Shikabane: human spirits whose regrets in life cause them to return as vengeful monsters.
Shikabane Hime: young (usually hot,) undead women employed to seek and destroy shikabane.
A few months ago, I reviewed the first season of this supernatural/horror/drama/fan-service extravaganza by GAINAX with great delight. The cliff-hanger ending of episode twelve gave me plenty of motivation and desire for more.
To recap, there are monsters, and there are strike teams of monks and undead teenage girls who fight off said monsters. Ouri, an inclusive youth with a fascination with death, has been following his adoptive older brother, Keisei and his partner, Makina Hoshimura. In a critical moment of defiance and selfless sacrifice, Keisei finally lays down his life for Ouri and Makina, setting the stage for the second half of this passionate drama.
In season two, we turn our attention to the Seven Stars, a team of untouchably powerful shikabane who seek the utter destruction of the Kougon Sect and their shikabane himes. With a clear central villain and a clear conflict of interests between central characters, you would think the story has plenty of steam to keep this freight train on the move.
Then the middle of the series comes, and with it the mid-season-two-drag. We fall into the shallow grave of flashbacks, recaps and tertiary character development, but only to emerge stronger than ever.
Somehow during the transition of acquiring Ouri as her new contractor monk, Makina has developed a curse, a super-power that gives her unlimited regeneration at the cost of shortening Ouri’s life. This twist is more for dramatic effect then an actual plot point, as she continues her regular Shikabane Hime duties of monster-mashing and self-loathing. Although it does lend itself to some pretty impressive fight sequences.
Some support characters are developed for the sake of cautionary tales between Ouri and Makina, while some new characters are introduced for the sake of fan-service. Not to say that Shikabane Hime loses any of its dark, morbid charm. Most of the fights leading up to the final conflict with the Seven Stars are downright cruel to viewers. Bravo. All that was lacking was development on the Seven Stars: a majority of them are not given memorable names or even discernable powers. Come on, guys, you had 25 episodes, gimme a back story!
Eventually, the Seven Stars and Akasha, the “traitor monk,” get their acts together and start causing mayhem on a grand scale. By using their young leader, a seemingly brain-dead girl named Hokuto, the Stars wreak Left 4 Dead-style havoc on Tokyo. The potential for mass-slaughter is ignored for a handful of “I’m-gonna-follow-my-path-no-matter-what” speeches, but I can overlook them.
The series caps out at twenty-five episodes, and while the plot does not resolve entirely, the characters’ resolve is set in stone, and we leave the series with a satisfying acceptance of life over a peculiar fascination with death, and the changing of the guard, passing of the torch is complete.
A huge part of Shikabane Hime’s appeal was its convenience. Using Hulu, I was able to watch the entire series at my leisure with about a minute of commercial interruption. Besides the obvious mid-season-two-slump, Shikabaane Hime delivers and pushes its characters to develop their motivations, not just their powers, (something you might want to take note of, Bleach.) Keep up the good work FUNimation. A sinister and grimly earned 4.0 out of 5.
Showing posts with label anime. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anime. Show all posts
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
White Album
You’ve probably caught on that Japanese drama is very slow, very dense, and very gradual, like the pacing of a Harold Pinter play. White Album turns its pages very delicately, inter-lacing love and politics, commitment and heartbreak, dreams of success and responsibility. This is a subtle, realistic story about holding onto what you love in a world that gives you no control.
Touya Fujii is the kind of main character who can put you to sleep (mainly because it is debatable if he ever is awake in the scenes.) He works at a café, tutors fellow students, and sleeps a lot. However, his isn’t the interesting story; his girlfriend, Yuki Morikawa is on her way to becoming a rising pop star (like Brittany.) Her career begins to put serious strain on their relationship until Touya gets a lucky break: becoming a personal assistant for the current pop sensation, Rina Ogata. Red haired and fiesty, Rina is a diva with a heart of gold and a big sister role-model to Yuki. From here, a quiet love triangle begins to take shape, vanishing and reappearing almost to its own accord, like Brittany Spears’ talent.
Rina’s manager/older brother is fixated on Yuki being the next big thing and begins sacrificing his sister’s career. It feels that Touya has literally no say in anything that happens. A lot of time is spent on the bare and empty rooms and buildings in the scenes; people are very often alone to an excruciating degree. Many scenes revolve around missing phone calls; the pop stars are stuck in the studios and only touch the outside world through their box phone (like Brittany).
