“Blue Giant is a triumphant ode to the artform packaged in an energetic and uplifting story that features inventive and original animation to match its music.”
A blue giant is a star that burns so bright and hot that the light it emanates is blue. In the world of jazz it refers to a performance that is as hot and intense as that (‘blue’ is a recurring note in jazz, think of legendary label Blue Note for instance). There is probably an irony in screening a film titled Blue Giant in a section called Limelight, but if anything the Rotterdam Film Festival programmed a winner in Tachikawa Yuzuru’s animated tale of friendship, perseverance, and jazz. Lots of jazz. Jazz performances that the film is brave enough to just play out for their entirety, which led the screening audience to erupt in spontaneous applause at the end of each spectacular (both in music and animation) number. Though the story may hit one too many familiar notes, the upbeat energy and bravado in Tachikawa’s adaptation of the wildly popular manga of the same title (courtesy of Shinichi Ishizuka) are sure to win any audience over, even the ones that aren’t into jazz.
It’s been only a few years since Dai was gifted a saxophone, but it has been his life ever since. Practicing day and night, through wind and cold, the teenage boy hones his skill on the instrument. His sleepy hometown is not the right audience for his exploits though, so Dai follows his dream and heads to Tokyo, determined to become the greatest player in the world. Shacking up with a friend, Shunji, Dai soon finds that jazz is a dying artform in Japan’s capital. This doesn’t deter him, and when he meets the prodigious if somewhat arrogant young pianist Yukinori the two form a band, despite reluctance on the part of Dai’s new friend. They need a drummer though, and necessity makes for desperate moves: Shunji, whose only experience with picking up a drumstick probably involved food, becomes the unlikely third member of JASS. Hours and hours of practice lead to ever bigger gigs, where especially Dai’s great talent impresses talent scouts and club owners alike. Will his once-in-a-lifetime skill carry the band to their ultimate goal: playing at the legendary So Blue jazz club, the pinnacle of Japan’s jazz scene?
Familiarity with stories like Blue Giant‘s means asking the question provides its answer as well. Though for good measure the film chooses to spill the beans by interspersing the meteoric rise of Dai and his band with interviews with people who helped them along the way, and who wax lyrically about ‘the great Dai Miyamoto’, installing him as a celebrity already. It is one of a few minor criticisms that can be levelled at Tachikawa’s symphony of colour and sound. The TOHO title features stupendous animation sequences during the performances (often mixed with rotoscoped work to capture the performers’ intensity), each more spectacular and abstract than the last one as image and music meld in an imaginative swirl of energy, effectively mimicking the state of ecstasy searched for in more transcendental music styles like jazz. In the scenes in between the performances the animation can be uninspired though, with especially the character work lacking in imagination and distinctiveness. The dark, smoky jazz clubs are rendered in all their sophisticated glory, but their denizens become a chorus of similar faces.
Blue Giant‘s most winning feature is its music. This is not a job half done: the music for the film was composed by renowned jazz pianist Hiromi Uehara, whose sax-heavy soundtrack evokes the boldest works of, say, John Coltrane (who is visually name-checked through a Stardust album cover). Throbbing, driving saxophone parts and complicated solos are coupled with quick finger work on the keys (it maybe stung Hiromi a bit that Yukinori isn’t the exceptional talent he thinks he is; the piano work definitely places him well above mediocre, no small surprise when you know Hiromi played these parts herself). Shunji’s work on the drums is too strong for a character who only touched his first drumkit mere months before the band’s pinnacle performance, no matter how dedicated his practice hours are. It’s a criticism that is easily overlooked by virtue of just how good the music is, and saxophonist Tomoaki Baba and drummer Shun Ishiwaka, in conjunction with Hiromi on the keys, do exemplary work.
The story’s familiar tune of reaching goals through hardship and hard work, learning important lessons about yourself along the way, is trite, especially because any pitfalls and setbacks are easily brushed aside in a mad dash from humble beginnings to blue giant performances, but the film’s energy and unabashed positivity are likely to win over even the largest grump. And if it can convince a few more people to listen to jazz then that is a success in its own right. As it stands, Blue Giant is a triumphant ode to the artform packaged in an energetic and uplifting story that features inventive and original animation to match its music.