Quotes of the Day
In her role as a cartoon heroine in the new movie Cutie Honey, Eriko Sato pouts, giggles, and snuffs out a gang of villains who threaten to destroy Tokyo. It's exactly the kind of bubblegum part that might give a serious young actress second thoughts. But in Japan, where manga and animé characters are treated with almost spiritual reverence, stepping into Cutie Honey's go-go boots means becoming the custodian of a national treasure—and Sato, 22, is delighted with the assignment. "You really think I look like a cartoon character?" she bubbles, pinching her cheeks as if to prove to herself that she is real. "Thanks!"
With her big-eyed visage gazing down from the nation's billboards and Jumbotrons, Sato is the face of Japan's latest film fashion: a slew of classic cartoons remade as live-action movies. Forget about Spider-Man 2, this summer's much-hyped American comic-book film; Spidey is just a gaijin in a tight suit. From the lithe, demon-slaying Devilman to the clunky robot Iron Man 28, Japan has its own superhero pantheon that is ripe for recycling on the big screen. The Japanese love of cartoon heroes started with the birth in 1952 of Astro Boy and has continued unabated—the average citizen can rattle off superhero names and special powers like a bona fide comic-store geek. "It's a matter of pride for Japan to keep up with the U.S.," says Atsushi Ohara, a manga and animé critic for the daily Asahi Shimbun. "When it comes to superheroes, we don't like to be in second place."
The original Cutie Honey comic, which debuted in 1973, was an X-rated, gory riot of impossibly proportioned heroines and female villains doing battle in varying stages of undress. Cutie Honey herself was a voluptuous android barely in control of her own powers, whose girlish personality contrasted with her zeal for bloody combat. A subsequent animated TV series toned the action down to a Saturday-morning-cartoon level and introduced Cutie Honey to a much larger audience.
The new film, which opened in Japan last month, has more in common with this tamer version. "I wanted the movie to appeal to new audiences, not just fans of the original manga," says director Hideaki Anno. The result is a campy movie marked by performances that are so over-the-top you expect the actors to wink at the camera after every line. The special effects also reveal the movie's limited budget. Fight scenes are strangely static, and computer-generated visuals are unpolished. Despite a charming performance from Sato, much of the film seems devoted to giving people a chance to ogle her in an array of fetching costumes—and in all fairness, she does an excellent job of being oglable.
A darker and more ambitious piece of filmmaking is Casshern, which was released in April. Based on a 1970s animated series, the movie depicts an Orwellian dystopia where mankind is threatened with destruction by robots and mutants of its own creation, and humanity's only hope is the idealistic android Casshern. Though the premise is run-of-the-mill sci-fi and the actors often sound absurdly bombastic, the movie is visually breathtaking. Director Kazuaki Kiriya brings to life a sooty, machine-age hell that's all grinding gears, clanking metal and monolithic buildings swathed in Cyrillic characters. The fact that the movie was made for only $6 million is a sign, too, that spectacular special effects are now available even to filmmakers without Hollywood-style budgets.
The early 1970s comic and cartoon that inspired Devilman, a CGI-heavy movie due out in the fall, helped create a template for the fanged and tentacled demons that populate Japanese pop culture today. Devilman is the alter ego of mild-mannered schoolboy Akira Fudo, who becomes possessed by a long-dormant demonic force. The story details his struggle to bring that force under control and use it to fight other, more malevolent, demons. Like Casshern, virtually every frame in Devilman blends live action and computer graphics. Judging by segments that have been completed, Devilman will be a lush, Gothic-flavored visual delight.
Not all the current remakes are dark and violent. Ninja Hattori-kun (Hattori the Ninja)—based on a 1960s comic and 1980s cartoon of the same name—comes out in August and stars Shingo Katori, of the popular boy band SMAP, as an overearnest ninja who moves from a feudal village to modern Tokyo, where he serves a nine-year-old master. Hattori speaks in outdated formalities, struggles to maintain the ninja code of self-concealment in the crowded city, and ends up in all sorts of trouble. The other big-ticket remake now in the works is Tetsujin 28-go (Iron Man 28), based on one of Japan's oldest and best-loved comics, which ran from 1956-66 and was also made into a cartoon. The title character is a remote-controlled robot who looks like the Wizard of Oz's Tin Man on growth hormones. When the remote is in the hands of a schoolboy named Shotaro Kaneda—the story's real hero—the Iron Man is an unstoppable defender of justice, whooshing in ŕ la Mighty Mouse to foil villainous schemes. There's plenty of mayhem but never any real menace, and when the dust settles, the Iron Man has miraculously set things straight without a drop of blood having been spilled.
Exactly why remakes of classic cartoons are booming is open to debate. Some cite nostalgia, others a lack of imagination. "People have special feelings for the older animé. They're simpler and more innocent," says Cutie Honey star Sato, a longtime fan of the heroine she plays. Her director, Anno, takes a crankier view. "Japanese people can't grow up," he says. "When they're not reading comics and watching cartoons, they go to see movies about cartoon characters. It's sad." Whatever the reason, there's no denying the needs of a nation of comic-book nerds—and with a legion of superheroes waiting in the wings, it's a good bet that more of them will be making the leap to real life.
- Ilya Garger | Tokyo
- Move over, Spidey. Japan's superheroes are making the big leap to the silver screen