Broken Saints

You should see the crap online, it’s all freaky sex and dumb cartoons… that’s what I hear anyway. ex and dumb cartoons… that’s what I hear anyway.
— Raimi Matthews, Broken Saints.

I’m torn by this review.

Broken Saints is a series of computer-animated still paintings (for the most part), set to music, with dialogue provided through comic book balloons and given voice for a DVD collection. The story plays on fears of a one-world government under a corporate empire and has garnered hundreds of fans through its self-titled website before ever reaching for a commercial market.

As Flash-animated comic book-style animation, the individual episodes are amazing pieces of art (if a bit pretentious at times), but as a DVD — well, the animation and storytelling seems ill-suited to the comparatively bigger screen of television.

Creators Brooke Burgess, Andrew West, Ian Kirby, and a small, under-recognized group of hangers-on, have earned great acclaim for their 11-hour work — including the Online Film Festival Viewers Award at Sundance — and yet as a DVD, viewed on television, it lost something.

Don’t get me wrong, the journey of mystery, faith, and understanding becomes enthralling and the ideas presented are interesting. By the fourth hour you really want to know how it ends, but it felt like it was lacking a crucial element. And after watching the original episodic Flash animation at the official site, I found that missing element.

The story which seems awkward on television fits perfectly in the digital medium.

Here is a form of entertainment that combines that hip Eastern anime feel and philosophy with Western underground comic book sensibilities and video game-style presentation. The result is a piece that would not really work in its current form as a video game, comic book, or movie — but works very well with the unique canvas of the computer monitor.

Maybe that’s because other Flash-animated series, like Undercover Brother and Foamy the Squirrel, are not quite as eloquent.

The film is focused around four main characters, the “saints” from the “quiet corners” of the globe.

Raimi Matthews is a Canadian-borne computer program on the Western U.S. coast (much like Burgess, the series’ writer) and a non-practicing Catholic who spouts clichéd dialogue that only Frank Miller could get away with. Unfortunately this isn’t Frank Miller, so referring to buildings that “thrust into the gaping womb of twilight and copulate with the stars” doesn’t always work.

Oran is an Iraqi Muslim who inexplicably uses English homonyms and has a chip on his shoulder the size of Operation Iraqi Freedom. He is considered the most “controversial” character, being a radical Muslim extremist (who adapts very well to American media), and is presented as the most sympathetic in several situations.

Next is Kamimura, a Shinto-by-way-of-Buddhist monk from Japan who references Greek elements and dresses like he stepped out of an anime version of feudal Japan or a 1980’s wire-fu Honk Kong film.

Finally there is the heart of the story, Shandala Nisinu. She fills the role of “white savage”, being an American girl who washed up on a Fijian Island untouched by western beliefs. Raised by the natives, she is the best among the tribe and reminds them about the importance of the old ways. Inexplicably, the Islanders all speak perfect English for her benefit and trade with outsiders despite being otherwise xenophobic.

Burgess, who seems at times a bit full of himself, is passionate about his art. According to interviews and home movies included with the collection, he sees his “cinematic literature” as providing a form of mediation and spiritual direction for the audience. A sense of self-righteousness is also evident as he blames racism for the lack of wide audience or studio appeal — Oran is Iraqi after all — but that perceived racism doesn’t seem to manifest itself as a video game and possible TV series are apparently in the works.

Still, it is Burgess’ passion that saves the film. He and his co-conspirators understand that they cannot compromise their vision for political or commercial reasons — and the art is better for it.

The DVD itself includes many extras not available with the free, online version. The voice talent added to this version is superb and the improved art show through. The set itself is also well-designed, with special features on each of the four discs — even if most seem intended purely for the hardcore fans.

As an experiment in Flash, Broken Saints is an amazing success. As an Internet series, it stands high above the rest. As a DVD collection, however, it may not be ready for a mass audience. If you’re a computer enthusiast curious about what can be done with the medium, watch it. Otherwise it might be best to dip your toes in first with the online version.