ZephSilver

Furiko (Pendulum) is a rather pleasant gem. It's an anime short that manages to capture and invoke emotions in its viewers that's sometimes unattainable by the likes of 20 minute episode series. Where many fail it succeeded with elegance and modesty. It immerses you into the lives of a couple in an authentic way. It doesn't force itself upon the viewer but gently glides into focus. And with its simplistic flip-book inspired visuals and accompanying somber musical backing, it's able to tell a coherent story that's woven together beautifully. This is a short tale that leaves an awe inspiring message to any viewer invested intoit, no matter your background or demographic. It shows the bittersweet flow of time through the guise of a swinging pendulum. Striped of any unnecessary elements it gives us a quick glimpse into someone's fleeting life and the unwavering truth about everyone's final outcome in the most honest form. With a run time of only 3mins this is surely something worthy of your time. It's short, potent and something that can lead to a cathartic moment upon completion. Its beauty comes from its simplicity. A must watch for anyone.

riots

It's unfortunate that so many brilliant animated shorts in Japan are largely obscure to western audiences. It's also unexpected that a Japanese comedian, going by the pseudonym "Tekken", was able to capture the hearts of millions with two short, dialogue-less, and crudely drawn animations. The following covers the first of the two, entitled "Furiko" (otherwise known as Pendulum). You don't need words to tell a beautiful story. It's such a rare thing to see in recent anime, but Takefumi Kurashina takes the medium and strips it to its rawest form - basic animation, simple music, and an uncomplicated plot. Telling the story of a man's journeythrough life and love, the narrative is done beautifully and flows effortlessly, and is an entirely silent affair. That being said, Furiko plays on its simplicity with great success, with the emotions of its characters pulling through in every fleeting scene. The narrative is pushed along with the frame being captured in a swinging pendulum, only stopping when the man pauses to realize the beauty in his life. Like a swinging pendulum, life moves on, and these realizations are far and in between life's tragically brief existence. The music accompanying the man's story is perfect. It's a vague statement, but one that isn't really given out lightly. The lyric-less song begins with four piano chords, which repeat themselves throughout the entirety of the story. With the repetition of these chords matching up with the incessant swinging of the "pendulum", violin melodies are added as the story progresses, similar to Pachelbel's Canon in D. Like the story, the melody's buildup has a beginning, a climax, and an end, bringing everything back to the same four chords used at the beginning of the piece. Ashes to ashes, so to speak. It very much reflects the whole aspect of life as a journey, marked at the beginning and end with life and death. I'm not a big fan of the word "tearjerker", but in Furiko's case, tearjerker is most definitely an understatement. In three, short minutes, Furiko accomplishes to do what dozens of long-running episodes might not - emotionally captivate you with simplicity, subtlety, and an endearing story.