Wednesday, January 4, 2017

“Wolf Children” & Visual Storytelling: An Extended Review

A quick note: this is the first entry in an extended review of  the film,“Wolf Children,” that will be split over a number of essays.

WARNING: Spoilers ahead for “Wolf Children.”

So seriously, just go and watch “Wolf Children” with English subtitles (don’t watch the dubbed version for your first viewing)! You’ll thank me later! And you’ll probably want to call your Mom as well…


            I absolutely love Mamoru Hosoda’s masterpiece, the 2012 anime film “Wolf Children,” for a lot of reasons. Some of those reasons are deeply personal, while others are more distant and technically or aesthetically based. Today, I would like to discuss one of my more technically and aesthetically-inclined reasons for my love of this film: its masterful usage of various elements of visual storytelling to enhance the overall cinematic experience.

            At the core of this section of the extended review are the concepts of composition and editing, what is or isn’t in the shot and how shots are connected respectively, and just how those concepts are used to great effect in creating the visually stunning world and story that is “Wolf Children.” I'll be asking what the question of the scene is, or what the director wants to convey with his composition and editing, and analyzing a few specific scenes for what and how they use these concepts to answer that very same question. 


Question: How does one show character choice?

            Here’s a simple, elegant, and extremely effective way: have the character look left or right for each option, respectively. One can see this in a lot of films, “Pulp Fiction” for example, and it’s a pretty cool tool for filmmakers and foundation for good visual storytelling (“Snowpiercer – Left or Right”). But there is something else one can do to create a powerful piece of character choice visually: make the choices, framing, or actions funny. Essentially, make the shots and editing funny and one can get their point across far more effectively.

            Hosoda uses these two ideas to create a very fun and empathetic scene in the film. In this particular scene, Hana is confronted with choosing where and who to take a sick Yuki to; a vet’s office for a veterinarian that specializes in Yuki’s wolf side, or clinic for a pediatrician that specializes in Yuki’s human side?



            Notice what we see Hana do immediately and how the lens is orientated, she runs straight towards the camera and she looks left and right relative to the lens. We immediately know that she has two choices from both the framing and “left or right” screen direction used.


            We then see what her options are: a doctor’s clinic and a vet’s office. Hosoda will reinforce that these are her choices by having the camera move from one “choice” to another without any cuts, from a first-person perspective, and with some natural human eye motion-blur effects. He pulls us into Hana’s choice and decision-making process by making us feel like we’re with, or perhaps, are her.  


Next, we pull out of Hana’s perspective and are positioned straight behind with a clear left right divide being created, with Hana in the middle of course. She tentatively moves towards each “choice,” but she hesitates each time and looks towards the other “choice” in each instance. She has only two options, the framing and camera placement exacerbates that for us, and we can see that she really doesn’t know which one to choose due to multiple instances of her hesitation. Shots like these get their humor, comedic, and empathetic values simply from their framing as we want to both laugh and cry at Hana and her apparent predicament (“Buster Keaton – The Art of the Gag”). You seriously can’t help but feel both amused and sad for Hana and her situation because of this shot’s stellar composition.


We then see Hana talking on the phone, though it is never stated who she is talking to. The audience is able to infer what “choice” she is debating and when through these shots’ framing. She is seen sitting below a pay phone, looking left, and with her body obscuring, but not blocking out, the view of the doctor’s clinic sign. She is then seen looking ever so slightly to the right with the vet’s office sign clearly behind her. The first shot’s framing demonstrates a fundamental disconnect between the doctor’s office and Hana. In short, we intuitively know the doctors were of no help.


Ultimately, it is the vet’s advice and Yuki’s statement that she’s hungry that resolves the dilemma, and we see this through the slow switching of subjects in the shots to just Hana and Yuki and the fact that she is no longer looking towards her options, instead she looks back to where she came from and away from where the “choices” were located. We then see that there were three options, and only in the end do we and Hana realize that.


In framing these shots to create a visual of “left right” for Hana’s choice, Hosoda is able to fashion brilliantly comedic and empathetic scene where we, as the audience, can really get a feel for the process of decision-making that she has to go through on pretty much a daily basis. In one quick scene, we instantly feel for the Hana and the situation she is in. Nothing is easy for Hana or her kids, even going to the doctor, so we see and get a burdened feeling from Hana’s options and situations, all the while it being wrapped perfectly in a visually funny scene (“For Your Reconsideration: ‘Wolf Children’”). Now that is some good and compelling visual storytelling if you ask me!


