NYICFF ’15: Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet

He was born into a Maronite Catholic family and wrote his best known work in English, but Kahlil Gibran was subsequently embraced as a symbol of Arab culture. Without question, his best known work is The Prophet, arguably the original break-out New Age bestseller, whose celebrity admirers include Elvis Presley, John Lennon, and Salma Hayek. Her regard for the instantly recognizable Knopf title was such that she produced a big screen animated adaptation of the book few would have thought adaptable. The ambition and animation are definitely impressive, but the source material remains unwieldy in Roger Allers’ Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet (trailer here), which screens during this year’s New York International Children’s Film Festival.

In order to give the film a central storyline, Allers took some liberties with the framing device. The exiled prophet Mustafa (here more of a hipster painter and poet) is indeed bidding a fond farewell to the citizens of Orphalese, but he will not simply hop on the tall ship and sail off into the sunset. The oppressive Pasha and his thuggish police sergeant are planning permanent measures to halt his progressive influence before they let him go anywhere. The resulting narrative is like a weird passion play, with the assorted peasants in the countryside and merchants in town celebrating his presumed release with much feasting and drinking. At each stop along the way, Mustafa gives the crowd a pithy bit of prose poetry wisdom that are impressionistically rendered by a diverse roster of animators.

No longer is Almitra a seer. She is now the rebellious mute daughter of Kamila, the widowed housekeeper hired to tidy up the prophet’s exile cottage. Sharing a connection with the island’s seagulls, she is the first to suspect the fate awaiting Mustafa. Presumably, these liberties taken with the text pass muster with the Gibran establishment, given their active role in the production.

Regardless, the film as a whole is necessarily uneven, since Allers and Hayek-Pinault (as she is billed here) deliberately embrace its episodic structure. Not surprisingly, the best sequences are “On Love” animated by Tomm Moore (Song of the Sea) and “On Marriage” crafted by Joann Sfar (The Rabbi’s Cat). The abstract nature of the texts are also particularly well suited to the styles of Nina Paley (Sita Sings the Blues) and Bill Plympton (Cheatin’). However, the other four parables largely blend together.

Following in the footsteps of Richard Harris’s Arif Mardin-produced musical interpretation of The Prophet, Liam Neeson continues the Irish Gibran tradition as the voice of Mustafa. To be fair, his husky, reassuring tones are rather well suited to the film. Hayek-Pinault is perfectly serviceable as Kamila. (Since she is once again playing a mother facing difficult circumstances, Prophet should really be considered a companion film to Everly and the two should be screened together whenever possible). Quvenzhané Wallis gets precious little actual dialogue as Almitra (but perhaps that is just as well), while Alfred Molina does his best to keep up with the slapstick humor directed at his pompous Sergeant.

Whatever you do, always observe the authorial possessive in the title, like “Bram Stoker’s Dracula.” Although the film’s cultish impetus is a little creepy, it is intriguing to see such a high profile attempt at impressionistic, non-narrative animated filmmaking. Unfortunately, some of the contributing filmmakers are better suited to the task than others. A strange hybrid, Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet is recommended for animation enthusiasts who want to see something a little outside the norm (whereas younger viewers will probably find it indulgently lecture-y) when it screens again today (3/22) at the DGA Theatre, as the closing film of the 2015 NYICFF.

NYICFF ’15: Moomins on the Riviera

With grace and naiveté, the oblivious Moomins face the perils of pirates and French snobbery. Naturally, the pirates are much more pleasant to deal with. Nevertheless, some of the Moomins will rather enjoy living the high life in the south of France, at least until the bills come due in Xavier Picard’s Moomins on the Riviera (trailer here), which screens during the 2015 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

In the film, Moominpappa says it straight out—they are not hippopotamuses. It is not clear just what they are, but they are clearly some sort of anthropomorphic animal. Already well known from Tove Jansson’s children’s book series, the Moomins made the transition to the funny pages, but they were abruptly canceled by a leftwing Finnish paper that found them too bourgeoisie. Subsequently, the comic strip was revived by a British syndicate. Eventually, the Moomins were adapted as a Japanese anime series, so they are quite well-established internationally, even though they never cracked the U.S. market. Still, there is no reason American kid will not appreciate a family of talking animals, ambiguous though their species might be.

