Back to MerelyPlayers's Profile MerelyPlayers's Profile

‘Fuse: Memoirs of the Hunter Girl’ is the fantastical brain-child of Masayuki Miyaji – an assistant director on Spirited Away - yet is also a work inherently dependent on many other historical writers and creators, most notably the author Takizawa Bakin. A recent anime TV series adaptation of his most famous work, the epic Nansō Satomi Hakkenden, was highly derivative of – and, in my opinion, somewhat insulting to – the source material. Fuse, on the other hand, seems very playful, reverent and effective in its adaptation of the same novel’s premise. Not only does the film pay it homage, it also directly references it ... and even features both Takizawa as a minor character and his granddaughter Meido as a member of the supporting cast. Aptly, it is through Meido – an aspiring writer herself - that the metafictional concerns of the film are mostly explored, supporting the notions of “fakes” and “counterfeits” that are central to the characterisation of the Fuse – mythical were-wolf like creatures - and the Shogun, who serves as the narrative’s underlying antagonist. Indeed, it is through Meido’s perspective that the film is given a narrative frame, thus adding to the sense that this story is very much enveloped within the traditions of Japanese story telling itself.
Another key theme touched on throughout is that of prejudice, though the extent to which it is successfully tackled is up for debate – after all, it becomes quickly apparent that humans have a very genuine reason to fear the Fuse, despite however much the latter may try to control their natural instincts. The discrimination and subjugation of women is, on the other hand, depicted in a historically accurate manner for the most part, with a poignant parallel being made between the lives of the Fuse and the ‘pleasure-district’s’ courtesans about half way into the film. The female lead and her samurai brother’s love interest are also used to explore the nature of womanhood and the construction of gender identity throughout, though in between everything else these areas aren’t really given enough time to be dealt with deeply, and the answers offered are again of questionable significance. However, the fact that the film manages to touch upon such things without losing its balance between fun and drama means that their inclusion is in no way detrimental.
One of the film’s most striking factors is its direction, which – once you get into the meat of the plot – may seem somewhat all over the place at points. This, though, is sort of the point: in order to locate the film in a broad historical context of Japanese story telling, a menagerie of varying techniques from a diverse array of traditions is used, from parodies of famous wood-block prints to a depiction of a Kabuki theatre play. Whilst I can’t deny this was an approach somewhat alien to my general cinematic experiences and perceptions, it certainly had the desired effect more often than not.
Despite the interjections of these sometimes visually contrasting modes of story telling, the movie does not eschew aesthetic unity: there is a default art style used throughout the majority of the film that features a Ghibli like approach to scenery coupled with the more distinctive character designs typical of most serialised anime. The animation is also largely of a high standard, aside from a few points near the beginning where it seems to slow down unnaturally for brief instances. What’s more, the various other aesthetics that are superimposed on the more conventional style - such as the woodcut imitations and the use of charcoal lines to depict aerial spinning motions - are used repeatedly, thus creating a continuity that makes them seem less intrusive and obscure when regarding the film as a whole.
Continuous movement between light and serious tones – as befitting traditional Japanese stories - is another effective aspect of the film: for the most part, it doesn’t take itself too seriously, and the humour is very well done. Despite some typical anime fare - brother and sister becoming emotionally hysterical and beginning a sobbing contest upon reuniting, for instance - the various comedic elements, from the woodblock parodies and use of several Ronin film clichés to the more self-referential conceit of the story itself being "counterfeit", are all executed well. However, one couldn't help but laugh at the unintentional ludicrousness of the film's climax. Indeed, the last twenty minutes or so are perhaps the only parts of the film were it strays slightly too far into reliance upon typical anime tropes. It was refreshing, though, to see a somewhat more abrupt and believable romantic confession from the female lead as compared to most anime heroines, even if the peripheral circumstances and the reaction of the male lead were excessively cheesy.
The film’s pacing is also generally quite good, though one sequence of events in the mid part of the movie – involving the introduction of a relatively important character, and several rather sudden revelations and pivotal plot points – comes on slightly too suddenly for my liking. Aside from this, the film breathes when it needs to – for example, in the introductory scenes in which Hamaji the hunter girl pensively stalks a wolf through a forlorn and snow-covered mountainous landscape - and keeps the action from getting too frenetic during the various fight scenes.
The characterisation was something that I was wary of in the opening minutes – given Hamaji’s anachronistic character design and voice - though as the film progressed any fears were for the most part laid to rest. The main cast are quirky, but not to the extremes anime characters are often prone to be, and none of them are particularly one-dimensional. Hamaji, her brother Dousetsu, and Shino – the male lead – all receive good character exploration and development. Indeed, I particularly appreciate how some of Dousetsu’s actions - being perhaps slightly deplorable to a contemporary Western audience - seem in keeping with the historical context he inhabits, and that he remains an endearing character in spite of also being very much a man of his age in some retrospectively negative regards.
One element I feel is too much of a mixed bag is the soundtrack. Whilst the sound design itself is fine, the musical score is somewhat inconsistent: several pieces sound very much derivative of Joe Hishashi’s Ghibli scores, whilst others seem to have come straight out of very average TV productions. In particular, the music underpinning several anticipatory periods building towards visual climaxes are very cliché. There was one montage sequence, however, in which one of the Ghibli-esque pieces was juxtaposed well against the unfolding visuals, providing an emotional commentary that would not have otherwise been apparent.
For many, the main caveat for greater enjoyment of the film would be a broad understanding of historical Japanese culture, including myth, art, theatre and story telling. That being said, the only one of those things that I had a small degree of knowledge in was woodblock printing – along and a vague idea of what the Hakkenden was - and I still found the film very enjoyable and humorous. Indeed, though I came away from Fuse with somewhat antithetical feelings in regards to how well certain aspects really worked, my final impression was an overwhelmingly positive one; for me, it is without doubt one of the best anime films of recent years not to have come from either Ghibli or Mamoru Hosoda.