Question: How does one show a character’s dread that arises from their entrapment in a situation?

Here’s one fairly common, but almost invisible, way: trap the character in a tight or constricting frame. The Coen Brothers and their main cinematographer, Roger Deakins, use this concept to great effect in their films because their stories are commonly about people, and the audience, getting the feeling that they’re trapped by various situations (“Joel & Ethan Coen – Shot | Reverse Shot”). This is an excellent way to show a character’s feeling of entrapment, but there is also a way to frame the object of that entrapment as well to create an even more powerful sense of dread and fear. Therefore, a scene’s editing is just as crucial as the framing itself in order to get the desire feeling of being “trapped” across to the audience. Once again, the Coens trap their characters with slow push-ins, compressing the frame’s array of subjects until the world outside becomes all but nonexistent and we only see the character’s facial expressions and, by extension, their inner thoughts (“Joel & Ethan Coen – Shot | Reverse Shot”).

Hosoda practices the same visual ideas that the Coens and Roger Deakins use, but instead of pushing-in in just one shot and just on the character, he makes the push-in happen over a series of cuts between the two “subjects,” with one being the “trapper” and the other one being the “trappie.” This is best seen in the scene where Hana encounters another mother in the form of a seemingly lone bear.


First things first, we see Hana happily walking towards what she thinks is Ame, and we see what she sees: a silhouette that looks a lot like Ame. After the shots get closer and closer on her happy expression, we abruptly see her boot splash in a puddle and stop, and we see the other boot never hits its mark and instead fall behind the first in hesitation. It is here that we first see Hana’s distress, and we ask ourselves “what made her stop so suddenly?” Then we see what made her stop, the silhouette is actually that of a bear.


Hana begins to slowly back up, away from the bear, but she is stopped by a tree at her back. She is cornered and trapped between the tree and the bear. She has no regard for what is behind her since she just wants to leave the situation, and we see this in her refusal to mind a small sapling’s obstruction. After meeting the tree, she cowers in fear.


The bear looks up and at her with a very dead-pan and neutral, but still somewhat of a menacing, expression. Notice how the bear is looking straight at the lens from the center of the frame. The bear, and Hosoda, is making Hana, and us, the sole subject of its gaze. Hana’s, and the audience’s, focus is directed solely at the bear as well, thereby making this shot full of the dreaded feeling of being trapped that Hosoda wished to convey.


After a quick, but almost painfully long and tension-filled, burst of cuts between the bear and Hana, the bear turns away from Hana and towards its cubs. Take note of how long each cut is and what the frame is doing in this sequence. The frames get smaller, more intimate, and much closer with each cut. Eventually, we get what amounts to two close-ups on both Hana and the mother bear: the climax and the most tension-filled stretch of time in the scene. We are trapped with Hana’s gaze on the sole subject of the bear, and we are trapped with Hana by the bear’s ever more oppressive and closer gaze. The shots feel almost uncomfortably long and drawn-out, thereby making us question what is going to happen next and refocusing our eyes on the bear’s almost blank expression. Essentially, the framing and editing of this scene forces the audience to go through what Hana is going through, to feel what she feels: that is fear and dread from a feeling of entrapment.


As the bear shifts its focus to its cubs, the frames get wider and includes more subjects, there is no longer only an oppressive one. Hana’s shots also get steadily wider and greater in the number of subjects within them. This is the de-escalation of the scene, wherein all the tension that was built up is steadily waned and lost.

Hana is not suited to the mountain like Ame is, and this scene elegantly reinforces and partly illustrates that fact. Hana, and the audience, was paralyzed with fear, so we feel that we really don’t belong in this situation or in this “world” of the mountain that Ame inhabits and maintains. By simply showing how unsuited Hana is to the situation or environment, by making her, and the audience, feel trapped by it, and how little she knows about the world Ame resides in, Hosoda expertly makes the emotion realization of this film even more powerful than it already is (“For Your Reconsideration: ‘Wolf Children’”).


Question: How does one show the experience of pure, unfiltered emotion?

Here’s one way:


I’m going to be honest; this is probably one of my favorite scenes from any film, anime or otherwise. It’s definitely my favorite scene out of “Wolf Children” as well! If you need to learn how to show raw emotion, then this scene may be a master class for you (“The 20 Best Scenes of 2013”). Hosoda creates this emotionally and visually stunning scene by using composition and editing to his advantage, along with some music but we’ll get to some other time.

