to other people with “you have to see this! What? Hell no, I’d never sit through that again.” The wartime ones are the worst for this: I borrowed a copy of Apocalypse Now off a friend but would never get my own copy.
It really is a fantastic film though: it’s well acted, has stunning cinematography and right from the throb of helicopters blending in with that haunting song by The Doors it’s one of those memorable must-watch classics (yes, go see it if you haven’t already). Similarly, no self-respecting movie fan should go without watching Grave of the Fireflies. Again, it gets pretty much everything right: the artwork is fantastic, the direction fluid and the story deeply moving.
The fact that the story is deeply moving is its greatest strength, but it’s also a problem. Simply put, Grave of the Fireflies is too devastating to watch again and again. It’s an emotional tactical strike that unflinchingly hits you with the true horrors of twentieth-century warfare and its messages, quite rightly, will stay with you forever. I watched to the end in awe at a story well told, then asked myself “why would I want to put myself through this again?”
Saikano is another masterpiece of character drama and commentary on the nature of modern warfare (the artwork is a bit off at times, but that’s Gonzo for you). The characters are flawed yet engaging, the drama convincing and assuming you take the mecha musume-style element allegorically rather than literally, it’s one of the most affecting pieces of animated television of recent years. Again I was floored by it but only once, because I felt that one viewing told me all it wanted to say.
The strange thing is, I usually appreciate dark stories. Cyberpunk is often dystopian, Satoshi Kon’s humour is black as pitch and Kinoko Nasu puts his characters through bouts of pitiless suffering that make me wince. How are Apocalypse Now, Grave of the Fireflies and Saikano different from, say, Nausicaä and its post-apocalyptic setting or Nasu’s gothic-tinged supernatural thriller Kara no Kyoukai?
To quote the ever-eloquent Ursula le Guin, light is the left hand of darkness: the most rewarding stories for me are often dark ones that, at some point, offer hope. It’s probably not a spoiler to say the protagonists of Grave of the Fireflies do not survive since it’s pointed out in the first few minutes and Saikano has the whole of humanity self-destruct. As parables for the loss and utter waste of war I can’t fault them, but do I need to be told twice when it’s stated so clearly and effectively?
I can rewatch Kara no Kyoukai despite the death and suffering of people who quite often don’t deserve what comes their way mainly because the central character goes through self-discovery and redemption during the course of the series. Even though some characters meet their ends in undeserving fashion this journey feels satisfying because of the resolution; it’s about the sacrifices made and lessons learned. The villains are either punished or released from their inner turmoil, which gives their downfalls significance.
Similarly Nausicaä is possibly Miyazaki’s most downbeat movie thematically apart from Mononoke Hime but again, there’s a promise of new life growing out of the ashes of the old in both cases. This is where the divergence happens for me: all I take away from the Saikanos is a clear message of waste and innocence lost. I’m not denying that their messages deserve to be heard but I don’t need to be made to feel miserable to get the point.
It’s obvious that War Sucks: innocent people suffer and die for nothing when the same objectives could be achieved through peaceful means. Being told just this on its own doesn’t offer much else to the table, no matter how pretty the artwork or how convincing the characters are.
Futatsu no Kurumi, a.k.a. Two Walnuts, is another historical wartime drama; this time a twelve-year old goes back in time and experiences the horrors of the 1945 firebombing of Tokyo first-hand.
It’s not a great movie. The artwork’s simplistic, the animation looks cheap and the direction is clumsy in that the CRY HERE moments feel manipulative on the part of the writers. In fairness it’s probably intended to be an educational film for today’s kids who won’t know a thing about what wartime Japan was like for youngsters of their age but that’s the point: it’s intended to be educational (I learned a thing or two about the Japanese WW2 home front from this too). Crucially the protagonist takes something away from her harrowing experiences: she learns from the events and is changed by them.
I like dark and angsty stories; not because of the darkness alone but because bigger lows have more relevance when next to some highs – it’s about contrast. A piece of music that uses dynamic changes, i.e. alternating very loud and very quiet passages, moves me more than pieces that are either loud or quiet all the way through. Narratives, either in a film or in written word for that matter, work the same way.
