Screen Play and the atomic bomb
Changing styles in Japanese culture: Gregory P Fournier
Screen Play is a great achievement in puppet animation. With a complex narrative, heavily structured on a Japanese Kabuki theatrical style, the film creates a double layer of belief suspension for the audience to enter. First and foremost, the film is a stopmotion work of art, with puppets and scenery moving magically by themselves. However, on top of this structure we have the theatrical aspect superimposed; Purves' world follows the rules of Kabuki, in a careful array of both logical and magical transformations. For example, in Screen Play, ocean waves are represented in a theatrical way, by strips of waving blue silk; yet scenes change and characters morph in such a way that would be impossible to reproduce in the real world.
It is just this two tiered structure that allows Screen Play to be self referential in a very interesting way. Towards the end of the film, as the traditional story ends 'happily ever after', a samurai, the very same slighted in the play itself, bursts through the set, and goes on a killing rampage which ends with the deaths of the narrator and both lovers. The changeover of narrative style from a formal, heavily constructed theatrical tradition to a naturalistic 'live-action' finale turns on one of the most significant points in the film. Essentially, the arrival of the samurai divides the film into two distinct parts. This particular aspect of the film seems to be allegorical to a similar story in Japan cultural history - that is, the historical shift from a traditional to a modern social identity, as reflected in changing motifs of popular culture. A simple comparison of contemporary Japanese 'anime' to more traditional styles, such as Kabuki, makes this change quickly apparent. Furthermore, the nature of the agent of the stylistic change in the film - the Samurai - suggest a violent, inhuman catalyst, responsible for a broad cultural change. A suitable candidate for this catalyst, represented in screen Play by the Samurai, is the atomic bomb.
Stylistically, the first part of Screen Play is best characterised as subtle. Time proceeds in lapses, with much action taking place between scenes, characters actions are formal, with gentle, framed movements. While time lapses are dominant, it should be understood that the camera never actually cuts during the entire first part of the film - it is all one take, quite the technical achievement of the animator. Rotation of the centre stage, and intervening wood panels carried by stagehands dressed in black serve as the means of changing the scene. In one scene where Takako is accosted by soldiers, we see a brief meeting between him and his love, followed by the appearance of her old cruel father. The scene then jumps to his exile, bypassing the fight of his capture, which had the potential to be very compelling. Another example of this sort of cutting is the lovemaking scene, where the a shot of the couple disrobing each other cuts straight to their post-coital discovery. These time lapses serve to rapidly advance a long, epic story, whilst at the same time keeping the emphasis on the story itself, and not individually vivid scenes, especially scenes of sex and violence. These lapses are often visually confusing, especially when accompanied by the complex movements of the set. The narrator is relied on to effectively bridge these segments.
Characters' expressions and actions are also highly stylised in the first part of the film. The waving, chastising hand of the father, the leering posture of the spy, and expressive laments of the daughter are all exaggerated, formalised movements. This once again refers back to the double-tiered structure of the film; the puppets are 'acting' as people would on a stage, especially in a theatre such as Kabuki, which relies so heavily on stock costume and characters. Masks and expressive gestures enable the audience to better follow the story, especially since the characters do not speak themselves. This theatrical convention is especially evident if we take into account the narrator, who, existing outside the framework of the 'play' structure, moves in a naturalistic way.
The final 'live-action' sequence of the film differs dramatically in style from the first storytelling scene. Perhaps the greatest difference between the first and second parts of the film is the abrupt change in the progression of time. In the final action sequence, time is displayed linearly, and the film describes a short continuous period of a few final bloody moments. This is much different than the epic narrative of the first 'theatrical' segment, where the story is told by scattered events through a long period of time, with abrupt changes between them. There is also no narration (the narrator is dead after all).
After the changeover, marked by the samurai emerging from the set of the play and killing the narrator, the film cuts to its next targets, the blissful lovers living happily ever after. Immediately Takako is slain with arrows, the Samurai then proceeds to chase his lover outside, where she kills him in desperate self-defence with a swordpoint to the throat. These scenes are filmed in a modern live-action style, with rapid cutting and change of camera angles. The sequence is meant to be as lifelike and realistic as possible. The camera zooms in; figures fill the entire screen, and the camera follows their movements. We see a quick shot of the armoured legs of the Samurai striding towards his next victim, followed by a shot of her, on the ground futilely trying to drag herself away. Stylistically, the animator is now free to construct scenes like this one, using editing as a tool to produce feelings of fear and suspense in the audience. We feel a more immediate connection with the events onscreen, rather than the distant, omnipotent feeling of watching the first part of the film, with its events clearly staged on a fixed stage, outside of our world.
