‘Inu-Oh’ Review: An ethereal piece of mental melodic delight
The world of anime has grown in popularity in recent decades, with the Japanese artform proving alluring for its daring creativity, especially in comparison to its western counterparts. Strange, vibrant, innovative and intellectually challenging, the very best contemporary anime flicks put the conventional world of animation to shame, with the revolutionary filmmaker Masaaki Yuasa standing at the very forefront of the craft.
Making an impact on several touchstones of modern animation, including working on the opening sequence of the celebrated 2010 anime Welcome to the Space Show and the Cartoon Network show Adventure Time, proof of Yuasa’s talent can be seen in his debut feature film Mind Game. Released in 2004, Yuasa wild animated ride should be considered among the most psychedelic movies ever made, telling the story of reincarnation in modern-day Japan.
His brand new animation, Inu-oh, is his first feature film since the 2019 drama Ride Your Wave and reinstates the director’s prowess in the anime industry, delivering a delightfully bizarre musical tale that spans centuries.
Premiering at the Venice Film Festival last year, it’s with relief that we’re seeing Inu-Oh finally screened in UK cinemas, especially as the story, based on the novel Tales of the Heike: Inu-Oh by Hideo Furukawa, is such a luscious cinematic banquet. The film tells the story of a cursed dancer with a monstrous face and a mighty extendable arm and a blind musician with a talent for the biwa, who both team up for electrifying concerts across the region.
Delivering vibrant sequences of wild colour and freneticism, Yuasa brings the creative flair of Mind Game to the fold with his highly enjoyable rock opera that screws up the history book and rewrites it with power ballads and electric guitar solos. With jaw-dropping sequences of compelling cabaret, Inu-Oh is at its strongest when it falls into the possession of its lead musical duo, allowing the thrill of the concert to create a swirling showcase of bliss.
It enjoys these moments so much that it treats any downtime as a wasted scene, with the story’s climax feeling a little unfulfilling due to a lack of personal connection with the two leads. Whilst Tomona (Mirai Moriyama), the blind musician, benefits from a prologue of sorts, the dancer, Inu-Oh (Avu-chan), isn’t given quite the same amount of space to grow, and as a result, we don’t carry the same level of affection towards him.
Clocking in at just over 90 minutes, Yuasa crams a vast amount into this humble runtime, with a through-line concerning unsettled spirits underlining proceedings. Supposedly, this carries much of the film’s core message, but it would require a rewatch to keep up with what is going on, why, and how.
Though, in a strange way, this is part of the film’s allure. Once the credits roll and the film is given time to mull over in your mind, it takes on the form of an ethereal music concert that washes over you like a wave of mental melodic delight.
