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              Despite calling myself an anime fan, I have only watched one Ghibli movie, so I am happy to have experienced another one. It’s easy to see how influential this movie, and Ghibli in general, have been to both Eastern and Western media. Like Godzilla, much of the film is already familiar. Seeing the soot sprites instantly made me understand that the dust sprites from Stardew Valley were directly inspired by this movie. It explains why the dust sprites drop coal as well. Characters like No Face and the Moomin looking mouse I have seen countless times. Several shots like when Chihiro and Haku run through the garden of flowers, Chihiro by the bridge, and No Face washed by the waves are all iconic. I’m pretty sure there was a Twitter trend for drawing Yababa’s room as well. It would be difficult for such a movie to reach my high expectations, but I’m honestly not disappointed.

              I love animation as a media. It is my favorite as it allows much more creativity and flexibility than in live action. I think Spirited Away does an amazing job in utilizing its medium. The setting is so vivid and would be difficult to express another way. Animation and art style are pleasing too and aren’t as exaggerated as in other animated movies, which helps it stay grounded. It also allows the horror aspects to hit harder. Seeing Chihiro’s parents turn into pigs scared me more than anything Ringu or Pulse did and triggered unpleasant memories of Animal Farm. Greed seems to be a running theme in this film. Chihiro’s parents suffer their fate due to eating the spirit’s food. No Face greedily eats anything and everything offered to him, and the workers at the bathhouse scramble for the gold that leaks from No Face. This is even more obvious when contrasted with Chihiro, who steadfastly refuses the gold offered to her. She even states that she doesn’t need the gold, which makes me wonder why the other employees were so desperate. I wonder if it’s a subtle way to criticize capitalism. People act irrationally when faced with large amounts of money. It’s part of the reason why the environment is so damaged, which is reflected through the two river dragons.

              A film inspired by the spaghetti Western genre, which in turn was influenced by Akira Kurosawa’s jidaigeki films. It has come a full circle.

This film is clearly not meant to be taken seriously. The scenery at the start looks like it was ripped straight from a high school production. Various sound effects resemble cartoon sounds. One of the characters even says that he is an anime otaku at heart. This movie feels like it is parodying various aspects of Western films, but at the same time there are moments where it also felt like it wanted to be taken seriously, especially at the end when the gunman leaves. I wish it leaned into either being humorous or serious more. I find it hard to laugh at the silly moments when there is so much violence going on, but I also can’t take it seriously with the over-the-top sound effects.

I do like how the film mixes cultures though. The leader of the Genji uses a samurai sword and tells someone to feel the blade, rather than see it. A torii gate occupies the entrance of the town named Yuta, Nevata, clearly meant to imitate Yukon, Nevada. The characters have Japanese names, but the film is almost entirely in English. This film is a product of globalization, a mixing of cultures that is still new to the world, and I appreciate that a lot. The blend doesn’t mean that each culture is lost though, which I think it indicated by the red-white hybrid rose. Each color is distinct and do not completely blend to make a pink rose.

A lot of the characters were cliché too. The silent, cool gunman that is a stranger to the main conflict but gets involved anyways. The woman with a troubled past, vying for revenge and waiting for the right time to strike. Though not exactly, she has the same energy as a femme fatale character. I feel like I have seen the main characters before, which impeded on my ability to feel for the characters. The constant fighting and death made me want to connect with the characters less, because inevitably they would die. Maybe that is why I found this movie to be kind of boring. Of course, the spectacle is flashy, and the costumes and settings are cool, but I don’t feel like I have a reason to care.

However, my favorite part was the ending. The gunman leaves with a fist of gold, likely a reference to A Fistful of Dollars, and Heihachi finally opens his eyes and utters his first words. The child finally finds the courage to face reality, though this development feels unearned. He the text says he eventually travels to Italy and takes the name Django, which is again a rather obvious reference.

              One of the articles we read for Pulse argued that there were two main phases of Japanese cinema; the first emphasized the natural beauty of Japan, and the next portrays Japan as manufactured and desolate. Sweet Bean feels like a return to the previous phase while also incorporating some human made aspects of the setting. The camera takes the time to admire trees and flowers but gives the same look of adoration for the temples and buildings that exist in harmony with its environment.

