The tone of The Sky Crawlers is cold; it’s bitter, it’s methodical, and it’s meticulous, but in that cold reservation of character and narrative, I find more comfort and solace than I have with any other form of media. It’s incongruous and artful whilst remaining reasonable and grounded; I don’t feel an iota of pretension coming from it whatsoever. Though, unfortunately, 'pretentious' seems to be the word this film gets stigmatized with the most, despite being perhaps the most straightforward film Oshii's ever directed. There's very little Ito geo- socio- enviro-political discourse splugery going on.
See, The Sky Crawlers is interesting; it’s interesting in the way that it never divulges much information pertaining to its central narrative (play the game or read the book if you were looking for any), instead, it lets the viewer piece together relevant information subjectively, as informed by the one-of-a-kind surrealist tone. This creates a unique situation wherein the viewer must find their own meaning from where there may be nothing. I feel the film is purposely vague in that regard. So much so, that I think Oshii’s point may have been to present a life without meaning at all, just decay and stagnation, propped up by meaningless conflict. That isn’t to say the film has no meaning or thematic point whatsoever though—because it does. The usual Oshii themes are all there: the commodification of war, false peace, cynicism, existentialism, basset hounds. But what the film is great at is pushing all that to the side and letting you ruminate with the characters, soak in the setting, feel the atmosphere like a cold breeze blowing against your face, and reason your own interpretations informed by those aspects.
Right down to the composition, this movie is fascinating. Oshii throws the three-act structure out of the window, favouring a more non-linear, cyclical approach to the narrative flow, leaving normally climactic, emotional moments for the middle of the film rather than the end. Thus, complementing the aforementioned dry and cold pacing he seems to revel in, all of which is further complemented to perfection by Kenji Kawai's most hands-off compositions to date. Out with the blood-pumping, 80s synth anthems of Patlabor and the experimental, theistic insanity of GITS, and in with the drifty, sporadic, lilting, calm, contradictory explosivity of TSC.
Visually, this movie is more than unique. It's a near-perfect marriage of CGI and cel animation. A fully realized product of I.G’s DGA style that they’d been perfecting since the mid-’90s. So, in addition to the breathtaking fidelity of this film, bringing onboard someone like Tetsuya Nishio to provide character designs was ingenious. His reinterpretation of Tsuruta’s designs brings a whole new dimension to their portrayal. Nishio imbues the characters with subtle idiosyncrasies most films would skip over: like oddly specific levels of pupil dilation and realistic body fat. Their designs truly make this film one-of-a-kind, and just looking at their faces gives you a sense of the often duplicitous ambience Oshii is trying to convey in any given scene. They’re simple and grounded—which are, surprisingly, qualities arthouse films often forget to incorporate—however not so simple that they lack depth. I.G brings the characters—and by extension, the film—to life thanks to the highly animated attention to detail the studio prides itself on, like a specific way in which a character lights a cigarette or folds a newspaper.
The way I interoperate this film is imparted mostly from its characters. I see this movie as a story about trying to find a direction, a reason, a meaning to your life. It’s a concept that connects with me so much because of the stage of my life I’m at now. A stage where I’m having to move forward and solidify my future, but without a cause, I ultimately feel directionless. So watching this film just puts all my feelings into words perfectly. The Killdren live in a world where they don’t have a reason, not one to fight, nor one to live. At the end of the film, Yuichi finds his: protecting the one he loves. Kusanagi, on the other hand, spends the whole film lamenting the maternal position she’s put herself in, ultimately coming to terms with the fact she must live for the child she has brought into this world. Yuichi and Kusanagi found their reasons and came to terms with their lives. But that begs the question, when am I going to find that something to die for, so I can make it beautiful to live. *Bam* *Mic-drop*. What'ya make of that?