The second part of the film also differs in the content it portrays. Violence is dominant in more vivid, overt form. There is no discreet stage rotation and scene 'cutting' to imply its presence. Rather it is the other way round; scenes are cut and constructed so as to draw attention to the violent content. The camera zooms right in on the narrator's severed head, as it falls to the ground in a spurt of blood. We see Takako fall through a screen, bloody and pierced with arrows, while the camera lingers. These sensationalised moments go beyond realism in their abruptness, and the disturbingly large volume of blood released on the set. This violent aspect is particularly disturbing, as it calls for an even greater suspension of belief on the part of the audience. To imagine puppets moving is not very challenging; that is the purpose of the puppet. Even in a stop-motion style, where the means of their control is not evident, it does not contradict what we expect puppets to do. However to see a puppet actually bleed (which no live action puppet can do) demands much more of the audience, resulting in a strong discomfort.
Finally, whilst the first 'theatrical' sequence ends happily ever after with the couple escaping to an island, the second sequence undoes this ending, and writes its own. As in many Hollywood action movies, a final confrontation scene is inserted, just when we think the story is over. However, unlike most action movies, the second part of Screen Play does not merely produce a final obstacle to a happy resolution; rather it completely destroys the final ending, retroactively rewriting the entire tale into a tragedy.
It is reasonable to believe that the two dramatically different styles present in Screen Play reflect the cultural changes that Japan has undergone as a modern, technological society. The traditional roles and values seen in the first sequence of the film, along with the institutions represented by the style itself, are supplanted in the second sequence by 'westernised' perceptions of entertainment, albeit with themes still culturally relevant to certain aspects of Japanese society. While the first sequence is built on a Kabuki theatrical structure, the second sequence has much in common with modern Japanese anime especially that produced by the Manga studio. Abrupt violence, suspenseful and dramatic camerawork, and the excessive amounts of blood are all characteristic of this style, as well as the tragic endings with little resolution. Also, the Samurai himself is a version of a typical 'anime' villain, an armoured, faceless 'mechanical warrior. The machinelike qualities of the Samurai are also relevant for other reasons to be later discussed.
If these two contrasting styles represent changing cultural attitudes, what is the catalyst for the changeover? Two separate events occur during the changeover in the film, each with apparent historical relevance. First of all, the narrator removes his mask and costume, thereby releasing the audience from the illusion of the play as a secondary level of belief suspension. Is the narrator's entry of the 'real world' symbolic of Japan's turning its face outward to the Western world, and thereby the loss of many of its traditional institutions? While this is an interesting question, it does not seem to be supported within the framework of the film itself, and is an ad hoc hypothesis at best. Rather it seems the arrival of the samurai is the catalyst for change. The samurai can easily be directly interpreted as a representation of war. - cultural pessimism created by the atomic bomb attack forever removed the prospect of a happy ending for the greater society. Truly the world was no longer a safe place, where it is possible to hide, and live your life to the exclusion of outside concerns. Destruction would now always be looming somewhere on the horizon, and its threat shadow any happy ending that could ever be.
It could be argues that modern advances in technology, and therefore technological warfare, were the driving force behind a Japan cultural revolution. Having itself borne the brunt of the horrific capacity of technological warfare, Japan's popular culture reflects how Japanese society has absorbed these ideas and images into its paradigm. Certainly, this is evident in much of Japanese animation, which focuses strongly on science fiction; cold technological futures often depicted, and the fate of a violent, often self destructive humanity is always held in question. Weapons of mass destruction are also common themes (nuclear or otherwise). The film Akira gives an excellent account of the cultural issues present in the genre.
Also typical of the modern 'anime' styles is an ultraviolent, and often sexually charged atmosphere. The second part of Screen Play definitely incorporates aspects of the violent tradition. It is not so much the presence of graphic violence that gives the film an association with 'anime' styles. Rather it is the artistic values in the way the violence is depicted. Fast editing, rapid, suddenly violent scenes and slow build up of suspense are all present in both 'anime' and the second part of Screen Play. Also 'anime' styles incorporate a naturalistic fluidness, in direct opposition to the rigid stylised motions of the earlier, more traditional Japan theatre. Once again the dichotomy between new and old styles can be seen in comparison of the first 'traditional' part of the film, and the latter 'modern' part.
It is easy to see how Screen Play can be viewed as a representation of the change in popular culture, as precipitated by the nuclear attacks. Such a physically and psychologically devastating event marked the consciousness of the entire country; the process of coping with the bombings is evident in many modern styles of Japanese entertainment, especially the 'anime' styles of animation. The abrupt change between the first and second parts of the film clearly serve as an allegory to this cultural change - the loss of a safe, traditional way of life, and the pessimistic anticipation of a new, violent future.