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Rating: The universe of Japanese animation, contrary to the bleak European and American panorama, has always been a place where hundreds of more or less interesting productions have seen the light and disappeared in such a short time as to seem almost nonexistent. It is therefore extremely challenging to create something that imprints itself in the memory of fans, elevating it to a cultural phenomenon. The few products that have succeeded in this endeavor have always had the great merit of breaking or expanding the unwritten rules and limits of the categories and genres to which they belonged, leading to cross-contaminations or inflections that surprised those who came into contact with them. The most striking and surely well-known example of this kind of phenomenon can only be that absolute masterpiece known as "Neon Genesis Evangelion," a jewel of the never-too-praised Gainax studio, which had already astounded Otakus worldwide by creating another splendid anime, "Fushigi No Umi No Nadia," known in our parts as "The Secret of Blue Water." Initially revealed to be a failing product due to its significant deviation from normal Japanese standards, Evangelion would soon become the revolution involving the entire sector. From then on, productions started to want to become necessarily cerebral and complicated, often resulting in poor quality and tiring in the long run. This phenomenon, however, led to a liberalization of thought and a freedom of themes previously unimaginable. It is precisely in this particularly fertile period of ideas that the multimedia project encapsulated under the Utena brand takes shape for the first time, destined to become one of the symbols of the new Japanese conception underpinning animation. If this project was indeed developed through a manga, a video game, a musical, an animated series, and a feature film, (which were not consequences of the great success of one of these products that then led to the others, but which were all CONCEPTUALLY designed at the same time, hence it is a project...), in reality, it is only these last two that deserve the title of milestones, rightfully placing the great Kunihiko Ikuhara, (known to us mainly for having directed the 3rd and 4th series of "Sailor Moon"), in the Olympus of great Anime creators of the Land of the Rising Sun.
Having made this important premise, essential to understand a bit the importance of this production in the Japanese animated landscape, I am ready to review one of the technically and conceptually most deserving feature films I have ever had the chance to see.
Utena Tenjo is a very young girl who has the habit of dressing like a man, and also behaving more or less as if she were one. In her wanderings within the new institute she has just transferred to, the bizarre and boundless Ohtori academy, the girl finds herself faced with a beautiful white rose that delicately unfolds in her presence, revealing within it a ring engraved with the symbol of a rose. Slightly shaken by what has happened to her, Utena soon discovers that the ring is the so-called Seal of the Rose, a jewel that, once worn, allows access to a kind of secret order within the institute, the so-called Circle of Duelists, also composed of all the members of the student council. The duelists who are part of it engage in fierce sword fights with each other, with the prize at stake being one of their peers, Anthy Himemiya, called the Rose Bride. Whoever wins the duel with the previous winner becomes the ABSOLUTE MASTER of the girl, earning the right to do with her as they please (even at a sexual level, whether man or woman) and thus gaining the possibility of obtaining the mysterious power of world revolution, linked to the bride herself. What this revolution is, so coveted by the duelists, the film only alludes to without ever giving a logical answer within the narrative.
While the television series followed the basic plot, developing it according to a logical thread, providing explanations within the dialogues and the story itself but hiding the most important meanings and the theological, philosophical, and psychological reflections and metaphors that enriched its content, the feature film moves in the opposite way, using only the plot guidelines, retelling the entire affair in a completely different way, to then overflow into a series of scenes apparently devoid of sense and logical connection, completely out of context, and in misleading dialogue not kind to the narrative fabric. This incarnation of Utena should not be received, it must be COMPLETELY interpreted, and as such it is associable to the very concept of a dream. Everything seen on the screen is nothing but a long dreamlike journey where every scene that unfolds before us does not find its reason for being in the protagonists' lives, but finds it in the intrinsic meaning it gives to the viewer, who at first sight cannot help but be completely overwhelmed by the lack of reference points starting from the second half of the film. Everything we see, hear, that our mind absorbs, is nothing but the much-desired power to revolutionize the world, completely invisible to the characters, but easily graspable by our minds once the ingenious sleight of hand to which Ikuhara has allowed us to witness is understood. The revolution is indeed the change at a psychological, idealistic, and sexual level that involves Anthy and Utena, and only indirectly the characters with whom they find themselves living, reduced to the spring, the force, the spark that triggers this process. It is once this is understood that the subtitle given to the work, that "Adolescent Apocalypse," finds its reason for being, which is the interpretative key of the feature film itself. It is the new awareness of feelings, urges, and instincts and knowing how to face the prejudices and bigotry of the world, which is the linchpin of the moral present in Utena. The very setting where the protagonists move, the majestic Ohotori academy, perfectly reflects the estrangement and sense of inadequacy in the world that the adolescent faces. The architectural structures are majestically high, incredibly intricate, almost labyrinthine, full of passages, bridges, stairs, and corridors, creating on the screen an optical illusion similar to what is observed in Escher's illustrations. Moreover, many of these structures are constantly in motion, further conveying a sense of a lack of reference points in everyday reality, despite the height of the structures clearly indicating that one is within overly well-defined boundaries. One of the most significant scenes in this sense sees Utena following Anthy towards the highest tower of the institute, never able to reach it, separated by seemingly unrelated structures.
The characterization of the protagonists is thus the culmination of the artistic process involving the entire film, gradually giving incredible depth to figures that at the beginning of the anime seemed just the classic schoolgirls already seen in thousands of shojo backgrounds. Moreover, considering that the film duration is only 90 minutes, compared to the 39 episodes of the series, the result is astounding even when compared to the complexity of the themes introduced.
On the technical front, the film is a true masterpiece for the eyes, a splendid exercise in style, an elevation of beauty in all its forms. The animations, by the never-too-praised J.C. Staff are smooth and believable in relation to the characters, remaining extremely elegant and graceful even during the duel scenes. The character design is typical of shojos: ethereal figures, all tall, slender, and beautiful; nevertheless, it finds its strength in the extreme attention given to detail, which is nothing short of obsessive, giving each character the right distinctiveness, making them stand out clearly from the others. Additionally, the protagonists are eternally posing, almost as if an invisible painter were ready to immortalize them in all their beauty. The soundtrack is equally curated, with wonderful music that spans all areas but gives its best in the epicness of the duel scenes. But the true strength of the entire product is its direction, absolutely ingenious. Not serving the narrative, but driving the very narrative itself, Ikuhara's aesthetic direction is constantly in search of the effect that provokes wonder and eye satisfaction in the viewer, finding form in shots and choices that to define as daring is an understatement, but which give the film a peculiar style, tending towards the fabulous and dreamlike.
In conclusion, Utena is a difficult work. It is certainly not a product to watch to spend an hour and a half without thoughts, as you risk relegating the DVD to a coaster as soon as you finish watching it. It is a work that finds its reason for being in experimentation and is appreciable on two very distinct levels. The first is the purely aesthetic side, the second the purely reflective one. If you are interested in one or the other, the viewing is highly recommended. And remember once you are fascinated by Utena's world, to discover the splendid TV series.
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