2021/09/18 Bobby's Girl & Finding Your People
Over these past couple years, I've been making my way through Madhouse's large corpus of films. The classic directors and staffers who shaped anime, like Rintaro, Kawajiri, Maruyama, and most influentially Dezaki, all worked for Madhouse, all pumping out (mostly) great films which are now often forgotten. One film I came across when browsing down my list is "Bobby's Girl", a 45 minute film directed by the lesser-known Hirata Toshio, who worked alongside many of the aforementioned big names. Going into this film I was quite unprepared for how hard it was planning hit me. [spoilers ahead]
The film starts somewhat subdued as we're introduced to the main characters. In short, our protagonist Bobby falls out with his parents after getting berated for skipping school to go touring on his motorbike; he flees from home, rents an apartment paying the rent with money he makes at the bike-themed diner he stumbles across, coincidentally also called "Bobby's". All the while, he's maintains correspondence with a girl via mail. The first half of the movie is slow, gradually setting up the characters; but the pacing is understandable - should they have sped through the introduction, they'd have set a falsely fast pace for the meat of the movie. The plot is set in motion when the girl he's corresponding with asks if for her birthday he could call her for the very first time - a promise which may be hard to keep.
Months pass, and his boss, a man who Bobby begins to very much respect, gives him the day off work; he tells him to meet him early in the morning, and together off they ride. Watching the old, bearded boss ride his mature BMW bike alongside the young Bobby ride his blue bike of boyhood through the bright morning sun is like watching a lion and its cub running across the savannah. In his boss, Bobby has found a spiritual father, one who can lead our young wildling; much unlike his own father whose obsession with academics kept him and Bobby distant. They leave the city and bike through a beautifully animated countryside; leaving the city, Bobby's leaving the mundane, joining the uncharted wilderness where there lies an element of the uncertain: of magic. The old man stops his bike - Bobby stops beside him - and the sound of mosquitos can be heard far in the distance. As the sound gets louder, the noise is not that of mosquitoes; no, it's the roar of motorbikes.
And as Bobby sees these motorbikes speeding over the dirt track before him, he sees they all wearing "Bobby's" written upon their leathers. Bobby met his father, and now he meets his people; a small village lives here in the hills where they race bikes - teams of mechanics and racers congregate, all under the moniker "Bobby's". Bobby has found his people! He's left the world of herbivores and met carnivorous cousins who he understands. Bobby, stunned by what he's seen, looks up to his boss; his boss tells him, "Bobby - I'm going to make a champion of you". The suns light is blinding.
Having just found his tribe, his family, a faint whisper plays in his head: "remember to phone me at 10PM". Today was Bobby's Girl's birthday. Bobby, now knowing the route to meet his people, heads back home to catch the phone. The road home is long - it's been a long journey to find his people - and the searing summer sun begins to set. I'll take a moment to say that the animation is beautiful; never have I seen animated backgrounds on road journeys done so fluidly. Bobby racing home to hear the dulcet voice of his girl enters into a clear state of bliss - smooth sketches take over from painted cel in animating his ride, as the 80s pop plays loud enough to mask the sounds of his motorbike.
Then a hatchback pulls out into the road; Bobby doesn't notice, and in doging swerves over the railing off the cliff edge. We're left with a shot of a distorted room; the phone ringing without cease, waiting to be picked up. What an empty end to a triumphant film; Bobby's discovery was the beginning, no? the beginning of his new life? Bobby enters his manly paradise, and finally finds himself fulfilled, only to die? What tragedy! Was it the whisper of the feminine, that Eve-like pull, which dragged him from Eden? Was the paradise where Bobby found himself to begin with real? Tragedy tugs at the heart, never yielding, because there's no resolution; it's as if, without resolution, the ending is blurry without detail, never properly comprehended. Unlike happily-ever-after endings, the tragedy leaves its threads untied and liable to fraying. What we mourn and pity is the potential: what was Bobby's future to be like; could he have gotten the girl; was he to become the greatest racer Japan has ever known - a name to be heralded in racing through the ages? We'll never know. And neither will the caller at the end of the line.
And as Bobby sees these motorbikes speeding over the dirt track before him, he sees they all wearing "Bobby's" written upon their leathers. Bobby met his father, and now he meets his people; a small village lives here in the hills where they race bikes - teams of mechanics and racers congregate, all under the moniker "Bobby's". Bobby has found his people! He's left the world of herbivores and met carnivorous cousins who he understands. Bobby, stunned by what he's seen, looks up to his boss; his boss tells him, "Bobby - I'm going to make a champion of you". The suns light is blinding.
Having just found his tribe, his family, a faint whisper plays in his head: "remember to phone me at 10PM". Today was Bobby's Girl's birthday. Bobby, now knowing the route to meet his people, heads back home to catch the phone. The road home is long - it's been a long journey to find his people - and the searing summer sun begins to set. I'll take a moment to say that the animation is beautiful; never have I seen animated backgrounds on road journeys done so fluidly. Bobby racing home to hear the dulcet voice of his girl enters into a clear state of bliss - smooth sketches take over from painted cel in animating his ride, as the 80s pop plays loud enough to mask the sounds of his motorbike.
Then a hatchback pulls out into the road; Bobby doesn't notice, and in doging swerves over the railing off the cliff edge. We're left with a shot of a distorted room; the phone ringing without cease, waiting to be picked up. What an empty end to a triumphant film; Bobby's discovery was the beginning, no? the beginning of his new life? Bobby enters his manly paradise, and finally finds himself fulfilled, only to die? What tragedy! Was it the whisper of the feminine, that Eve-like pull, which dragged him from Eden? Was the paradise where Bobby found himself to begin with real? Tragedy tugs at the heart, never yielding, because there's no resolution; it's as if, without resolution, the ending is blurry without detail, never properly comprehended. Unlike happily-ever-after endings, the tragedy leaves its threads untied and liable to fraying. What we mourn and pity is the potential: what was Bobby's future to be like; could he have gotten the girl; was he to become the greatest racer Japan has ever known - a name to be heralded in racing through the ages? We'll never know. And neither will the caller at the end of the line.