Translation: Toshio Suzuki Reminisces About Isao Takahata (Part 2)

I am sorry for the long, long wait, but here’s part 2. A lot of fascinating details about the production of Princess Kaguya. I’ve also started adding tooltips (I may go back and add some to part 1 at some point). I plan to finish the third and last part by tomorrow.

You can read part 1 here.

The original Japanese article can be found here. Originally published in the Ghibli Textbook #19: The Tale of Princess Kaguya.


“When I Proposed Dismissing Director Isao Takahata” – Toshio Suzuki talks about Isao Takahata (Part 2)

At that time, Takahata-san was eager to adapt “The Tale of the Heike“. A concept that sounded interesting, but there was one problem: Who would do the key animation? “When it comes to drawing the Heike battle scene, no one but me could do that,” Hayao Miyazaki boasted and I understood how immensely difficult it would be on a technical level. Takahata tried to ask Osamu Tanabe who had worked on “The Yamadas” to do it, but Tanabe in his stubbornness retorted: “I don’t want to draw pictures of people killing each other.”

I then proposed “Tale of the Bamboo Cutter”. As everyone knows, this is Japan’s oldest story and I remembered that Takahata himself had said once that “it should be turned properly into a movie by someone.” When I brought that up again, he replied: “I did say that someone should make it, but I never said I was the one.”

“Why Did Princess Kaguya Choose the Earth?”

I told Takahata how Ujiie-san told me he wanted to see one more of his works at all cost before his death. Since there were no other good proposals, and “Tale of the Bamboo Cutter” had no scenes of people killing each other, Tanabe-kun would also agree to help, I told him. While trying to convince him with these words, Takahata-san suddenly asked: “Okay, please tell me one thing. Why did the princess, among all the stars, choose the Earth? If we don’t understand this, we can’t make this movie, right?” “Please think about that yourself,” I was about to retort, but he would continue this question-and-answer game with the producer forever because he was someone who needed this input at certain intervals to move forward. When such a discussion got going, he wouldn’t stop and continue talking throughout the entire night, even until the next morning without batting an eyelid.

Especially during the planning stage, we had to do these talks for at least 10 hours every day. Honestly speaking, I got fed up with this and it also left me with no time to attend to my other work. That’s when I sent the young Yoshiaki Nishimura and Taku Kishimoto in as Takahata’s discussion partners. Because they were so young, they were able to stand their ground as his conversation partners, and my hope was also that having new conversation partners would prove to be stimulating for him. And when it actually began, those two young guys listened enthusiastically to what he had to say which also seemed to make him happy.

I periodically had the two report to me, at which point they told me that Takahata-san wanted to completely change the project plan in the middle of the way. He was thinking about making a drama with Norio Akasaka’s book “Birth of the Lullaby” as an original concept. But he himself understood that this would be difficult. So after many twists and turns, he returned to the initial “Kaguya” plan and the production began formally.

“That Man Still Has the Scent of a Marxist”

I believe that as a producer, I must run a three-legged race with the director, so to speak. Looking at it from that perspective, I couldn’t be called producer this time. That’s why I appointed Nishimura as the producer and left everything to him. By the way, the other producer, Kishimoto, quit Ghibli in between and is now a popular scriptwriter.

As the preparations for “Kaguya” progressed, Ujiie-san invited Takahata-san, Miya-san and me on a trip to visit art museums in Europe. Beginning in 2008, we would visit [museums in] France, Italia and Spain for the next three years, but I think Miya-san and I were just extras – Ujiie-san really wanted to go with Takahata-san.

At that point I tried to ask him why he was so fixated on Takahata-san.

“Takahata’s movies have a poetic side. I fell in love with that. That man still has the scent of a Marxist.” That was Ujiie-san’s answer. In the end, the movie could not be completed in Ujiie-sans lifetime. But at the end of 2010, he was able to take a look at some of the storyboards that were already completed. He took his time to read through them, and then uttered: “Princess Kaguya sure is a selfish girl. But that’s just the type of girl I like.” Three months later, Ujiie-san left this world at the age of 84.

“Hayao Miyazaki’s Unassuming Cooperation”

In the early stage of the production, at one side of the floor, the “Kaguya” team would work, and Miyazaki’s team on the other side.Tanabe-kun, one of the artists from the Kaguya team, would come early and diligently draw the key animation by himself. Takahata always came in the afternoon. Then right after arriving, he would look at Tanabe-kun’s drawings and angrily complain “not like this, this is wrong.”

Observing this every day, I noticed something amusing. When Takahata-san got angry, Miya-san would casually stand behind the Kaguya team and strain his ears to hear what was going on. Then on the next morning, he’d visit Tanabe at his desk. “What Paku-san meant is this. That’s why you have to draw it like that,” he would explain while drawing what he meant. “But don’t tell Paku-san that I told you this.” That’s what he’d do every day, all while neglecting his own work.

