Keiichi Hara’s Miss Hokusai is an interesting approach to two genres. Not only is it a biopic of the famed Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai (most well-known for “The Great Wave”) told through his daughter O-Ei’s observations, but it is an animated feature whose structure leans toward chapters and vignettes. The only linear indication is the changing of the seasons. Visually, it is engrossing and features plenty of stunning images of 1814 Edo, which would later become Tokyo. Miss Hokusai falters, however, in its meandering narrative and uneven pacing.
To its credit, Miss Hokusai isn’t as uneven as its opening scene would lead you to believe. Opening on O-Ei’s narration praising the range of her father’s talents, we see her walking through the streets of Edo while the soundtrack erupts with a rock guitar riff. Incongruous doesn’t begin to describe it. But just as soon as that sequence throws viewers into confusion, the film settles into a much more appropriate period animation and soundtrack. In its episodic narrative, the film focuses less on pinpointing any defining moments in Hokusai’s life. Instead, the most quintessentially biopic scenes here do their part to obliquely illustrate his character. When they aren’t simply atmospheric segments or scenes involving O-Ei’s blind little sister, O-Nao, that is.
While discussing Hokusai with fellow artists, O-Ei – an artist herself – states that he doesn’t drink or smoke, and one artist says, “He paints erotica, though, so I guess he likes women.” This conversation is merely a precursor to the group’s trip (with Hokusai himself) to the brothel district Yoshiwara, but indicates a defining aspect of Miss Hokusai: it features a dialogue-heavy script. The catch is, we don’t glean that much about O-Ei or Hokusai through all of this dialogue. Many of these talky scenes are more or less innocuous, establishing a rather forced goofball comic relief characterization of one of the artists, giving us a minimal idea of life in Edo or other notable artists of the era.
It is important to note, however, that Miss Hokusai was adapted by screenwriter Miho Maruo from the Hinako Sugiura manga series, so certain aspects of the narrative frame are carryovers from the source material. The manga series, though, seems to have focused quite a lot of energy on portraying how O-Ei toiled in her father’s shadow, a sentiment that is largely glossed over in the film. One major hindrance in film’s narrative flow is O-Nao, specifically the scenes where O-Ei visits this ailing younger sister, but she doesn’t seem to have been a character in the manga. The intention is clearly to portray Hokusai as a workaholic, with Hara attempting to show an unsavory side of the famed artist. For his part, Hokusai never interacts with the sickly O-Nao, but the simple fact is that O-Nao is fictional, a device used to illustrate a point about how engulfed in his art Hokusai is. That, coupled with the fact that her scenes with O-Ei are distractingly sentimental compared to the rest of the film (not to mention bizarrely morbid towards the end), makes the decision to include her all the more strange.
Despite the satisfaction grandiose aerial shots of Hokusai painting massive portraits bring, Miss Hokusai falls short both in its attempts to engender an appreciation for Hokusai’s talents and in affording a better understanding of the artist as a person. The film’s pseudo-philosophical discussions of art are a pleasant surprise, but they ultimately offer no real insight into the lives of either Hokusai or O-Ei.
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