The TV show (and the graphic novel series, from what I’ve heard) was strictly episodic in structure, so any feature-length version has to splice a number of the individual stories together and smooth out the screenplay to make a coherent narrative. This is one thing that the movie does reasonably well: it features several story arcs that fans are familiar with but emphasises the background to Ginko’s childhood and its relevance to his present life in an over-arcing theme throughout the film. The cinematography is also excellent, but beyond that…I’m far from convinced.

Making a series of self-contained story arcs flow for over two hours is I imagine a tall order but it’s pretty well done here. My only complaint in that respect is the fact that the guy from the Rainbow episode becomes Ginko’s travelling companion for longer than he was in the TV series, which slightly undermines Ginko’s lonely traveller status. To my mind his solitary lifestyle is a significant part of his mystique, so having other people accompanying him through multiple story arcs doesn’t sit right with me.

Visually though Mushishi is wonderful. Ignoring the hints about when the events take place (I prefer the historical setting to be unspecified; it adds to the sense of timelessness that way), I couldn’t have wished for better atmospherics. The backdrop of towering mountains, isolated villages, green valleys and cool rivers is mysterious and haunting, and the CG mushi look better than I dared hope. In that sense, live-action works very well: these supernatural creatures come across as even more lifelike and convincing, perhaps because the world they inhabit is depicted in a way that’s closer to our reality than the animated medium. I prepared myself for cheap and shoddy CG, but my fears were fortunately unfounded: the mushi look as weird as they are wonderful.

My first encounter with Joe Odagiri was his apearance as the principal villain in Azumi, but needless to say his turn as Ginko is very different. His performance is suitably understated and charismatic, which leads me to believe he’s one of those actors whose enviable level of cult popularity is matched by a genuine on-screen talent and presence. He strikes me as one of those effortlessly cool, Johnny Depp-style actors, much like Tadanobu Asano; I’m sure he’d be able to handle Ginko’s more jovial moments, but sadly none of them are represented here.

One of my favourite episodes of the TV show was A Sea of Brushes. Tanyuu, the heroine of that story, was one of the most compelling of the entire show; I was therefore relieved at how spellbinding Yuu Aoi’s performance was. Between this and her role in All About Lily Chou-Chou, I’d say she’s a young actress to look out for in future. I’m sure others will be more familiar with her role in the live-action Honey And Clover though, so I’m tempted to watch that on her performance alone.

The other significant name on the credits list is of course that of Otomo himself, which was a major selling point in the DVD box art and what little general promotion it received over here. The only problem being, I rate Otomo more as a builder of concepts and less as a director. What I’ve read of the Akira manga is actually better than the movie; while the latter was (and in my opinion still is) a superlative cinematic experience, the plot was notoriously hard to understand. Similarly Steamboy had some interesting ideas and looked spectacular, but felt overlong; Mushishi too feels plodding and meandering. It’s an easy trap to fall into given the sedate and itinerant nature of the original story, and Otomo falls in headfirst.

Mushishi is by nature sedate, but boring it most certainly isn’t. During the movie I was checking the DVD timer at frequent intervals, which I NEVER did when watching the anime: the impact that mushi have on humans and the moments of tension when Ginko tries (not always successfully, I might add) to resolve the conflict between mushi and human, adds a sense of urgency and emotion to the idyllic rural setting. The anime takes serene tales half-hidden in the mists of time and makes them exciting and involving; the movie, well, doesn’t. Not for me, anyway.

Given that the humanity vs nature conflict, including examining scientific endeavours and their costs on the natural world, is an integral part of Otomo’s CV I honestly expected this aspect to be explored further. The premise of the story is that of a minority of humans who have a working knowledge of these mysterious creatures; it might not be science fiction but I can still imagine how it could fall into Otomo’s comfort zone of allegorical fantasy and portraying people who are struggling to understand the world around them.

I agree with Helen McCarthy in her view of the film in that Otomo is technically gifted and has an eye for cinematography but his direction lacks focus, perhaps because he is allowed too much free rein due to the respect he’s earned in earlier productions. There isn’t enough consideration for viewers unfamiliar with the material either: if I hadn’t seen the events shown here in their animated incarnation I think I’d be confused and frustrated at how little is explained in regards to the nature of the mushi and how they are relevant to the human world.