But Tanabe is a stubborn guy, so he refused to draw like that. Miya-san really has a soft heart, it was touching to see… After “The Yamadas”, he saw the terrible state of the studio. “We can’t let him make another movie,” he exclaimed furiously, but in the end he himself wanted to see Takahata’s works more than anyone.

“If You Want This Work to Be Completed, Dismiss Takahata”

When the preparations had reached a certain point, the progress suddenly slowed down. When I asked Nishimura, I learned that in short, Takahata tried to make Tanabe single-handedly draw all the scenes. The already steep demands from “The Yamadas” were escalating further.

In the past decades, the level of detail in animation has gradually increased. For example, during “My Neighbor Totoro”, one person drew about ten minutes worth of key animation of a feature-length movie, but nowadays no more than 3 minutes are possible. In a time of strong work segmentation where more and more animators are needed, Takahata tried to make one single person draw everything.

If he’d leave it to a select few, I could understand it, but it just wasn’t realistic to leave it to one person. I then took a middle position and suggested Nishimura to have about three people draw the pictures. As a result, Masashi Andō returned to Ghibli for the first time in a long while. Under Miyazaki, he’d worked as the animation director for “Princess Mononoke” and “Spirited Away”. Furthermore, Ken’ichi Konishi and Shinji Hashimoto, who had worked on “The Yamadas”, joined in and things finally progressed on the key animation side.

It was when the production was maybe halfway done when Nishimura came to me and said with a serious expression: “We won’t be able to complete it at this rate.” At that time, I told him: “If you really want this work to be completed, dismiss Takahata. Just leave the rest to Tanabe or Andō.” Takahata was someone who had studied the French language and learned to think in an European style of rationalism. I won’t go as far as to say he would have quit by himself, but if a producer dismissed him from his post, he would think about it logically and obey. That was an especially troublesome time for Nishimura. In the end, after a 3-month standstill on the key animation side, he was able to get Takahata-san to devote himself to finishing the storyboard.

Trouble like this came and went, but this time I didn’t have to deal with it directly, so I was able to take it relatively easy. Nishimura-san, who continued to work with Takahata-san, on the other hand, got thinner and thinner. I appointed him when he was 28, but when the work was finished, he was 36. During this time, he had married and become a father. He devoted most of his youth to one film. I think he really, persistently did his best.

Translation: Toshio Suzuki Reminisces About Isao Takahata (Part 1)

Last August, the severe working conditions under Isao Takahata made headlines on many websites after Ghibli producer and long-time colleague Toshio Suzuki openly talked about Takahata’s incredibly demanding work practices and how he “destroyed” the staff that worked on his films. In a three-part article for the Japanese website Bunshin, Suzuki reminisces about Takahata and why Takahata is still on his mind even months after his passing.

Some key points and quotes were already mentioned in said articles, but the whole thing is much, much longer and contains many more insightful comments by Suzuki that help us understand what kind of man and creator Takahata was, for the better or worse.

This is my first Japanese-to-English translation of a text this long, so I apologize for any wonky English you might encounter. I will try to translate part 2 and 3 as soon as possible.

“Why I Stopped Wanting to Make Movies with Takahata Isao-san” – Toshio Suzuki talks about Isao Takahata (Part 1)

Published on August 10, 2018 here. Originally published in the Ghibli Textbook #19: The Tale of Princess Kaguya.

When Takahata-san died, and even now after the memorial meeting, my feelings show no signs of settling down. After the death of Tokuma Yasuyoshi, Ujiie Seiichirō-san, my mother and my father, I was able to sort out my feelings after the funeral. But this time I’m just unable to calm down. Constantly Takahata-san comes to my mind. I’m experiencing this for the first time in my life. Maybe this shows what a strong presence he had, and honestly speaking, it bothers me.

I’ve already said this at the “Farewell Party”, but in the end, my relationship with Takahata-san was that of a producer and a director. There was always some kind of tension in the air.

– Toshio Suzuki (Studio Ghibli Representative Producer)

The first time I had a long talk with Takahata-san was when he was working on “Chie the Brat”. At that time, I was an editor for the “Animage” magazine and was supposed to interview Takahata-san in a cafe in Kōenji, where the production company Telecom [Animation Film] was stationed. Right when we sat down, he already fired the first bullets. “I’m sure you want to hear me talking about nonsense like what part of the original work inspired me to make this movie.”

I already knew from my phone calls prior to the meeting that he was a difficult person, so I fired back by confronting him with the questions I had carefully prepared beforehand. His replies were endlessly long and before I knew it, three hours had passed. Just when he was about to leave, Takahata-san said: “You can’t use this, right? You can’t make this into an article, right?” I accepted this challenge and wrote an article.

From this day until the end of the production of the movie, I met up with Takahata-san in Kōenji every day and we continued our talk. Then, at the screening party after the movie’s completion, Takahata-san told me: “Thanks to you, I was able sort out my own thoughts.” That might have been the first time tasting the joys of making movies and being a producer.

