The Kindly Lion (やさしいライオン, 1969)

Early Sunday morning, the legendary artist Takashi Yanase (やなせたかし, 1919-2013) passed away at the age of 94.  A man of diverse talents from poetry to illustration, Yanase is best known as the creator of the wildly popular animation and character franchise Anpanman.  As a tribute to Yanase I wanted to write about a lovely film he made in 1969 that has been little seen in the west: The Kindly Lion (やさしいライオン / Yasashii Raion).  

See also:  Yanase's Top 15 Animated Films from the Laputa 2003 poll.

Background

The Kindly Lion is a “musical animation” adapted from an NCB radio drama and follow-up picture book written and illustrated by Yanase.  According to the official Tezuka website, Osamu Tezuka initially planned to create an entire animated series from The Kindly Lion story for Mushi Pro, but in the end only one 27-minute film was ever completed.  The website gives the theatrical release date for the film as March 21, 1970; however, the film won the 8^th Noburo Ofuji Award for 1969 at the 24^th Mainichi Film Concours, which suggests to me that the film may have screened at festivals in 1969 before getting a theatrical release in 1970.  The Concours is usually held in February (ie.1970) honouring films that were released the previous year (ie.1969).

The Story

Yanase tells a moving story of an orphaned baby lion called Buru-buru (ブルブル) – derived from the sound word for shaking or trembling.  He gets his name from the fact that he is racked with tears at the beginning of the story because he misses his parents and feels so terribly alone.  A friendly rabbit brings Buru-buru together with a friendly dog called Muku-muku (ムクムク) who is grieving the loss of her puppy.  Although it seems an unlikely pairing, the two quickly bond with Muku-muku even nursing the needy lion cub.  Buru-buru is so convinced when he grows up that Muku-muku is his mother that he is shocked one day when he sees his reflection in a puddle and realizes that he is not a dog.

Even when Buru-buru grows into a large lion whose size dwarfs Muku-muku, the two maintain a close mother-child bond until one day when Buru-buru is taken from the zoo where they live to perform in a circus.  Although he is not treated cruelly by the circus, he misses Muku-muku dreadfully.  One night, he is overcome with a desire to see her again and bursts free from his cage.  He reunites with his dog mother, only to be shot by soldiers because of fears for public safety.  The film does not end with tragedy however, for the spirit of Buru-buru continues running up into the heavens like a shooting star.

The Art

Buru-buru’s tale is carefully crafted with a motif of him running repeating throughout the film.  The story is told not only visually, but also with a voice-over dialogue between a mother and a child in the style of a bedtime story.  There is also a chorus throughout the film that acts as both a narrator and a way of increasing the drama.  The lyrics are all written by Yanase himself with the music composed by Toshi Ishobe and arranged and performed by Naohiko Terajima and his orchestra Rhythm Chansonette + Strings.   The chorus is performed by the Bonny Jacks (ボニージャックス), a quartet who formed in 1958 and are still performing today.  The actress and singer Chiharu Kuri performs the female solos including the “Lullaby of Buru-buru”. 

In my introduction I called the film a “musical animation” because the music is an inextricable element of the film, working in harmony from beginning to end with the animation. The music was originally composed for the 1967 radio broadcast of the story, so would have been known in the minds of the animators while working on the film.  

Unlike the TV series Anpanman, which aims to entertain and has a definite production line quality about it, The Kindly Lion feels more like a labour of love.  Not only does the film demonstrate how one can love an adopted child/parent just as much as a biological one, but it also shows a love of craft by the animation artists involved in the project.  There are some truly beautiful sequences in The Kindly Lion.  Some of my favourites are the warmly coloured nursing sequence, the dynamic running through the sky over the rooftops sequence, the more roughly drawn circus sequences, and the elegiac winter scenes towards the end.  Even the end credits – a series of still pastel crayon images – are absolutely charming in their execution. 

Like many early classics of Japanese anime, I am really scratching my head about the fact that this film has never to my knowledge been officially released on DVD or for download for Western audiences.  Even in Japan the only DVDs I know of that include the film are long out of print.  With not only Yanase but Tezuka being affiliated with it, there would certainly be an audience for it online if the current copyright holders Tezuka Productions were to release it with subtitles.    

