Finding Sentiment in Silence: The Brilliance and Wisdom of The Red Turtle.

I could not have picked a better film or subject to write about for my 30th post (hold for collective cheer): The Red Turtle (TRT), or La Tortue Rouge (2016), a stunningly beautiful animation directed by Michael De Wit. I have written about animation twice already. I mean, I love it. That’s no surprise. This, however, is the first silent animation I’m writing about. I am compelled to write about this film because its story, beauty and meaning would bring a tear to your eye. I am going to try to figure out how it manages to achieve this without the influence of actors or dialogue.

Like maths, silence is a universal language, but it is a very individual one. I could watch this film in a room of ten people and each could take a unique perspective. This already makes the film special. As a viewer, you really do get a unique perspective and meaning to take away with you. That is something personal and unique that you can take away and keep with you forever.

In saying this, silent film is probably the most niche film genre there is. Even the most pompous film buff struggles to get through a feature-length silent film. As I said, the more pompous fans won’t admit this, but I don’t think this is something to be embarrassed about. It can be a trying experience and understandably so. It is hard to stay engaged with something with no sound; even the earliest silent films inserted text to keep their viewer engaged. TRT doesn’t use text, just visuals, so it has an even harder job to keep us engaged as viewers.

As humans, we are bored easily and have to be kept basically constantly entertained and engaged. This is what the plot is all about and other particular techniques, such as plot twists, are used to keep us connected with the film because writers and producers know our minds would drift if we are not kept engaged. So how can a modern silent film say so much by saying nothing at all?

TRT is one of Studio Ghibli’s lesser-known features. This is because it does not have the obvious visual or narrative trademarks of a Ghibli classic. Of course, being an animation and a silent one at that, it has given itself an even more difficult job. Many films of the art-house genre are relatively silent, so they rely heavily on performance. Art house is often where actors prove their craft and win some of acting's most coveted accolades. Any animated face or body cannot give the same responses or evoke the same emotional response as a person. So, without dialogue and performance, you will have to rely on something else to evoke something within the viewer.

I have mentioned symbolism in animation before, particularly in Ghibli films, but this film goes further than the classic symbolistic structure. Ghibli is the master of symbolism. I have mentioned it in a few posts now. Japanese culture, in particular Japanese folklore and storytelling, uses symbolism a lot. That is why when you watch a Ghibli film, you can find and see meaning everywhere you look. Visuals replace words. The most common example I have mentioned before is the presence of a cherry blossom meaning death. It isn’t just anime or Japanese cinema that uses symbolism. A lot of art-house cinema uses symbolism, but most commonly alongside traditional dialogue. Perhaps herein lies the success of TRT. Maybe both together clash and meaning becomes lost or confusing.

TRT is less of a film and more of an experience, one that is so incredibly moving and filled with so much meaning. This film is special and why I believe it works so well is because its symbolism is so subtle that you don’t even know what’s happening as you watch it; you don’t even know this beautiful tale about being alive and being human is playing right before your eyes because it is happening in such a quiet and gentle manner. The film uses small scenes that tell a much larger story. I will use an example from the film. At one point, two characters must swim through a narrow tunnel to live. They don’t know what’s on the other side, but they must take the risk. Initially, this seems like the film's action to a viewer, but when you look at it on a deeper level, it goes beyond the visible struggle. It is saying something profound about life. This film is made up of these small moments and while you don’t realise the depth of their meaning at the time, you feel all of the meaning by the end of the film and it is overwhelming. It's so emotional. This is how it can say so much.

When you see a turtle, that already brings a huge history and a meaning with it. They represent wisdom, perseverance, protection, transformation, to name a few. So without even knowing, a viewer is already set up with a background of meaning that they can pull from to understand better and appreciate the film. In that one image of a turtle, so much has already been said.

I have written about anime before, but never a silent one. It just seemed like too great a challenge for me. And to make one also seems like a challenge too great for a filmmaker. For TRT, it really wasn’t. The whole film has an air of ease and effortlessness about it. Such simple and quiet moments of challenge and struggle bring about bigger and incredibly complex questions about life, growing up and the human condition.

I set out trying to understand how TRT managed to create such an emotive response with such a muted, simple and silent story. I presumed I would find that it achieved this as all Ghibli films do, but TRT goes beyond symbolism. It actually simplifies symbolism and slowly reveals an incredibly deep and meaningful story throughout the duration of the film. TRT says everything while saying absolutely nothing.