              Sweet Bean was also a slow burn. It takes place over the time of a year, which is shown by the changing leaves. This allows the film to create a homely atmosphere, especially with the low angle, intimate scenes of when the characters are making the dorayaki. The camera is almost like a child, standing on its tippy toes to peek at what the characters are cooking up. Time is taken on each shot, which allows the movie to show, rather than tell the audience what the characters are feeling. Dialogue is scarce, comparatively. When there is a dip in customers for the dorayaki shop, the camera doesn’t bother to look out the window, focusing on Tokue and Sentaro. This feels wrong, but neither character really addresses it vocally, sharing glances instead. There is also a scene where Wakana visits the dorayaki shop and finds Sentaro with a bottle of wine. He quickly hides it, but both Wakana and the audience knows he’s been drinking. The same bottle of wine appears again, subtly telling the audience about Sentaro’s emotional state while maintaining Sentaro’s stoic appearance. The only break in his expression is at the end, which is the emotional climax of the film. Another example of subtle characterization was with Wakana’s family. Her mother uses her room to smoke, telling her boyfriend that she will make something for him next time, while Wakana is in the kitchen. The mother carelessly spills beer on her daughter’s possession as well. She seems to realize she did something wrong but worsens the mood by telling Wakana that she has to get rid of the canary.

              I used to be so scared of horror movies, but I wonder if I have grown too jaded. Coraline and Ib were both pieces of media that kept me up for an entire week. In my opinion, the atmosphere of these stories was the scariest component, but neither this movie nor Ringu have really affected me. The struggles of growing old is real.

One of the prevailing themes in Pulse is loneliness, and how humans have such a hard time connecting with others. Even when they do, they tend to hurt each other, signified by the simulation programmed by a random graduate student. Additionally, Kurosawa tends to place the camera a bit further from the characters. This helps emphasize how small and insignificant each person is, especially when set in an empty background. Furthermore, characters speaking to each other are often placed screens of spaces away from each other, so the camera has to swing back and forth between people when they speak, which kind of reminds me of Swallowtail Butterfly. Again, this style leaves the actors as the only person in a particular frame, emphasizing how alone everyone is. Only in some moments of vulnerability do the characters appear near each other, like with Harue and Kawashima on the train. I also loved the use of light in this film. Since the objects of fear are shadows and dark figures, every lingering shot made me search the screen for a potential ghost. Every shady shape was suspicious. Since compositions often left a lot of negative space, there was also plenty of room for ghosts. The shadows are not always immediately obvious either, so shots from behind characters work especially well. We as the audience search the space for something wrong just as are the in-story characters.

Ringu chooses to also forego jumpscares in favor of building a creepy atmosphere and suspense, but the camera is generally closer and facing the character, letting the audience more clearly see the reactions of fear. This allowed the final scene when Sadako’s current form was finally revealed to have more of an impact.

The shadows left from those who passed away reminded me vividly of the shadows left by those who were killed in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It makes me wonder if part of the reason technology is regarded so negatively is due to its ability to inflict violence and destruction. The film even shows a huge explosion when the airplane crashes, as ashes from the smears themselves swirl in the skies, which particularly stuck out due to its scale compared to everything else.

              I was so excited to see this movie. I have only heard about Sadako through other pieces of media that reference her, but I have never seen the original film. I didn’t find the film to be frightening though, which came to a surprise to me. I often find stories and ghosts and such to be sad, rather than scary. For me, it read as a heart-breaking tale under all the flashy editing.

              I was disappointed that Sada got treated so poorly by the people around her and the movie. I didn’t seem like Sada was cruel or anything when she was alive. She killed the reporter that tried to slander her mother, but we don’t even know if that was on purpose. I interpreted it as Sada feeling anger towards the reporter, which caused her to accidentally kill the man. I also think its sad that Sada was murdered by her own father. Ryuji mentions that Dr. Heihachiro was not Sada’s father, but rather something out of this world. This line seemed super strange to me. In fact, Ryuji mentions a couple of times how those with psychic abilities are “not of this world.” He seems to, to some degree, be able to read people’s memories, which is similar to Shizuko’s power. Is Ryuji implying that he is also an alien force? He seems to consider himself to be a normal person—he is a professor and interacts normally with his student—so why apply this logic to people with similar powers? Ryuji implying that Yoichi should maybe just die was a line that took me by surprise too. There are a few parallels between Yoichi and Sada, both having a parent with psychological powers and both being creepy children. Ryuji’s line might have been a way to show the audience that he hates his own power. It seems that it played a role in his divorce, and he actively avoids using his power. His lashing out might be just misdirected aggression (like with cats).