The Production Team

Executive Producer: Osamu Tezuka

Original story, direction, and art: Takashi Yanase

Production Chief: Atsushi Tomioka

Assistant: Jun Shimozaki

Planning Cooperation: Seihoku Production

Original picture and motion: Kanji Akabori, Kazuko Nakamura, Teruto Ueguchi, Akihiro Kanayama, Maya Matsuyama, Yoshiko Watanabe, Takeo Uchiumi, Hiroaki Yamamori

Background: Nobuko Ato, Kuniko Nishimura, Megumi Tanabe

Tracing: Masako Shimano

Coloring: Mariko Abe

Brushing: Tomoii Hashizume

Shooting: Akihiko Mori

Editing: Noriyoshi Matsuura

Film Developing: Toyo Developing Studio

Music: Toshi Ishobe

Lyrics: Takashi Yanase

Arranged by: Naohiko Terajima

Performed by: Naohiko Terajima and Rhythm Chansonette + Strings

Vocals: Bonny Jacks, Chiharu Kuri

Sound: Atsumi Tashiro (TAC)

Effects: Ishida Sound Group

Recording: Tokyo Studio Center

Catherine Munroe Hotes 2013

Update Sept. 2, 2025

This review belongs to my series on the Noburo Ofuji Award:

Rinco’s Restaurant (食堂かたつむり, 2010)

Freshness and simplicity are two of the defining features of traditional Japanese cooking. While in recent decades fast food may have made substantial gains in terms of popularity, there has long been a strong counter-resistance to these pressures of modernity. Rinco’s Restaurant (Shokudo Katatsumuri, 2010) is a film designed to appeal to an audience who appreciates organic slow food. In fact, a literal translation of the film title is actually “Snail Restaurant” – a name that Rinco chooses because of the slow and loving way in which she prepares her food.

Rinco (Kou Shibasaki) was born the only child of a woman named Ruriko (Kimiko Yo). Her mother has a reputation for having many boyfriends and cannot tell Rinco who her father is. At the outset of the film, we learn via Rinco’s first person narration that her grandmother has recently died leaving her only a donut and a pot of miso. Rinco loves her grandmother’s miso, and she dreams of using it one day to start her own restaurant.

She scrimps, saves, and works hard to earn the money to fulfil this dream. Along the way she falls in love with an Indian man, whose native cuisine inspires her further with dreams of the wonderful spicy dishes she could serve in her restaurant. It all comes crashing down when the man leaves her, stealing most of her possessions. The heartbreak causes Rinco to lose her voice, and she returns to her mother’s home with only her pot of grandma’s miso.

Shokudo Katatsumuri Standard Edition

Still determined to accomplish her dream, Rinco enlists the help of family friend Kuma-san (Brother Tom) who lends her money and his construction skills. Together, they transform Ruriko’s back shed into a delightful little restaurant. It soon becomes clear that Rinco is not only a talented chef, but that her lovingly made food has the power to transform people’s lives.

Mai Tominaga's film has many parallels with Mipo O’s recent film Here Comes the Bride, My Mom (2010) in that the heart of the film are not the romantic woes of the heroines but the troublesome mother-daughter relationship. The film belongs to a recent trend in food films in Japan – such as Seagull Diner (Naoko Ogigami, 2006), Nonchan Noriben (Akira Ogata, 2009), and The Chef of the South Pole (Shūichi Okita, 2009).

There is also an element of magic to the film that is reminiscent of Alfonso Arau’s popular adaptation of Laura Esquivel’s best-selling novel Like Water for Chocolate (Como agua para chocolate, 1992). The dream aspect of Rinco’s Restaurant is captured through the use of musical numbers composed by Mari Fukuhara and cutout style animation sequences which were directed by Osamu Sakai of Robot (the same studio where Oscar-winning director Kunio Katō works).