I saw this film yesterday and, having enjoyed it immensely, was pleased to read that it has won the award for Best Animated Feature Film at the 45th annual Sitges International Fantastic Film Festival (a Spanish film festival). This perhaps comes as little surprise given that it is the work of Mamoru Hosoda, acclaimed director of "The Girl Who Leapt Through Time" and "Summer Wars" (both of which also won the same award at previous Sitges festivals). I dare say that Mamoru has exceeded himself with this film, taking observations and musings from his own life - the film supposedly being based on thoughts he ... had when, at one point in his life, he was 'surrounded by all these women who suddenly became pregnant' - and translating them into a beautiful tale of young parenthood, unusual childhood, and the powerful changes self-discovery incurs on adolescent life.

The story is both simple and elegant, with a well constructed plot that follows the above mentioned periods of a young family in a emotionally dynamic and charming manner, evoking joy and humour in equal measure, and just the right amount of melancholy and distress. This is helped by the endearing, often cute - in a fashion non-stereotypical of modern anime trends, and thus refreshing - and naturalistic characters (again, no ridiculous anime archetypes to be seen here really, and the one 'expy' in the film is a rather respectful and very amusing pastiche of Clint Eastwood). Indeed, despite the fact that the eponymous kids are indeed wolf-children, their stories are those of many a young person - the desires to fit in with society and conversely to take ones own path through life are explored in a counterbalanced fashion between the two siblings, which adds great depth to their intertwining tales. Even if we are too young to have experienced the hardships and joys of parenthood, or fortunate enough not to have experienced the loss of a spouse or parent at a young age, most of us will still likely relate in some way to the young lives of Ame and Yuki.

The elegance of the plot and tone of the story are complemented perfectly by the exquisite animation, which was in fact created in 3D and then augmented with 2D (apparently the opposite of the anime film norm). The effect is that the simple, familiar art style one might associate with a Ghibli production or Mamoru's other works is given that extra bit of depth, that touch more of aesthetic richness, and so when a scene that makes full use of the visuals comes along, one is treated to breath-taking feats of visual artistry, thus augmenting the whole experience as a whole. Underpinning all this is an equally impressive soundtrack, as well as superb sound design - I felt that the subtle crescendo of the rain in the first sequence in which Hana searches for a missing loved one was almost harrowing in its evocation of her growing despair. As a composer myself, I was pleasantly surprised to hear the effective use of interesting metres and rich textures throughout the movie, and thought the music did a great job emphasising and revealing the emotive nature of the film.

I saw the film in Edinburgh as part the Scotland Loves Anime festival, but because it had already aired in London last week, it was ineligible for that particular festival's award. If it had been, there is no doubt in my mind that it would have taken that home as well, for as a film (read: piece of visual art, as opposed to Otaku fan service) it was invariably better than all the others on offer. Indeed, it is without doubt one of the best animated films I have ever seen, on par with if not better than many of Ghibli's best efforts. I thus implore anyone who has read this and not seen it to go watch it at the first available and convenient opportunity. I'd be greatly surprised, and even perhaps worried, if it fails to warm you heart to at least half the degree that it did mine.

Having just returned from the apparent world premier, I can assure you that if you are a fan of anime with compelling stories, well constructed plots, and a suitable amount of intrigue, this film is most definitely not for you.
I'm sure the original story is as nuanced and engrossing as the reputation of its author would suggest. However, what the director of this film has managed to cram into these (approximate) 90 minutes is not so much a tale of psychic rivals and their attempts to impact history as it is a mishmash of awkward, stereotypically 'anime-ish' relationships and overt use of inanely pretty ... scenery and characters. The first 20 minutes of the film are unnecessarily accompanied by the constant falling of cherry blossom, for example.
Indeed, in making use of as much cliché and anime trope as he could muster, the director completely destroyed any semblance of an engaging story line, reducing the plot to a series of awkward encounters, embarrassing emotional confessions (that see the constant and mind numbing use of anime's favourite phrase), failed philosophical musing, and out-of context and particularly unmindful quoting of Shakespeare (which seems to, of late, be quite the fashion in anime).
So, yes, if you enjoy anime simply for awkward teenage crushes and angst, as well as cute characters and pretty images, then you will likely enjoy this. Anyone looking for a tale as touching and well constructed as the likes of "The girl who leapt through time" or "Millennium actress" should look elsewhere.