Hisayuki Toriumi
Born in Yokohama in 1941. Graduated from Chuo University. After working at Tatsunoko Production, he joined Studio Pierrot. Notable works of his include Science Ninja Team Gatchaman, The Wonderful Adventures of Nils, The Mysterious Cities of Gold, Dallos, Area 88, and Lily C.A.T., among others.
Q: First of all, can you tell us about your first impression of the original work?
Toriumi: I was shocked. To be honest, it was quite a surprise. I don't usually read violent comics regardless, but I was still surprised to see how far comics have come nowadays. I was also impressed by the outrageous things young people think up nowadays. They really have flipped common sense on its head. For example, the scythe coming out of Baoh's arm was something we used to have to do with props in the past. He fights by transforming his body itself into that kind of weapon. That was wild to me.
Q: As you marveled at those new ideas, was there any doubt in your mind as to whether you could get away with visualizing those extreme depictions of violence in the film?
Toriumi: That's my biggest concern. There was a lot of discussion around the topic at first, but we couldn't come up with a clear answer, and in the end we decided to go with whatever was within the scope of the original work. Even then, when you watch the animation on the screen, it somehow lacks that sense of unpleasantness we aimed to recreate. It's simply impossible to recreate the texture of it. However grotesque you draw them, the images look beautiful once cel-shaded. So no matter how much blood is splattered, I don't feel the slightest bit uncomfortable watching it. The mutilation scenes are disgusting, but it doesn't carry the same shock value as, say, The Fly. On the contrary, I thought that if those kinds of scenes accumulated and were made more dynamic than unpleasant, the sadness of the protagonist, who has been altered without his permission and is no longer a regular human being, would rise to the surface. He loses his speech when he transforms into Baoh, so it was necessary to have him express it with his entire body. The other characters in this film really don't have many lines either, though.
Q: It's not just the dialogue; the cast of characters is also rather sparse.
Toriumi: Normally, the story is told through dialogue, but in Baoh the story is told through movement. Ultimately, it attempts to express the contrast between the intensity, the subtlety, and the loneliness of the action through both stillness and movement.
Q: What were you particularly attentive toward when supervising the film?
Toriumi: When I storyboarded the film, though it was very difficult, I made sure to only include one action per cut. Previously, there were cases where we would put 10 to 20 movements in a single cut, and sometimes they could take up a long stretch of time. Naturally, the cuts are shorter, but it's still a lot of work overall. Faces are melted, arms are cut off, et cetera, but it doesn't really matter how shocking they are in the drawing stages, so I left it up to the director. I wonder how difficult it'd be to keep doing things that way again and again.
Q: I was shown the storyboards earlier, and you gave very detailed instructions as to how to handle firearms and depict cartridges popping out, and so on; for example, "don't use repeats for this shot," and so on. Is that because you wanted to maximize the grade of each movement?
Toriumi: It's difficult to accurately convey my intentions to others. The parts I want to be done in one way are ignored, and the parts I don't want to be done in another way are persistently done that way. So I just gave them instructions on what I wanted them to do. Realism is expressed in the subtlest of ways. Just the characters being realistic doesn't make the whole thing realistic, right? Realism is felt through the smallest details of the work.
Q: Were there any particular aspects of the work itself, like the drawing or recording, that you paid particular attention to this time around?
Toriumi: Regarding filming techniques, each studio has their own restrictions, so we can't give too many unreasonable orders. As for the audio, we had a meeting the other day about Baoh's "barubaru" cry. That howl is a sound that can be transmitted through either the vocal cords of an animal or a human being, so we decided to make the most of it. It is the bark of a monster, but unlike the howl of a dog, which sounds like "wooooooo," it has to be a "barubarubaru." It's rather like the sound of a motorcycle's exhaust pipe. I don't want it to be a mechanical sound, but rather a voice coming from a human throat. I want the bark to express emotion. It has to vary based on that, whether Baoh is grieving, furious, or defensive. I believe that Baoh's howl will make or break this work.
Q: What is the one thing you wanted kept in mind above all else in Baoh?
