Hayao Miyazaki’s Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind was first released on March 11, 1984.
After the heavily re-written and edited 1985 release of this film in the United States and Europe (as “Warriors of the Wind”), which substantially changed the movie in addition to cutting nearly 25 minutes of footage, Hayao Miyazaki was hesitant to release any of his films outside of Japan. Miyazaki demanded that any new licencor for his films be contractually bound to do no edits whatsoever aside from a straight translation and dub. Disney (who bought the rights to all of Miyazaki’s films except The Castle of Cagliostro (1979)) has honored this stipulation. (x)
When a movie comes out in Japan, promotional stills are created before the film is even completed. Often these include alternate takes that differ from the final material or even depict unique scenes which never made it into the film at all. Cagliostro is no different! With a movie this old, though, the source for some of these stills has aged and has required some restoration.
When the source is from a film or slides, color aberrations and shifts like this are the norm in older material. The blue will become green, skintones might become more red, and in the end they require hue adjustments to correct. You can also see some deterioration that needed to be cleaned up. Using the official film program from the original 1979 release, though, we’ve been able to match the original colors very closely. We’ll be showing more of this stills soon and talk about some of them specifically.
For now, here’s some before and afters of stuff that’s not even in the movie!
Dear Bryke, You Are Not a Reflection Of Your Father
“When I was a little kid, I had very few shows to look to with brown girls like me and none with queer characters (and maybe that’s part of the reason why it took me so long to come out). Now, not only does this representation exist, but it has just been acknowledged as intentional, valid, and beautiful by its creators.
I can’t exactly articulate how Avatar the Last Airbender and Legend of Korra originally became such important shows in my life, but I can now tell you why it will remain one of the shows most dear to my heart. And for that Mike and Bryan, I want to thank you. "
Every Avatar fan remembers this first iconic image of Korra released in the summer of 2010. Announced as the “sequel series” to the beloved Avatar: The Last Airbender,The Legend of Korra promised not only a “strong, hot-headed heroine” but a new, modernized world in the form of Republic City. Three years later, after the series finale was released, many news outlets praised Korra, as one of the most historically significant animated series in American television, for their confirmation of a queer relationship between the title character Korra and her longtime female friend Asami Sato, known more affectionally within the fandom community as “Korrasami.” As one of the first academic writers following this series from its inception in 2012 (focused on queer fandom communities of all things), I should have been ecstatic, and yet, it has taken nearly two months for me to structure this more personally-driven essay about a show that infuriated me nearly as much as it inspired me with hope for the future of children’s media.
Originally, this essay focused solely on the fans and ignored the creators, who I have often criticized for their use of at-times-questionable culturally-appropriated material, casting practices of white voice actors for POC characters, and reductionist approach to complex political ideologies. I have often defended and highlighted the Korra fandom as the silver lining of a particularly problematic series, and whose community helped create a space of intersectionality, subversion, and exploration of queer identities. But as I sat down to gather my research, following the finale, reading and watching fan reaction after fan reaction, there was no way to ignore the overwhelming consensus of “Thank you, Bryke!” from the fans.
At first I was frustrated. The fans had made Korrasami canon. They had created a large enough demographic that the Viacom network executives felt safe putting this “progressive” ending out on the airwaves. But as another one of my colleagues pointed out, Bryke (the fandom-assigned name for the creators Bryan Konietzko and Michael DiMartino) are the ones who created the media that the fans consume, and thus I can’t completely remove them the equation. So with a huge breath, I dove into my obligatory re-watch of both series, keeping an open mind about the symbiotic relationship between the fans and the creators. And after a long revision of my original outline I’ve decided to focus this essay around the most important love triangle of the series - Bryke, Korra, and the Fans.