Hello everyone, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I’m eager to dive back into the annals of anime history, as we explore another of Toei Doga’s classic films: The Little Prince and the Eight-Headed Dragon. A loose retelling of Susanoo’s battle with Yamata no Orochi, the film is considered a standout among Toei Doga’s films, featuring uniquely modernist art design and bountiful, beautiful cuts of animation. This was also the first film to formalize anime’s approach to an “animation director,” here handled by the incomparable Yasuji Mori (who previously animated all of the animals in Panda and the Magic Serpent, that touching Rin-Rin scene from Alakazam the Great!, and much else besides). With Toei Doga’s team in top form animating a story that’s genuinely worthy of them, The Little Prince has retained a reputation as one of the true masterpieces of anime, and I’m eager to see it in motion. Let’s explore!
The Little Prince and the Eight-Headed Dragon
We open on a narrator explaining that this is a story from long ago, in the age of the ancient gods. It’s interesting how polytheistic faiths like Shintoism lend themselves to human dramas like this, with their array of personality-rich gods seeming far more relatable than some monotheistic creator deity
Even in the abstracted forms of this opening legend, we can already see a shift in art design sensibilities from the earlier films. While earlier Toei Doga films featured human character designs reminiscent of traditional Japanese paintings, with elongated faces and smooth curves, these new designs embrace simple shapes and a greater degree of abstraction, reflecting modernist and cubist aesthetic innovations
Izanagi and Izanami create the islands of Japan, leading us into our title screen
Oh, interesting – the credits say this is actually an adaptation of three separate stories from the ‘Nihon Shoki,’ an eighth-century collection of Japanese mythology. Presumably they’re all framed here as distinct adventures of our little prince
Isao Takahata’s also an assistant director on this film, and of course Otsuka provided plenty of key animation. It’s always a jolt to receive these reminders of anime’s brief history; major creators didn’t just influence each other artistically, they often also literally worked together
My god, this art design! We open on a dynamic sequence implying a butterfly is perched on the camera’s lens, then pushes off to flutter before flower-speckled dunes. Both the butterfly and background designs are utterly unlike the traditional tapestry-reminiscent aesthetic of the earlier films; instead, they’re all bold colors and sharp angles, looking more like cut paper than drawn lines. In spite of this, the greenery’s shifting painted textures give these plants a sense of vibrancy and depth, making the whole scene look energetic and inviting. A massive and exciting shift from Toei Doga’s prior house style
There’s also very little shading or distinctions in depth; I can see both the fruits of modernism and seeds of superflat present here, abstractions that still congeal into a recognizable landscape
A tiger chases a rabbit across the screen, and we see that this film’s animal designs similarly embrace abstracted forms based around collections of simple shapes. The rabbit in particular is depicted as a carefully arranged collection of triangles; his angular form evokes speed and panic, the rabbit’s essence captured in its very outline
Love the fully abstract backgrounds used for this chase here – embracing impressionist influences, the film reduces bushes and flowers to smears of color, presenting the backgrounds as these characters experience them in the heat of the chase
Some great gags here too, like the tiger using his tail as a descending crossing gate to block the rabbit in. This film just feels remarkably confident
And our young prince Susano arrives. As with all the character designs, he’s abstracted into simple shapes that better facilitate animation: round head, rectangular torso, tapered triangle limbs. As he tosses the tiger (appropriately named “Taro”) around, we see the benefits of this aesthetic in terms of animated fluidity, as well as how gracefully the characters integrate into their backgrounds. There’s such a commonality of aesthetic between characters and scenery that the composite is basically perfect, with no “seams” separating character from environment – an effect that’s also greatly amplified by the film’s generally flat shading
Susano’s design embodies what Otsuka described as Mori’s “introverted” characters, by which he means their bodies are constructed of a larger core that tapers to small limbs, rather than the opposite (like, say, Lupin’s designs)
The squashes, the stretches, the general “bounciness” of this tiger – the animators are having a wonderful time bringing this beatdown to life
Susano’s mother arrives, preaching forgiveness for Taro. Her design is somewhat more reminiscent of Toei Doga’s prior style (smooth, elongated limbs and pale coloration), though the shape of the head and slope of the shoulders are also somewhat rounded and simplified, making her fit neatly within this film’s new aesthetic
“A boy needs both a strong body and a kind heart”
Their trip to a nearby river offers more beautifully realized backgrounds, this time marked by small trees with tangles of branches proliferating upwards, echoing the river’s flow
The tanuki designs are also great; they’ve basically got gourd-shaped bodies, which naturally imply their peaceful nature and fluffiness
You can really see the benefits of animating to vocal takes, rather than the modern practice of acting to storyboards, in how Susano’s mother’s whole body sways perfectly in time with her song here
We cut to rabbit and tanuki competing in a sumo match, which rabbit improbably wins
The sky darkens and leaves scatter in the breeze as a voice mournfully sings that “Izanami is gone.” Once again, the lack of shading makes for a clean composite between the leaves and background
We meet Susano’s father Izanagi, who indeed looks precisely like the abstracted collection of circles and rectangles from the pre-title sequence
Clever use of genuine physical smoke with Izanami’s form layered over it, conveying her journey up to heaven
Izanagi forbids Susano from chasing after his mother. Delightful distortions in Susano’s bodily form as he breaks down in tears. His arms and legs are such fluid instruments!
