Sauce

Sanrio Puroland

Sanrio – the architects of Hello Kitty – have a hallowed hall here in Tokyo. Called Sanrio Puroland, it’s a Disneyland-style shrine dedicated to the über-kawaii cat created back in 1974 as Japan’s answer to the Dutch character, Miffy, that subsequently left Dick Bruna’s original creation in the dust. Thirty-three years on, Hello Kitty is a multi-million dollar franchise, and Sanrio Puroland is the must-see mecha for the faux feline’s aficionados from around the globe.

But there are some serious troubles in paradise for the unwary.

The disturbing apparitions of not just one single Hello Kitty character, but several different ones – some apparently various family members; others Kitty in multiple stages of dress and undress, depending on which show and the time of day – is too much, and all of ‘em look out of proportion and plain odd.

I mean, Kitty’s globular skull is supposed to be suspended above an equally bulbous, short-ass body with stumpy legs, isn’t it? Not human proportion. I write this in uppercase because I was truly disturbed by Sanrio’s apparent disregard for scale, except when it came to that iconic cranium. Don’t they realize the whole package should be in ratio? And since when did Kitty bear such a resemblance to Mickey Mouse, anyway? Ditch the sequined tuxedo, girl!

OK, OK. I’m willing to admit it. I’m more disturbed, you see, ‘cos I dug the song-and-dance shows anyway – and that’s just downright weird.
Sakuran

Perhaps the most visually-striking homegrown Japanese flick for 2007, Sakuran first popped up in theaters here in February, and was accompanied by garish posters and imagery that was liberally splashed across Tokyo train station billboards in the ensuing months, then was released on DVD in August – with similar iconic propaganda bombs.

It’s the debut directorial outing for photographer, Mika Ninagawa (see ninamika.com), a 35-year-old affiliate of the self-styled “new breed” of young(ish), happy-snapping, Japanese femme fatales. Her movie relates the unlikely success story of spirited waif, Kiyoya (played by Anna Tsuchiya, a relatively renowned half-Japanese, half-Russian/American rock singer, actress, and former model), who clambers and claws over the rank-and-file of the Yoshiwara red-light district of old Tokyo, then known as Edo, to eventually anoint herself as an oiran – or highest-level courtesan.

Sounds familiar?

Based on the stylish-if-overtly-provocative manga series of the same name by Moyoco Anno (the wife of Hideaki Anno, of Neon Genesis Evangelion anime fame), Sakuran’s plot does indeed resemble that of Arthur Golden’s Memoirs of a Geisha – except that Kiyoya’s Edo-based aspirations toward what was basically high-level career prostitution are a far fling from Chiyo’s ascent to geiko (geisha) in Kyoto in the latter tome.

There’re some stunning visual surprises here: along with a striking over-saturation of the color palette, it occasionally drifts into the realm of Wong Kar-wai’s regular Aussie cinematographer, Christopher Doyle, as well as the ‘60s cinematic experiments of veteran moviemaker Seijun Suzuki. However, the reliance on the opulence of bygone times, tweaked with Ninagawa’s contemporary eye, along with a soundtrack score than relies far more on modern techno and rock than on traditional samisen or koto sounds, makes for an experience that has more in common with Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette, or last year’s fellow Japanese rear-visionist outing, Memories of Matsuko – which was in fact the better movie.