Award-winning Works

Animation Division

My Neighbors the Yamada
© 1999 Hisaichi Ishii ・ Hatake Jimusyo ・ TGNHB
Excellence Prize

My Neighbors the Yamada

Novie

Artist : Isao TAKAHATA

(Japan)

Profile

Isao Takahata

Isao TAKAHATA

Born in Ise City, Mie Prefecture on October 29th, 1935, the youngest child of seven. Graduated from the Department of French Language and Literature of The University of Tokyo in 1959 and entered Toei Doga(Presently attending Toei Animation). First worked on "Okami Shonen Ken (Wolf Boy Ken)" #14 - The Jungle's Greatest Battle- in 1964. First directed "Taiyo no Oji Holus no Daiboken (Prince of the Sun, Holus' Big Adventure)" in 1968. Directed "Alps no Shoujo Heidi (Heidi, Girl of the Alps)"(1974), "Haha wo Tazunete 3000 ri (3000 Mile Search for Mama)" (1976), "Akage no Ann (Red-Haired Ann)" (1979), "Jyarinko Chie" (1981), "Cello Hiki no Gosch (Gosch and His Cello)" (1982), "Hotaru no Haka (Burning Grave)" (1988), "Omohide Poro Poro" (1991) and "Heisei Tanuki Gassen Pon Poko (Heisei Raccoon Dog Battle Ponpoko)" (1994). Produced "Kaze no Tani no Naushika (Naushika, Valley of the Wind)" (1984) and "Tenku no Shiro Raputa (Sky Castle, Raputa)" (1986). He also wrote the following books (published by Tokuma Shoten Co.,LTD.) "Holus no Eizo Hyogen (Holus' Visual Expression)", "Hanashi no Hanashi (Talking About Talk)", "Ki wo Ueta Otoko wo Yomu (Read the Man Who Planted the Tree)", "Eiga wo Tsukurinagara Kangaeta Koto (What I Thought About When I Was Making Movies)" and "12 Seiki no Animation (12th Century Animation)".

Comment

I got this story from Hisaichi Ishii's original work. I wanted to kind put the brakes on the tide of the times and let everyone relax. Our theme was to keep the visuals flexible while staying true to the original artwork and four-frame manga style. This award is recognition of the great effort that all of the staff put into this new challenge. We are very happy.

Reason for Award

The daily failures and slapstick nonsense of the Yamada family, three generations of Yamada's living under one roof. Sometimes you howl with laughter, sometimes you feel a wry smile on your face. Sometimes you are moved out of sympathy for the characters. A blueprint of the Japanese family, a portrait of the families we have all lost, told in a series of ten collections of short episodes. The poison pen of cartoonist Hisaichi Ishii has been transformed here into almost Haiku-like watercolors, soft and gentle. It's the world of film great Yasujiro Ozu,transmuted into animation. In both technique and production, this work writes anew pagein the history of Japanese animation.

Winner's Interview

──Functioning as a judge at the ACA Media Arts Festival yourself, what do you think about the status quo of animation in Japan?

In most animated films made in Japan, children are the main characters. They're stronger and smarter than adults, knock down the bad guys, and are even playing certain roles in society. Japanese animation has created something enormously pleasant for kids to look at, and I think that's an important factor. Kids nowadays aren't really capable of social behaviour, are they? But in the comics they go out and perplex the grown-ups. Even after getting older, those who have been watching such films for a while are still watching them now that they're grown men aged 30 or 40. People are using animations as canvases to project their feelings onto, and so they're able to assimilate to children much younger than they are.

──Is the fact that the father transforms into Gekko Kamen in "Tonari no Yamada-kun" an expression of the 'child's mind' in adults?

No, that's a bit different because Gekko Kamen is an old-fashioned adult hero. But I admit that the father in "Yamada-kun" is quite similar to young people nowadays who have been admiring kid heroes when they were children, but have difficulties once they've grown up and are thrown into the maze of real life. Many of them can't cope with society and fall into depressions.

──A yell toward that generation?

Not really. Rather, I think there's no need to worry about such things. I'm disgusted with the fact that there are so many fellows who sometimes even end up with mental diseases over the struggle with the gap between their illusions and reality.

──You once said it was difficult to make an animation out of certain material when there's no inevitability. What do you mean by that "inevitability"?

In the case of "Omoideporoporo," for example, it's not that the question why to make an animation although we could have photographed the material didn't exist. I can't really explain why, but I chose animation because in my opinion it was the only choice. Nobody would probably accept such a script for a photographed movie anyway. Similar things people say also about "Hotaru no Haka." Here it was certainly not the case that we made an animation because there are no kids around who could play such roles.