His body almost dissolves into a puddle as he rages by the shoreline, grief literally tearing him apart
After he cries himself into exhaustion, his mother returns in a haze of starlight. A remarkable sense of tenderness conveyed through her slow movements here, as she carefully extends her arms to comfort her son
He pleads with her to stay, but she says she must return to heaven. For this sequence, only the central ring of action is in focus, while the edges are blurred in order to convey the dubious reality of this moment
She gives him a necklace with a red tear-shaped jewel to protect him. I don’t really know much about Susano’s tale compared to Journey to the West or Sansho the Bailiff, but I assume this gift is important
More wonderfully distinctive animation to convey their personalities and bond, with Susano physically surrounding and hanging onto his mother, unwilling to let her go
Susano’s attempt to chase his mother shifts us from naturalistic character acting to more delightful abstractions, with splashes of single blues bursting from the center of the screen and dissolving, thus conveying his desperate attempt to swim to heaven as if we in the audience are attempting to swim through the screen. Like the opening trick with the butterfly on the camera lens, choices like this make us feel like active participants in the drama
Susano elects to build a boat in order to find his mother. “First we will go to the Land of the Night to meet my brother, the Crystal Prince. Then to the Land of Light to meet my sister, the Sun Goddess. We’ll ask them how to find my mother”
His animal friends understand the hopelessness of this quest, and decline to join him. Only the rabbit Akahana agrees to come, albeit accidentally
His eventual boat waves a flag of the same red as his mother’s ornament
This sequence of their departure is a pure celebration of the fluidity of these animal bodies, and how they can contort naturally to wave goodbye
Out on the open sea, the minimalism of these block colors is even more striking. Gosh do I love the boldness and distinctiveness of this art direction, and it’s so perfect for animation!
Great waves approach, conjured by a massive and terrible fish. Love its beady little hexagon eyes, and the absolute sense of weight and consequence as it leaps from the water and crashes mightily beneath it. This seems very much like an Otsuka monster
Due to the fish’s simplified design, with a full color block body adorned with fins, the animators are able to easily stretch him like a rubber band
The King of the Sea arrives to thank Susano for defeating the fish, and repairs his boat for him
Love this guy’s goofy little garden gnome design
Susano’s entry into the “Crystal Cave” offers more wonders of background design, as he trudges through abstracted pink-and-blue crystals while shimmering lights rain from above. We’re exploring a world’s worth of fantastical environments
The multicolored crystals are replaced by a vast congregation of clear crystalline shelves as our heroes approach the Land of Night. In a world where creatures and venues are defined by geometry, it seems clear that this is the land of star shapes as well
The guardians of this place have their own delightful aesthetic – they appear made of the crystal themselves, with variable cylinder bodies and puny stick limbs
The crystal prince is summoned shape by shape from a glass portal. His body echoes the shapes of his guards, though his face and hair are reminiscent of Susano and his father
Susano is encased in ice! Some lovely distortions of form and smears for Akahana freaking out in response, including some of those delightful trails of eyes
The Minister of War essentially has a slinky for a torso, his cylindrical body expanding and contracting as necessary
Susano’s brother refuses to tell him where his mother is, and so he departs, while Akahana receives a crystal ball to protect our wanderers