Touya has many women other than Yuki who become his “goddess of the day,” a term of endearment who those who help him out, though he spends all his time helping women to various degrees. While this may seem like the set-up to a harem or dating-game anime, the female characters are too complex for such a restrictive label. Younger sister, girlfriend, mentor, all the other characters have an essential element that Touya (like Brittany) lacks: drive and passion. Well…as much drive and passion as can be allowed in such a molasses-paced series.
A narrative technique that gives this series its charm is Touya’s internal monologue, displayed as poetic subtitles across the screen; thankfully these terse verses give us insight into the complicated drama beneath the surface (like Brittany’s psychiatrist.)
Another aesthetic that externalizes Touya’s feelings are the depictions of the various women as goddesses, a pastel shading of the girl that is misleadingly soft and warm. Flowing and trapped behind a soft-focus lense, these moments add a personal quality to a very stand-offish drama.
It’s hard to pitch this series to non-anime fans (unlike Brittany,) and nearly impossible for younger people because of its maturity in tackling issues like political manipulation, fame and sex. This is a dispassionate series and whenever emotion is shown, you realize how it long it has been building up. It’s like Chekov as an anime.
White Album digresses and develops its side stories musically, flowing between Yuki’s career and her struggle to hold her relationship with Touya. Commitment is hard to keep during a career, the isolation seems maddening (like in Perfect Blue.) Soft, light, romantic, but the subtext drives you crazy. Yayoi is Yuki’s driver/assistant and takes Touya to a dam to tell him, in so many words, not to date Yuki anymore so she can focus on her career. She then offers herself to Touya dispassionately to distract him. The narrative is never clear if he does or doesn’t take the bait.
A unique story, which is a good and bad thing. I recommend White Album to older fans who want a series to share with their significant other. Sadly, the complete 26 episodes have yet to air, so we can only wait for this story to conclude happily, or at least co-hosting the VMA’s…like Christina Aguilara. Anigamers gives this series a solid 3 out of 4, beautiful art, great story and script, but pacing of a hundred-meter dash for Brittany after a night at Boston Market.
Touya Fujii is the kind of main character who can put you to sleep (mainly because it is debatable if he ever is awake in the scenes.) He works at a café, tutors fellow students, and sleeps a lot. However, his isn’t the interesting story; his girlfriend, Yuki Morikawa is on her way to becoming a rising pop star (like Brittany.) Her career begins to put serious strain on their relationship until Touya gets a lucky break: becoming a personal assistant for the current pop sensation, Rina Ogata. Red haired and fiesty, Rina is a diva with a heart of gold and a big sister role-model to Yuki. From here, a quiet love triangle begins to take shape, vanishing and reappearing almost to its own accord, like Brittany Spears’ talent.
Rina’s manager/older brother is fixated on Yuki being the next big thing and begins sacrificing his sister’s career. It feels that Touya has literally no say in anything that happens. A lot of time is spent on the bare and empty rooms and buildings in the scenes; people are very often alone to an excruciating degree. Many scenes revolve around missing phone calls; the pop stars are stuck in the studios and only touch the outside world through their box phone (like Brittany).
Touya has many women other than Yuki who become his “goddess of the day,” a term of endearment who those who help him out, though he spends all his time helping women to various degrees. While this may seem like the set-up to a harem or dating-game anime, the female characters are too complex for such a restrictive label. Younger sister, girlfriend, mentor, all the other characters have an essential element that Touya (like Brittany) lacks: drive and passion. Well…as much drive and passion as can be allowed in such a molasses-paced series.
A narrative technique that gives this series its charm is Touya’s internal monologue, displayed as poetic subtitles across the screen; thankfully these terse verses give us insight into the complicated drama beneath the surface (like Brittany’s psychiatrist.)
Another aesthetic that externalizes Touya’s feelings are the depictions of the various women as goddesses, a pastel shading of the girl that is misleadingly soft and warm. Flowing and trapped behind a soft-focus lense, these moments add a personal quality to a very stand-offish drama.