Working with Takahata-san Was No Cakewalk

The movies I worked on at Ghibli with Takahata-san include five titles, “Grave of the Fireflies”, “Only Yesterday”, “Pom Poko”, “My Neighbors the Yamadas” and “The Tale of Princess Kaguya”. To make a movie, the director and the producer form a joint venture-like relationship. No good works are created just by getting along. It’s no overstatement to say that we argued continuously each time and that those days were like fighting a war. You often hear that you should keep a proper distance, but it’s not that easy. We just clashed time and time again.

My position demanded me to point out the uncomfortable facts to Takahata-san. When we fell behind schedule more and more during the work on “Grave of the Fireflies”, I had no choice but to get into a serious argument with him to have the film ready for the opening day. After a discussion with Murase Takuo who was in charge of Shinchōsha back then, I decided to trim the 107-minute long storyboard down to 88 minutes. I still painfully remember that even that was not enough, and the movie had to be screened with some parts still unpolished.

When working on “Pom Poko”, I already anticipated that we would fall behind schedule and went so far as to put up an altered promotional poster reading “Opening This Spring” instead of the real “Opening This Summer” poster next to Takahata’s workplace. But it had no use at all. (laughs bitterly) In the end, I had to make cuts again, something Takahata-san held against me forever.

This process continued to repeat itself and after the production of “The Yamadas”, I decided to put an end to Takahata’s works. “The Tale of Princess Kaguya” wouldn’t have happened without the involvement of [former] Nippon TV chairman Ujiie Sei’ichirō-san.

I Want to See One More of Takahata’s Works Before I Die

Ujiie-san and Tokuma Shoten’s president, Yasuyoshi Tokuma, both had a Yomiuri Shimbun background. We also got along well as managers, so I had the honor to hold the memorial address at Tokuma’s funeral. To express his gratitude for that, Ujiie-san visited me and said in an earnest voice: “Toku-san was an incredible person. From a company to movies, he made so many different things. That guy was a real producer. Looking back on my life now, I’ve done nothing. Do you understand the sadness a 70-something year-old guy feels when he has done nothing in his life?”

I didn’t know how to reply to that, so I trivially said: “But you’ve held a high position in the mass media. You were the one who rebuilt Nippon TV, Ujiie-san” to what Ujiie-san shouted angrily: “Idiot! Everything in the Yomiuri Group was built by Shōriki [Matsutarō]-san. We only have built upon that. I want to try to make something by myself at least once. I cannot die before I do that.” He looked very serious.

Ujiie-san made me the board chairman of the Ghibli Museum at some point. After that, once a month, under the pretext of wanting a “report”, he came to meet me. On that occasion, he would ask me “What’s Takahata doing at the moment? Of all Ghibli works, I love ‘My Neighbors, the Yamadas’ the most. That might not be the most popular work. But before I die, I want to see one more of Takahata’s works at all costs. As my farewell present. Come on.”

Even after he said that much, I can’t say I was very eager. But each time I met him, he would ask me: “So, have you decided?” and I would always reply “I’m examining the possibility” to dodge the issue. But one time, he got furious. “I know the reason why Takahata can’t do another movie. That reason is you!”

The Entire Staff Gets Completely Worn-Out

This had to be said at this point, so I defiantly explained what a movie by Takahata would entail. “It costs money, of course, and not meeting deadlines is also an issue, but that’s not all. The real problem is his way of making [films]. Because he shows no consideration for the people around him, the entire staff gets completely worn out. To make matters worse, by doing that, he violates what Ghibli has built up that way, the work environment that was fostered. The company becomes a complete mess.”

The storyboards are drawn, and based on that, the layout work is done, and the key animators draw the key frames. Then the in-betweeners draw the pictures between the key frames. This is the basic principle of the Japanese animation system Takahata and his peers have established. But when he made “The Yamadas”, Takahata said he wanted to scrap that system. He said he wanted an approach where one person draws all lines. He denied the methodology he himself created and rebuilt it from scratch. Creation, destruction and regeneration. Describing it like this may sound cool, but it effectively eliminated the work of 50+ in-betweeners, and the animators who had to do the entire process were worn out to the verge of collapse. But when Takahata wants to do something, he listens to no one. One by one, he wore the staff out until they left. Miya-san knew that and exasperatedly exclaimed: “Suzuki-san, what’s happening here? I want to protect this studio.” I could understand his feeling very well.

What Takahata was trying to achieve far exceeded the frame of a normal animation movie meant for entertainment. Because he employed the same methods as someone creating works of art, the results were so impressive. If an impressionist painting would be created as animation – well, that’s what “The Yamadas” became. Later, when a retrospective exhibition of Ghibli works was hosted in the MoMA (Museum of Modern Art in New York) and the person in charge came and said: “There is one wonderful work that stands above all others. I want to add that to our permanent collection,” I was not surprised. That was the mindset this work was created with.

But Ujiie-san didn’t give up, even after I explained all these things to him, and insisted on a Takahata movie. At that point I resigned and began to discuss the plan for the project with Takahata-san.

Part 2, Part 3.