Animehouse

As most that will have heard of with The Star of Cottonland circulating once again, I too was drawn to it by its moniker as “the first cat girl anime”. While it’s a little vague- and slightly incorrect as it popularized catgirls in actuality- it’s really a very palatable jumping off point for engaging with this distinctly unique film. It’s a flavor of anime that feels irrevocably tied to the decade it originated from, but closer examination places it at something of a no-man’s land- a sense of timelessness that’s stained by its simplicities and interests.

Though reviews for The Star of Cottonland are few and far between, both offerings from Justin Sevakis during their tenure with ANN, and THEM Anime Reviews point towards a well defined piece of that timelessness- its focus on the idea of adolescence and independence. In particular, roughly the first half or third of the film excels within this point, whereas the latter moments wander into the dream-like world of Chibi-Neko a little too much. In the beginning, all our little kitten yearns for is to grow up- grow up real big, and go from a cat that looks like a human to a real human. Placing that internal monologue against the external portrayal of her owner Tokio, a well thought out picture appears. A picture that places Chibi-Neko’s character as a childlike innocence that Tokio holds onto, but one that is fundamentally inaccessible due to his nature as a human.

I think the moment that really drove home that sentiment in The Star of Cottonland certainly has to be when Tokio mirrors the movements of Chibi-Neko. Juxtaposed with the young Kitten’s anthropomorphic appearance, you get the idea that Tokio’s behavior is meant to be regressive in nature, pulling him back towards his time as a child. It’s a piece of context that really helps drive Tokio’s character towards solid development when socializing with other humans instead of just Chibi-Neko. Similarly, you could say that Chibi-Neko’s environment caters to her desire to grow up; featuring older characters, a shot at independence, and an adventure all of her own where she must learn about the world. The operating word in the prior sentence being “could”. While it remains a strong narrative voice through the earlier moments, by the time that Chibi-Neko flies the coop, the angle of being a family movie to enjoy erodes The Star of Cottonland’s ability to deliver a meaningful narrative. Certainly, it will remind you of plenty of movies you watched growing up with the sense of wonder and adventure present, but it’s work that tramples on the thoughtful and expressive scenes that the film opens with.

Diving a little deeper, The Star of Cottonland truly mirrors a lot of the narrative shapes that defined this era. Primarily, its lack of focus on supporting characters as something that are dynamic stands out the strongest. With how well expressed it can be early on, the far more static nature of Tokio’s parents, for example, sticks out a little bit. They’re not necessarily artificial, but I think an apt description would be to liken them to a piece that is equally as decorative as the environments. They exist for a purpose, but it’s rather literal… at least through the majority of the first half of the film, which I’ll touch on in a bit. Regardless, the human characters that aren’t Tokio feel like a wall has been put up around them.

On the other hand, her fellow cats have a much more dynamic sense to them, but are almost even more of a literal vehicle for the film. Teaching Chibi-Neko about stealing food, or how to survive on the streets, or even offering a hand to lead them to paradise- their ambitions and purpose are never well hidden, you might say. It makes sense, really, when you consider that the majority of these fleeting feline faces appear during Chibi-Neko’s journey through the world. It really drives home how much stronger the former parts of The Star of Cottonland are, where a much more nuanced story appears.

To conclude my rambilng on the story though, I must admit that it’s rather solid overall. While the film feels like it exists in two very distinct parts, each certainly have their own allure and interest within. Earlier pieces are absolutely what will engage adults, but the latter half speaks to children in a very strong manner. I’m not sure if I would go as far as claiming it to be a family movie like Sevakis does in their review, but I’m rather comfortable with admitting The Star of Cottonland has pieces that will interest a wide range of viewers… if only sacrificing its dedication to do so.

Now, to that little bit of allusion in the comment about Tokio’s parents. The Star of Cottonland as a visual work is… interesting, at the minimum. But where does that visual curiosity come from? In particular, it arises with the second half of the work, and stems from the fact that the film doesn’t even come close to completing the content of the first volume for its manga. Yes, it’s incredibly peculiar, wherein it stitches together a whole three chapters- which admittedly still eats up a solid portion of screen time- with a large degree of original content. Could you guess where that content starts and stops? Why, how did you also know that it begins with the start of Chibi-Neko’s journey?

Humor aside, there does exist a very visible delineation between adaptation and original, and it’s here that series director Shinichi Tsuji gets to spread their wings. While a healthy amount of “anime absurdism” exists in the context of the adapted sequences, Tsuji’s mind runs wild with the visual work stippling the original pieces of this film. It’s nowhere near the mind-bending expression that also existed during this era with, say, Oshii’s Gosenzo-Sama Banbanzai!!, but it certainly carves a name out for itself with strong direction and style that abstracts many of the experiences Chibi-Neko can undergo as her journey wears on.

If it weren’t for this incredibly strong showing from Tsuji in the latter pieces of The Star of Cottonland, it certainly wouldn’t be the film it stands to be today. Ooshima’s manga maintains strong footing, but the original content cannot carry itself with narrative alone, so thank goodness the production shines in the second half with a near excessive amount of 2d vehicles and other challenging details. Seriously, it’s hard to believe the kind of quality and detail that exists in some of these cuts, and how well placed their are under Tsuji’s supervision. Chibi-Neko stuck at the train tracks is great, but I equally love the danger overriden by the whimsy of exploration that Chibi-Neko expresses when dealing with crossing traffic

Despite the disparity of the two halves of The Star of Cottonland, and my qualms with praticularly the original content, it’s hard to not see this film in a positive light. A strong catalyst for many aspects of anime as we see them today (regardless of how different they appear), The Star of Cottonland undoubtedly has a firm place in the history of the medium. Between Ooshima’s strong story, and Tsuji’s surprisingly impressive visual execution, it’s a very easy movie to digest, but also equally willing to be picked apart and dissected. I’d certainly recommend it if you’re looking some something with a bit of age to it.

… though, I’m not quite done yet. The review is certainly over, but I’ll be following this up with a post about the unique situation, release, reception, and details of The Star of Cottonland. This review is just a bit too long to do it all in the same place, so I hope you’ll humor me splitting it into parts.