Reviews of Short Peace (2013) and related work

• Entry: “Possessions” (2012)
• Entry: “Combustible” (2012)
• Entry: “Gambo” (2013)
• Entry: “A Farewell to Weapons” (2013)

Short Peace (2013)

Seen in 2025.

Morimoto Kōji’s opening sequence is appropriately foreboding as to the overall quality of this Sunrise anthology. A symbolic vanishing shōjo, as analyzed in Anime from Akira to Howl’s Moving Castle (2001/2005), is lifted up by a luminous entity that seems to enter through the vagina, causing the laughing girl to shift rapidly through a series of magical costume changes. That scene then fades to the title sequence, where the “o” is a full red circle in the otherwise white phrase “Short Peace”, in much the same way that the poster for the whole anthology collects all of its main characters in one red ball on a clean white backdrop. It’s the Japanese flag, directly combined with the symbolic pluripotency of the shōjo. In just a few seconds, you get the direct symbolic fertilization of a more or less magical girl fused to the nation’s future.

That Morimoto sequence promises anime in the pressure cooker of the national subconscious, like Akira (1988), but it isn’t very well made. Aside from the sexism and the grossness of sexualizing a child, the verve just isn’t there.

Japanese production animation fiction moving picture

‣ “Possessions” (2012)

Seen in 2025.

The tracking is off, but the rectangular design of the man’s muscles adds a curious physicality to this ghost-story comedy.

References here: “A Farewell to Weapons” (2013).

Japanese production animation fiction moving picture entry

‣ “Combustible” (2012)

Ōtomo Katsuhiro (writer-director).

Seen in 2025.

Anime News Network reports that the fire depicted here is the Great Fire of Meireki (1657), but Japanese Wikipedia disputes this, saying that a particular legend about the origin of that fire with a long-sleeved kimono is just one of three famous stories that inspired Ōtomo. The legend is not accurately retold here, and Wikipedia has the plot set in the 18th century, which excludes Meireki.

Speaking of the time period, the original title is Hi-no-youjin (beware of fire), written in a way that is now obsolete (火要鎮 instead of the modern 火の用心) but which does not seem otherwise significant. The trick of the scroll is neatly done though. The graphic design mimics authentic scrolls of the period, which is especially impressive in the crowd scenes, despite the CGI. Ōtomo brings his usual attention to detail. The ending, however, is dissatisfyingly ambiguous for a romance. It feels like the budget was just enough to evoke the era and provide a momentary spectacle.

Japanese production animation fiction moving picture entry

‣ “Gambo” (2013)

Seen in 2025.

Nonsensical, ugly, hyperviolent and sexually grotesque in a way that colours my reading of Morimoto’s opening sequence.

fiction moving picture entry

‣ “A Farewell to Weapons” (2013)

Seen in 2025.

Written and directed by Katoki Hajime from an original story by Ōtomo Katsuhiro. The attention to technical detail is extreme, surpassing “Metal Skin Panic MADOX- 01” (1987) with the advantage of 3D CGI, rendered mostly in the style of celluloid analog animation but with textures for dirt and battle damage. The disposable soft-plastic tear-offs on the helmets are a really neat touch. The futuristic drone warfare is realistic enough to be prescient, despite the energy weapons and the prolonged ambiguity as to whether the mission is real or an exercise. This ambiguity is created by the way the suits freeze up when they’re hit, as if they’re just playing laser tag.

The story is evocative, despite the weak characterization of everyone involved. The final shot pans to Mount Fuji like the final shot of “Possessions” (2012) to close off the collection where it began, with a symbol of the nation. The volcano is smoking and emits two new puffs with the sound of explosions. I can’t identify the buildings in that shot; I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to be a futuristic Ōtemachi and a ruined Tokyo Station, but something like it. In the ruins, Marl is running naked toward an autonomous sentry with what is implied to be the armed warhead of a large missile, possibly an ICBM, that was carried on a fake subway train. The puffs from Fuji are designed to create the ambiguous impression that the warhead may have gone off. Meanwhile, on the soundtrack, melodious crooners sing 「夢で会いましょう」, “Let’s meet in our dreams”. This must be intended to evoke the ending of Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964), where a nuclear exchange happens to the tune of Vera Lynn’s “We’ll Meet Again”. Symbolically, Ōtomo is marrying the grandiose, suicidal masculinity of Strangelove to the stunted, thwarted masculinity of Little Boy (2005). The awakened Fuji is another phallus. It’s a neat trick; a wry symbolic depth that reminds me of Ōtomo’s Roujin Z (1991).

Japanese production animation fiction mecha moving picture entry