Horus, prince du soleil

excerpt, more at my location - Developed and created in 1968, Isao Takahata's first feature-length outing fuses Japanese and Norse philosophies and mythologies into the charmingly grown-up children's tale that is The Little Norse Prince.

While the impact of The Little Norse Prince resonates even in today's modern anime, as an individual film, it is a triumphant hallmark of sublime animation and an adult story with genuine heart, warmth, danger and menace that the talking squirrels of Disney's preceding '60s sword film (The Sword In The Stone) could only dream of achieving.

The originality that The Little Norse Prince exudes is nothing short of impressive, as his anti-aging formula transports us back in time to makes us feel young and vulnerable. While it may not be the greatest anime of all time, it is nothing short of being the most important.

The influence of Horus: Prince of the Sun (1968) cannot be overstated. It is not only the feature debut of the legendary Isao Takahata or a precursor of Studio Ghibli; it changed the face of Japanese animation forever, pushing aside the notion that all animation must be for children, that all animation must fit in the Disney musical mold.

I don't feel I need to go into the film's notoriously troubled production; other reviewers have done so with skill. But let me stress to you that if you consider yourself a fan of animation at all, you owe it to yourself to view Horus. Its musical numbers and talking animals are belied by psychological realism, a gritty sensibility, and political commentary. This isn't just a dark family film in the mode of Disney's Pinocchio (1940) or Bluth's The Secret of NIMH (1982), nor is it an "edgy" adult animation which mistakes crudity for maturity.

The film was a disappointment when first released, but its fan base grew quickly with re-releases, many of these fans being high school and college aged students who connected with the struggles of the protagonists, Horus and Hilda. In the United States, we have no equivalent to Horus as of this writing. We are still trapped by the Snow White and Toy Story model. I earnestly pray an American Takahata will one day give us a film such as this and change our animation landscape too.

With so much anime coming to the States in DVD, I don't know why this great film (possibly my first animated foreign film) hasn't recieved greater acclaim.

I love the music to this film, I love the storyline, and the multi-faceted characters. I wish some studio would get on the ball, and get this a bit more attention.

It's a great film. And a great intro to anime before there was "anime."

Sincerely,

JThree

carolyn@dia.net

I first saw this film in the mid-1970's and I really enjoyed it. It came at the time I was first introduced to such Japanese exports as Speed Racer and Kimba, as well as all the Godzilla films. The thing that really made me enjoy it was the story about the young protagonist's quest to free the village of his birth from the evil wizard and his love for the young girl that turned out to be the wizard's daughter. It is just too bad that this film has never been released on DVD. Not only would I enjoy watching it once again, but I think that this film would be enjoyed by younger kids as well. In fact, this film is probably a good introduction for younger viewers to the world of Japanese anime.

Although it was made in 1968, this fascinating animated film feels more like it came out a few years before Nausicaa in the early 1980s; fans of Studio Ghibli will recognize all of its distinctive calling cards. One of these calling cards is the feeling of being totally immersed in an alternate world, which, in this case, is achieved through cultural ambiguity. The odd title, Horus: Prince of the Sun, suggests a pseudo-Egyptian setting, but that couldn't be further from the truth: it is instead vaguely Scandinavian, with its focus on northern villages, but drawing on the culture and mythology of the Ainu, the indigenous people of Hokkaido, Japan's northern island. There are relatively few people, and they are barely surviving given the harsh environment and the evil demon Grunwald, who wants to eliminate humanity; in fact, the isolated village recalls in many ways the post-apocalyptic world of Nausicaa.

While this movie is usually heralded as an auspicious beginning for Japanese anime and Studio Ghibli, I noticed the strong influence of one of its forebears: Lev Atamanov's Snow Queen. In particular, the dark and cold Grunwald is very much like a male version of the Snow Queen, including his appearance. Horus and Hilda recall Kay and Gerda, except that here it is Hilda who is under the spell of the Snow (King). Hilda, like Gerda, is guided by a bird, this time an evil owl. I could go on, but the influence is real, and significant, as acknowledged by Miyazaki. The major difference is that, unlike the later Ghibli films (and Atamanov's Snow Queen, for example), it is the male rather than the female who is the lead.