All is pretty okay in the vaguely Northern European Moominvalley as the film opens. Young Moomin shyly pursues his flirty neighbor Snorkmaiden, when not out fishing with his friend Snufkin. When a pirate ship founders on the rocky shoals, the Moomins mobilize to salvage what they can. Of course, they gather up all the books and tropical seeds, neglecting the pirates’ treasure. Largely on impulse, the Moomins and Snorkmaiden soon set off on a nautical expedition of their own, rather irresponsibly sailing into a white squall. After a brief detour, the Moomins land on the Riviera, which the star-struck Snorkmaiden has always dreamed of visiting. She and Moominpappa soon fall in with the moneyed smart set, but Moomin and Moominmamma are uncomfortable with the shallow, indulgent lifestyle.

The animation of Picard’s Moomins is nowhere near as lush as a Studio Ghibli release or the work of GKIDS associated filmmakers like Tomm Moore or Michel Ocelot, but that is somewhat by design. The new Moomins feature deliberately evokes the feel of the vintage comic strip. In fact, that clean look is appealingly classy and well-suited to the Riviera backdrop.

Although Picard and a battery of four co-screenwriters faithfully adapted a story arc from the original newspaper strips, the film’s narrative is not exactly earth-shaking stuff. However, there are a lot of clever bits of business thrown in for seasoning. Moomin is also a decent sort of chap and the be-true-to-yourself-and-beware-of-phonies message should appeal to parents.

Despite skewing towards younger audiences, Riviera has a sophisticated vibe older viewers will appreciate. Considering it recently set the Finland record for two-week box office gross, it is probably safe to assume there will be more Moomins to come. Pleasantly upbeat and life affirming, Moomins on the Riviera is recommended for kids 5-10 (as per the festival’s guidelines) and animation fans who will enjoy its gentle quirks. It screens again this Sunday (3/22) at the IFC Center, as part of this year’s NYICFF.

NYICFF ’15: Jellyfish Eyes

Considering Japanese pop artist and commercial phenom Takashi Murakami frequently features his manga alter-ego, Mr. DOB in his work, it is not surprising his debut feature film is heavy on the creatures. Eventually, a kaiju attacks, but that also makes sense, given Ultraman’s formative influence on his artistic development. It is all kid friendly, but in a slightly trippy sort of way, like Sid & Marty Krofft rebooted for Japan. As a result, one sensitive young lad is in for the weirdest coming-of-age story in Murakami’s Jellyfish Eyes (trailer here), which screens during the 2015 New York International Children's Film Festival.

Tsunami survivor Masashi Kusakabe is relieved to be moving out of the shelter, even though he and his mother are still deeply grieving his father. However, he quickly suspects there is some sort of strange presence in their new exurban apartment. That would be the critter he eventually names Kurage-bo or Jellyfish Boy. It turns out all the kids at his new school have what they call F.R.I.E.N.D.S., except they can control theirs with special handheld devices given to them by the local lab, from where Kurage-bo escaped.

Kusakabe quickly bonds with Kurage-bo, whose resourcefulness stymies the attempted bullying of the bad boy clique and their creepy F.R.I.E.N.D.S. It seems there is a sort of underground F.R.I.E.N.D. fighting circuit operating afterschool. Fortunately, Luxor, the biggest, hairiest F.R.I.E.N.D. was entrusted to Saki Amamiya, who vehemently dislikes all forms of fighting. She is not too fond of her mother’s doomsday cult either, but she might be okay with Kusakabe. Unfortunately, the aspiring bullies will escalate their aggressive behavior, with the secret encouragement of a shadowy cabal operating in the research institute. Somehow the negative energy generated by the children and their F.R.I.E.N.D.S. perfectly suits the needs of the so-called “Black-Cloaked Four.”

Based on post-screening reactions, it is safe to say Luxor is a smash hit with kids. You have to admit, he is pretty cool and pairing him up Himeka Asami’s Amamiya just cranks up the cuteness to Spinal Tap levels. In contrast, Kurage-bo is sort of weird looking, but he grows on you. However, the earnestness of young Takuto Sueoka and Asami, really sell the madness, while directly expressing extraordinary angst no kid should have to deal with. Likewise, Mayu Tsuruta is quite touching as Kusakabe’s bereaved but steadfast mother Yasuko.