It’s hard to pitch this series to non-anime fans (unlike Brittany,) and nearly impossible for younger people because of its maturity in tackling issues like political manipulation, fame and sex. This is a dispassionate series and whenever emotion is shown, you realize how it long it has been building up. It’s like Chekov as an anime.
White Album digresses and develops its side stories musically, flowing between Yuki’s career and her struggle to hold her relationship with Touya. Commitment is hard to keep during a career, the isolation seems maddening (like in Perfect Blue.) Soft, light, romantic, but the subtext drives you crazy. Yayoi is Yuki’s driver/assistant and takes Touya to a dam to tell him, in so many words, not to date Yuki anymore so she can focus on her career. She then offers herself to Touya dispassionately to distract him. The narrative is never clear if he does or doesn’t take the bait.
A unique story, which is a good and bad thing. I recommend White Album to older fans who want a series to share with their significant other. Sadly, the complete 26 episodes have yet to air, so we can only wait for this story to conclude happily, or at least co-hosting the VMA’s…like Christina Aguilara. Anigamers gives this series a solid 3 out of 4, beautiful art, great story and script, but pacing of a hundred-meter dash for Brittany after a night at Boston Market.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Ga-Rei-Zero
“Will you kill someone you love because of love?” No: it’s more fun to torture them.
When you have thirteen episodes to develop a show, good writers stick to one story, great writers can multi-task. With Ga-Rei-Zero, Yomi and Kagura’s friendly sisterly rivalry turns bittersweet the intervention of Oedipus’ good buddy, Fate. The story’s road takes a clever fork as one sister’s coming-of-age is achieved at the cost of the other’s fall from grace.
When the story begins in medias res, you feel like you’ve missed something big. Characters appear and emote without context, and I found myself rewatching episodes in chronological order to feel the full impact of each major battle. A clever bookend, though it leads you in the totally wrong direction, considering the entire cast of episode one is dead by episode two. What begins as Ghost in the Shell-esch dialog with demons becomes schoolgirls with demons…without tentacles.
Basic premise: our world today is being attacked by invisible spooks, monsters, the whole nine yards. Only a handful of families possess enough spiritual energy to see and slaughter said monsters. One such team is the covert Special Tactical Squad Section One. Their newest member will soon be Kagura Tsuchimiya, though there is little a traumatized ten-year-old can do for herself, let alone the world. It is up her to uncle and adoptive cousin, Yomi, to save her from despair. They both use swords to combat the undead (and deadish) as well as inherited beasts of their own. Yomi has Ranguen (manticore on steroids), while Kagura’s father bears the family legacy of burdening his soul with the white, fluffy chain dragon of unspeakable horror, Byakurei.
The animation is magnificent, with smooth movement, flashy fights and great weather effects. Whether in a forest, underground sewer, or on the streets of Tokyo, I believe this world, which is why the 3D graphics of some of the monsters are so disappointing. Many of the monsters are stock (or unionized, it’s hard to tell with animated monsters) and the fights are disappointing one-sided, although seeing Yomi fight with a holy water-spraying iron at one point was pretty grand.
It is not all skirts and flirts, though. There are several comedic moments in the series (including a Comedy of Errors episode) that is uniquely humorous. Master Michael – I choose to say no more besides, “yes.” The humor is very well-spaced and does well to soften the next emotional impact. As Yomi descends into darkness and eventually becomes an adversary, she becomes a walking massacre in a skirt that really ends up tugging your heart. Her fights with Kagura (especially episode eleven) redefine swordplay…and arm-drills.
While Ga-Rei-Zero has intriguing domestic insurrection, the majority of the series revolves around Kagura and Yomi’s reactions to both of the series’ major events, which if you know anything about anime, usually means the passing of the torch, passing of legacy. The series is masculine in its gritty nature, but very feminine in its habit of focusing too long on Kagura crying, or lamenting, or grieving. If I had to give this anime a song, it would have to be “All The Things She Said.”
The main problem with this season is its waiting-for-a-sequel ending, which to me dismisses Yomi’s purpose as a character beyond the threshold guardian for Kagura. Do I want more? Not without Yomi. As the first two episodes indicate, Yomi becomes the bad guy. Her descent is slightly more believable than Anakin Skywalker’s, but far too easy. The nameless main villain corrupts her far too easily. Yomi was a great ally and a supportive, loving sister, which made her such a sinister villain, but to have her switch gears so easily feels like a quicker 180 than Will Smith in I Am Legend. Go ahead and watch, but tell me if you disagree with the “puppet-master” treatment of Yomi.