              Though the sound effects and editing are dramatic, the camera work felt much more muted, which adds to the suspenseful nature of the film. I noticed that there were several shots that had the characters moving towards the camera. In this way, whatever the characters are aiming for is obstructed from the audience’s view. This was especially noticeable in the scene where Shizuko’s brother appears, and the rest of the characters snap their gaze to the camera which is in the point of view of the brother approaching the rest of the crowd. The sound that plays when the dates are displayed sound incredibly familiar though, and it has been bothering me for days. Perhaps the screeching noises are just that iconic. I also really liked the freeze frame of the victims’ last face. Their expressions are twisted in horror, and the editing makes it seem like an old-timey picture. It is almost like the victims are creating their own version of Sada’s video.

              I wish the film dug into more about how the nature of the curse. Apparently, the condition to break free of the curse is to show the video to another person. So why bother finding Sada’s body in the first place? Of course, the characters in the story do not have that knowledge, but it’s a strange narrative decision, in my opinion. We do get to find out more about the lore, but it ultimately doesn’t lead into anything.

              Like the last film we watched, Swallowtail Butterfly explores how those who are different are treated poorly in Japanese society. The people of Yentown are not given the same rights as a Japanese citizen; when Feihong and Glico buy the Yentown Club, it is signed under someone else’s name. The people are also under constant police scrutiny and experience violence when under arrest. The Caucasian band members who were born in Japan, therefore Japanese citizens, also complain about their treatment.

              Though poor, the ragtag team of friends seem to have a good time. They are close-knit and seem to have fun doing whatever to earn money. However once enough money has been accrued, it drives the people apart. Glico, for such a central character, seems to go missing for a large chunk of the film once she becomes a pop star, which emphasizes how far removed she is from Ageha and Feihong now.

              The movie also seems to be shot mostly using handheld, which reminds me a lot of watching a music video or a recording of a live performance. Various colored lights are used to set the mood as well, the most apparent to me is how spotty light can be, like when a scene is shot under a swinging light or near a fan. It’s an interesting way to make the scene more cluttered to stress the messiness of the setting, like in Rashomon with its concept of justice.

              Since there are so many different cultures in Yentown, it makes sense that the characters speak multiple languages. I really like that the film does this, because I feel like it adds another layer to analyze. For example, at the end Ageha speaks Chinese to Ran and also tells him that she runs a shop with Glico. I interpreted this as a sign that Ageha has continued to practice Chinese, probably as a way to connect with Glico and honor Feihong, who initially teaches her the language. I also think that her speaking Chinese in combination with mentioning Glico is a way to hint that Ageha knows of Ran’s relation with Glico but chooses not to reunite them, maybe as a way to protect her since Feihong was killed after getting caught with the fake bill, which was a strategy invented by Ran. Switching between languages midsentence was a nice touch as well, however I wish the subtitles somehow indicated this. Watching this movie with the subtitles felt like I was watching a dubbed anime on Netflix with the subtitles; what the characters say do not always match the subtitles word for word but still meant about the same thing. It was also a little tiring to hear Chinese but read English. Sometimes the subs cut out completely too. While Mao Fu charged to attack right before his whole crew gets wiped out, he lets out a war cry of sorts. He is telling his opponent to basically “come at me bro,” but there were no subtitles in this short segment.

Hana-bi feels like a modern film shot several decades ago.

The film starts with some obvious foreshadowing, with “drop dead” on a wall, which fades to the car the detectives are in taking the same place. The lines of both shot correspond with each other. The transitions in general are really smooth. My favorite was when Nishi shoots a yakuza member, the film cuts to Horibe dumping red paint on his painting. Another example was when Horibe was shopping for flowers, the flowers he sees makes him flashback to the paintings he has done for the flowers.