They are thrown from the crystal cave and emerge in a land of fire, with brimstone raining upon them. Excellent facial contortions for Susano as he assesses their new predicament
A large man introduces himself as Big Tombo, and explains they’re suffering from a terrible drought. I assume this is our transition point to the second story, with Susano’s brother essentially throwing him into a new narrative. Works relatively well for an episodic series of adventures like this, in the same model as Journey to the West
Apparently all this desolation is the work of a Fire God living in a volcano
Oh, his design is wonderful. He appears as a face in the fire itself, sloping eyes and sharp teeth framed within ever-shifting pillars of flame. With designs this simplified and abstracted, characters can not just emerge from, but even exist in continuous concert with the backgrounds themselves
The fire god is not impressed by Susano’s parentage
Nice action choreography for Susano deflecting this hail of flaming swords. I have to assume this sequence was handled by the same animator who tackled Zushio being ambushed on the way to Sansho’s fort in Anju to Zushiomaru – both the choreography and the storyboarding feel remarkably similar
Even when the fire god takes a humanoid form, he is still rimmed with billowing flames. And the transition to that form is a marvel in its own right, as his unruly fires contort and flow with chaotic fluidity
The fire god is slashed in half, but reforms as two fire gods. Man, the combination of physical action choreography and continuous flame animation here is just absurd – simply animating a character fighting with a spear convincingly is difficult enough, but this fight features two such spearmen fighting while flames continuously rage all along their bodies, dragging behind their movements and constantly reforming
These morphing fires are simply absurd. Remarkable what embracing a generally flat aesthetic will facilitate in other directions
And the film’s so playful, too! Cute gag of Akahana’s crystal ball shining like a fire truck’s siren as he races to help his friends
The crystal ball empowers Susano’s blade with ice magic, and we’re off to the races! Each of his strikes transforms a gust of flame into a splash of water, serving as a tidy celebration of the distinctions between how this film animates different elements
Through both its score and styles of abstraction, this battle sequence reminds me quite a bit of Fantasia – The Pastoral Symphony and Night on Bald Mountain in particular
Big Tombo asks to join the party, that he may find a more fertile land for his people. He’s a good egg, that Tombo
And Susano is gifted a magic bird to carry him to his destination. Presumably this will serve as our transition to the third narrative, with the companions Susano acquires serving as a binding agent for these distinct stories
The bird is a wonder in its own right – a pure white vessel, serving as a splash of negative space in a sea of stars
The sumptuously detailed clouds part, and the Land of Light awaits!
As with every land before, the Land of Light is portrayed with a unique set of colors and shapes. Here, tangled roots rise from the mist in an echo of the swirling clouds, creating shapes like wobbling tree rings. Between those objects and the vast misty gaps between them, this is the film’s first environment which at all resembles classic Japanese tapestries, or indeed Toei Doga’s own prior films (Panda and the Magic Serpent in particular)
His sister invites him to stay here, and create a place for the refugees from the fire country
Our idiot heroes proceed to cause a fuss all through the Land of Light, sending horses careening through looms and draining rice paddies and generally making royal nuisances of themselves
Susano fucks up so bad his sister retreats to hide in a cave, taking all of the light of the world with her. Goddamnit Susano!
