Like telling ghost stories in a room for hours, watch too many episodes at a time and they tend to lose their edge.
But the stories are simple, and if the monster appears then it generally fits the atmosphere at least. It's said that the monster left unseen is scarier than the monster that is revealed, and while Yami Shibai generally adheres to this principle there are times when an unflattering grotesque amalgamation of flesh and eyes jumps out to close out the show. Done with a scratchy texture and the clear image of static paper models sliding back and forth, along with the narration from the sinister storyteller, we really get the impression of a play happening right in front of a crowd of wide-eyed children, gulping as the window begins to rattle or the printer begins to spit out images of hair. Opening up the box, he sets up the story, and then for the next four minutes the characters go about their daily lives on the path to terror. Intersect these two early 20th century classics of childhood, along with a pun on the words kami (paper) and yami (darkness), and you have Yami Shibai, a paper story not for the faint of heart.Īs each episode opens, a man in a grinning mask calls the playground children over to hear his tale. Another common story practice in Japan is when kids assemble after hours and tell ghost stories, blowing out the candles illuminating the room one by one until they sit in complete silence, with tales of monsters and demons fresh on their minds. But even this is relatively new compared to the kami shibai theaters of the early 20th century. Anime is getting more and more advanced, with better modeling techniques replacing the need for classic techniques such as working with cels. Travelling storytellers would carry their paper cutout characters and box theaters on their bicycles, going far and wide to tell immortal stories such as Golden Bat, or more improvised one-off stories to entertain kids. ApSometimes it’s nice to return to the roots.
Sometimes it’s nice to return to the roots.
0 kommentar(er)
