Debut: Jazz And Animation Transcend Language In ‘PRIME’
Nostalgia radiates through the hundreds of frames that make up PRIME, a music video directed by Hoji Tsuchiya for experimental jazz artist Tomoaki Baba. This wholly original work embodies Baba’s flair for uniqueness, cleverly subverting expectations of what a music video is capable of. With no dialogue, the short relies on an otherworldly combination of handcrafted paper stop-motion animation and the fluidity of Baba’s melody to do the talking.
The narrative follows a police officer investigating a series of mysterious disappearances in his community. Each missing person oddly leaves behind the entirety of their clothing, which lies barren in the dead of night. Amidst this calamity, audiences meet a newscaster whose cavernous, malformed mouth dominates the majority of his face; two locals drinking beer and playing chess in front of a run-down gas station; and even amongst the already heightened eccentricity, a suspect who stands out from the rest: a maniacal, chainsaw-wielding man whose bulging, bloodshot eyes threaten to pop out of their sockets. His character design aids his efforts in consistently breaking the fourth wall; his eyes glare directly into the lens, piercing through the screen and intensifying the horror elements of the short.
Matching the tone of Baba’s individualistic track “PRIME,” the music video subverts itself entirely with a twist ending. The police officer, along with the rest of the oddball ensemble, vanishes into the night sky, where they are thrust into the moon by an unknown force. As they rise, they distort into ghost-like figures, with their spirits eventually forming craters on the lunar surface. Though completely unexpected, the ending acutely harmonizes with Baba’s tune, playing heavily into the constantly evolving state of jazz.
Baba, a Japanese saxophonist, producer, and composer, included “PRIME” on his recent album ELECTRIC RIDER. His decision to pair the song with what is essentially a short film was brilliant. By interweaving Tsuchiya’s painstakingly handcrafted visuals with Baba’s aural work, the synthesis of the two adds a deep complexity to the experience.
Although stylistically different, parallels can be drawn between PRIME and Daft Punk’s album Discovery, which also produced a visual counterpart: Interstella 5555: The 5tory of the 5ecret 5tar 5ystem. Both Interstella and PRIME enhance and dive deep into dialogue-free music, brilliantly building vivid realms based solely upon sound. They both feature extraterrestrial elements, speaking to music’s capabilities in transcending language and telling stories without the need for words.
PRIME delivers everything one could desire in a music video. The added layer of complexity, with the video speaking on behalf of the melody, was a risk. Without lyrics to build a narrative, Tsuchiya had to cultivate a cinematic world from scratch and create a visual language out of Baba’s intricate harmonies. The animation’s pacing syncs perfectly with the music, rising and falling together until the penultimate climax, when both narrative and melody reach a fever pitch.
If PRIME evokes a singular emotion, it is nostalgia. The visuals, which are innovative, fresh, and captivating, are reason enough to tune in. Fans of LAIKA Studios, known for features like Coraline and ParaNorman, will find plenty to enjoy in the short, which feels like a distant, slightly more mature relative of the studio’s works. The nostalgia bleeds through the neon-lit nights, which are somehow hauntingly familiar, while also forcing audiences to stay on their toes, especially with the out-of-the-box ending.
The film is rough around the edges, but with intention. Visible strings float through the frame attached to intricately designed paper crafts, faces are asymmetrical, circles are imperfect, but all of this works in tandem to enhance the character of the film. In just four minutes, PRIME establishes a compelling narrative, solves a quirky mystery, and leaves audiences with a new one to contemplate. It is unlike any other piece of media, which is exactly why it deserves to be seen by a wider audience.
Evading categorization or any semblance of the status quo, the short finds its strength in the lack of dialogue. Incapable of simply being put into words, the short’s visual realm is unable to be described. Only upon viewing will one fully grasp the singularity that is PRIME.