The shadow of the 2011 disaster is constantly present in Jellyfish Eyes, but Murakami largely keeps it in background, rather than belaboring the point. He clearly has a nice touch with kids, but there is a lot of manipulation and thematic recycling going on his the boy-and-his- F.R.I.E.N.D. narrative. Nevertheless, the bizarre details (how many kids’ films have both an apocalyptic cult and an apocalyptic secret society?) as well as the sincerity of the primary cast really distinguishes the film from the field. Imagine if he got together with Takashi Miike? The mind reels. Warmly recommended for older elementary school kids who have discovered anime or kaiju movies (and big kids who enjoy either), Jellyfish Eyes screens again at the SVA Theatre this coming Sunday (3/15), as part of this year’s NYICFF.

NYICFF ’15: Satellite Girl and Milk Cow

KITSAT-1 is sort of like Skylab, but when she fell to Earth, she turned into a girl. Kyung-chun used to be a boy, which would have made them a good match, but he turned into a cow, because that sort of thing regularly happens to the broken hearted in this world. So maybe she is a bit stiff and he is a bit bovine—love can still find a way in Jang Hyung-yun’s Satellite Girl and Milk Cow (trailer here), which screens during the 2015 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

KITSAT-1 was Korea’s first satellite, but hardly anyone notices when she goes on the fritz. After decades of observing Koreans from all walks of life, she wants to join in. She will have the opportunity thanks to Merlin, who has assumed the form of a roll of toilet paper, because he could. Suddenly Kyung-chun is sharing his apartment with Il-ho, as KITSAT-1 now calls herself, and the wizard himself. At least thanks to Merlin’s help, Kyung-chun is able to temporarily return to his prior human appearance in a magical suit that is logically made out of enchanted toilet paper.

It turns out Kyung-chun could actually use the help going incognito. Lately, he has been stalked by a shadowy poacher, whose employer covets the reputed power that comes from ingesting the organs of broken-hearted changelings like Kyung-chun. Fortunately, Il-ho is there to protect him with her Inspector Gadget-like projectile limbs, in between their bickering.

SG&MC sounds completely bonkers and it probably is, but it feels relatively normal in the moment. Things just work differently in its world—roll with it. In fact, the vibe is more closely akin to a Korean rom-com. It’s your basic satellite meets moo cow story. However, nobody dies from cancer at the end, so it stays safely in rom-com territory rather than taking on the tone of a tragically romantic blockbuster.

Throughout the film, Jang maintains an appealing mix of sweetness and goofiness. After all, it is easy to identify with Kyung-chun because everyone has had their hearts ripped out, stomped to pieces, and then kicked into their faces at some point in time. He gets a key assist from Hong Sang-soo regular Jung Yu-mi (Oki’s Movie, In Another Country), who charming voiceover performance brings the awkward but earnest Il-ho fully to life.

This is a gentle film that should be perfectly appropriate for kids of eight years and older (as per the festival’s guidelines), but it will be the parents and big kids who fully appreciate its wackiness and empathy for the lovelorn. Jang’s animation is not exactly Studio Ghibli quality (to which it has been compared), but it has a lot of character and a healthy energy level. Highly recommended for those who can get behind some idiosyncratically romantic animation, Satellite Girl and Milk Cow screens again this coming Saturday (3/14) at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYICFF.

NYICFF ’15: Secrets of War

You’re supposed to make mistakes when you’re a kid. That’s all part of the growing up process. Unfortunately, there is a much smaller margin for error when an oppressive foreign power occupies your country during a time of war. That is the environment two Dutch twelve year-olds face in Dennis Bots’ Secrets of War (trailer here), which screens during the 2015 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

Initially, Tuur Ramakers and Lambert Nijskens are inseparable friends, but their families have already aligned on different sides of the war. Lambert’s politically ambitious father has become the town’s leading National Socialist collaborator. As a result, Tuur’s parents have largely cut their social ties with the Nijskenses. They might also be taking an even a more active role in the resistance, but they have shielded Tuur from any compromising knowledge. Naturally, he picks up on this and resents it. Nevertheless, young Ramakers and Nijskens largely carry on as they always did, thanks in part to the latter’s reluctance to join the Hitler Youth. However, everything changes when Maartje Holtermans arrives at school.

