Osamu Tezuka's second experimental short, and his first of some considerable length is a delightful bag of goodies that slowly reveals its contents the deeper you decide to dig in.
Tales of a Street Corner is an experimental animated film that describes a microcosm of a world encompassed within a street while reflecting on the most broadest of metaphysical meanings of life itself - the journey from the optimistic awe that is conceived by innocence to the nadir of nihilism wrenched out by the hidden realities. It could also be seen on a more literal level as the reflection of war - a reminiscent experience of Tezuka's own childhood being upturned by the second world war. At some moments, there were hints of a subtle criticism towards the regimentalism that pervaded Japanese society following the Meiji restoration and the rebellious struggle of art and artists.
This silent film explores the thoroughfare of a certain street in a nameless city through the tedious lives of a certain eclectic group of animals, trees and inanimate objects - primarily composed of wall posters, a spider's web and a shattered lamp post. Their merry and interactive life is upturned when the military, ominously represented by the trudging boots that repeatedly make their presence felt on the street, replace the posters with identical ones glorifying the purpose of war, swallowing everything else in its path and ultimately ending in tragic consequences for all involved.
In both "Male" and "Tales of a Street corner", Tezuka establishes a stylistic choice to embrace minimalism in his motion. The animation style often involves still but contrasting frames that linger for moments - generating music using the music as the leading coordinator. The setting of the various wall posters were perfect to employ this technique and accentuated by the vibrant pop aesthetic in the coloring.
Given how this film eschewed any veneer of mass appeal, I found it quite interesting how cinematic the movie was at points. Shifting perspectives provided the illusion of a moving camera - particularly emphasized when the posters of the two musicians fly chaotically in the flame kissed skies and the perspective constantly shifts to accompany the driving music and sound effects of the bombing.
While it was slow to begin, I found that it added more to the film than it took from the experience by the end. By focusing on a microcosm of the world - not just at the street level, but at the thematic level, a lot is left for the imagination to conjure up. We do not see the chaos being wrought in other streets because of our microscopic focus, but we can conjure up the possibilities because of the looming doom.
While not a conventional animated film, this certainly rings the bell of a masterpiece in my books.
