A man who appears every 700 years. Stretching before the man's eyes the world rusted away to monochrome and gray. Once before the town flourished that is now in ruins. The man now, has a chance meeting with a person, a prositute. A story of passion curling like smoke....Tairosu Tomah's story has begun. (Source: Animenfo)
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If you've heard of Yoshitaka Amano or if you've seen some of his artwork elsewhere (and you likely have), you probably have an idea that Fantascope Tylostoma invites you to an artsy, experimental, uncommon viewing. Particularly in an age where fluid movement and colorful palettes are some of the main characteristics of a praised or popular show, we are just not used to an anime that is visually told the way Fantascope Tylostoma is: highly stylized monochrome paintings accompanied by narration. I don't think a modern viewer can be entirely blamed for finding something like this OVA "boring" or just "weird". To some, that willbe the nail in the coffin. But others might be willing to give it a try, and embrace this unusual journey. This story uses the narrative device of "Story within a story". The narrator tells us the myth of the immortal Man who appears every 700 years, and the mysterious Man tells a joyful prostitute he meets his own story of how he came to be that way. There is some interesting playing of this device, but I will not spoil it for you. The meaning of the title is the first thing explained, and is a thread all too interesting to follow; I was immediately intrigued and this feeling remained for the entirety of the episode. As perhaps it's expected from an experimental movie so tied to its visuals, not every character action and not every thought is clear. The narration functions as a fine anchor and although its presence is a tad excessive sometimes, its existence is thoroughly justified: Fantascope feels very much like a tale, told verbally to you by someone else. As for the characters. As I want this to be a spoiler-free review, I'll try being brief about this point. The (few) characters are appropriate for the setting they're in, and I think they're well-done for such a short story. The Man is a jaded and taciturn person, but he also doesn't shy away from telling his story, and to share his past actions (not all sympathetic, by the way). It would've been easy to have him be a distant, alien-like voyager, and I thought interesting that he's a more approachable protagonist and generous narrator than one might think. The prostitute who takes an interest in The Man is a charming character, and has some great lines of dialogue and an interesting form of enunciation that I talk more about below. The Goddess in the Cave is what you expect from a divine character: uncanny, passionate, and hard to fully grasp. There isn't much in the way of character development, not only because of the running time, but also due to the very nature of this being a "legend" of sorts; in those, the tale and setting tend to override the characters and their psychological aspect. The art is an imperative aspect of Fantascope, and any other artist would make of this an entirely different thing. Liking an art style or not is of course subjective, but Yoshitaka Amano's flowy lines and his ghostly, otherworldly characters so perfectly fit the post-apocalyptic and wavering gray setting, that it's hard to dispute its efficiency in introducing us to this world and the characters in it. The subtle movement of hair and water in static scenes were some of my favorite details to catch while watching the episode. Another interesting point that I mentioned by passing above is the voice acting. I do not know if this was an artistic choice or a matter of budget, but the characters' voices in this OVA don't seem to come from trained or experienced voice actors; they feel bare, like real people talking. It's something I've seen used in "down to earth" anime movies (the adult segments of Ghibli's Only Yesterday come to mind), but in fantasy is rarer. It's a positive stand-out in my opinion, and it adds to the aura of mystery and unorthodoxy. Honestly, I too was expecting no more than 30 mins of an out-of-my-comfort-zone experience, and was ready for a healthy amount of boredom, but Fantascope was actually quite enthralling to me. I'm not sure if it's a gem of storytelling or a must-watch for obscure OVA's. It's a fairly simple story (with its layers of complexity being open for interpretation), but it competently sets its atmosphere and aesthetic and maintains it firmly to the end. It'll probably give you, at least, an interesting half hour of entertainment.