Unlike Like Water for Chocolate, this film does not seek a resolution through romantic love but through the main protagonist coming to an understanding about who she is as a person. It is a slow-moving film, with magical elements and will appeal to viewers who also appreciate the slow life. The food styling was done by Tomoko Yoshioka of Okazu Design. The food really looks delicious and I am very tempted to order the tie-in cookbook that Okazu Design has published.

Director

Mai Tominaga

Screenwriter

Hiroko Takai

Based on the novel by

Ito Ogawa

Cinematographer

Nobuyasu Kita

Animation

Osamu Sakai

Music

Mari Fukuhara

Food Stylist

Tomoko Yoshioka (Okazu Design)

Cast

Kou Shibasaki as Noriko (aka Rinko)

Kimiko Yo as Ruriko

Brother Tom as Kuma-san

© Catherine Munroe Hotes 2011

Nippon Connection 2011

White Christmas (ホワイト・クリスマス, 1954)

My Christmas holiday always includes a screening of the hit film of 1954: White Christmas. The New Yorker, the only repertory cinema (sadly demolished a few years ago) in my hometown of London, Ontario, had a screening of the film every December 23^rd. My grandmother and I made it our Christmas ritual when I was a teenager.

Although I do embrace digital technology, home viewing will never replace the magic of the shared cinematic experience. Every year, that aging cinema with its uncomfortable, squeaky seats would be filled with small groups of people full of holiday cheer who would laugh at all the jokes they’d heard a dozen times before and sing along with every toe-tapping Irving Berlin tune. During the spectacular finale when the women wear those fabulous red gowns next to the giant Christmas tree and the doors open in the rear to reveal ‘real’ studio snow falling, everyone in the cinema would put their arms around those sitting next to them and sing “White Christmas” along with Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney & Vera-Ellen.

The first year my grandmother and I went was the most magical. As we left the cinema, we discovered that it had truly begun snowing for us as well. Huge, fluffy wet flakes that covered the ground in a thick blanket.We drove home cautiously down the unplowed streets singing all the way.

I now live far from Canada and my grandmother has passed away, but I make it my ritual to watch White Christmas with people that I love every year. Sure, it has a hokey plot, but the jokes never get stale. Such as when Phil Davis (Kaye) pesters Bob Wallace (Crosby) about something and Bob interjects: “When I figure out what that means, I’ll give you a withering reply.” And, I defy anyone not to laugh when Bing & Danny do the ‘Sisters’ feathered blue fan routine in semi-drag, with their pants rolled up to reveal the suspenders holding up their socks. Danny Kaye’s over-the-top performance caused the crooner’s mask to slip and it’s such a hoot to watch Bing Crosby as he loses it and convulses in genuine laughter.

This was the first film Paramount shot in VistaVision, a process designed to compete with Cinemascope.The result on the DVD transfer is stunning. The images are clear and crisp and the colours are simply gorgeous. Paramount also went out of their way to assemble a stellar cast and crew for this picture. The renowned Edith Head (won 8 Oscars out of 34 nominations!!) designed the costumes, Robert Alton (Ziegfeld Follies, Easter Parade ) does choreography and makes a cameo appearance, Loyal Griggs (Shane) wears the DOP mantel and Michael Curtiz (Casablanca, Mildred Pierce) directs.

If you watch White Christmas on TV every year then you should spring for the DVD this year. They released the DVD back in 2000 and were able to get the last surviving lead Rosemary Clooney, who passed away in 2002, to give them a 16-minute retrospective interview and a commentary track for the film. Her anecdotes about her fellow stars and Michael Curtiz are full of humour and warmth.

Many reviewers at the time criticized the commentary track because they thought that Clooney does not talk enough, but I love it. Most commentary tracks, especially those of directors and producers, make me roll my eyes because they are so self-indulgent and bragging. This off-the-cuff commentary track makes you feel like Rosemary Clooney is sitting on the sofa with you, delightedly sharing her fond recollections of the production. She doesn’t talk the whole time, but chuckles along with the good jokes and even mentions at one point how farfetched the plot is in place.