Supposedly, Holtermans is visiting her aunt and uncle from the north, as kids would do during the war. They live in a rather provincial town after all, but they are far from immune from air raids. Nevertheless, there is obviously more to Holtermans’ story than she lets on (but the audience should tweak to it right away). Of course, Ramakers and Nijskens are slower on the up-take, because they are kids. Regrettably, this will have dire consequences when three becomes a crowd. As feelings develop between the more sophisticated Holtermans and the bad boy Ramakers, the resentful Nijskens will do something impulsively rash.

Sure, most festival goers will have seen a fair number of thematically similar films—Martin Koolhaven’s occupation-set coming-of-age story Winter in Wartime being a particularly relevant comparative. However, Secrets is surprisingly smart and subtle showing how typically overheated adolescent drama could take on wider tragic implications. Things get dark and desperate, but in grimly logical rather than contrived ways.

The trio of young primaries are also quite polished and work remarkably well in-tandem. Maas Bronkhuyzen oozes mischievous charisma as Ramakers and Pippa Allen’s Holtermans could pass for a pre-teen Natalie Portman. Poor Joes Brauers is stuck with most of the film’s ignoble work, but he still manages to convey all of Nijskens’ humanizing insecurities and jealousies. Although far from a driving element, the white-haired local vicar is also refreshingly portrayed as a (much harassed) man of principle.

Karin van Holst Pellekaan’s adaptation of Jacques Vriens’ YA novel forthrightly addresses the realities of the Holocaust, but it stops short of showing viewers the actual horrors. Arguably, it could serve as an effective introduction to the National Socialist genocide without overwhelming young viewers. It definitely reflects a twelve year-old’s perspective, but that makes it quite touching for adult viewers. Recommended with a good deal of enthusiasm, Secrets of War screens tomorrow (3/7) at the IFC Center and Sunday (3/15) at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYICFF.

NYICFF ’15: When Marnie Was There

For young Anna Sasaki, coming of age is a particularly dramatic process, in a dark psychological kind of way. She is like a character out of Daphne du Maurier or Mary Roberts Rinehart novels, who has been sent to spend the summer in a bucolic marshland that could have been painted by the Impressionists. Nobody would be better suited to realize her new environment than the Studio Ghibli team, but alas, this will be their final release for the foreseeable future. While it lacks the tragic sweep of its immediate predecessors (Princess Kaguya and The Wind Rises), Hiromasa Yonebayashi’s When Marnie Was There (trailer here) is an appropriately intimate goodbye that packed the house for the opening night of the 2015 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

Sasaki is far too sensitive to make friends easily with her classmates. Her stress-aggravated asthma does not help either. After a particularly severe attack, Sasaki’s mother Yoriko sends her to stay with her extended relatives, kindly old Kiyomasa and Setsu Oiwa. However, as a foster child, Sasaki has difficulty accepting any of them as family, including Yoriko, despite their genuine concern.

To humor Setsu, she makes a few half-hearted to befriend with some of the village girls her age, but Sasaki prefers to make sketches on her own. One of her favorite subjects, is Marsh House, an abandoned mansion, only intermittently accessible during low tides. Strangely though, a young girl named Marnie seems to live there with her ominously gothic servants. Sasaki and Marnie are drawn to each other like lonely kindred spirits. At last, each feels they have finally found a true friend. Yet, Marnie’s penchant for vanishing without a trace confuses and sometimes hurts Sasaki.

It does not take much deduction or intuition to figure WMWT is some sort of supernatural story, but it still holds some profoundly resonant secrets. It certainly looks like a Studio Ghibli film, which means it is lushly gorgeous. As with The Secret World of Arrietty, his previous film as a director (also based on a British YA novel), Yonebayashi fully captures the beauty and malevolent power of the natural world. Frankly, it is rather impressive how quickly and yet how smoothly he can change the vibe from sunny pastoral to psychological suspense. There is even a scene in a supposedly haunted grain silo that evokes the mission tower staircase in Vertigo, fittingly enough in a film featuring a titular character named Marnie.

WMWT is a deeply humanist film, brimming with forgiveness and empathy. Through her POV, we will acutely understand how coming to terms with the past will allow Sasaki to carry on and embrace life. As a potential sign-off from Studio Ghibli, that’s not bad. Amongst their storied output, it probably ranks somewhere in the middle, but had it come from just about any other animation house, it would represent their crowning achievement. Granted, the opening act is a little slow getting it in gear, but overall, it is remarkably astute emotionally and refreshingly life-affirming. Highly recommended, When Marnie Was There screens again next Saturday (3/7) at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYICFF.