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One of the few manga on my bookshelf is Seiichi Hayashi's Elegy in Red from 1970. I pick it up and leaf through it occasionally. I haven't re-read it in a long time, but the drawings are inspirational and never grow old. Seiichi Hayashi actually created a short animated version of the film in Toei's Ganime series two years ago, and I just had the chance to watch it tonight.
In short, it was magnificent. It was tremendously moving to be able to see this classic story brought alive in moving images in a way that did full justice to the original's style and tone - not just because the story itself is great and moving, but because it's one of my own favorites, one of the few manga I can still relate to after all this time, and I'm glad to see it come alive in my favorite medium.
The original was already quite unique in its time for its strangely disjointed, poetic, loose approach to the drawings and narrative, but this film succeeds because it was actually done by Seiichi Hayashi himself, so the drawings and tone of the the piece are very true to the original. What makes the film work is not just that the drawings are his; it's that the film is more than just an adaptation. It's a sort of re-visiting of an old story by the same artist at a much later time in his life, a re-inventing in a different medium. He himself appears in the film in his present guise, with his trademark wiry mustache, recalling the events of the manga as if reminiscing about his own faded days of glory, giving the film an intriguing double layer of meaning.
There are very few manga artists whose drawings I like, but I adore Seiichi Hayashi's drawings. His drawings are always spare, drawn with just a few lines, impeccably classy and elegant. Although his trademark style featuring slim, haughty beauties who look as if they've stepped out of a Taisho-era glossy magazine isn't on display in Elegy in Red, most of his subsequent work is done in this style. He was apparently considerably inspired by the work of the Taisho-era artist Takehisa Yumeji. You can see a good dose of Seiichi Hayashi's drawings on his web site, and thankfully an English translation of Elegy in Red was just released last year (titled Red-Colored Elegy).
Miraculously, the delicate sensibility of Hayashi's drawings comes through well in this film, which is impressive, as the drawings of his manga have a finely balanced madness that wouldn't come through in another's hand. They're not exactly the same. The film version doesn't have the youthful imperfection of the manga. It's obviously of the hand of an older Seiichi Hayashi. But the drawings are still just right. And it's not just drawings set to music, thankfully. Despite the nomer ('ganime' stands for "drawing" + "anime"), the film does thankfully benefit from spare touches of animation in most shots, along with great camerawork that never makes a wrong step.
Seiichi Hayashi in fact began his career as an animator, so the sureness of the directing, and the skill with which the movement is sparely applied, make sense. Not only are his drawings spare and perfect, but each little movement is spare and perfect, bringing the drawings I knew so well from the manga alive in a way perfectly suited to the style of the story. It would actually have been too much to bring this story alive in full animation. The few drawings added here and there work perfectly to bring the story alive while staying true to the feeling of the original manga. This is a superb example of how this sort of minimalistic animated filmmaking should be done.
The music is directed by Morio Agata, a famous folk-rocker from the 1970s who debuted the year after the publication of the manga with a song entitled Elegy in Red inspired by Seiichi Hayashi's manga, which acts as the main motif in the film. So it's a match made in heaven. The music is a perfect match for the images, bringing alive the sound of the era. The two - music and manga - were in fact one of the defining cultural artifacts of 1970s Japan, deemed to have captured the mood of the era's youth. So this film is more than just a good love story told in an interesting style. It comes across as a glimpse into the feelings and sensibility of the generation that grew up in the 60s, an elegy to a generation long gone, via two of the era's greatest artists. An elegy to an elegy.
Seiichi Hayashi joined Toei Doga in 1962 and remained there until 1965. The protagonist of Elegy in Red is a struggling animator, so presumably the story is partly autobiographical. It was under Toei's most famous case of an animator-turned-indie, Sadao Tsukioka, that Hayashi began creating independent animation after leaving Toei. The two were apparently good friends while at Toei, so after quitting, Tsukioka invited Hayashi to join the studio he had just formed, Studio Nack. From that point on, Hayashi would go on to create several indie films that were shown at festivals; make numerous advertisements, most famously a series of Koume adverts for Lotte, as well as other adverts featuring the elegantly drawn beauties for which he had by then become known; contribute the oil on glass animation scene in Mushi Pro's Belladonna in 1973; and continue to make music videos for Minna no Uta like Happy Birthday in 1988.
Hayashi's last involvement in anime came with the designs for Gisaburo Sugii's legendary adaptation of Genji Monogatari in 1987, while in 2003 he created a beautiful short for the Winter Days omnibus, a film that immediately precedes this adaptation of Elegy in Red. I'd been hoping to see more from Seiichi Hayashi the animator since seeing his Winter Days short, so what a delight it was to discover that he had adapted his masterpiece, and that it turned out to be the best short I've seen from him.
Meanwhile, of course, Hayashi debuted as a manga artist in 1967, and also became active as an illustrator. In 2000 he drew the poster for the Hiroshima International Animation Festival. I'm not familiar with his other manga work, but in October of 1999 he published an extraordinary tome entitled The Guppy Still Lives that would almost certainly rank as one of the most important and cited manga books of the last decade were it not for the explicitly pornographic nature of much of its imagery.
Each film in the Ganime series has a very different style, usually having little to do with the typical anime look, because a different artist, usually an illustrator or manga artist, is brought on for each film. The concept is similar to the concept behind the two Madhouse Kenji Miyazawa OVAs from the late 80s, which were told mostly through striking still images.
The other films in the series actually usually feature a good deal of camerawork and touches of animation, albeit sparely, so the films cannot be confused with regular anime, much less regular animation. There is obviously considerable leeway in the concept of 'ganime'. It's not just stills. It's not an approach that hasn't been tried before, but it's interesting that Toei Animation, of all studios, should be the one to release such a series, since they're a studio that were once synonymous with full animation in Japan.
Unfortunately, all of the other films I've sampled are generally less than stellar, if not downright unwatchable. Fantascope ~ Tylostoma ~ is a poetic love story told entirely through the evocative pencil sketches of Yoshitaka Amano, while G-9 is a more conventional-seeming action sci-fi story about a girl with superpowers defeating a rampaging monster, drawn by Tweeny Witches creator Keita Amemiya entirely with an ink brush. The former was completely flaccid and lacking in visual interest, while the latter was just kitchy and embarrassing.
The latter did gel into something convincing during the battle scene, when the protagonist's figure transforms dynamically into abstract shapes. The images were pretty, but more than that, it struck me as one of the few spots in the series that seemed to satisfyingly engage the theoretical questions about animation that a series with this concept could have been a great vehicle for exploring. Using literally 24s, it creates an image that stands in the hazy conceptual area right between when a still image transforms into animation: not quite fast enough to be animation, but not quite slow enough to be still images.
But that's about it. This could have been a great series to explore the various guises of stillness in animation. Instead, we have a bunch of low-brow horror shorts that seem embarrassingly misguided. I only came away frustrated that such a good opportunity wasn't given to talented animators rather than people with no interest or skill in animation.
The puppet film The Dunwich Horror seemed promising, being based on stories by H.P. Lovecraft and featuring music by Jim O'Rourke. The music creates a great atmosphere, and they did what I'd always wanted to see - get my favorite Japanese actor, Kenichi Endo, to voice-act in animation. But the film came across as just ludicrous and boring, due perhaps to the shoddy directing. The crudely-made puppets were actually quite appealing and a good match with the story, but the directing took a completely conventional approach to the drama, rather than taking an approach that really showed off the strange beauty of the puppets and sets, and the unique approach of this series. The stillness didn't work, basically, wasn't appealing. It's as if we were watching the animatic for a puppet film to be, rather than a film in which each image spoke with unshakable authority the way the images in Elegy in Red do. It only goes to show how challenging it can be to make a film hold up with such minimal means. I mean, imagine trying to make a puppet film in which you're not allowed to move the puppets.
One of the defining traits in the historical development of anime is how the animators compensated for being unable to use lavish full animation by focusing on coming up with interesting timing and still drawings. Madhouse had grown out of Mushi Pro, which invented TV anime by creating sequences of striking images rather than animation, so it's less surprising that they would champion the limited style of anime. Toei Doga joined the fray quickly after Mushi Pro, switching course from producing lavishly animated feature films to an almost complete focus on limited TV anime, becoming one of the studios at the core of the development of the limited TV animation aesthetic in Japan. So this OVA comes across as Toei symbolically embracing the limited heritage that came to define anime in the eyes of the world - a legacy that, ironically, the most famous early participants at Toei continue to rail against. But that's the beauty of animation in Japan - even in the same house, it embraces a multiplicity.
Some very nice drawings there. Is the short as stylised as those commercials?
Hmm. It was fun discovering Hayashi did the “Koume-chan” illustrations for Lotte. Last time I was in japan, and was looking for a few souvenirs to a friend, I remember being struck by the beautiful Koume candy package-illustration and immediately picked it up. Just lovely.
Great article btw.
Thanks for introduce me Seiichi Hayashi
Seiichi Hayashi style is very beautiful and expressive for me.
I hope I will have the chance to read his Manga someday too.
But his style is very simmiliar to the Album Covers of ASIAN KUNG-FU GENERATION.
This music video has a Hayashi style but I’m not sure if it was Hayashi who created the album covers of AJIKAN.
Here is a music video from AJIKAN.
I think the animation director was Kazuto Nakawa.
a AJIKAN Album Cover
The cover art for AKFG is done by Yusuke Nakamura.
Thanks, Muffin. Yeah, apparently that design has graced the candies for over thirty years now. There’s even a book collecting the various drawings that he drew for the ‘Koume-chan saga’ that graced the packages.
Leedar, the short is stylized similarly, but it doesn’t have the sort of detailed movement you see in those, or quite the level of energy put into creating a beautifully refined feeling in the figure. The drawings are simpler and the palette mostly black and white in keeping with the manga. The figures in the manga are actually deformed quite extremely, and look very different from his adverts. The short doesn’t have quite the extreme deformation and weird posing that makes the manga unique.
Watching those adverts again, I really love the JACCS ones in particular. So little movement, yet it feels so alive. It reminds me of the kind of thing Katsuya Kondo has been doing so many years later.
Forgot to point out that, if it wasn’t clear, the first of the four videos was the original Koume-chan commercial from 1975, and the other one was a recent updating commemorating the original.
Thanks for pointing out that Nakamura Yusuke work, Bahijd and Leedar. I really like it. He’s got a sensibility close to Hayashi.
I think that Seiichi invented a new style wich other new artist use as inspiration.
She has some kind of Seiichi style…her characters look a little like seiichis in some way.
It’s a little problematic to watch her gallery completely because you have to get a pixiv account.
What I actually wanted to say is that Seiichi created a new art style.
Where did you see this short, btw? I read the english edition of the comic, and liked it, but kind of felt it would have been better with more contextual essays, interviews etc because the book delt with a lot of things that were happening in Japan at the time, (the loss of the women’s rights movement for one thing), but there was really nothing to sort of guide a westren reader that wasn’t familiar with 1960s/1970s japanese politics to get it.
I really want to see this short.
the short is here, enjoy