A cool story of sisterly love and the hardship of legacy. It is hinted with political manipulation and topped with fun monster-slaying; Ga-Rei-Zero was a nice surprise, though I can’t imagine it generating a large following.
When you have thirteen episodes to develop a show, good writers stick to one story, great writers can multi-task. With Ga-Rei-Zero, Yomi and Kagura’s friendly sisterly rivalry turns bittersweet the intervention of Oedipus’ good buddy, Fate. The story’s road takes a clever fork as one sister’s coming-of-age is achieved at the cost of the other’s fall from grace.
When the story begins in medias res, you feel like you’ve missed something big. Characters appear and emote without context, and I found myself rewatching episodes in chronological order to feel the full impact of each major battle. A clever bookend, though it leads you in the totally wrong direction, considering the entire cast of episode one is dead by episode two. What begins as Ghost in the Shell-esch dialog with demons becomes schoolgirls with demons…without tentacles.
Basic premise: our world today is being attacked by invisible spooks, monsters, the whole nine yards. Only a handful of families possess enough spiritual energy to see and slaughter said monsters. One such team is the covert Special Tactical Squad Section One. Their newest member will soon be Kagura Tsuchimiya, though there is little a traumatized ten-year-old can do for herself, let alone the world. It is up her to uncle and adoptive cousin, Yomi, to save her from despair. They both use swords to combat the undead (and deadish) as well as inherited beasts of their own. Yomi has Ranguen (manticore on steroids), while Kagura’s father bears the family legacy of burdening his soul with the white, fluffy chain dragon of unspeakable horror, Byakurei.
The animation is magnificent, with smooth movement, flashy fights and great weather effects. Whether in a forest, underground sewer, or on the streets of Tokyo, I believe this world, which is why the 3D graphics of some of the monsters are so disappointing. Many of the monsters are stock (or unionized, it’s hard to tell with animated monsters) and the fights are disappointing one-sided, although seeing Yomi fight with a holy water-spraying iron at one point was pretty grand.
It is not all skirts and flirts, though. There are several comedic moments in the series (including a Comedy of Errors episode) that is uniquely humorous. Master Michael – I choose to say no more besides, “yes.” The humor is very well-spaced and does well to soften the next emotional impact. As Yomi descends into darkness and eventually becomes an adversary, she becomes a walking massacre in a skirt that really ends up tugging your heart. Her fights with Kagura (especially episode eleven) redefine swordplay…and arm-drills.
While Ga-Rei-Zero has intriguing domestic insurrection, the majority of the series revolves around Kagura and Yomi’s reactions to both of the series’ major events, which if you know anything about anime, usually means the passing of the torch, passing of legacy. The series is masculine in its gritty nature, but very feminine in its habit of focusing too long on Kagura crying, or lamenting, or grieving. If I had to give this anime a song, it would have to be “All The Things She Said.”
The main problem with this season is its waiting-for-a-sequel ending, which to me dismisses Yomi’s purpose as a character beyond the threshold guardian for Kagura. Do I want more? Not without Yomi. As the first two episodes indicate, Yomi becomes the bad guy. Her descent is slightly more believable than Anakin Skywalker’s, but far too easy. The nameless main villain corrupts her far too easily. Yomi was a great ally and a supportive, loving sister, which made her such a sinister villain, but to have her switch gears so easily feels like a quicker 180 than Will Smith in I Am Legend. Go ahead and watch, but tell me if you disagree with the “puppet-master” treatment of Yomi.
A cool story of sisterly love and the hardship of legacy. It is hinted with political manipulation and topped with fun monster-slaying; Ga-Rei-Zero was a nice surprise, though I can’t imagine it generating a large following.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Shikabane Hime (Corpse Princess
You’re pretty much aware of Funimation’s desire to bring us fresh, crispy, brand-new anime NOW. Shikabane Hime is the first in what may be a long trend of anime released online, fully subtitled, through an American company. True, you can buy high-quality subbed episodes right now through Itunes, or watch them on Youtube or Hulu, and it’s perfectly legal. But we’ll hold off on the legality for a law firm podcast.
