Rating: B
Dir: Takehide Hori
If my math is right, this stop-motion feature contains over 140,000 individual shots. Which would be impressive for a studio production, by a company like Laika. Instead, this was largely a one-man operation, as the end credits make clear. Hori worked on just about every element: writing, through puppet sculpture, to soundtrack composition and voice acting. He had no previous experience, not setting sail on the ocean of filmmaking until he was already almost forty, and learning how to do everything necessary online. Initially an interior decorator, this side-project eventually became an all-consuming passion. From starting work on the short version, to the final release of the feature edition, took over seven years. It’s an extraordinary feat of dedication and persistence.
Imagination, too. Events unfold in a future city, across many levels, where humans are immortal but sterile. The titular protagonist descends into the lower depths, but is reduced to his component parts, only to be resurrected and given a new body by a kindly scientist (in an echo of Alita: Battle Angel). However, that is only the start of an extended adventure through the endless corridors and chasms. The perils he faces include a slew of monsters in all shapes and sizes, such as giant, predatory worms (top), or things which crawl along the ceiling, before descending to bite their prey clean in half. Yet, considering the generally dystopian nature of… [/gestures vaguely at everything here], it has a surprising amount of laughs.
Deliberate ones, I should stress. In particular, the scientist who rebuilds Junk Head has three minions, who go out foraging for him. One is convinced that Mr. Head is of divine origin, presumably because he fell from heaven. When they’re out again, and the rebuilt Junk gets eaten by one of the worms, he wails, “God is dead!”. Then, when Junk is spat out, his largely metallic body not being to the predator’s tastes: “He is risen!” Ok, perhaps you had to be there. But the tone in general is considerably lighter than I expected from the synopsis. I also found I had to keep reminding myself of the film’s origins, because I kept forgetting it is stop-motion – the behind-the-scenes footage under the end credits will remind you of the work involved.
It does feel as though Hori sometimes falls a little bit too much in love with the medium. Things seem to happen, just because it feels they can, rather than they necessarily should for the story. I was largely lost in regard to the relationship between the various underground factions, and there were flashbacks to Junk’s life up above, that didn’t serve much purpose (much though I like the idea of plug-and-play hair!). But there is still an awful lot to admire here, and not just visually. For example, the dialogue is in no recognizable language, but the grunts and squawks still manage to convey meaning, often to the point subtitles are superfluous. More features are planned: I hope both the maker and I live long enough to see them to completion.