Fantascope: Tylostoma 2006 by Amano Yoshitaka, I once found myself utterly mesmerized by a work of art—its presence seized my thoughts and captivated my very essence. It was a moment of pure enchantment, one that transcended mere aesthetic beauty; it was the profound depth of its artistry that left me spellbound. When I later discovered it had been added to MAL, I realized that I had fallen in love with it, not for its external allure, but for the profound beauty it conveyed. Yet, this experience also reminded me of the wondrous truth: every soul perceives and judges art through their own unique lens, revealing theinfinite variations in how beauty and meaning are understood. TL;DR:/ An unforgettable OVA artwork experience, condensed into a mere ±30 minutes, yet leaving an indelible mark on the mind and soul. Fantascope is visually stunning, with an avant-garde, almost dreamlike quality to its animation. The way the film conveys its themes through its striking visual style adds to its existential weight, creating an immersive experience. more abstract and existential, dealing with memory, self-perception, and the relentless passage of time. It appeals to those who enjoy films that challenge reflection engagement and provoke deep thought. Fantascope delivers a slow-burn emotional impact, drawing the viewer in with its haunting atmosphere and quiet realizations about life’s fragility. Its themes of inevitable loss and the passage of time can leave the viewer with a lingering, often unsettling sense of the impermanence of life. --- Minor Spoiler ---- <i>“There is not a particle of life which does not bear poetry within it”.</i> <b>Fantascope: ‘Tylostoma’</b> is a deeply introspective work, exploring the complexities of perception, identity, and the haunting nature of memory. The narrative moves through surreal landscapes, where reality itself begins to fracture, symbolizing the fragility of the human psyche when faced with both personal and existential crises. Philosophically, it delves into the subjective nature of existence, questioning how much of our reality is shaped by the mind and the illusions we create to navigate the world. It confronts the viewer with the dissonance between one's inner world and the external forces that shape us, portraying the isolation that arises from these conflicts. The emotional climax is devastating in its depth, unravels the fragile emotional states of the characters, culminating in a profound realization that the quest for self-understanding may ultimately be futile. The destruction of their internal worlds, and the acceptance of this irreversibility, strikes with an emotional weight that reverberates long after the story ends. It is a tragic meditation on human limitations, the pursuit of truth, and the irreversible passage of time, leaving the audience with a lingering sense of melancholy and existential desolation. <b>Fantascope: ‘Tylostoma’</b> unfolds in a realm where the boundaries of reality and illusion blur into one ethereal tapestry. In its brief but evocative span, it crafts an atmosphere that is nothing short of sublime—each moment delicately woven into the fabric of existence with an exquisite, almost intangible elegance. Through haunting visuals and introspective soundscapes, the narrative navigates the contours of perception and identity, casting an elegiac glow over the fleeting nature of time and memory. Combination beautiful of philosophical introspection and emotional devastation in Fantascope, creates an experience that is both stimulating profoundly moving and emotionally shattering. The artistry of <b>Fantascope: Tylostoma</b> is resplendent in its intricate beauty, enveloping in a quiet grandeur, where each frame seems to evoke an essence far deeper than the visual, but the very essence of human fragility. The delicate interplay between light and shadow mirrors the emotional tensions of the characters, whose internal landscapes are as vast and tumultuous as the external world they inhabit. <i>"You must write for yourself, above all. That is your only hope of creating something beautiful."</i> , <i>“The art of writing is the art of discovering what you believe.”</i> — Gustave Flaubert As the OVA, the emotional weight of its conclusion unfolds with a devastating, yet graceful inevitability. The realization of existential truth strikes not with a violent crescendo but with a quiet, profound resignation, leaving an indelible mark on the heart and mind. In its mastery of both visual and emotional storytelling, serves a meditation on the human condition—its beauty, its pain, and its inescapable transience—rendered with the rarefied elegance of a work that transcends time. <center>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</center> "the advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys several times the same good things for the first time." Nietzsche's reflection on memory invites a fascinating paradox when applied to <b>Fantascope: Tylostoma.