Paul Clark Meets the White Elephant

Yesterday I interviewed Benjamin Lim, host of the Second Annual White Elephant Blogathon, who kindly explained the idea behind his crazy little brainchild. In light of his explanation, I'm sure you'll understand why I was a little confused about six weeks ago when I received my assignment, Seijun Suzuki's Princess Raccoon. After all, this didn't quite seem to fit: Suzuki is something of a cult icon among Asian cinema fans, and Princess Raccoon received mostly positive notices. Truth be told, I almost thought Ben was playing an early April Fool's prank on me with the intention of pulling a bait-and-switch the next day. You know, the old "wait, did I say Princess Raccoon? I meant In the Army Now" gag.

Then I saw the movie.

Don't get me wrong, Princess Raccoon is by no means a bad movie. Truth be told, I enjoyed the hell out of it. However, it's easy to see why someone would in all seriousness believe this was White Elephant material. Not only is it a textbook love/hate movie, but it's a pain in the ass to review. I originally had a suspicion that it was submitted by my friend, fellow Blogathoner, and avowed Princess Raccoon fan Steven Carlson as an attempt to share the love, but he dispelled this notion. So whoever the wiseguy is who submitted Princess Raccoon, thanks, and feel free to out yourself in the comments if you wish.

As I said, this isn't going to be easy. But I'll forge onward. For a Suzuki film, Princess Raccoon tells a fairly straightforward story- a king banishes his son for being more beautiful than he is, after which the son is rescued by the legendary Princess Raccoon (Zhang Ziyi), and the pair fall in love, although not without complications. So it's basically Snow White in reverse. But that doesn't begin to approximate the magical weirdness of this thing. Suzuki's style is heavily influenced by Kabuki theatre, and he tosses in a number of catchy songs for good measure.

Now, I know what you're thinking- "what, another Kabuki fairy tale musical?" All joking aside, it's Suzuki's style that really makes Princess Raccoon infectious. As with his last film, Pistol Opera, Suzuki makes no concessions to photo-realism, often placing his actors on stage-y sets or CGI backdrops. But the difference between Princess Raccoon and its predecessor is its irresistible sense of fun. True to Suzuki's rep, there are some priceless moments in the film, most of which I wouldn't dream of giving away.

All right, maybe one. Early in the film there's a scene in which the prince (played by Jo Odagiri) and the Princess Raccoon are rowing a boat, and they hit some (animated) rapids. Suddenly the boat begins to spin, and Zhang and Odagiri start throwing themselves wildly around like the Star Trek crew whenever the Enterprise suffers a direct hit. I mention this scene because it's exactly the kind of make-or-break moment that might cause some of the less fanciful viewers out there to tune out, and I figured I would warn you in advance. But for those of you who are on Suzuki's wavelength, there's much more where that came from.

Princess Raccoon has a few problems- for example, Suzuki's sense of pacing takes some (okay, a lot of) getting used to- but they fade away compared to the enormous grin the film left on my face. It's the sort of movie I think I would've enjoyed when I was a kid, full of singing and dancing, colorful flights of fancy, and awesome lines like, "please die in peace to become delicious raccoon soup!" I'm sure there are a few stabs at serious subtext in the film (e.g. pitting the Christian king against the pagan raccoon people), but this is mostly one heck of an infectious romp. The film opens with the line, "no raccoon should ever love a human. Even less should a raccoon ever love a man. But this is the thirteenth moon