"Metropolis"
(no, not that one, the anime version loosely based on that one)
This 2001 state-of-the-art turgid hunk of Japanese animation is very loosely based on the 1928 (or thereabouts) Fritz Lang silent masterpiece of the same name about a technological society subsidized by proletariat oppression that is overthrown by a robot (that doesn't know she is a robot) disguised as an innocent gamin (at least I think that's what it's about). First of all, this rather long movie suffers the same annoying trait as other non-dubbed anime; that is, while the animation draws you in by virtue of the lush artwork, having to concentrate on the subtitles (made even worse in this case by being in a white typeface) creates a feeling of mental conflict that lessens the entire experience. This film uses a fairly seamless combination of cell animation and CGI (funny, the japanese apparently don't have a word for CGI, because in the credits there would be a string of japanese ideograms with "CG" stuck in the middle, then more ideograms), with the net effect similar to watching a really really elaborate and detailed episode of "Futurama." Which brings me to the other quality of this and many other otherwise beautiful anime films that bugs me: Having fully realistic, properly proportioned backgrounds populated by cartoonish characters (or worse, having some characters be realistic, while others are cartoonish). It's as if the artists feel like they have to pay some kind of homage to Uncle Walt. On the other hand, I like the anime habit of indiscriminately mixing asian-type characters with western-type characters; it gives the feeling of living in a world with no geographic barriers. Or San Francisco. At any rate, this show had cutesy people with big goofy noses and tiny pinpoint eyes interacting with gritty, realistic, physiognomically accurate revolutionaries. However, it was the backgrounds that stole the show in this movie: they were indescribably fantastic. The robots were really well done, too; they were lumbering, slow-moving things you could believe were machines, and yet even the non-verbal ones conveyed some kind of personality (one in particular that the hero befriends, a garbage-collecting unit he names "fifi", is especially touching). The directors of this movie also tried to imbue the futuristic world of "Metropolis" with a retro, jazz-age style, producing somewhat disconcerting results. The soundtrack is all be-bop, jazz, and Carl Starling-esque big band flights of fancy-- an attempt, I guess, at recapturing the "art deco futuristic" sensibility of the original Metropolis. The makers of this epic also have some kind of Babylon fixation going on, in an attempt to draw a parallel with the story of the Tower of Babel: the colossal center of power and wealth in Metropolis is called "the Ziggarut," and the strong-arm ruling political party is referred to as "the Marduks." I won't attempt to describe the plot; the plot is pretty much immaterial to enjoying this movie. In short: lotta people get shot; robots get blown up. Good anime is hyper-violent anyway (why is that?). The most bizarre sequence in the film consists of a lovingly detailed destruction of Metropolis to the tune of this old Ray Charles romantic standard whose name it's killing me not to be able to remember, while the hero is desperately trying to save the girl-robot that is the direct cause of all this destruction, while her human skin burns off and she slowly transforms into a writhing mass of electronic fury (all the while buildings are collapsing around him and he's being tossed about feather-in-the-wind style). In the end, the city is destroyed but robots and men bravely face the future together as brothers, hallelulia, amen. Metropolis is a mess, but oh what a beautiful mess.
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