Written, Directed, and Produced
by Jessica Oreck
Myriapod Productions 2009
English and Japanese with English Subtitles
DVD: 90 minutes with 6 minutes of extras
$20.00 from http://beetlequeen.com/

Video depictions of insects have always emphasized the disjunction between their world and ours. If they are not represented as pests or monsters negatively interacting with humans, then they are not shown to interact at all: their beauty and wonder is relegated to existing solely in “nature,” that pristine wilderness that only the likes of Attenborough are allowed to enter. Small wonder that, at least in the West, there is little appreciation for hexapod–human interactions as we are constantly reminded that one side or the other will fare poorly in the end. Enter Jessica Oreck’s Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo, an ethnobiological documentary about the deeply embedded position of insects in Japanese culture. Filmed in 2009 and recently aired on PBS, it is now available as a home-use DVD. The footage, interspersed with narration explaining the extent and origin of Japan’s fascination with insects, is a unique take on the insect film (hence the tongue-in-cheek title) that embraces the presence of humans in the insect world, as well as their presence in ours.

If one is searching for films with gorgeous macro footage of aesthetically pleasing insects, Beetle Queen delivers. The insects being filmed (such as silk worms in culture or crickets in cages) are all domesticated, but that does not detract at all from the beauty of the images. Rather, the human element makes the scenes all the more alluring, as the images shift from insects to their artificial surroundings and the commercialized goods and services they inspire. Much of the film covers the lucrative world of beetle trading in Japan. Large rhinoceros and stag beetles are collected and sold as pets, coveted and beloved by the children who buy them with help from their parents (a high-end beetle will cost tens or even hundreds of dollars). Around this love of beetles has grown a massive industry of insect-related products: tools for the collectors, cages and feed for the pet owners, and beetle-themed toys and clothes and mascots. For children unable to find a beetle shop or insect expo nearby, there are video games in which they can pick up a virtual net and go collecting, as well as beetle-fighting arcade games played using collectible cards representing different species.

The insect craze in Japan is not limited to the pet trade. Just as the Japanese will make a pilgrimage to the ideal spot to view the blossoming of cherry trees, they will also seek out natural locations where the seasonal songs of the crickets or flashing displays of the fireflies are at their finest. Perhaps the most beloved of the wild insects are the dragonflies, whose prevalence and diversity in Japan is noted even in ancient literature; for example, a poem written by an emperor honors a dragonfly that ate a horsefly after the latter had bitten the emperor’s arm. Such tales of noblemen appreciating their odonate subjects led to one of Japan’s older names: “The Dragonfly Isles.”

These historical tidbits are told via a soft-spoken narration in Japanese (with subtitles) and through an interview with Japanese philosopher Dr. Takeshi Yoro (in English), revealing how this insect-friendly culture came about. For example, the practice of keeping insects as pets goes back to the 17th-century food vendor, Chuzo, who caged crickets for fun and started a craze when nobility picked up the hobby. A key feature of Japanese culture is the concept of mono no aware, or sensitivity towards the beauty of transience. The dances of dragonflies or the falling of cherry petals are seasonal gifts tied to the passing of time, and the Japanese take a wistful delight in the observance of these temporary spectacles. The exposition of the film travels backwards in time to find the origins of such concepts and their contemporary manifestations, linking the Japanese attunement to nature to the necessity of constant awareness in a region so disproportionately plagued with natural disasters, and ultimately to the animism of Japan’s endemic spiritual philosophy, Shinto.

The film has its flaws. Some of the establishing shots drag on too long and there is little in the film of operational value: neither species names nor locations are given, except in a small booklet that comes with the DVD. The movie is less a guide to Japanese entomology than a guide to Japanese entomologists: a documentary about the kind of people who show fascination rather than fear when presented with insects and who enjoy setting up large sheets and blacklights in a forest at night. They simply happen to be far more prevalent in Japan than elsewhere. As a teaching tool, the movie is a great way to introduce Western audiences to a new way of approaching arthropods. The insect enthusiasts shown in this movie are not career entomologists plagued with the stereotype of eccentricity, but everyday citizens who see no reason why insects should not play a positive role in their lives. Somewhere between Microcosmos and Mothra (though quite unlike either), Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo is a unique study in cultural entomology and a delightful addition to any entomologist’s movie collection.

Matan Shelomi
Department of Entomology
University of California
Davis CA 95616
E-mail: mshelomi@ucdavis.edu

American Entomologist
Vol. 58, No.3, Fall 2012