Sentiments are bombs in a film, sparking off infinite interpretation and complexity.
Architecture is after-wave of a film, uncovering “denied vulnerability” of the post-trauma nation.
“Oh no, there goes Tokyo… but it will be back, and it may be even better than before”, a line filled with uncertainty echoes with my understanding over Japanese post-traumatic emotion. In fact, Godzilla, one of the most famous post-war monster movies has been popular long after the war, no matter if Japan was thriving or drowning economically. At first, it was a cry for the millions of innocent deaths caused by the bombs in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but as time goes by, accompanied with ups and downs in the society, some of the grief turns into motivation, some remains and some becomes an obsession of miracle. However, it appears to me that they were mostly optimistic since it has turned into a national spirit widely accepted by international society. Other than reminding locals of the historical defeat by a mushroom cloud and merciless monster, the film empowers them by introducing the ever-reborn setting and amplifying the last-minute happiness before the city collapses. Whether is it the desperation just before a catastrophe or the complete destruction afterward, this condition gives birth to a void that allows imagination under secure horror. On the local level, the pre-catastrophic immediate united phenomenon is a depiction of utopia under Japan which was socially divided. For Asian countries, the ability to beat up a giant enemy of protagonists in anime boosts their morale to get rid of the identities as colonies (Lam, 2007). As for western powers, they may find the way Japanese turns the grief into dark comedy acceptable because this has sort of implied that their sound governance system and technology beneficial to developing countries’ prosperity, that the deconstructed nations need not submerge themselves in despair with their aid (Noriega, 1987). From the above clues, it seems that Japan has even “integrated” after the 1945 disaster.
However, as I look into Metabolism, the architecture style derived after the war, I start to doubt that if Japan’s ambivalent attitude is just a smiley mask over an indelible “shameful defeat”. Inspired by the self-repairing quality of living cells, Kenzo Tange and a group of Japanese architects challenged the modernist movement in the late 1950s by introducing Metabolism- an ideal of imitating living being to design buildings and cities. A case in point is Nakagin Capsule Tower in Tokyo composed by more than 100 prefabricated cell-like units placed on a shaft separately. In other word, constructions were built to be replaced with readily removable parts. This was undoubtedly a forward-looking idea but ironically originated from the fear of abrupt destruction.
As far as I am concerned, architecture, just like anything else in the world, need not eternal life, but rather serving its own era’s need, and some by chance become an icon of it. When referring back to Japan’s long history of militarism, even its countrymen were trained with patriotism to help extend their national glory aboard, for example, determined to establish East Asian Co-prosperity Sphere with themselves as the leader. Given to recover means returning to the most comfortable state, shouldn’t Japanese be aggressive, or at least self-strengthening? Regrettably, my first impression over Nakagin Capsule Tower is like getting ready to be defeated instead of a weapon to regain dignity. And this reminds me of the way they beat Godzilla in the movie: it is just the deliberately added infinite-reborn characteristic supporting the success, but the protagonists never try to tame the monster. It is somehow like they dare not look back to the tragedy thus shifting their focus to post war-prosperity.
As Stephen Barber notes, Japanese has a “contradictory charge of desolation and elation”. Is it merely the unforgettable defeat they want to wipe out?
The answer varies from people. To me, it is just architecture, the art form that contains no sound, no text, no plot, but spatial manipulation driven by a single concept, provides me a more instinctive view/ second thought over a matter depicted in a film.
Reference:
1. Peng Er Lam, “Japan’s Quest for “Soft Power”: Attraction and Limitation”, East Asia 24, No. 4 (2007): 349–363.
2. Chon Noriega, “Godzilla and the Japanese Nightmare: When “Them!” Is U.S.”, Cinema Journal Vol. 27, No. 1 (Autumn, 1987): 63-77.
Wong Mei Ting, Valerie
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