Whether
it is the far future or the distant past, the environment is a sinister force
not to be trifled with. We’re talking about poisoned atmospheres, radiation,
mutated monsters, and of course birds. The grimmest view of humanity’s possible
fate comes in Toshihisa Yokoshima’s Cocolors (trailer here), the lead
selection of a trio of animated shorts that screen together during the 2017 Fantasia International Film Festival.
We
never see the faces of Aki and Fuyi, but we still feel for them deeply. Like
all the residents of their subterranean shelter, they are never seen without
their dark reflective environmental helmets. Fuyi is acutely sensitive and
sickly by nature. Aki is also rather sensitive, but he is relatively healthy
compared to his peers, so he is selected for the salvage corps. It is their job
to bring back useable resources from the surface to sustain their community.
Aki is not very good at it, but he regularly managed to bring back colored
stones for Fuyi to color in his idealized portrait of what life was like on the
surface. It is a harsh, inhospitable world now, but it turns out it wasn’t
mankind’s fault—at least not entirely.
Despite
the absence of big anime eyes, Cocolors is
absolutely devastating. It relies solely on subtitled vocal performances and
animated body language, but it will emotionally cold-cock you just the same. As
an added bonus, Yokoshima creates a richly detailed world in only forty-five
minutes. Somewhat conspicuously, he leaves plenty of questions unanswered,
especially when he briefly but unambiguously establishes the extraterrestrial
nature of the catastrophe. That leads us to believe he has more planned for
this world, but probably not with Aki and Kai.
As
in Cocolors, the protag of Park
Hye-mi’s Scarecrow Island has had to
grow up fast. After a nuclear disaster, mutated monsters took over the Earth’s
land masses, forcing humanity onto aircraft carrier shelters. Call sign FA35 is
fighter pilot in his early teens at the latest, but he was just promoted to
captain his own squad of “cleaners.” It is their job to clean sectors of monsters.
However, when he is thrown off course, he spies a living, breathy human, who
has decked out its secluded isle with scarecrows. Although they never really communicate,
good will blossoms as FA35 regularly returns for fly-bys and to drop supplies
for more scarecrows. Unfortunately, militarism will interrupt their budding
friendship.
Scarecrow is another
provocative post-apocalyptic tale from the maker of Crimson Whale, but it sort of suffers when compared to Cocolors. Still, Park crafts some
memorable visuals and somehow avoids a feeling a finger-wagging didacticism,
even though the film obviously has a heavy take-away.
On
the surface, Cloud Yang’s Valley of White
Birds is the ringer of the trio, yet it totally fits. A haughty mage has blown
into an abandoned hamlet like Sergio Leone’s High Plains Drifter. It appears to
be inhabited entirely by white birds, who could very well have the jump on him.
Frankly, Valley is more about style
and imagery than narrative, but is it ever gorgeous. In a way, it is like the
most spiritually-imbued wuxia fantasies, rendered with a look that subtly hints
at traditional watercolor. It is a film to sink into and just let whatever
happens happen.
