Review: Fritz the Cat

I still have a couple of more posts about America to put up, but things are happening here in Japan in the meantime that I don`t want to leave too long to write about so here`s one of them!

It was around this time last year that I went to the Kanazawa Horror Film Festival where I saw The Cool World, and I was surprised this year that I hadn`t seen any posters up for it, so I looked up the Film Festival website to see what was happening. To my surprise, this year`s festival wasn`t horror but erotica! I had a look at the programme which had the films grouped into different categories like animation, horror, films focussing on erotica in showbusiness etc, but the main focus of the event was a retrospective of Christina Lindberg, a Swedish softcore porn actress of seventies fame who shot a few pink films in Japan. Her film Thriller: a Cruel Picture was an inspiration for Tarantino`s Kill Bill. I had originally wanted to see Extasy; a 1933 european film starring Hedy Lamarr that was banned in the United States but that also got Lamarr noticed by Hollywood for her subsequent film career. But unfortunately I couldn`t go at the time it was being shown and it was also not in English.

I did however get to see three films in the festival. The first was Showgirls (1995) with Elizabeth Berkeley (of Saved by the Bell fame) and Kyle MacLachlan (Blue Velvet, Twin Peaks). This apparently caused quite a stir on its release for the amount of nudity in it, as Berkley spends about a sixth of the film completely nude, but I had never heard of it. The reason I went to this film was because it was the opening screening of the festival, and not only was it free but it was being shown outdoors! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, there was a free outdoor screening of an erotic movie. Only in Japan. I hadn`t realised, but Christina Lindberg herself was the special guest at the festival and she gave a short speech at the beginning where she talked about coming to Japan for her films in the seventies and apparently her film Sex and Fury was partly set in Kanazawa. Not only that, but a girl also performed a pole dance before the film started. It was quite impressive. The film itself was pretty dire, if it was on television I wouldn`t have watched it all the way through, but as with most bad movies, it was quite fun to watch it with a group of people and many a belly laugh was had. It was quite a strange experience.

I also went to The Night Porter, and though it`s not the kind of film you can say you enjoyed, I`m definitely on the side of people who think its a good film. Although some of the plot was silly or confusing, I thought the acting was great and it really made me wonder how anyone who has been through something as horrific as a concentration camp can function normally in society afterwards.

The other film I saw was Fritz the Cat, an animated 1972 satire of the swinging sixties that became the first animated film to receive an X rating. Despite this, it’s tame by modern standards compared to some cartoon shows today like Drawn Together and Family Guy. Because of its rating, when it was released it didn`t have a very wide distribution, and so its distributors, who specialised in exploitation films, promoted its more controversial aspects. It’s about the hypocrisy of the sixties, especially that of the radical youth who want to change the world but who don`t know anything about it, and who say they’re looking for truth when really they’re just looking for drugs and sex. The cartoonist who created Fritz the Cat, Robert Crumb, wasn’t happy with how the film turned out because he thought it had too bleak an outlook, which is strange considering he was a pretty cynical individual.

The story is taken from the comic strips Fritz the Cat, Fritz Bugs Out and Fritz the No-Good as well as some original ideas of Bakshi. The plot is a bit of a mish-mash because of this, but it doesn`t really matter, because it`s the characters that drive the story. Fritz is a naive student who has a lot of ideas about life that he doesn`t understand. He`s not a bad guy, he`s just a phony. He wants free love, drugs and revolution, and in his quest for these he meets a lot of interesting characters, most of which are terribly politically incorrect – crows from Harlem, pig policemen, a Nazi rabbit. I suppose some people might take offence from the blatant stereotyping, but the point of it is to poke fun at racists and people who take themselves very seriously.

Most of the voices in it weren`t done by professional actors or even recorded professionally. This makes it difficult at times to hear what`s being said (in the part with the rabbis, I wasn`t sure if they were speaking English or not), but it does give it a strange documentary-like ‘realness’ in the midst of the surreal madness of the imagery. Most of the conversations you hear in passing were actual conversations that Bakshi recorded with construction workers, black guys from Harlem and his Jewish relatives. The soundtrack itself is great too, and there`s an unexpected intermission where a crow jives to Bo Diddley as the next scene slowly appears as a screen in the distance getting closer.

The animation combines Crumb`s two-dimensional style of the characters with a more painterly approach to the backgrounds. The backgrounds are often skewed and don`t adhere to fixed rules of perception depending on what character is experiencing it. This is to be expected in the drug scenes, but one that shows the death of the crow Duke in a riot through the imagery of billiard balls is pretty affecting. There`s also a beautiful collage-style scene through a dump in Harlem to the sound of Billie Holliday`s Yesterdays where we see broken bottles and syringes mixed with cast-away personal items like photographs. Bakshi highlights the problems of the civil rights era through his seemingly insensitive caricatures because he doesn`t glorify the people who have it rough, nor the university-educated, middle-class students who are aware of the problems in society without understanding them. I suppose this resonates with me because I am one of the latter.

“All you cats the same, man. You don’t know where it is. There’s nobody to tell you where it’s at. And you come up here, try to find out where it’s at… but you got to be up here, man, to find out what’s happening.”
“I know it isn’t a ball, man. I studied the race problems. I know.”
“You don’t know nothing about the race problem. Got to be a crow to know about the race problem. You know what I mean? Do you dig where I’m at? You know what I’m talking about?”
“Man, this thing affects me very deeply, fella. As a cat, I have a considerable guilt complex… because my kind have always brought suffering on your kind. Yes, indeed, my soul is tortured and tormented by this racial crisis.”
“No shit?”

