Obayashi\u2019s reputation has zoomed in the years following his death. It helps that his filmography bulges at the seams, with much, but not all, of it becoming accessible internationally (if not entirely legally.) On YouTube, the Obayashi Archive channel produces an annual video chronicling the progress on English-subtitled releases of all his films. In the \u201880s, Obayashi evolved out of making lighthearted family fare towards more ambitious projects that were still aimed at a wide audience, including children and teenagers. He synthesized this approach with techniques learned from his years making experimental shorts and commercials. There really isn\u2019t a good American parallel for his work of this period, but it\u2019s possible to imagine some of these films as Spielberg productions of the same period. (Think The Goonies<\/em> and Gremlins<\/em>.) Yet even at their slickest, they feel homemade. Special effects created with hand-drawn animation are an Obayashi trademark.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Beijing Watermelon<\/em> is fairly uncharacteristic of this period. It\u2019s a sober drama about a Japanese greengrocer Shunzo (Bengal) who befriends a group of Chinese college students at the store he owns near Tokyo. Before he meets Li (Wu Yue), he doesn\u2019t realize just how unhappy he is with his own life. The students introduce him to their group of friends, and Shunzo starts spending most of his time with them. The economic differences between Chinese and Japanese people play a big role in the plot: Li can\u2019t afford his prices for produce. Since the deposit on an apartment in Japan is the equivalent of two months\u2019 salary in China, he decides to help the group of students out financially. But his newfound joy takes a toll: good intentions can\u2019t pay the bills, satisfy his family (his son decides to take another job rather than keep working for him), or preserve his health. While he faces xenophobia (getting nicknamed \u201cthe happy-go-lucky panda\u201d in his neighborhood), his behavior isn\u2019t entirely responsible. The stress contributes to a degree of exhaustion which lands him in the hospital.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Obayashi\u2019s framing presents an inviting social space. Beijing Watermelon\u2019s<\/em> shots tend to be distant but crammed with activity. (Fifty-two minutes pass before the first close-up.) The camera is positioned at the back of the grocery, looking out onto the street. Even trips to tourist traps, like an enormous statue of the Buddha, are deeply meaningful encounters. The final scene presents Chinese student musicians performing on a beach.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In several ways, Obayashi departed from conventions of naturalism, beyond simply making genre films. Casting Blossoms to the Sky<\/em> refuses to give into the spectacle of war,relating the director\u2019s experiences during WWII as a play written by a teenager, with child actors and cardboard sets. His special effects don\u2019t attempt to be seamless or convincing; they acknowledge that we\u2019re watching a movie. In one of its most startling maneuvers, Beijing Watermelon<\/em> breaks the fourth wall by having Shunzo address the audience directly at an important moment. Obayashi\u2019s story was inspired by his real encounters with Chinese students, and the options he had filming it were dictated by life. Additionally, the script alludes to Japan\u2019s imperial history without laying out the full details. But when Shunzo says that his father went to China, he probably means helped the military occupy it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Beijing Watermelon<\/em> was shot in May and June 1989. The Tiananmen Square massacre took place during this period, on June 4th,\u00a0 preventing Obayashi and his cast from traveling to Beijing to work on the film, as they had originally planned. In this light, the subject of Chinese students wanting a different life outside their country takes on a political cast, even if they\u2019re not spending their time protesting. This is one of the great examples of life\u2019s circumstances dictating the course of a film. (Kevin Thomas wasn\u2019t wrong to liken it to Frank Capra, but the meta humanism of Iranian films made around the same time comes closer.)\u00a0 Obayashi cautiously avoids melodrama, and his tone remains optimistic, but the story is tempered by a sense of the limited options reality always brings. In\u00a0 Beijing Watermelon<\/em>, that notion gets played out in several ways.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “Beijing Watermelon” begins its 35th anniversary re-release Friday, with a one-week exclusive screening at New York’s Metrograph<\/a>. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/bw-2-1024x576.jpg\")
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