The issue is complicated by many other factors of course, such as whether the visuals and music are easy on the eyes and ears or how how well you relate to the characters. When I see them lost, uncertain or in pain I can sit through it if I feel confident that, even if things don’t turn out well in the end, their experiences will at least mean something. There’s more to storytelling than merely making you laugh, cry or perch yourself on the edge of your seat: I prefer the characters and the viewers to walk away with something they didn’t have at the beginning, even if much was lost along the way.
I rewatch shows regularly, and even more freqently I rewatch favorite episodes of shows — or even just favorite moments. Sometimes a post (like this) will make me remember love for one particular thing in a show I’ve seen and suddenly I just have to see it!
As far as war goes, I find myself ever more drawn to the sometimes goofy portrayal of it in Mobile Suit Gundam. I consume all sorts of materials, meta-text/para-text to feed my lust for the war in the Universal Century. Like some of the works you cited, Gundam seems hopeful. However, it often seems that hope is the only reward purchased with the currency of so much suffering and misery.
And yes, there are them big robot things too.
Yeah, I weigh up the benefits (based mostly on rewatch potential) every time before I buy an anime DVD. Or, like with some music, the weird fetish element of wanting to own something special, like a well-made box set with lots of superfluous extras that still really hit the spot (the SynchPoint FLCL boxset being prime example – I had all the single releases anyway!). Bargains like the Anime Legends sets Beez are releasing are also very difficult to resist. A whole series of something generally good at a very affordable price is uber enticing for me.
The too-difficult to watch again idea is also a factor, though one I haven’t encountered yet personally. I love the emotional ‘challenge’ of films like Grave of the Fireflies because anything that can make you feel that deeply is worth having on hand for the moment you forget how harrowing/draining/etc it is and naively decide to try again. It’s obstinate and probably sadomasochistic but I think there’s a lot merit in anything that can make you feel extremes, regardless of whether they’re good or bad.
The SaiKano anime, however, is a problem for me. The manga is one of my true favourites so I’m forever bias in that typical ‘loved the original’ sort of way, but I felt it was objectively lacking in the same way Bokurano’s anime didn’t quite get there. But then manga occupies a similar space as novels in that you’re much freer to project personally onto it and focus on certain feelings/directions that the more controlled nature of film or anime doesn’t allow.
Rewatching is a funny business. There’s always the urge to relive the same highs and lows of a story again, but surely you don’t need to see the whole thing again to do so, and ghostlightning mentions just rewatching specific episodes for that purpose. I’ll rewatch old shows with friends because the experience will then be new, but that only applies to a small amount of the time.
I think I can identify one memory in my life that crystalized for me what revisiting great works is all about: a teacher in high school I looked up to once said that he would read his favorite book once every five years (the title I now can’t recall except that it was generally well regarded fiction written by a Russian). He said he greatly enjoyed it when he was a young man, but he couldn’t possibly mine all it had to offer in one reading. Time changes people; events don’t change, but our perspective does. Revisiting our favorite something (whether it be music, TV show, or book) is like opening a time capsule; it’s not just re-experiencing something we like, it’s a reflection on the us from back when.
Like Ghostlighting, I’ll tend to watch favorite episodes rather than an entire series. I am unlikely to rewatch “sad” shows, but that’s the way I’m wired. I’ve avoided Grave of the Fireflies because I hear it’s a downer. I’ll watch it someday as part of my overall anime education.
I enjoyed the anime Bokurano very much, while admitting the flaws. Recently I went back to watch an old episode and thought “Why should I subject myself to this pity and fear again?”
There are exceptions. I once sang Benjamin Britten’s “War Requiem,” a devastating piece of music that I couldn’t get out of my head for almost a year afterwards. Every few months I’ll get in the mood to grieve properly and put on the CD. I think that’s what it is with artworks like these: catharsis.
IMHO (or In My Little World) rewatchability and quality are independent. I’ll happily rewatch the You’re Under Arrest OVAs for the fifth time, while much better works just sit there gathering dust. Partly it’s a matter of genre: if slice-of-life is the easiest thing to rewatch, realistic war movies must be one of the hardest. Even fantasy riffs on real-world wars like Now and Then, Here and There are more than I can face a second time.