Speaking of Horibe’s paintings, I did some brief research for this movie since I liked it so much, and it’s got some interesting facts. Some of the paintings shown were done by the director himself, Takeshi Kitano. These paintings were made when Kitano was recovering from his motorcycle accident that left part of his face paralyzed. This is also why we see Nishi’s face twitch since Nishi was played by the director as well. This makes me think that that is also why a number of his paintings has the subject’s face covered with a flower, as a way to cover for his disfigured face with something pretty. Therefore, it feels to me that this film was made as a way for Kitano to work through his own trauma. I also learned that before directing this movie, Kitano was a comedian, so this film, which won a Golden Lion, helped transition his reputation from a comedian to a real film director. Additionally, the girl trying to fly the kite at the end is also Kitano’s daughter. Her presence is another reason why I think this film was very personal to Kitano. As Nishi and his wife’s daughter passed away at such a young age, it is sort of poetic. From a far, that shot could almost pass as a family spending time on the beach, with the parents adoringly watching their daughter do her best to get the kite afloat. This makes the subsequent scene of Nishi and Miyuki committing suicide in front of her sort of humorous, but in a really dark way.

Whether Nishi shot himself and his wife or the two cops at the end is sort of open-ended, there is really no doubt in my mind that it was suicide, rather than homicide. The cut to Horibe’s painting, adorned with the word suicide gave it away the most to me, but I think it also makes sense in relation to the character’s personality. Nishi is violent, but still cares deeply. With the money he stole, he bought Horibe art supplies and a beret, things Horibe only mentioned once. Nishi also gives a package to Tanaka’s wife, which makes me think he feels responsible for Tanaka’s passing. It wouldn’t make sense for Nishi to shoot two former colleagues of his.

Nishi and Miyuki’s relationship was also really heartwarming. In the beginning, it seems like they were sort of cold towards each other, but as the movie progressed, we see them enjoying each other’s company. It feels like not many words were shared in between them, but the way they giggle at each other like schoolchildren was very cute. Nishi clearly doesn’t care too much about etiquette, we can infer that since he rings the bell on his own right after another tourist tells his kid that they can’t do that and messes up the zen garden. Miyuki laughs at Nishi’s antics. I wonder if Nishi does these things because he feels like it, or if he does it to entertain his wife.

I can’t believe we finally made it to the 21st century. I finally understand at least some of the pop culture references.

Anyways, the rebellious youth theme instantly made me think of Cruel Story of Youth, especially after Sugihara says, “I thought hard about my futureless existence.” Sugihara’s youth was filled with violence, with many classmates challenging him to fight. I’m glad that Sugihara manages to find a goal, going to university, but I am sad that it was at the cost of Jong-Il’s death. Sugihara also refuses Tawake’s call for revenge, stating that it would not be something Jong-Il would want. I also wondered a lot if any of the violence portrayed was punished by the police. I wonder if Jong-Il’s killer was arrested, or if Mr. Kim faced any consequences for beating up a student. We only see the police arrest Sugihara and Tawake, which makes me think the director is pointing out how the Korean-Japanese were treated by the police differently compared to the Japanese.

The stuttering shots also reminded me of something, but I can’t quite remember what. I want to say Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. But a cooler scene was the spinning shot while Tawake and Sugihara kick a deflated soccer ball around, then transitions to Jong-Il and Sugihara talking. It conveyed time passing, like with Ugetsu and its shot where the wife appears one last time.

Additionally, Go starts with a Shakespeare quote, which I think outlines the main theme of the movie well. The quote basically says that the name of something does not really change what that something is, like how Sugihara and Sakurai not sharing their first-names does not change who they are as humans. The quote also shows that the labels given to the various characters do not define them. Sugihara may be Korean-Japanese but sharing this information with Sakurai does not change him as a person.

A smaller thing I noticed was that the film shows that every time the mom left, the dad punches a hole in the wall. The film focuses a little on the first two holes as they happen, but by the end there were like five holes. We see that after the dad was informed of his loss in business and loss of a brother, so I wonder if the holes indicated how upset the dad was over these losses or if the mom left another three times. I saw that Sakurai when she was introduced wore a lot of bright pinks, which foreshadowed her first name. This also made her stand out next to Sugihara, who wore dark blues. Furthermore, after Jong-Il’s funeral, Sugihara wore black while Sakurai wore a white dress. Obviously the dark clothing indicates grief, but I think Sakurai wore white to represent how Sugihara hopes that Sakurai can be a pillar of support after losing a good friend. That illusion is shattered though once the clothing came off. Finally, at the end Sakurai wore blue clothing, which I believe indicates how she understands Sugihara a little better and was willing to change the beliefs she was taught.