REVIEW: MIDORI - SHÔJO TSUBAKI (1992, Hiroshi Harada

 

After her mother’s untimely death, the orphan girl Midori seeks refuge with a gang of deformed circus freaks. Her everyday life in the circus turns out to be a living hell: the abandoned girl has to do the dirty work for the sideshow attractions, who humiliate, strike and sexually abuse her. As a midget magician enters the group and falls in love with young Midori, the circumstances rapidly change for the better. However, new trouble is already brewing and Midori’s peaceful life is at peril.

“Midori – Shôjo Tsubaki” is adapted from “Mr Arashi’s Amazing Freak Show”, a manga comic by prolific illustrator Suehiro Maruo. Maruo, who has also created similar manga, such as “Ultra-Gash Inferno” and “The Laughing Vampire”, is seen as one of the most famous artists in the field of “Ero Guro”. This Japanese art style is known for its drastic depiction of decadent conduct, eroticism (oftentimes bordering on the pornographic), violence and (sexual) sadism. There is no doubt that Maruo’s art incorporates all of these aspects: his manga is gory, some would say downright perverted and highly surreal and expressionistic in its approach. Especially the latter defines his work and distinguishes it from the majority of dull hentai manga. When it comes to these qualities, “Mr. Arashi’s Amazing Freak Show” is certainly no exception, many fans even see it as the highlight of Maruo’s flawless bibliography. And yes, all of Maruo’s trademark ingredients are there and harmonize with each other perfectly, therefore it comes to no surprise that Hiroshi Harada chose to make a film out of it. Haranda underwent this painstaking procedure virtually on his own and all of the funds came out of his own pocket. One thing can be said for sure: the final result is very unorthodox and even encountered some troubles with censorship in its homeland Japan, which is usually known for allowing all kinds of atrocious films. But is his adaption worthy of the manga?

The story of young Midori is certainly a gruesome one. At the beginning of the film, she is introduced as a virtuous, poor girl who is forced to walk the streets selling flowers in order to be able to pay for a school trip. After having arrived back home, she notices that her mother has died and rats have already started eating her. Her stay with the circus people starts only a few moments later. From the first moment on, the film makes it abundantly clear that Midori is a tragic heroine, whose suffering will go on throughout the whole film. She assumes a kind of Cinderella-esque position, in which she is constantly exploited, beaten and abused sexually by the sideshow freaks, who are the exact opposite of the kind-hearted and beautiful girl. They are mean, violently sadistic and perverted. Maruo seems to have put a lot of thought into the character designs. The snake woman, the “worm”, the freak with the crooked limbs as well as the amputee, their designs are all extremely interesting and their appearance is literally obnoxious. The contrast is visible in every second: one very powerful scene, in which Midori is forced to wash the worm and the crooked freak, lets the audience relive her disgust in every possible way.

Furthermore, Midori gets stripped, whipped, kicked and struck on various occasions. The image of the whip-wielding circus director is a perfect example for the manner in which violence and despotism are combined in “Midori”. The idea of the victimized, righteous heroine is certainly one that has been used in various films, literature etc (for example Sade’s “Justine”), but within this context it shines in new splendour. This is not only due to the subtle hints at fascist imagery found in the scenes depicting abuse and humiliation, but also because of the constant back and forth between vile, disgusting scenes and highly aesthetic ones. Especially the combination of sex and violence plays a plays a huge role when it comes to the effect this film has. The ménage-à-trois between the amputee, the muscular man and the snake woman, the licking of a young girls eyeball during sex and the amputated villain raping Midori, all these scenes are terribly gruesome but somehow still magnificent at the same time. However, the “pure” violence shown in some scenes, for example the slaughtering of puppies or asphyxiation with dirt, are still pretty direct and hard.

“Midori”’s visuals owe much to the expressionist art of the 1920s. The circus, as well as some camera angles and landscapes, are reminiscent of “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari”, the circus people made me recall “Todd Browning’s ‘Freaks’”. Although the whole film is accompanied by a touch of macabre luridness, there are still scenes which are nothing short of gorgeous. The entanglement between our heroine and the midget is told in picturesque, almost fantasy-like imagery. Our couple walks through moonlit alleys and marvelous snowstorms, accompanied by romantic music. Another scene shows Midori walking through enormous drapes and into flickering black and white recordings out of her own memory. “Midori” has a hell of a lot to offer besides sleaze and gore. Be that as it may, an aura of sickness is always to be found and in its presence, beauty and ugliness become one and form an impressive work of art, which entices and disgusts you at the same time. This ambivalence gives birth to some awesome parts. One of the most spectacular scenes shows the magician wreaking havoc on a crowd of people, making their faces split up in two, exploding their bellies, ripping out their extremities and so on. There is only one word to describe all of this: phenomenal.

When talking about stylistic devices, there are many features worth mentioning. Oftentimes, director Harada will only show still images in which only the mouths move (sometimes not even that). Therefore, the animation in some parts can’t be seen as too well, but this gives Maruo’s perfectly constructed pictures the chance to unfold their power to their full extent. Furthermore, many actions are depicted in a bizarre and completely surreal way: for example, Midori’s rape is staged using a frozen image drenched in red, which only shows her contorted face buried under  the amputees swirling bandages, whereas the freaks are introduced to the viewer by hasty, fast cut stills accompanied by loud commentary. These are the moments where the expressionist/surreal vibe proves to be truly superior and one gets the feeling that “Midori” is nothing less than a marginally animated work of art and not an anime. For the average anime fan this may be a flaw, but taking Suehiro Maruo’s manga into account, there is no doubt that this was the right decision. In contrast to this exaggerated way of portraying intense scenes, childhood memories and harmonious thoughts are shown in soft, childlike imagery. Once again, the two opposites interact beautifully.

Conclusion: “Midori” is quite special. Varying, downright brilliant when it comes to style and highly gruesome, this is a very rare, long forgotten gem. “Midori” works in other dimensions than your classic anime and can be recommended to every fan of remote art. Harada’s adaptation is rich in detail and a work of love. Each viewer has to decide, whether the manga or the anime is the better choice and whether or not they can be interchanged. However, both are strongly recommended to just about anyone.