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jemerylThis review is about the anti-war message of the short animated film, Chirin no Suzu, and the impressions I have of it as a trauma survivor. It contains spoilers.
First some context about the writer, Takashi Yanase, because while I was watching this movie, I kept thinking, "Whoever wrote this has PTSD and was probably a WWII veteran."
This isn't a particularly insightful read on my part, more that the film's presentation is effective, and it's a Japanese film made in the 70s. Not too hard to infer. (And, although I have thankfully not been in war, I also have PTSD and I assume that helped me recognize it).
Sure enough, the writer, Takashi Yanase, served in the notoriously horrific Second Sino-Japanese War, which included such atrocities as the Nanjing Massacre. During the war, Yanase faced starvation so many times he had recurring dreams of eating Anpan. His most famous work is Anpanman (a franchise which remains one of Japan's most popular media franchises).
Anpanman is a superhero with an Anpan. When he comes across a starving person, they can eat a part of his head to survive, although later he'll need to get a new head. He also has super hearing which means he can hear and respond to anyone who calls out his name in distress, anywhere in the world. Everything is exactly as you'd expect, given the context, and this film is no different.
Back to Chirin no Suzu.
The idyllic, whimsically animated world of the lamb Chirin, living with his mother and the other sheep in their pasture, takes a dark turn when his mother is killed protecting Chirin from the Wolf King (named Woe in the Japanese version). What I didn't expect is for Chirin to leave the pasture and demand the wolf take him on as an apprentice, so he could become a wolf, too. Woe, of course, refuses.
It's not some act of violence that finally convinces Woe to take Chirin on as his apprentice. Up until this moment he hasn't properly grieved - he's been in denial and anger, making demands to the wolf and trying to prove himself by attacking other animals. One day, Chirin sees a snake kill a bird in her nest, and drives off the snake in an attempt to save the unborn eggs. In doing so, however, he makes the nest fall and all the eggs break. In his sorrow, he cries, asking why the weak and powerless are the ones who always have to suffer. It's a moment where he isn't just grieving the death of the bird and her unborn young, but also the loss of his mother, who died defending him - and the loss of his own childhood.
It's at this moment that Woe takes him on and teaches him to be a wolf.
The first points that really hit me in this film were Chirin mourning the death of the bird and the eggs, and the moment when Chirin realizes the sheep no longer accept him for who he is - even though he ultimately defeated Woe, he's become too different, too frightening, because of his transformation.
I think anyone, regardless of whether they've suffered trauma - if they have a shred of empathy, that is - can relate to the childlike cry of "why did this happen? The violence is so senseless." Is it really just a part of nature, as the wolf says, when the characters are so effectively humanized? We're not just asking, why did this happen to them? We're asking, why did this happen to me? For what purpose - and how am I supposed to go on?
The second was when Chirin realized he would no longer be accepted by the flock. Chirin may not have been driven to seek out the wolf if the other sheep hadn't turned away from him. He may not have felt forced into exile if the sheep had recognized him as one of their when he returned, instead of shunning him. I think anyone who has been irrevocably changed by trauma can relate to the feeling that you are just too damaged, too ugly to go back because of what you had to do to survive. And, if we are unlucky, we are the ones turned away from when we need connections, more now than ever, to heal from what we've suffered.
It's an all too familiar story to anyone who's suffered through trauma - whether you're a war veteran, a sexual assault survivor or grew up in an abusive home. Many people don't want to see, or are not equipped to deal with the ugliness of what you've been through and they will turn away.
Leading to loneliness and exile. Chirin no Suzu isn't resolved in a satisfying way, and it would've felt hollow if it had. It doesn't have to end that way for us, if we can make the connections necessary for us to survive and heal. Either way, what we experienced may have changed us forever.
It's a movie that's definitely worth a watch if this is your jam. The most dated parts are the musical interludes, which now come off as a bit cheesy. The animation has aged well, and the whimsical style and transformation of Chirin, along with the themes of loss, revenge and war, hold up perfectly.
First some context about the writer, Takashi Yanase, because while I was watching this movie, I kept thinking, "Whoever wrote this has PTSD and was probably a WWII veteran."
This isn't a particularly insightful read on my part, more that the film's presentation is effective, and it's a Japanese film made in the 70s. Not too hard to infer. (And, although I have thankfully not been in war, I also have PTSD and I assume that helped me recognize it).