I particularly enjoyed the anecdotes that she shares about Bing Crosby. She depicts him as a hard-working man with a sense of humour and someone you could rely on as a friend through thick and thin. It’s an interesting counter-balance to one-dimensional child-beater label he acquired after his son Gary’s explosively bitter memoir.

I love Clooney’s self-deprecatory humour when she talks about the fact that Vera-Ellen couldn’t sing (she was dubbed by Trudy Stevens) and that she herself couldn’t dance. It must have been quite the ordeal because almost 50 years later you can hear her on the commentary track counting the steps out loud to herself: “… and 5, 6, 7, 8!”. Hilarious! It brought back memories of ballet classes I took when I was a girl.

So this Christmas, put a fire in the fireplace, cuddle up with someone you love on the sofa with a cup of warm eggnog and sing and be merry with Rosemary, Bing & the gang!

© cmmhotes 2006

Holiday Inn (スイング・ホテル, 1942)

I picked this up on a whim at the video store even though most classic Hollywood films on DVD in Japanese rental shops are pretty bad pan & scan versions. In fact, they have often been put together so cheaply that you can’t remove the Japanese subtitles. This film is an old guilty pleasure of mine, despite some of the more disturbing scenes such as Louise Beavers being typecast as Mamie, and Bing doing a black-faced Lincoln routine.

The film was directed by musical veteran Mark Sandrich, who helmed at least half of the Ginger Rogers/Fred Astaire films including The Gay Divorcee (1931), Top Hat (1935), Follow the Fleet (1936), Shall We Dance (1937), and Carefree (1938). It features Irving Berlin’s songs and it is famous for debuting the song ‘White Christmas’. The plot consists of typical nonsensical musical fare: Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire star as Jim Hardy and Ted Hanover. Along with Lila Dixon (Marjorie Reynolds), they form a song and dance team whose running gag (on- and off-stage) is that Jim can sing but he can’t dance and Ted can dance but he can’t sing and Lila has trouble deciding which man she loves more. To swallow this rivalry you of course have to forget that Fred Astaire was actually a terrific singer. Some of my favourite renditions of Gershwin tunes were done by him (Imagining that Bing can’t dance is a pretty easy feat though). The Jim/Ted (Bing/Fred) rivalry is captured eloquently by the number “I’ll Capture Your Heart” in which each man claims that he will be successful in love because of his talents. In the end, Lila chooses Ted, and Jim sets off, tail between his legs to live as a bachelor farmer in Connecticut. He then comes up with the brilliant, if unlikely, plan to turn the farm into an inn that is open only on national holidays (hence the title).

But this is a musical, and no one cares about logistics in a musical. Jim ends up hiring aspiring actress and singer Linda Mason (played beautifully by the under-rated Marjorie Reynolds, who apart from this film is only remembered for her role on the 1950s television series ‘Life of Riley’) whom he of course falls in love with and steadily wins over with his swoon-some crooning (it is Bing Crosby after all). Ted turns up drunk on Christmas Eve because Lila has ditched him for a Texas millionaire and proceeds to dance a spectacular number with Linda. Hollywood legend has it that Fred Astaire really did get drunk on bourbon for this number. The crowd at the Inn is wowed but Ted was so drunk he doesn’t remember what the girl looked like (and Jim’s not about to help him for fear of losing Linda). Ted’s manager Danny Reed, played by the talented character actor Walter Abel, came to the party late and only saw what the young woman looked like from behind. This sets up a great gag for the New Year’s party at the Inn where Ted dances with girls while Danny checks them out from behind and they get themselves in a whole passel full of trouble including this amusing exchange:

Man: “Say, what is this? A Daisy Chain?”
Ted: “We’re just looking for the back of a girl we don’t know.”

