As much as I tend to lean on the sides of directors when it comes to film making, they are supposed to be the ones calling the shots after all, occasionally I will give credit where credit is due to the studios and production companies through which these films are built, financed and eventually sent off into the world. Would the genre of horror be quite the same without the influence of Hammer Films? Would James Gunn be heading Guardians of the Galaxy or Matt Stone and Trey Parker be pushing two decades worth of South Park if Troma hadn’t lent a helping hand? Introducing money into the equation is the leading cause of fucked up movies, and studio execs love that money, but money is also the only way you make movies at all, so it’s a complicated relationship. When that money is given with an open mind and willingness to explore, that’s when the magic happens.
When it comes to animation however, a style of film making that is even more collaborative than the standard, it is the studios and production companies where the true power lies. Pixar, Studio Ghibli, Nelvana (responsible for former Marathoner Rock & Rule) Tokyo Movie Shinsa (Castle of Cagliostro and Akira) and now Laika, based out of Oregon. A relative newcomer to the film stage, they’re only about 12 years old, Laika has been slowly building up an impressive body of work since then. Kicking things off with Coraline in 2009, which was likely their biggest hit, Laika defined themselves by their incredibly detailed, masterfully shot, downright beautiful claymation work, crafting films that were fun for the whole family, but didn’t shy away from the darker subjects. In 2012 they came out with ParaNorman (another great one), and two years later The Boxtrolls, the lowest rated and yet ironically the second highest-grossing of their filmography. That may have been for the best, because it was that increased revenue that helped to give us Kubo and the Two Strings.
In a village by the sea in what is most likely Japan, a one-eyed boy named Kubo lives in a cave overlooking those vast waters. Every morning when he wakes he takes of his mother, who is trapped in a catatonic state, and then travels down to the village in order to make money. Kubo is a master at the art of origami you see, as well as a musician, and when he plays the shamisen these creatures of folded paper literally come to life and move about. He uses these skills to tell stories, tales of the heroic samurai Hanzo and his quest for the Golden Armor, and his war against the evil Moon King. Every time he comes close to finishing this story however, the town bell rings for sundown, and Kubo runs home. Kubo can never be outside once night falls, you see, no matter what.
What the folks in the village don’t know is that all of Kubo’s stories were true, Hanzo, the Moon King, etc., because Hanzo is Kubo’s father, and his mother one of the daughters of the Moon King. A long time ago Kubo and his mother had washed up on the village, sacrificing Hanzo’s life and one of Kubo’s eyes in order to escape the wrath of the Moon King. That escape was only temporary though, and when those divine forces finally catch up to the broken family, Kubo must go on a journey to recover the Golden Armor in order to vanquish the Moon King once and for all. Kubo, along with a talking monkey and a stag beetle samurai, isn’t just telling stories anymore: He’s living one.
To say that this film beautiful veers on redundant, because this is a Laika movie and Laika movies always look great. Kubo is a classic Hero’s Quest type story, and the set pieces are suitably epic for the occasion. Windswept tundras, endless lakes, sweeping vistas of mountains and valleys, Kubo’s world is lush and vibrant in a way that very few animated films are able to match. The characters are animated so finely that they seem to breath and move, and it is astounding to consider just how much work Travis Knight and his team had to put in to make it look this good. Even I have to admit that one my favorite films of my childhood, the Nightmare Before Christmas, looks a bit slow in comparison. Of course claymation is like the prog rock of animation; A treat to experience but a chore to record, and the progression of technology smooths that process. ‘Smooths’ being the operative word, it’s a still a lot of work.
I think what I like most about about Kubo though is that it’s a movie that tells a story about the importance of stories (I believe that would be considered a meta-narrative, but then I’m dumb). Kubo’s mother tells him stories which he tells the villagers, Kubo’s adventure is a story, and our memories of our loved ones who have left us are a story as well. As someone with relatives who suffer from dementia, who have lost a lot of what made them them, I guess it all hit a bit close to home for me.
It’s a damn shame that Kubo and the Two Strings seemed to slip under the radar like it did, but you’d be doing yourself a disservice if you didn’t check it out. Whether you’re an animation fan, a parent looking for a film for their kid, or you just like shit that doesn’t seem like all the other shit you’ve seen, Kubo is the movie for you. When you’re not busy making your own stories this Halloween, give this one a try. You just might find something you really like.
No comments:
Post a Comment