Gene is an assistant to Pompo, a small girl who is a major film producer in Nyallywood, a fictional version of Hollywood. She predominantly focuses on b-movies with the only objective of entertaining, receiving an extensive network of contacts, cinematic interests, and film expertise from a well-known producer. She recognizes Gene as a remarkable individual working for her and realizes he has latent potential. Consequently, she chooses to bring it out of him by briefing him about a script she's been working on starring Martin Braddock, a well-known actor who hasn't starred in a film in ten years.
Much of what I found as a sentiment of Hirao's exposition was the transparent connection between him and Gene. So much of what Gene faces in the film's third act is a weary and harsh reality of overwork and self-destruction. However, in a conclusion of rather fantasy, it endures the same motto of burdensome attempts to impress others. Much like the team that worked on God Eater or really any anime, Hirao takes a great deal of belief in that sense, which augments a degree of genuineness to the film that might've not been there without him.
You would presumably await an exceptional production for an albeit film about a film, and it unquestionably does. The cinematography, visual motifs, and the apparent special transitions are employed wonderfully. Hirao's inventive choices are still consistent with his previous works, such as Paranoia Agent's pilot episode. The most anime-esque cuts of Gene quite literally cutting film tape through sequences of sakuga make for the usual wacky enjoyability. It is just as engaging as it is profuse in self-referencing innovativeness. However, these transitions can cultivate to be either hit or miss.
Correspondingly, Hirao's disordered methodology to the artistic process is an unavoidable presence in the film. While the original work is somewhat satirical about its complacency, Hirao accepts it earnestly. Questioning whether the creative technique is "truly" connected with sacrificing elements of your life, relationships, and even health as an essentially lonely activity. And it looks to be such to him. Gene and his characters' journeys are self-harming—they're well aware of this, as is the film, but neither has the determination to criticize or even mention it as poor. Their perspective is "questioned" but can only present a conflict of its ideas without any sizable conclusion or nuance.
Now, as gloomy as the film's thematic ramifications might be, Pompo: The Cinéphile is still a refreshing film to see. Hirao being entrusted with a picture that celebrates the artifice of cinema and the power of editing enabled him to release all of his techniques in an unadulterated and passable form. That howbeit may not have been as amazing of a return, was fitting all the same.
Pompo: The Cinéphile is just as much a return to Hirao's possible direction of excellence but a means of illustrating his struggles in an exhibition of what makes films genuinely an enjoyable experience through a passion for technicality. It is a refreshing and amusing clutter of naivete of optimism and pessimism—for better or worse, it's candidly a liberation of his sentiment toward film. The duality of Hirao's and Gene's conflict is about proving others wrong, equally as it may be indeterminate to its principles, which may very well sum up Hirao. Nevertheless, I will certainly keep an eye on Hirao's future works, and I hope you do as well. Thank you for reading!
46.5 out of 54 users liked this review