Okay, let’s dig in! The first shot of the scene sets the stage, wherein we see the family’s amazement at the sight of snow for the first time. They are framed by door and the icicles up top so we know what they’re reacting to without seeing it. By framing the family this way, in the visual frame created by the doorway and icicles, our eyes are instantly gravitate to the family’s faces and, as a result, their joyful and excited expressions of wonder and amazement. Remember, the focus of this whole scene is the family’s pure, unfiltered joy at the experience of snow for the first time, and this deliberate framing already keys us into that fact.


We then see what they are amazed at: a winter wonderland.


Yuki immediately jumps into the snow, and we see her contrasted with a background consisting of the snow around her. She joyfully face-plants and rolls around in the snow.


We then cut to Ame, who is again contrasted by an entirely white background and wallowing in the snow. He falls down face-first into the snow, and when he shakes the snow off his face we see a smile on his face.


Hana then joins Ame and Yuki in their experience by leaping into the snow and hugging them tightly, again surrounded by the white background. They turn around and we are subjected to three bright, smiling, and joy-filled faces, perfectly conveying the sense of joy and raw emotion that was intended for the scene.


Next, we transition to a long sequence of the family running through the snowy woods with various close-ups and profile shots showing the joyful emotions and expressions on their faces. In this sequence, we travel along with the characters and their emotions. We begin to feel like them because we are intimately following them through their joy-filled experience, and of course the absolutely rapturous score.

After a very fun and engaging transition, we then get to see Ame and Yuki “skiing” down a hill, in an open field, with the white snow, diagonal leading line, and bluebird background serving to direct our focus purely at the characters, their actions, and their reactions. This is an instance where minimal, but meaningful, compositions are used to great and lasting effect. We need only see Ame and Yuki’s raw emotions, nothing else.


Hana soon joins her children in tumbling down the hill, all with a smile on her face. Finally, we get all three family members with the same expression of joy in the same how doing the same thing.


The family stops their sledding and all individually, but ultimately in unison, let out their most happy and joyful sounds and collapse back into the snow together. We get to see and hear each one of their sounds and expressions individually, but we still get the treat of seeing them all in unison before they stop.


As the scene comes to its bittersweet end, we get individual shots of Yuki, Ame, and Hana laughing an ear-to-ear smile on their faces. There’s no need for a group shot or a particularly complex set of shots, all that is needed is to see them all laughing at the experience they just had and the resulting, almost contagious, smile.

At the very end, we see them, as a family, lying and laughing in the snow.


By both simply emphasizing the character’s emotions and their outlets in the form of their actions and expressions, and using very simple editing and transitions, Hosoda is able to perfectly articulate the feeling and emotion that both the scene is about and the characters are experiencing. To pull an idea from my film textbook, just get close and simply show the emotion of the scene because that emotion will speak for itself. Thus, this greatest take-away from this scene, at least for me, is that sometimes you just simply have to film something happening and only do things to subtly emphasize and direct your eyes to those emotions, and try to not oversell it or hype it up too much. The utter simplicity of these shots and the scene itself is one truly amazing way to show a pure, unfiltered emotion of joy (“The 20 Best Scenes of 2013”).


            After watching “Wolf Children” and his other films, I think more and more that Hosoda is masterful visual storyteller, in that his ideas and intents are conveyed almost perfectly through visual means, even without the amazing performances given by his voice actors or his insane scores (“Wolf Children (2012) – The Lateral Tracking Shot”). His films can be understood as visual stories without looking this deep into them, but that’s the whole point of what I have said here. How does one show things, almost invisibly, instead of merely and simply telling them? Take a look at this quote from Roger, “The Big D,” Deakins himself (“Composition In Storytelling”):


            That is what Mamoru Hosoda does brilliantly in all of his movies, but especially in “Wolf Children,” his compositions and edits are almost perfectly seamless and effectively convey a great deal of information to the audience without them even realizing it. His directorial choices were perfect for this film, and that fact really and truly shines in one of the reasons why I love this film. He shows us his theme of the highs and the lows of both motherhood and childhood, and he brings us intimately into that very sacred and shared experience, through those brilliant directorial choices. To me, “Wolf Children” is part of the essence of cinema and what defines filmmaking as an art form. “Wolf Children” truly is “a cinematic flower, a beautifully simple thing that grows into a breathtakingly gorgeous celebration of life as it flourishes” (50 Best Movies…).

~ Works Cited ~










If you enjoyed this analysis of various filmmaking concepts and techniques, then I highly recommend both this video on another specific shot of “Wolf Children” and the Youtube channel that posted it, “Every Frame A Painting.”


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