Beetle Queen Conquers
Tokyo examines the insect world from
humanity’s point of view, focusing specifically on the world-view and behaviors
of insect collectors in Tokyo. Jason Solomon of The Observer states, “It
speaks of harmony, nature and the national culture, touching on the
quintessentially Japanese philosophical notion of Mono no aware (and I hope
I’ve got this right): a feeling of gentle sadness experienced at the inevitable
fading of transient beauty.” In Beetle Queen various experts commenting
on Japanese culture make specific comparisons between insects and human characteristics
on multiple levels.
Despite references to the
monster movie Mothra (1961), Beetle
Queen goes beyond merely evoking emotions by humanizing insects of various
species. The unequivocal comparison between the human and insect worlds
promotes positive results in the film, encouraging a more interconnected
relationship between humans and their environment that may manifest in real
environmental preservation and restoration for both humans’ and nature’s
benefit, at least within the parameters of the film. As Beetle Queen’s
director, Jessica Oreck explains in Don’t Panic Magazine, “I want to
share the immediacy of nature––not the idealized, simplified, and anonymous
version we see in nature programs on TV, but a nature populated with human
characters and personal connections” (Mokoena).
The presentation of Japanese
philosophy and aesthetics highlights the interaction between culture and nature
signified by this love of insects. It also demonstrates anthropomorphism on the
level of traits and dispositions, emotions and social roles. According to the
film, Haiku from the seventeenth century highlights a Japanese aesthetic of
nature that encourages this love of captive beetles and crickets. A poem about
dragonflies accompanying an image of a mechanized dragonfly reinforces the
narrator’s claim: “Poetry eternally captures mundane reality. Haiku, like
nature, is about transience, creating an intimate relationship with nature
without intermediaries. Man is nature.” Night views of the city look like
poetry. We see fighting beetles in a video game, on a crowded street, and in a
mall. The narrator even assigns specific human traits to the insects to
emphasize humanity’s connection with the natural world: “A dragonfly is the
emblem of strength, courage, and bravery …. Fireflies are unrequited love.” Workers
wearing illuminated vests look like fireflies and underline the message.
As the film portrays it, the
devotion to nature inspired by Japanese philosophy, aesthetics, and connection
to insects moves beyond a surface belief system to actions that conserve and
replenish the natural environment. Because, as narrator Takeshi Yoro tells us,
rice paddies are good for dragonflies, their disappearance was detrimental to
both dragonflies and human culture. With less need for rice fields to feed
people, rice paddies turned into cities, but the narrator explains, this loss
motivated the Japanese to begin preserving streams and ponds around the city,
rejuvenating the environment and community for national pride. “We learn from
insects,” he explains. “If we open our minds to the insects, they will teach
us. To learn is to change, so insects are more than pets. They represent an
entire culture.”
As the sun rises over the water, Takeshi Yorro highlights the
interconnected relationship humans share with the insects and their natural
world: “Observing change in insects connects with changes in nature. Their
numbers are much fewer now, because the world is being destroyed.” By
illuminating connections between humans and nature based on dispositions,
emotions, roles, and philosophies of Buddhism and Shintoism, Beetle Queen
Conquers Tokyo seeks to demonstrate how anthropomorphism may have positive
results for both human and nonhuman nature.