Sure enough, the writer, Takashi Yanase, served in the notoriously horrific Second Sino-Japanese War, which included such atrocities as the Nanjing Massacre. During the war, Yanase faced starvation so many times he had recurring dreams of eating Anpan. His most famous work is Anpanman (a franchise which remains one of Japan's most popular media franchises).
Anpanman is a superhero with an Anpan. When he comes across a starving person, they can eat a part of his head to survive, although later he'll need to get a new head. He also has super hearing which means he can hear and respond to anyone who calls out his name in distress, anywhere in the world. Everything is exactly as you'd expect, given the context, and this film is no different.
Back to Chirin no Suzu.
The idyllic, whimsically animated world of the lamb Chirin, living with his mother and the other sheep in their pasture, takes a dark turn when his mother is killed protecting Chirin from the Wolf King (named Woe in the Japanese version). What I didn't expect is for Chirin to leave the pasture and demand the wolf take him on as an apprentice, so he could become a wolf, too. Woe, of course, refuses.
It's not some act of violence that finally convinces Woe to take Chirin on as his apprentice. Up until this moment he hasn't properly grieved - he's been in denial and anger, making demands to the wolf and trying to prove himself by attacking other animals. One day, Chirin sees a snake kill a bird in her nest, and drives off the snake in an attempt to save the unborn eggs. In doing so, however, he makes the nest fall and all the eggs break. In his sorrow, he cries, asking why the weak and powerless are the ones who always have to suffer. It's a moment where he isn't just grieving the death of the bird and her unborn young, but also the loss of his mother, who died defending him - and the loss of his own childhood.
It's at this moment that Woe takes him on and teaches him to be a wolf.
It would've been easy for the film to veer into nationalist propaganda at this point, and, at the end of Chirin's transformation from a lamb to a mighty and fearsome ram, the film takes on a decidedly nationalist tone in terms of the music, vocals and animation. Chirin and the wolf even become a team - he sees Woe as his father, despite the fact that he kills his mother.
When they attack the pasture in which he grew up, however, Chirin turns on Woe to protect the other sheep. In the pouring rain, Chirin impales Woe upon his horns. And Woe says that he knew he always die by the hand (hoof?) of his own son. The despair of this moment, as Chirin realizes everything he's done and the fact that not only can he go back, but he killed his adoptive father himself. He's all alone. This completely undercuts the potentially nationalistic tone of his ram transformation montage.
Chirin isn't accepted back by the sheep, who are too frightened of his fearsome appearance. He disappears - the film ends by cutting from the pasture to the mountains, with narration that the ringing of Chirin's bell can sometimes be heard on the wind.
The first points that really hit me in this film were Chirin mourning the death of the bird and the eggs, and the moment when Chirin realizes the sheep no longer accept him for who he is - even though he ultimately defeated Woe, he's become too different, too frightening, because of his transformation.
I think anyone, regardless of whether they've suffered trauma - if they have a shred of empathy, that is - can relate to the childlike cry of "why did this happen? The violence is so senseless." Is it really just a part of nature, as the wolf says, when the characters are so effectively humanized? We're not just asking, why did this happen to them? We're asking, why did this happen to me? For what purpose - and how am I supposed to go on?
The second was when Chirin realized he would no longer be accepted by the flock. Chirin may not have been driven to seek out the wolf if the other sheep hadn't turned away from him. He may not have felt forced into exile if the sheep had recognized him as one of their when he returned, instead of shunning him. I think anyone who has been irrevocably changed by trauma can relate to the feeling that you are just too damaged, too ugly to go back because of what you had to do to survive. And, if we are unlucky, we are the ones turned away from when we need connections, more now than ever, to heal from what we've suffered.
It's an all too familiar story to anyone who's suffered through trauma - whether you're a war veteran, a sexual assault survivor or grew up in an abusive home. Many people don't want to see, or are not equipped to deal with the ugliness of what you've been through and they will turn away.
Leading to loneliness and exile. Chirin no Suzu isn't resolved in a satisfying way, and it would've felt hollow if it had. It doesn't have to end that way for us, if we can make the connections necessary for us to survive and heal. Either way, what we experienced may have changed us forever.
It's a movie that's definitely worth a watch if this is your jam. The most dated parts are the musical interludes, which now come off as a bit cheesy. The animation has aged well, and the whimsical style and transformation of Chirin, along with the themes of loss, revenge and war, hold up perfectly.