Pretty much the entire film is quotable, but this is Fritz`s soliloquy where he ponders his existence.

“Bastards… you’d think the goddamn exams was the be-all and end-all of existence… the cosmic life-force or somethin’. Can’t even say a few decent words to a guy… the bastards… What a bore… they just sit there and take bennies an’ stay up all night with their face stuck in a bunch of books an’ their thumb up their ass… Yes… yes… I remember the time when it was all very inspiring and enlightening… all this history and literature and sociology shit… You think learning is a really big thing an’ you become this big fuckin’ intellectual and sit around tryin’ to out-intellectual all the other big fuckin’ intellectuals… you spend years and years with your nose buried in these goddamn tomes while out there the world is passin’ you by… and all the stuff to see and all th’ kicks an’ girls are all out there… an’ ME, a writer and a poet who should be havin’ adventures an’ experiencing all the diversities and paradoxes and ironies of life and passin’ over all the roads of the world and digging all the cities and towns and rives and oceans… and making all them chicks!
As a writer and poet it is my duty to get out there and dig the world… to swing with the whole friggin’ scene while there’s still time!
My farting around days are over! From this day on I shall live every day as if it were my last! Yes! Yes! I must do it! No more the dreary boring classes, the dismal lectures, the sitting around bullshitting with pretentious fat-assed hippies, no more the books, the spoutings of a bunch of old farts who think they know the whole goddamn score!
Oh God! What have I done? I’ve set all my notes and books and stuff on fire and now I can’t study for my exams… I’ll flunk out and my folks’ll be pissed off as hell… I’ll get a blanket… the blanket’s on fire. We’d better call the fire department.”


Our original plan for getting to Memphis was to rent a car and road trip it down via St Louis, but it was the night before we were going to leave and we were only just looking up car rental companies. It was quite expensive to rent a car for a one way trip and it would have been very draining for Liz to have driven for nine hours. We decided in the end, for the sake of our sanity, to fly to Nashville, pick up a rental car there and do a round trip from there to Memphis. It worked out about the same price and the same length of time travelling (we had to fly via New Orleans), but at least Liz was spared so much driving. I was no help anyway, because I can’t drive.

If The Blues Brothers is the film I associate with Chicago, Mystery Train is what I associate with Memphis. I sent it to my Dad, a big Blues fan, for Christmas without having seen it, and then I stole it back off him so that I could watch it before I went to Memphis. It was great to watch it again when I came back and I was able to recognise so much of it. It’s in three parts and my favourite is the first part with the young Japanese couple who are travelling around the South on a Blues trail.

We arrived in Memphis in the evening, checked into our hotel, freshened up and headed out to Beale St. We wandered up and down it for a while as the sun set and the neon signs were switched on. We had a dinner of ribs that put us in a food coma, and we were wondering how long we’d be able to last that night, but we wanted to check out some of the live music so we went to see Dr Feelgood Potts and his band. They were really good and their bassist was a woman from Osaka, who Potts introduced as the Ice Lady because she was so deadpan. It was a Monday night, so really the only people who were out on Beale St were tourists like ourselves so we ended up hanging out with some cool people from England, Wales and some Americans who were actually living in Japan on a military base. It was a long and fun night and luckily our hotel was just around the corner so we didn’t have far to go when it was over.

We were somewhat the worse for wear the next morning, but we had a full day of stuff to do ahead of us so we got up reasonably early and went for breakfast at the Blue Plate Cafe. Liz got biscuits and gravy so I was able to sample that staple of Southern cuisine, and I got a waffle that was topped with a ridiculous mountain of cream. I scraped most of it off and when the waitress took our plates away she asked me if I didn’t like cream.

Because this was the only time on our trip that we had to stay in a hotel, we had treated ourselves to night in the Peabody, the most famous hotel in Memphis. It was pretty swanky and we also got to see the famous Peabody duck procession in the morning before we left. By night the ducks live on the roof of the hotel, by day they swim in the lobby fountain, and are brought to and from these places in an elevator by a special Duckmaster twice a day.

Back in the 1930s Frank Schutt, General Manager of The Peabody, and a friend, Chip Barwick, returned from a weekend hunting trip to Arkansas. The men had a little too much Jack Daniel’s Tennessee sippin’ whiskey, and thought it would be funny to place some of their live duck decoys (it was legal then for hunters to use live decoys) in the beautiful Peabody fountain.
Three small English call ducks were selected as “guinea pigs,” and the reaction was nothing short of enthusiastic. Soon, five North American Mallard ducks would replace the original ducks.
In 1940, Bellman Edward Pembroke, a former circus animal trainer, offered to help with delivering the ducks to the fountain each day and taught them the now-famous Peabody Duck March. Mr. Pembroke became the Peabody Duckmaster, serving in that capacity for 50 years until his retirement in 1991.
The original ducks have long since gone, but after nearly 80 years, the marble fountain in the hotel lobby is still graced with ducks. The Peabody ducks march at 11 a.m. and 5 p.m. daily.

I wish we had a little more time in Memphis, as we didn`t even have time to walk down the street to the Mississippi river or cross over into Arkansas, but after breakfast we had to get going on our Elvis adventure, which I`ll write about next. We were in Memphis for less than 24 hours, but it surely was a memorable trip.

Don’t put that thing on me, cos I’m going back to Tennessee.