Sarusuberi: Miss Hokusai

Synopsis:
Year:
2015
32 Views


There's this nutty old man...

He painted a huge Dharma

on a huge sheet of paper.

And on the other hand?

He drew a pair of sparrows

on a tiny rice grain.

His name is Tetsuzo. But maybe

you know him as Hokusai the painter?

That nutty old man

is my father.

Yech! I stepped in dog poop...

Bubbles! I sell soap bubbles!

Edo, summer 1814

- Who's there?

- Me.

Oh, O-Ei.

I bought lunch.

Thanks.

I hear your father's not busy.

Says who?

It's what I heard.

I wonder if you're eating right.

Of course we are.

With two brushes and four chopsticks,

we'll get by anywhere.

Oh, I hear you went to see O-Nao.

I took her a new summer robe,

and she said you'd just left.

And brought her some goldfish.

I did.

She watches them every day.

Even though she can't see them.

She can.

Mother, maybe I'll move in here.

I'd like that.

But your father...

Tetsuzo doesn't care

if he's alone or not.

Don't talk that way about him.

Crape myrtle's blooming.

"Scatter briskly,

bloom heartily," huh.

The looong festival's begun.

MISS HOKUSAI:

This is where me and Tetsuzo live.

We don't cook.

We don't clean.

It gets too dirty,

we move.

Tetsuzo's only interested

in painting.

Doesn't drink or smoke.

He paints erotica though,

so I guess he likes women.

It was finished,

then ruined?!

Unacceptable. Get your father.

I wonder where he is...

Don't give me that!

He's not here.

He sure ain't.

Mr. Hokusai! The dragon?!

As soon as I finished it,

it flew away.

The deadline's end of this month.

There's still a day left.

Come back tomorrow.

The dragon might too.

And if not?!

Do your worst.

Beheading you

won't satisfy my lord.

If it comes to that...

You'll slit your stomach?

That must hurt...

I'm not redoing it.

I know.

Let's not do this after all.

Huh? I said I'd introduce ya.

This drunk is Zenjiro.

He lives with us,

and chases women.

He gave up being a samurai.

Now he's a painter.

I met this guy at the publisher's.

Hey you, if you're a painter,

you better be grateful.

This old fella's the great Hokusai.

Pleased to meet you.

I'm Utagawa Kuninao.

Of the Utagawa school.

I know we're competitors,

but I admire your work, sir.

Please don't hold it against me.

"Kuninao"?!

Why didn't ya tell me?

You didn't ask me.

So, you're Kuninao.

You're a big deal.

Oh, not at all!

- Get in here.

- Thank you.

- And you're 19?

- Correct.

Four years younger, huh.

Eat up!

But...

Shut up and eat, you little runt!

Calm down, Zenjiro!

Sorry about the commotion.

Oh! The dog poop...

No, I mean...

Acquainted already?

She's Mr. Hokusai's daughter, O-Ei.

You're O-Ei?

You don't say. I see you often

at Ryogoku Bridge.

A dragon?

There's a knack to painting them.

Painting freehand weakens it.

Thinking about it does the same.

You've got to just... wait for it.

When it comes,

paint it all at once.

It's not like other beasts.

And neither is painting it.

Oh, but those aren't my words.

The Chinese say so.

What impudence!

Coming on to O-Ei

in front of her father!

Not at all!

I never meant to...

Mr. Big-Shot Painter's

a real sweet talker.

Why you little...

How dare you!

Hey!

Get out!

Huh? She kicked you out too?

Mr. Hokusai, let's go for a walk.

Yeah, we'll drink it off!

Look, that foxy lady's

beckoning us.

Hey, she laughed!

Dragons don't exist!

As a kid, I saw one.

Yeah, a tornado.

The wind hits mountains and valleys,

falling and twisting. That's all.

I saw one too.

I spotted claws and scales

in the clouds.

It's in your head.

That's why you're a crappy painter.

The people you draw are fake,

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