I’ll probably rewatch Zipang at some point, despite its lack of a proper ending, because it’s more of a military-procedural and has a nice element of suspense, and because it doesn’t leave my nerves raw and flayed. But here are the Great Ones that I’ll probably never rewatch:
Grave of the Fireflies • Jin-Roh • Barefoot Gen • Now & Then Here & There
And for those who like it 3D, Kon Ichikawa’s Fires on the Plain. Yeowtch.
@Ghostlightning: for whatever reason, I’ve yet to get into Gundam; I tried double 0 but it didn’t do much for me. Macross on the other hand, as you well know, is able to convey some powerful messages concerning warfare and personal drama but be watchable at the same time. In contrast I can devour Macross like a bored spinster with a bar of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk. Go figure!
@Hige: I bought the R1 box of FLCL, only to see the UK version come out a few months later! As much as I prefer thinpaks for the shelf space I’m willing to pay extra for stuff I know and love. Point taken on the Saikano manga though…it’s on my ‘to read’ list partly because the ending is allegedly somewhat different from the anime version. I can imagine it working well in print anyway, since it’s so character-driven. At only three volumes long as well, I think I’ll give it a go.
@kadian1364: I’ve not experienced this as often as I’d like, but I know where you’re coming from. Digging out music CDs I haven’t listened to for ages gives a similar sensation, especially when it brings back memories of when I first heard it. Sometimes I rewatch Miyazaki’s Laputa or one of Satoshi Kon’s films, just to remind myself why I became a fan of this animu lark in the first place!
@Peter S: it’s a shame that Grave of the Fireflies’ reputation makes it offputting because it’s a beautiful film. Unless you watch it as it was shown originally in cinemas, i.e. as a double feature with My Neighbour Totoro. That way, the latter will cheer you up! Catharsis is a big part of this sort of thing – it’s less about entertaining and more about informing people about certain issues. If you approach Grave of the Fireflies (an act of atonement on the part of the original story’s writer, so I’ve heard) as an education in that sense it might help. Stories like this need to be told, and need to be heard; whether or not we *want* to hear them.
@ojisan: absolutely. There are some that are enjoyable but not objectively good and some that are the reverse; ideally the best thing is to be both high quality AND fun to rewatch but there’s no shame in doing one or the other. I’ve heard so many good things about Now and Then, Here and There and Barefoot Gen – so much about them is Relevant To My Interests but I’ve yet to summon the courage to watch them. Maybe if I have some mindless, slapstick comedy to watch afterwards I could manage it…
The best place to start Gundam, considering what I know about you, is the Movie trilogy of the original series. It’s where Hige, otou-san, pontifus, and Owen started — as I pointed them towards. They’ve all gone one to enjoy the other shows within the UC continuity (in narrative order).
I can email you the guide I prepared for them no problem. Trust me, because I DROPPED like 9 Gundam shows before I properly got myself into the franchise. Well, I dropped Eureka SeveN after 7 eps too, but 2 years later I rewatched it and now it’s my 2nd best favorite series ever.
I’d like to hear your thoughts on Shutter Island. I just saw it a couple of weeks ago and thought that it was very well produced. The pacing (though a bit slow and dragged on during some parts) was very well timed with the action and the build up of the suspense. My favorite aspect of the film was definitely its cinematography. Beautiful, luscious colors really brought out the surrealist setting of Leo’s dream sequences. I love that the ending managed to be shocking but completely logical once revealed.
I briefly discussed it recently on my other blog but yeah, I really liked it. The atmosphere was effective, the pacing was mostly well done and the camerwork was excellent too. I suppose I find films like that to be like hearing a good joke that inevitably lacks the same impact the second time around.
For me, watching war anime always went hand in hand with actually going to the places where it happened. I grew up on WWII history and served in Japan with the U.S. Navy for 15 years so it was natural to want to watch Barefoot Gen then actually go and find the places where the author actually walked, lost his family, was shielded by that stone wall from being killed.
A most profound moment for me was standing at the very spot where artist Osamu Tezuka survived the March 13, 1945 fire bombing of Osaka at the ruins of the Imperial Arsenal Complex. He had been punished for slacking off of work and drawing Western style cartoons. He escaped being killed in a bomb shelter along with the rest of those in that factory by mere chance.