When watching a movie from another country it’s always important to take into account cultural distinctions. Often times the content of a foreign film will include idiosyncrasies and notions that are unusual to us in one part of the world, but are completely normal or commonplace there. That being said, Penguin Highway was an awkward film to sit through, and I don’t think it’s entirely attributable to different cultural sensitivities.
Anime fans are well-aware that while it’s a form that can be unbelievably creative, overwhelming, and captivating, it can also be incredibly bizarre; that there are tropes, signatures, and whole genres of Japanese animation that are bewildering to put it mildly, completely alienating and discomforting to put bluntly. Penguin Highway is undoubtedly a strange film in that weird as hell but endearing way of movies like Ponyo and Pom Poko, but it has some problematic themes, characters, and storytelling in its way.
Based on the novel by Tomihiko Morimi, the film is about a ten year old science enthusiast Aoyama who is curious about the sudden appearance of a number of penguins in his humble suburb, which he soon starts investigating with the help of an unnamed friendly dentist he has a crush on. He soon comes to realize she is connected to the penguins; and as she challenges him to solve her mystery and as he becomes sidetracked by other priorities, his small community becomes threatened by the encroaching anomalies.
The visuals of this movie are eminently pleasant, its’ animation exquisite, and the energy and creativity of a lot of the story is rather nicely realized. Additionally, the concepts are, if not entirely fresh, delightful in their absurdity; and I have to commend the film for its appraisal of science, bringing back that sense of wonder and pervading curiosity that’s been lost on many of us in maturity. At times you do feel the resonance of the mystery too, compelled to connect the dots as Aoyama does –when it’s focussed, it can be quite nicely plotted. The last act, and the climax in particular are wonderful, bristling with so much visual splendour and genuinely engaging developments and stakes that it all but cancels out the subsequent dragged-out ending. Indeed there’s quite a bit to this movie that’s not only lively and enjoyable, but artistically charismatic. As a work of contemporary magical realism goes, it nails the magic, but the realism is where the films’ quality falters.
There’s really no way to get around the unintentional creepiness of Aoyama’s infatuation with an adult woman he barely knows, or more troubling, her seeming reciprocal affection for him. She spends a lot of time with this pre-teen boy and in situations I have to imagine are universally inappropriate. If it were a passing thing it wouldn’t matter, plenty of boys crush on older women after all, but this relationship is the cornerstone of the movie; and even though an equivalent love interest his own age, a classmate called Hamamoto, becomes a major character, the film still indicates this relationship is the closer, truer bond. Obviously, this makes a lot of their interactions incredibly uncomfortable. And the fact Aoyama sees her mostly as a sexual object doesn’t help –I could do without the constant breast fixation throughout the movie (to the point you expect him to flat-out grope her before the end); and she’s frequently framed in suggestive ways that emphasize her curves and cleavage. With these two leads presented as intellectual equals and their dialogue written the same as any romantic comedy, the film too often reads as an ill-conceived wish fulfilment fantasy for juvenile boys.
And in keeping with that type of story, Aoyama is an utter blank slate of a character. He’s pretty vacant throughout, the movie seeming to rely on his being a genius as an excuse. Barely mustering a reaction to being beat up by bullies or figuring out a secret about his lady friend that even she doesn’t know, he’s quite a dull kid to follow for a long two hours. She, on the other hand, behaves slightly more like a human being, and even though she has no agency outside of him, has more of a personality. Divorced from that tether to Aoyama she would be very compelling. The supporting cast consists of one-dimensional characters: a nerdy and cowardly best friend, an obnoxious bully who only acts tough (also, can we please get rid of the stereotype of bullies picking on girls because they like them?!). Hamamoto is probably the only character who I really liked, exuding a relatable sense of enthusiasm and a childlike temperament.
Her storyline kind of comes out of nowhere though, as Aoyama temporarily abandons the penguin case to help her with a different scientific endeavour, and it’s indicative of the films’ fragmented pacing. Despite its title, the penguins disappear for a substantial portion of the movie as distinct elements are being introduced to tie into the story’s conclusion. It’s an almost episodic nature that doesn’t quite work given the previously outlined issues.
It sounds like I’m being unduly harsh on this movie that to my understanding has been well received in other circles. But I should emphasize that the areas of Penguin Highway that do work, by and large work remarkably –which is why the unsavory elements are that much more disappointing. And stacked up against other recent anime movies that have gotten North American distribution like In This Corner of the World, Mirai and Modest Heroes as well as the ongoing Ghibli Fest, it just doesn’t compare.
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