──Do you consider animation the better tool to express reality?

See, you'd never take something that was written with a pen for real, right? That means that lines drawn on paper are only 'means.' Therefore I think that animation is an immensely valuable genre because it makes people use their imagination. Animation has developed to a point where 3-D computer graphics are employed. Some folks call that "evolution," but they're totally wrong because we're in a different genre here. To make things look three-dimensional means to eliminate outlines, right? In that moment the creations seemingly begin to claim, "look, I'm real!" But shouldn't drawings be objects that proclaim, "I'm not real"? This makes the viewer generously responsive to what's behind them.

──A bit like haiku, isn't it?

Right, and because we have such traditions in Japan, I'd like people to appreciate them. With the advance of 3-D computer graphics it's becoming more and more difficult to tell what's animated and what's photographed, but these are two totally different things.

──Nevertheless, isn't the trend in animation going toward computer graphics that make animated films look more and more real?

Yes, and why does animation that sells have to be like that? And why the real sceneries? I mentioned before animations with main characters being children which viewers project their feelings onto. But it's certainly not that they really watch the films' heroes properly. That's because they become parts of the characters themselves. This can be like in a manga, more symbolic, or any other way. The scenery, though, is the outside world the protagonist sees. So, in order to make it possible for viewers to fully devote themselves and become one with the hero or heroine, the scenery is kept virtually real-looking. I'm calling that the "Disneyland method." You get totally absorbed in the story, and "Spirited Away (Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi)" is the perfect example for this.

──You mean, viewers identify themselves with Chihiro?

Well, identify or whatever. Those, however, who fail to do so, are the suckers. They just don't get it. All they can do is maybe enjoy the incredible amount of details the movie offers. But most of those who saw "Spirited Away" did in fact identify themselves with Chihiro. It might sound as if I was criticizing this, but I'm in fact saying that it's a terrific movie in that it manages to completely enslave the viewer. What I'm just asking people to do is to bear this in mind when watching it. Where does the film's magic come from ? that's the question here.

──You think that, even though people praise the film for spellbinding them, this effect alone doesn't make it a good one?

In cases where animations have such immense intriguing powers, it's natural that people completely loose themselves, but in my opinion it's already this expectation from a film that's not exactly clever. I wonder what's the difference then between the desire to be pulled into a story and the appetite for alcohol or other things that make one feel good? Many people actually watch movies only with this attitude, and it really gives me the creeps when I imagine that their number is still increasing.

──It's surely not the way people used to watch movies in the past.

Well, that's certainly because film hadn't evolved much. The idling evolution also caused people to use their imaginations and actively grasp aspects of empathy. Let me change genres for an example: in Shakespeares's plays you never find any empathizing character. Regardless of this, it's quite possible though that people in the audience become active and do that. In other words, they become members of the illusionary society on stage quite voluntarily. Animations nowadays, though, drag viewers in.

──Do you think you'll ever feel like doing a nother TV series?

There is something to TV series that isn't possible in any other form but TV series, and that aspect is what I was heading for in the one I made. Considering both my physical and mental energies I assume that'll be difficult to achieve in case I do another TV series in the future.

──If you see girls of a certain age all devour "Akage no Anne," for example, do you think that's also the result of some kind of history of ideas that has been cultivated?

Girls usually don't give much about how Marira feels when they read "Akage no Anne" during their adolescence. They all see it from Anne's emotional viewpoint. Later, when they have kids themselves, they begin to understand Anne's feelings from the standpoint of a mother. The original story was written with such a humorous intention in mind, somewhat objectively. I took great care of this aspect when I animated the material.

──So, it's not one of the kind that was made to take viewers in?

Right, and I'm especially happy that so many people seem to like it in spite of my different approach. Although there was no intention to pull people, they enter Anne's world voluntarily.

──I think it's a work with a smartly created cycle. Looking at it this way, isn't "Yamada-kun," too, an example that can be interpreted in the same direction?

Perfectly right. Cartoons of four frames have a point, and then they're suddenly over, but in real life it's different, isn't it? Life goes on. That's what I wanted to show in "Yamada-kun."

──As a closing question, I'd like to ask you about your future plans.

I'm in the middle of preparing a whole set of ideas, and while doing so three of those plans already went up in smoke. Now I think I'm lucky if I can put just one of them into action. Maybe I'm a little picky, but even when I've come up with an expressive theme and am ready to go for it, it all remains fruitless if I don't meet the right, technically skilled person, and manage to win his or her sympathy for the project. So, for the time being I keep preparing and being on standby while writing this and that. However, I hope to finish one work by the end of the year.