If you've been following my Facebook posts religiously for the past few months (because, let's face it: why wouldn't you), you may be aware that certain people in Hollywood have been doing everything in their power to make a live-action version of Katsuhiro Otomo's cyberpunk manga (and anime) masterpiece, Akira.
For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, here's a quick synopsis:
Akira takes place in Neo-Tokyo several decades in the future, many years after a mysterious explosion obliterates the original Tokyo and basically starts World War III. The main story revolves around Kaneda and Tetsuo, two friends/juvenile delinquents/bike gang members who become mortal enemies after Tetsuo develops psychokinetic powers, is kidnapped by the government, escapes, and more or less crowns himself the god-king of Neo-Tokyo. The manga is spread out over six large volumes and has a shit-ton of subplots and supporting characters with distinct personalities, loyalties, and motivations. It's widely considered to be one of the most influential comic books ever created. The animated adaptation is also extremely highly regarded, although its two-hour run time means that a number of subplots and characters are removed entirely.
Needless to say, I kinda love Akira – and under different circumstances, I'd be unbelievably pumped for a live-action remake (though I'd be most excited about an actual Akira series that would faithfully adapt the entire manga). The problem, however, is that the Powers That Be want to take Akira the way of The Last Airbender and utterly ignore everything that makes the original creation unique.
“White Akira,” as its detractors have dubbed it, would be set in Neo-Manhattan, starring a cast of famous, attractive white people. And also Kaneda would be a bartender and Tetsuo would be his brother.
Um... what?
I understand that name-recognition is a good thing and that certain changes have to be made in the adaptation process, but there comes a point when you just straight-up forfeit the right to call your movie Akira. Also, why in the flying fuck would a bunch of crackers from New York City have Japanese names?
That sound you hear is me having a brain aneurysm.
Look: Akira is an inherently Japanese story. Its creator was Japanese, it's set in Japan, the characters are all Japanese (except for the American military characters, who are assholes), and then there's the whole Hiroshima/Nagasaki angle. Japan is the only country in the world that has ever felt the full force of an atomic bombing, and the threat of fiery annihilation hangs over Akira like the fucking thermonuclear warhead of Damocles. And who bombed Japan?
WE DID.
Imagine the following:
A Native American artist creates a comic book about the Trail of Tears.
An American movie studio decides to adapt the comic book into a movie.
The studio decides to cast Chris Hemsworth or someone equally Aryan as the tragically doomed hero.
The studio has no fucking idea why people are upset.
Dear Warner Brothers: YOU ARE MORONS. Thankfully, the Akira adaptation is currently on hold until the script can be rewritten and the $90 million budget can be deflated a bit. Here's hoping that it stays in development hell forever.
You know what the best part is, though?
I saw Chronicle this week, and it's better than any American film adaptation of Akira could ever hope to be – and its budget was a measly $15 million. Chronicle is the story of three high school students who find a mysterious alien artifact that grants them psychokinetic powers, and it bears a striking similarity to Akira in its latter half, when one of the protagonists goes mad with power and trashes most of downtown Seattle. Chronicle is all about the use and abuse of power, the trials of adolescence, and how friendships are formed and broken – all central themes in Akira – but despite that similarity, Chronicle manages to find fresh, original ways to present the material. While Josh Trank and Max Landis (the director and writer, respectively, who also collaborated on the story) readily admit that Akira was one of their major influences, their movie is its own entity and they have the freedom to do whatever they want with the characters because they're not pissing all over Katsuhiro Otomo's masterwork.
The “found footage” genre has never really been my favorite thing in the world. Movies like The Blair Witch Project, Cloverfield, and Paranormal Activity have demonstrated that the first-person camera viewpoint is an inexpensive – and sometimes very effective – way to tell a story, but the seemingly endless parade of sequels and imitators have made the limitations of the style painfully clear. Beyond that, I've never really been satisfied with the explanations for why these people keep filming everything, even as they're pursued by demons/cultists/kaiju and they'd clearly run faster if they just dropped the fucking camera and ran for their lives.
Chronicle, however, puts an interesting twist on things: the camera is a way for the protagonist to distance himself from reality. The world has not been kind to Andrew, whether at school or at home, and viewing the world through a lens allows him to distance himself from his shitty life. In short, the camera provides a sort of emotional (and sometimes even physical) protection. As the movie progresses, the newly empowered teenagers do what any member of the Youtube generation would: they use their powers to fuck with people and document it on film because it's funny as hell. Andrew even takes to “holding” the camera psychically, which means more smooth tracking shots and less hand-held jostling. The movie also makes full use of security cameras, news footage, and cell phone videos to keep telling the story when none of the protagonists can be bothered to hold a camera. In short, Chronicle is by far the most inventive entry in the found footage canon – and also, one of the only ones outside of the horror genre (I'd characterize Cloverfield as half-horror, half-sci-fi).
From a story point of view, Chronicle also addresses one of my biggest pet peeves about superpower films: the main characters actually practice using their powers, and the film shows distinct progress in the use of their abilities. One of the biggest reasons I hated the movie Jumper (aside from Hayden Christensen) was that the protagonist never demonstrated that he was anything special – if anything, he seemed to be below average in his skill level – until the climax, when he suddenly became the bestest teleporter who ever lived. That's stupid and terrible and one of the many reasons it was such a shitty movie. Chronicle, on the other hand, shows how the protagonists' powers grow with frequent use, and even shows that different characters have different specialties, like raw power or control and finesse. Their telekinesis is a muscle: the more they use it, the stronger they get.
My favorite parts of Chronicle are around the middle, when the three kids are just using their powers to screw around and have fun – their excitement and mischievousness is practically contagious. The movie builds three pretty believable characters and develops them all in distinct ways, and all of it builds to a pretty awesome climax.
Chronicle was the most fun I've had at the movies in quite some time, and I hope the people at Warner Brothers will realize that it makes “White Akira” even more unnecessary than it already was.
No comments:
Post a Comment