</b> While fleeting memory amplifies the joy of rediscovery, the unstoppable cascade of recollections in eternal memory reshapes this dynamic. In Fantascope, memory takes on an almost sentient role—an intricate, monochrome painting where each brushstroke represents moments lost and found. The visual artistry mirrors this theme, weaving shadows and light into a hauntingly beautiful tapestry. As memories deepen and blur, the brilliance of singular moments dissolves, leaving existence adrift in echoes of bygone days. The narrative unfolds like an elegy—carefully navigating the themes of identity, perception, and the fragile boundary between reality and illusion. Its philosophical depth lies in the inquiry of how much life is shaped by memory and how the endless repetition of experiences can erode their meaning. With its avant-garde visual style and introspective soundscape, Fantascope: Tylostoma offers an emotionally devastating experience while intellectually stimulating with profound grace. Its exploration of human fragility and the relentless passage of time lingers long after the final frame fades. <center>-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</center> "the advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys several times the same good things for the first time." — Friedrich Nietzsche. The quote by ‘Nietzsche’ about the advantage of a bad memory, allowing one to relive the joy of experiences multiple times, becomes a fascinating paradox when applied to the idea of Fantascope: Tylostoma and the concept of eternal memory, like that of the character Emanon. If we consider a memory that stretches over 700 years, like Emanon’s, it invites us to think about the complexities of memory itself. On one hand, Nietzsche's quote suggests that a limited memory can heighten enjoyment, as the novelty of each moment is felt again and again. However, when faced with an infinite memory, one might question whether the constant recollection of the past would provide the same delight. Would it be a gift or a curse? with unstoppable cascade of recollections, moves through existence like a monochrome painting—each memory a brushstroke in a hauntingly beautiful palette of shadows and light. Her infinite awareness casts a spectral glow, where joy and sorrow intertwine, muted yet vivid in their juxtaposition. As the hues of her memories deepen and blur, the brilliance of singular moments fades into the canvas of eternity, leaving her adrift in a world where the colors of the present are forever veiled by the shades of the echoes of bygone days. in imagining a memory that never fades, like Emanon’s, we see both the beauty of an immortal perspective and the inherent limitations of human experience. The advantage of a "bad" memory, as Nietzsche put it, lies in the fleeting nature of joy — that it cannot be revisited endlessly without losing its impact. But with eternal memory, the repetition might bring an unsettling realization: that what was once vibrant and alive may become a mere shadow of its former self, lost in an ocean of unending recollections. “You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche. Nietzsche’s observation invites a fascinating paradox when applied to the concept of eternal memory, as seen in Fantascope: Tylostoma or embodied in the character Emanon. While a fleeting memory heightens the joy of rediscovery, an unstoppable cascade of recollections may transform moments of brilliance into muted shadows over time. <b>Fantascope: ‘Tylostoma’</b> journey through existence, like a monochrome painting, unfolds in haunting brushstrokes of light and shadow. Her infinite awareness, beautiful yet burdened, intertwines joy and sorrow in a spectral dance. The weight of endless memories dulls the sharpness of the present, leaving her adrift in echoes of bygone days, where the vibrancy of life fades into a melancholic canvas of eternity. As Nietzsche also mused, “You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.” Yet, in the vast ocean of unending recollections, perhaps the chaos of forgetting is the true spark of creation, allowing what is transient to shine with undimmed brilliance. <i>An unforgettable OVA artwork experience, condensed into a mere ±30 minutes, yet leaving an indelible mark on the mind and soul.</i> [Shorts] Might you also liked too these works : <b>Tsumiki no Ie</b> (La Maison en Petits Cubes) 2008 <i>by Katou, Kunio</i> — "In its deceptively simple yet profoundly evocative painterly approach, each frame transcends mere image, becoming a poignant work of art, infused with deep emotional resonance." <b>Michi Movie</b> <i>by Murata, Tomoyasu</i> — "With its minimalist, symbolic animation, the film offers a meditative space for reflection, inviting the viewer to embark on a quiet yet profound journey of personal and spiritual exploration." Thankya for reading.