Toriumi: It's just a matter of screen composition, but I asked them not to use the common practice of dividing the screen into three or four screens via masking. If you were to ask me why, I would say that there's just no need to go to the trouble of dividing the screen into smaller pieces. A movie's coherence comes from following the images within a frame, and dividing a picture into two parts, one on the right and the other on the left, should only be used when it is found to be the most effective. It's not something you can do just for fun. So I want it to be realistic and vivid. The other thing is that, if I have captured a close-up of Baoh's face from a frontal view, I don't want it to be changed without my permission just because it would look cooler as a low-angle shot. Of course, if it were a single picture, it would be cooler to draw the face from below rather than from the front. But that would ruin the interactions between each cut. For example, when two people are talking together, like we're doing now, there's no need to use low-angle shots at all. And that's what I'm concerned about. Since Baoh is an action movie, it's tempting to try and make every picture as cool as possible while ignoring the flow of the story. I tried to keep that in check as much as possible to create an atmosphere that emerges from the screen.
Q: In the opening scene, the way Sumire escapes from her room and Sophine chases after her is depicted gives off the impression of a suspense film from the 1960s.
Toriumi: Yes, that's right. Since Baoh is a bloody world, I felt that I could bring out a bit of romanticism in the way the suspense builds there.
Q: I'd like to ask what your favorite scene in the entire film is.
Toriumi: Hmm. Well, I like to build up suspense with a quiet mood. The scene that I was most careful about in the storyboarding stage was the one where Sumire and Ikuro are attacked in an abandoned building. Ikuro doesn't even know what he looks like as he fights there. The part I'd like to see handled with the most care is the part where he sees his reflection in the mirror.
Q: Conversely, is there anything you think should have been handled a little better?
Toriumi: I was most concerned about Nozzo. I think Mr. Hirohiko Araki, the author of the original story, was planning to use her for something, but in the end he simply couldn't use her effectively enough. She's a fictional animal, so to have her appear means he must've been planning to use her to progress the story somehow. It really is a shame.
Q: Did you gain anything new from working on Baoh?
Toriumi: Yes. I enjoyed getting to know the animators and other new members that I had never met before. When I saw the finished film, I discovered new things about it that I didn't even know were possible.
Q: What theme did you want to convey in Baoh?
Toriumi: It's not a particularly grandiose theme, but there are times when people cannot convey their true intent to others. Even if there's no malicious intent involved, our inability to convey our intentions causes us to be misunderstood and judged as such. When Ikuro transforms into Baoh, he is unable to communicate with others, and no one understands that he is still Ikuro. The question is why Baoh still fights for others, lonely as he is. I think it's interesting that he isn't simply heroic with a sense of justice.
Q: Is there any policy that you keep in mind when creating your films?
Toriumi: It's a simple one. I try to convey to the viewer the entire world that I bring forth. The most important thing is to not make any typos. There are people who say that if you try to make your films too easy to understand, they become boring. But I think it's important not to just tell a story where people will think, "Ah, so that's the message of their filmography." In order to convey the message of the work via the story, I must emphasize the importance of grammar. We use Japanese grammar to enhance the Japanese language, and the same can be said of film.
Q: Do you hope to continue making films like this in the future?
Toriumi: Well, I still haven't decided what kind of film I'm best suited for. It just so happens that I started out in the action genre, and since I do those so well, people tend to assume they're my specialty. I wanted to do something fairy tale-like, but the opportunity never presented itself. Things had been that way for over a decade, so it was fun when I started working at Pierrot. I thought it would be fun to look at things through the eyes of a child. In the end, both action and fairy tale works are enjoyable in their own way, but I don't think animation is limited to simply the realm of entertainment. When I watch When the Wind Blows, for example, I think to myself that this is the kind of work we really need to be creating. That's something our generation is a bit particular about, so in a sense, it's a very Japanese reflection to make. When the Wind Blows was an exception, but when we first entered the world of animation, we were ridiculed for it, since animation was just something for children to watch. But if children are watching it, their parents must be watching it, too, so we came together as an organization to create works that the parents wouldn't scoff at. We wanted to create films that could be watched by both children and adults. It's a bit extravagant, saying it out loud, but that's the kind of film I'd like to make.
Q: Finally, do you have a message for the fans out there?
Toriumi: Considering the current social climate, a work like this has phenomenally bad timing (laughs). So I want the audience to grasp not just the superficial action, but also the heart of Ikuro deeper within. The action is just decoration, so can you try and look at the core of it? We are creating this work here around being able to understand that. I don't know if we're living through a yōkai boom or not, but I would like the meaning behind the existence of yōkai to become more apparent. If it properly depicts a sense of human psychology and the value of existence, the meaning behind these monsters and yōkai existing, appearing where they do, then I think Baoh will turn out just fine. It shouldn't be just about slaughter or shock value. I hope that the audience for this film won't be caught up in the violence on the surface, but will instead sense the message of the filmmakers beneath all the violence.
