'A silent voice': a step to end machismo in Japanese animation
This film is directed by Naoko Yamada, one of the most representative voices of Kyoto Animation, who wants to stand up to Hayao Mizayaki's legendary Ghibli studios
Japanese cinematography, like Chinese and Korean, continues to be deeply macho and there are not many names of women that we can find within its industry: Exactly only 20 of the 550 members that make up the Directors Guild of Japan, is say, 3.5%. But if this deficiency is already alarming in the conventional sector of the real image, the gap continues to be even more abysmal in the field of animation, where the list of female directors leading projects of a certain size, both in film and series television, it is ridiculous (16 titles in 2013 out of a total of approximately 150).
The problem is accentuated when this sexist gaze is transferred to the films that children consume, transmitting a retrograde message about the relationships between men and women that only perpetuate the rules of the patriarchal system to which they are still subject.
"The gap continues to be even more abysmal in the field of animation, where the list of female directors leading projects of a certain size, both in film and television series, is ridiculous (16 titles in 2013 out of an approximate total of 150) "
The Japanese mentality (in a ranking of 145 countries, Japan is at 101 in terms of gender equality) is rebellious in comments such as the one made by the producer of the legendary Studio Ghibli, Yoshiaki Nishimura to The Guardian publication on purpose of the premiere of The Memory of Marnie (2014) when asked why they did not hire a woman to direct one of their films. His answer was that they would never do such a thing, because women are incapable of fantasy. At the last San Sebastian Festival, when we asked the director of FireWorks (2017) to tell us about the protagonist of the film, he simplified it by saying that "he wanted her to be sexy and innocent and to show her legs with a little skirt".
Fortunately, a new generation of female directors begins to take over trying to find a place within this armoured male system. The only downside is that in most cases they are forced to perpetuate the stereotypes embedded in the collective imagination regarding the representation of women as objects.
Most are gradually achieving recognition through that fireproof and effervescent school that is television, while the jump to feature film continues to be very complicated, although there are recent titles such as The Vacation of Jesus and Buddha, by Noriko Takao (2013) that become the exception to the rule.
Now A Silent Voice is released and in its preparation there is an unusual triple circumstance: it is written, produced and directed by women. It is the adaptation of the Yoshitoki Oima manga that has been carried out by the prestigious writer Reiko Yoshida; is directed by Naoko Yamada, one of the most representative voices of Kyoto Animation for whom she had already worked on the hit K-ON! (2011) and in the feature film Tamako Love Story (2014); and among the founders of this young company willing to stand up to Ghibli or Madhouse, is Yoko Hachida.
This conjunction of female personalities surely has a lot to do with the delicacy with which the film approaches such a controversial and sensationalised and simplistic subject as bullying.
The film takes the point of view of a teenager, Shôya, who was a bully during his school years, something that has ended up marking him forever. Although he has learned his lesson, the weight of guilt accompanies him on a daily basis. He is unable to look his new companions in the eye (their faces are covered by an X) and has even attempted suicide. Every day he wonders why he set about systematically humiliating little Shoko Nishimiya, whose hearing impairment condemned her to become the center of teasing from her throughout her childhood.
The film manages to delve in a very precise way into the fragility of a series of characters who suffer and hurt themselves, who go through a myriad of contradictory feelings that have to do with the desperate need to fit into that miniature social system that it is after all a school classroom. A space in which the worst behaviour patterns of adults are repeated, in which social differences are already revealed and in which the law of the strongest rules.
All the characters that appear are actually victims, some of themselves, others of the misunderstanding they generate around them. They blame themselves, they torment each other and that only leads them to a spiral of reproaches, rejection and frustration.
Japanese cinema has always been especially sensitive when it comes to portraying isolation and adolescent cruelty, the feeling of vulnerability and incomprehension during this vital stage full of confusion and anger. We have seen it in such heartbreaking movies as All About Lily or Confessions. And in that sense, A silent voice is integrated into the list of great films that are capable of entering the youthful subconscious describing all its contradictions, those that take us from purity and innocence to the awakening of the worst instincts that lead to violence and submission.
"It is integrated into the list of great films that are capable of entering the youthful subconscious by describing all its contradictions, those that take us from purity and innocence to the awakening of the worst instincts"
In A Silent Voice we do not find fantastic elements as in Your Name or FireWorks. But not because the women responsible for the film do not have the capacity to invent time travel or love in different time lines, but because on this occasion they have decided to focus attention on a problem, bullying, which in some way defines the direction of our society through a worrying promotion of hatred. This does not mean that we are not facing a film that exudes visual imagination and creative power at the highest level and that also takes the trouble to move away from the parameters of naturalistic cinema to configure its own universe around it, as was also the case in the live-action films of Shunji Iwai and Tetsuya Nakashima.
A silent voice is both painful and exciting at the same time. He is able to talk about very complex issues without renouncing the controversy that they may arouse, entering the folds of the characters, preventing their behaviours from falling into Manichaeism, in a brave and sincere way. He does not feel sorry for his beings, nor does he judge them, he does not hide their contradictions and ambiguities. And most importantly, it opens up new paths for anime, moves away from conventions and faces new challenges while still being suitable for all types of audiences.
