Visually gorgeous and narratively intertwined, the anime Inuoh is set in 14th-century Japan. At least, the main story does. It tells of his two daring young castaways, a blind musician and a cursed dancer, meeting one dark night. After their usual routine, they begin playing for each other and soon slip into enchanting sync. As it orbits, it circles against the expanse of twinkling stars.
Given that the film straddles past and present, reality and fantasy, it’s fitting that these characters meet on a bridge. It is based on and riffs on the Heike Monogatari, a basic medieval epic about clans engaged in civil war. A font of myriad interpretations, the original story culminates in the Battle of Dannoura, in which the Heike clan is defeated, child emperor Drowned, lost the sacred Imperial sword. That sword pops up regularly in ‘Inuoh’, but try to understand why.
It’s not entirely clear what the sometimes blood-dripping sword has to do with the two swirling strangers. You might have no problem tracking the movie’s maze-like turns, its time shifts, its storytelling omissions, its fantastic flourishes. I forgot a lot of the instructions, so I gave up trying to fit the pieces. Instead, I often fell in love with the spectacular animation, savoring its watery hues, vibrant character designs, and repetitive, evocative embraces of near-abstraction.
Director Masaaki Yuasa (“Ride Your Wave”) opens “Inuoh” with a stunning image that announces his visual ambitions and gives little time to establish his own direction. After a short and vivid passage of time, the story settles down to Tomona (voice: Mirai Moriyama), a boy who lives with her parents in a fishing village. One day, two royal emissaries ask Tomona’s father to go diving in search of a mysterious treasure. His father is killed and Tomona becomes blind. He leaves home, but soon finds his vocation, becoming a biwa player, and eventually meets a stranger on a bridge.
That is Inuoh (rock band Avu-chan) queen bee), and his background adds complexity. A pariah born with severe congenital malformations, his arms are longer than his legs and when he runs, he drags him as dangerously as Isadora Duncan’s scarf. Inuoh hides his face under a gourd mask. He also speaks with an adenoid chirp and scrambles with a frenetic agility that evolves into a kind of superpower after meeting Tomona. Inuoh becomes a performance sensation, while Yuna becomes a proto-rocker, playing the biwa and worshipers.
Given how generously Yuasa pours into these passages, it’s clear he likes the idea of 14th-century performers rocking out like modern-day arena gods. At the very least, these interludes have the clarity and directness of storytelling that’s missing here. (The script is by Akiko Nogi.) Sure, it’s funny to watch Tomonajam: he plays the biwa behind his head like Jimi Hendrix (to be clear, the resemblance is strictly ), flogging around his plush mane and baring his chest. He makes the crowd bubble. But while the performances reveal truths about the players and their lives, they quickly become boring.
Still, sometimes beauty alone is enough (mostly). And “Inuoh” is visually compelling, beginning with an early interlude, often looking like an animated scroll painting through its color, delicate figures, negative space, and lateral movement. This sequence, like the rest of the film, retains a strong imprint of the human hand, demonstrating a deep grasp (and joy) of the plasticity of the medium. Yuasa’s approach varies from section to section, playing with textures, volumes and hues, gently shifting the balance between figurative and abstract, but his extraordinary touch makes every line and eye-popping swirl can be seen in
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It is rated PG-13 for minor hazards and deaths. Japanese, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 38 minutes. at the theater.