In spite of a few flubs along the way, including the aforementioned racism which was sadly par for the course in films of this era as well as pretty dire musical numbers for Lincoln’s birthday (poor Lousie Beavers had to sing the cringe-worthy line: “Who was it set the darkie free? Abraham!”) and Washington’s birthday (which will in all honestly leave you squirming in your seat), the film is a fun viewing overall. I love the numbers “Be Careful, It’s My Heart” (despite a few obviously bad lines like “it’s not a watch you’re wearing it’s my heart” WTF??? it is accompanied by a beautiful dance number), ‘Lazy’, my personal favourite ‘You’re Easy to Dance With’, and of course the Oscar-winning song ‘White Christmas.’ Fred Astaire’s Fourth of July number, ‘Say It with Fire Crackers’ is pretty enjoyable viewing. It’s a wonder Fred didn’t lose a leg during the filming of it though. It looks like they used real firecrackers. 

The rapport between Bing and Fred is great and it’s a shame that they didn’t make more films together.Their only other film together was another Sandburg film, Blue Skies (1946), which was pretty forgettable apart from the title song and Fred performing ‘Putting on the Ritz.’ It’s not particularly surprising that Bing and Fred didn’t make more films together though as this film is the first time since Roberta (1935) that Fred has had to take second billing (and in that case it was to a woman – the lovely Irene Dunne). I have read that Fred Astaire was offered the Danny Kaye part in White Christmas (1954) but that he turned it down. A wise decision, as I don’t think that role would have suited Astaire. On the topic of White Christmas, I must mention that I have always thought that they recycled the sets from Holiday Inn when they made White Christmas, even though it was made 12 years later because the similarities are striking. Someone on the Internet Movie Database seems to agree with me, I really must look it up in a more reliable source at some point as this is a point that bothers me everytime I watch those two movies.

This film is fun viewing not just for the musical numbers but because of the snappy dialogue and terrific gags.  Some of my favourite lines include:

Lila breaking off her engagement to Jim: 
“It isn’t that I don’t love you, Jim, I do. I love everybody!”

Jim: “You in show business?”
Linda: “I’m Linda Mason.” (she’s pretending she’s a celebrity)
Jim: “Oh….. Linda Mason.” (he’s pretending to recognize the name)

Apart from the condescending portrayal of African Americans in this film, the only other thing I would have changed as a director would have been to give the two leading ladies more chances to shine. It might have been just the thing to turn Marjorie Reynolds and Virginia Dale into stars instead of supporting players.Fortunately that mistake was remedied in White Christmas, but I’ll save singing the praises of Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen until December.

And yes, if you’re wondering, the Holiday Inn chain in North America did name itself after this popular movie.

[if you click on the title of this blog you will be linked to Alan Vanneman’s article “Too Much Bing, Not Enough Fred” at Bright Lights Film and from whom I have borrowed the images for this blog entry. I enjoyed the article, though I must respond that one can never have too much Bing or Fred.]

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (掠奪された七人の花嫁, 1954)

Finally got round to seeing this classic Stanley Donen musical for the first time because of it's title -- I've been watching so many films involving the number seven this month, the kanji 七人 jumped out at me from the shelf of the video store. I do love musicals, but the premise of this one causes so many groans throughout viewing. The songs are catchy, but lyrics like "Bless your beautiful hide" (sung while on the prowl for a wife) would have been simply unbearable if it hadn’t been for Howard Keel’s wonderful, deep singing voice. It is a shame that MGM didn’t do more to promote his talent in the 1950s. Sexism aside, the dance numbers in this film are worth the price of rental alone. The acrobatics of the seven brothers during the barn raising sequences are truly inspired. I was amused by the decision to have all the brothers redheads and wearing brightly-coloured shirts in order to distinguish them from the grey suits of the townsmen. Even young men being dragged along to the cinema by their dates would enjoy the ridiculous amount of fight scenes. These would have been hard to bear if they hadn’t been staged in a comic way.

The only real disappointment was the obvious fakeness of the settings. I have since read that Stanley Donen was also disappointed not to have the budget to film on location. MGM was pouring all its money into 1954’s other big musical, Brigadoon, starring Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse. I guess with the success of Singing in the Rain they decided to place their bets with Kelly’s star power combined with the power of Charisse’s $5 million legs. It’s too bad they didn’t credit give the director of Singing in the Rain as much credit as it’s stars, because Seven Brides is an infinitely more enjoyable picture than boring Brigadoon.

©cmmhotes