In live-action format the Mushishi worldview is every bit as ethereal and immersive as its animated made-for-TV counterpart, but after transporting me into that world so effectively, it disappointingly made me feel a bit bored. If the story wasn’t as familiar and dear to me as it is, I don’t know how much appeal it would’ve held: for all the subtle nuances in the performances and the beautiful camera work it still feels like a missed opportunity to bring a modern classic to a wider audience.

The Sound of Footsteps on the Grass isn’t the best episode in terms of emotional impact: there were several earlier occasions when the gravity of the events portrayed moved me to tears and left me speechless at how profound they were…not to mention of course episode #21, which wins in terms of unsettling creepiness with those mushi kids. In many ways this is ‘just’ another episode but it does offer some of those rare insights into Ginko’s early life, which is a neat bonus for those of us who have followed the series so far. Besides, any Mushishi episode delivers more than most anime anyway.

Although it is a tale of friendship (of the bromance variety) on one level, fundamentally this is a depiction of how humanity and the natural world are inexorably tied together; reiterating what the series has been saying from day one basically. On the edge of vision, like the floaters in the eye to which they bear an uncanny resemblance, the mushi are there…an integral part of nature. It’s strange to think that creatures that prop up the ecosystem on such a basic level, as ably demonstrated by their departure in the latter part of the episode and the hardships that result, are either taken for granted or misunderstood by most humans.

A nice addition to showing how the lives of the mushi affect those of humans is the sight of a younger Ginko as the child who has yet to become the gruff yet thoughtful expert we all know and love. I always thought of him as the lens we see the Mushishi universe through so it’s easy to forget he’s a character too; as a matter of fact, he’s as affected by them as anyone. His unusual appearance is a direct result of mushi contact and as such his authority and the empathy he feels for those similarly affected are even more deep and genuine: he was at the brink of death and now gets by with one eye missing yet he habours no malice towards them.

The bittersweet payoff from many of these stories, such as the rays of hope after the scars that will never heal in this one, is what makes Mushishi so wonderful thematically. Its episodic nature, itinerant proagonist and gentle pace remind me a lot of Kino’s Journey but while it shares the philosopical musings it lacks the brutality. Don’t get me wrong, Mushishi has its fair share of dark moments but the firm ecological grounding gives the viewer constant reassurance that everything is balanced and is all in the natural order of things.

Rather than portray the mechanics of human suffering and conflict it has a quintessentially Japanese approach that makes use of spirituality and the interplay between humanity and the world in which we live. The sense of understanding it uses to deliver its messages and address its issues means the viewer can even take comfort from the moments of sadness.

The scientific aspect of Mushishi isn’t a million miles away from your typical episode of House too I suppose. The hero identifies a problem after which the bulk of the episode goes through the symptoms and the drama surrounding them, then he works out an explanation which may or may not resolve the situation. The subject matter is varied enough to never be formulaic but it offers a whole tonne of potential for allegory and symbolism to make it relevant to any time or place as well.

I do love the timelessness of Mushishi. The rural settings make it hard to pin down when exactly these events are taking place but that’s really unimportant; the human element, and the immersive backdrop that Artland so excel in with this show, draw you into the environs in a way that few anime shows are able to achieve. The sense of passing years, between the time when two friends part and the time when a mutual acquaintance returns to come to the village’s aid, offers a sense of serenity and continuity; Ginko’s journey is still endless it seems, but the destination doesn’t matter because Nature has existed long before he or any of us were around and will continue as it always has done after we’re long gone.

The changes to the mountain are another series of very natural events that are far outside our control but interestingly also beyond the scope of mushi activity. Since Mount Fuji is itself a dormant volcano this sort of occurence is something that must sit somewhere at the back of many Japanese viewers’ minds; in any case it’s a plot point that is bigger than not only us but the semi-supernatural beings that exist in the Mushishi universe too. Far from mushi being an omnipotent life force they are a vulnerable component part of the ecosystem and at the mercy of larger events, just we are. The revelation that we – humans and mushi alike – are part of something bigger, more powerful and more destructive is a fine way to round off the series I think.

I really hope we get another season of this at some point. There are ten volumes in total I believe, so with only five fully adapted I’m sure there’s room for a few more OAV episodes, if not a full series; it’s a shame to think that those evenings rounded off with a 25-minute slab of atmospheric, thought-provoking excellence are now at an end. Unless of course I talk my friends and family around to watching it too because this is a series, above almost all others, that deserves every bit of attention and respect that comes its way. I’m going to miss this guy.