The most devastating film I have ever seen
Just to lay out how effective this film is and how much domination it enjoys over my soul, simply know that it made me cry and hopelessly paranoid hours after watching, twice. That in mind, When the Wind Blows is a fairly obscure and rarely discussed British animated film from 1986. Directed by animation legend Jimmy T. Murakami (chiefly known for the iconic short film, The Snowman) and based of the book by Raymond Briggs, the film is fairly notorious among animation fans for it's extremely dark subject matter, and the infamously bleak depiction of this subject matter. It has since been heralded as a hidden gem and a classic of 80's British cinema.
The film follows an elderly English couple, a man named Jim and a woman named Hilda, living in an isolated cottage in the countryside. Their life is shown to be extremely idealic and free of worry, immediately making the characters the least likely focus for a film about the effects of a nuclear bomb, which this film is. We follow their preparations for the upcoming bomb, done with the aid of Government pamphlets, which is done in a relatively light-hearted and almost comedic fashion. The audience is lulled into false sense of security by the chipper, gentle and warm tone. A bomb could not possibly fall on the lives of characters such as these, they are far too innocent to exist in an environment like that, the viewer thinks to themselves in hope. Even the occasional cutaways to the bombs being prepared to launch from Russia seem unnreal, set aside the domestic disputes of the two characters. Despite the expectations and hopes of the audience, fall the bomb does. (Spoilers from this point onward).
Jim and Hilda die. They die very slowly and in ever increasing pain and misery, this slow decay into death is the focus for the film past the opening twenty minutes. This is why the film is infamous, it tackles the true horror and misery that would result from a nuclear war and is unforgettably upsetting.
As you can tell from the image above, the film has a very plump and cute art-style. It is reminiscent of The Snowman and looks not too dissimilar to a TV special for little kids. On it's own, this aesthetic would probably be ill equipped to handle the horror of the film's later section, therefore the film mixes in many other animation styles. Pencil drawn, stop motion, watercolour and even stop motion is mixed into this film in some capacity. Every single one of these styles is used to display a specific element of the films story. For example, the pencil drawn segments are used whenever the characters have a pleasant or wistful dream sequence, of which there are two in the film (along with one which is far less pleasant, yet equally dreamlike). The multiple animation styles are blended stunningly, all creating and specific effect and building towards the film's overall effect. Not only would I praise the animation of this film, but I would go as far as to call it an astonishing achievement, a milestone in the evolution of animation. There are very few films which use it's visual style to such an effect, and almost none which do so as creatively. In the end, we see our plush and warm little characters wither away through radiation poisoning. Their cute, childlike animation giving way to a nightmarish window into reality.
Above and beyond the awe inspiring animation are the vocal performances from Peggy Ashcroft and John Mills. The two actors bring the characters to life with such believable sensitivity that it is hard to describe. These feel like real, living, breathing people. At several points in the film, I am reminded of my own grandparents and other elderly people I have known. The inflections of pain, and slow creeping sentiment of despair that grows within their voices throughout the film is possibly the most saddening thing I have ever heard. It is hard to comprehend or articulate, it is simply harrowing.
Overall, When the Wind Blows is a very simple film. It does one thing, rend the soul of it's viewer (in this case me) and it does it better than any film I have ever witnessed. Upon my second viewing (I set myself a goal to watch films at least twice before I review them for MC) I noticed one other beam of brilliance which tipped this film into officially being a work of genius in my eyes. The films, chronology. The audience is never informed how much time passes between the bombs impact, and the couples' death. At first I assumed several days due to the dwindling supplies they endure, however they did not seem very well prepared in the first place. The frequent fades to black could imply the passing of days, weeks or merely hours. As the gloomy grey environment never changes, under the effect of a nuclear winter, time is completely distorted and impossible to read. This single revelation confirmed what I had previously suspected, this film is cinematic purgatory incarnate.
I am now quite fervently anti-nuclear because of this film, and have a streak of paranoia that I didn't realise before. This will be the most depressing and bleak review I will ever write on this blog, and that is only to pay some level of tribute to this masterpiece of misery.
By Jack D. Phillips
Masterpiece Corner #2
The film follows an elderly English couple, a man named Jim and a woman named Hilda, living in an isolated cottage in the countryside. Their life is shown to be extremely idealic and free of worry, immediately making the characters the least likely focus for a film about the effects of a nuclear bomb, which this film is. We follow their preparations for the upcoming bomb, done with the aid of Government pamphlets, which is done in a relatively light-hearted and almost comedic fashion. The audience is lulled into false sense of security by the chipper, gentle and warm tone. A bomb could not possibly fall on the lives of characters such as these, they are far too innocent to exist in an environment like that, the viewer thinks to themselves in hope. Even the occasional cutaways to the bombs being prepared to launch from Russia seem unnreal, set aside the domestic disputes of the two characters. Despite the expectations and hopes of the audience, fall the bomb does. (Spoilers from this point onward).
Jim and Hilda die. They die very slowly and in ever increasing pain and misery, this slow decay into death is the focus for the film past the opening twenty minutes. This is why the film is infamous, it tackles the true horror and misery that would result from a nuclear war and is unforgettably upsetting.
As you can tell from the image above, the film has a very plump and cute art-style. It is reminiscent of The Snowman and looks not too dissimilar to a TV special for little kids. On it's own, this aesthetic would probably be ill equipped to handle the horror of the film's later section, therefore the film mixes in many other animation styles. Pencil drawn, stop motion, watercolour and even stop motion is mixed into this film in some capacity. Every single one of these styles is used to display a specific element of the films story. For example, the pencil drawn segments are used whenever the characters have a pleasant or wistful dream sequence, of which there are two in the film (along with one which is far less pleasant, yet equally dreamlike). The multiple animation styles are blended stunningly, all creating and specific effect and building towards the film's overall effect. Not only would I praise the animation of this film, but I would go as far as to call it an astonishing achievement, a milestone in the evolution of animation. There are very few films which use it's visual style to such an effect, and almost none which do so as creatively. In the end, we see our plush and warm little characters wither away through radiation poisoning. Their cute, childlike animation giving way to a nightmarish window into reality.
Above and beyond the awe inspiring animation are the vocal performances from Peggy Ashcroft and John Mills. The two actors bring the characters to life with such believable sensitivity that it is hard to describe. These feel like real, living, breathing people. At several points in the film, I am reminded of my own grandparents and other elderly people I have known. The inflections of pain, and slow creeping sentiment of despair that grows within their voices throughout the film is possibly the most saddening thing I have ever heard. It is hard to comprehend or articulate, it is simply harrowing.
Overall, When the Wind Blows is a very simple film. It does one thing, rend the soul of it's viewer (in this case me) and it does it better than any film I have ever witnessed. Upon my second viewing (I set myself a goal to watch films at least twice before I review them for MC) I noticed one other beam of brilliance which tipped this film into officially being a work of genius in my eyes. The films, chronology. The audience is never informed how much time passes between the bombs impact, and the couples' death. At first I assumed several days due to the dwindling supplies they endure, however they did not seem very well prepared in the first place. The frequent fades to black could imply the passing of days, weeks or merely hours. As the gloomy grey environment never changes, under the effect of a nuclear winter, time is completely distorted and impossible to read. This single revelation confirmed what I had previously suspected, this film is cinematic purgatory incarnate.
I am now quite fervently anti-nuclear because of this film, and have a streak of paranoia that I didn't realise before. This will be the most depressing and bleak review I will ever write on this blog, and that is only to pay some level of tribute to this masterpiece of misery.
By Jack D. Phillips
Masterpiece Corner #2
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