The Land of Light’s elder has his own distinct style of animation, with his age and lethargy conveyed through rounded forms and unusually slow movements
He engineers a scheme to trick Susano’s sister into opening her cave door by hosting a party just outside, with music accompanying a group of dancers. The dancers’ movements are of course synced perfectly to the soundtrack, both in terms of tempo and action. Heavy drums and trombones accompany a quartet of heavy-set dancers, while the lone woman spins gracefully to flutes and strings. A pure celebration of magic and animation working in tandem, once again drawing Fantasia to mind
The dancers spin, conjuring streams of flowers and twinkling stars in their wake. This film features completely distinct modes of animation for fire, water, and now wind. Truly absurd feats of effects animation
The scheme works! Susano’s sister returns, and banishes him from the Land of Light. She furthermore offers him some necessary advice regarding how he should apply himself. Only through helping others may he find the realm where his mother dwells
Our transition to act three offers one more beautiful composition, as a dew-speckled spider web serves as a veil between us and a dark forest of gnarled root and tangled vine. Somber tones this time, making for a strong contrast with the bright pastels of the Land of Light
Susano saves a mouse from drowning, a fine first step in his journey of repentance
He is then greeted by a purple-robed girl, who thanks him for saving her friend. Apparently this is the Land of the Morning Sun
Suddenly the river runs red, which apparently means Yamata-no-Orochi will soon arrive to steal away another young girl
The people of this land have their own distinct body designs – mostly focused on circles, but I like how this elderly man’s face is a half-circle with the flat side facing his nose, which morphs to an opposing half-circle whenever he turns his head
As thanks for saving his son, the mouse’s father reveals that Susano must find Ama-no-Haya-Uma before facing the dragon, a magical flying horse
The horse’s grove is unsurprisingly articulated through yet another entirely distinct aesthetic style, with the trees here essentially being composed of loose, variable smears of paint branching off perpendicularly from a central trunk. The roughness and inconsistency of these smears convey a sense of wild energy
Hah, what a goofy little horse! Love his big nose and mohawk
With just Susano and this new girl present, the film shifts more towards the style of naturalistic character acting typified by Anju to Zushiomaru
I feel like every Toei Doga film must contain at least one scene of adorable animals fitting themselves into tiny battle gear for a big fight. It’s a good policy
Lightning cracks the sky and ravages the thorny landscape as our dragon approaches!
A wonderfully atmospheric sequence for Yamata-no-Orochi’s arrival – we first see it in brief glimpses, as a coiled shadow rising over the horizon, before the heads emerge as silhouettes with pinpoint eyes
The dragon’s fire is made distinct from the Fire God’s both in color and composition, a crimson red that billows outward marked by lines of internal definition, like a great cloud of death
The dragon’s dark coloration against these red-tinged thunderclouds make it seems like the beast is the night itself, which Susano and his horse’s bright form seemingly swallowed by darkness
One of the heads is speared, and begins spewing green fire across the land. Seven to go!
Man. Seeing incredible sequences like this, where only one or two key animators conjured seemingly impossible marvels into movement, makes me feel all the more sad about the industry’s current status. Great things are possible if animators are given the time and resources necessary to make their best work, but current industry producers just want as many advertisements for source material produced as quickly as possible, regardless the cost in terms of either the artists or the work
Granted, even when a project is given ample support, it’s likely to be something with no appeal beyond the core audience. Really wish the industry hadn’t gone all-in on appealing to the most incurious crowd imaginable
Another head down, and Susano shifts to his sword!
Tombo’s javelin is loosed, and another head is speared!
Having rightfully decided this fight isn’t going his way, Yamata-no-Orochi decides to dispense with the pleasantries and go grab his new girl
God damn. This sequence of the girl scrambling on the ground as she attempts to flee the dragon feels like one of the film’s most impressive cuts yet, and its most convincing articulation of Toei Doga’s naturalist approach to human movements
Another head falls! This clear countdown of heads is definitely helping to provide a sense of structure to the overall battle
Just one terrific sequence after another, like this cut of Susano racing alongside a cliff, the shadow of the dragon chasing him hanging just behind him. I believe this entire battle was animated by Sadao Tsukioka and Otsuka – Otsuka recalled that while working on the film, he would see the battle in his sleep
The cliff collapses on one, then two others are compelled to attack each other. One head left!
And his mother’s jewel transforms into a dagger, allowing him to leap aboard the final dragon’s head and administer the killing blow! Dear lord, what a sequence
Our mouse friend reveals that it was actually Susano’s sister who sent him his flying horse
And in one last transformation, the blasted landscape melts into Susano’s longed-for paradise. Sure, animate a dozen flowers delicately blooming in full detail, that’s surely no trouble at all
Susano’s mother arrives to say her final goodbyes, and at last her son is ready to hear them
And Done
God, what a movie! That truly did feel like the realization of everything these consistently impressive films have been working towards, featuring a panoply of distinctive, impressive animation styles, as well as the most creative and beautiful art direction so far. The adoption of an animation director did indeed give the film a greater sense of aesthetic continuity, but at the same time, the various styles and specialties of the film’s key animators came through clearly, whether in the epic spectacle of the fire god, the playful comedy of Akahana, or the vivid character acting of the dragon’s intended victim. All that, and it was also simply an exciting, action-packed adventure, with each new stop offering a distinct world of background and character design. This is a film I’ll surely be playing for others, and inviting them to also enjoy the ageless accomplishments of anime’s early legends. A true masterpiece.
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