For now we’ve got guns, demons and boobies to discuss.
Studio Gainax picked up this supernatural action series from a moderately popular manga. Shikabane Hime follows Makina Hoshimura, an undead soldier who must slaughter 108 fellow shikabane (vengeful zombie/spirits) in order to achieve Heaven. Fighting alongside her is her contract monk, Keisei Tagami, a modern man using old-school methods. The real pull of the story is through his adoptive, detached younger brother, Ouri. Ouri’s fascination with death is a moth-to-the-flame archetype that is destined to leave him burned. The situation quickly reaches the clichéd catch-22 of “we both want to protect each other, but we’ll both get killed in the process,” as Ouri includes himself in many of Makina’s missions.
Gainax flexes their muscles with the opening animation, whipping zombie arms and bullet casings like they were party-poppers at a New Year’s party. The fluid animation paired with the distorted close-up angles bears the proud badge of the studio that gave us Evangelion. Shikabane Hime tones down most of its colors to create the eerie atmosphere we’ve come to associate with modern Gothic stories. It’s dark, almost macabre coloration reminded me of Blood + without the whiny characters. It is strange how the camera holds Makina in frame: her ice-cold beauty and violent passion is quite hot. Almost all of the backgrounds and scenery are unmistakably grim, however, lacking in any major light source.
Sadly, at times the overbearingly grim tones leads to flat, professional supporting characters that do not elicit much sympathy. Even so, director Masahiko Murata tries to interject slapstick humor and innuendo comedic relief…but to no avail. If anything, the jokes are so forced and out-of-place they distract from the task at hand: shooting up zombies. Still, I’d hate to think of how dull this series would be without Keisei’s closeted otaku-tendencies.
Gainax’s staff brought out their big guns in letting Shou Aikawa handle the script. His ear for corrupted morality can be heard in the FMA movie, Rahxephon, Wrath of the Ninja, and the OVA of Vampire Princess Miyu. In short, a very experienced man with one foot firmly planted in the realm of the fantastic.
Beyond the gripping stories of people resurrecting as powerful monsters only to be mowed down, I was most invested in the political struggle of the monks’ hierarchy. Indeed, the tethering of shikabane himes (corpse princesses) to fight off monsters is a no-win situation of fighting fire with fire. And boy do they use fire. Makina’s firearms are a beautiful, bouncing pair of…Uzis. Another corpse princess fights with her fists, another with a big-ass hammer, and another with a sniper rifle. This team of living corpses perpetually argues among themselves and with their contracted monks, leading to a more fitting, subtle (though definitely black) humor.
As the story exhumes the mysteries surrounding Makina’s death and Keisei’s involvement with the Kougon Sect, it is clear that Ouri’s involvement with the himes will only pull him deeper. I will not spoil the end of the first season, but I will remind you to stay tuned to Funimation’s youtube channel, as Shikabane Hime: Kuro, or season two, is already in post-production and ready to launch here…in America. It turns out that Gainax is keeping themselves quite busy between this production and both the Gurren Lagann movies. They are clearly not going to let Studio Bones have all the fun.
Shikabane Hime is an all-around decent action piece that dictates a black-and-white arguement on using monsters to blow away other monsters. Nothing ground-breaking, but much better than your run-of-the-mill zombie film. A solid three out of five.
For now we’ve got guns, demons and boobies to discuss.
Studio Gainax picked up this supernatural action series from a moderately popular manga. Shikabane Hime follows Makina Hoshimura, an undead soldier who must slaughter 108 fellow shikabane (vengeful zombie/spirits) in order to achieve Heaven. Fighting alongside her is her contract monk, Keisei Tagami, a modern man using old-school methods. The real pull of the story is through his adoptive, detached younger brother, Ouri. Ouri’s fascination with death is a moth-to-the-flame archetype that is destined to leave him burned. The situation quickly reaches the clichéd catch-22 of “we both want to protect each other, but we’ll both get killed in the process,” as Ouri includes himself in many of Makina’s missions.
Gainax flexes their muscles with the opening animation, whipping zombie arms and bullet casings like they were party-poppers at a New Year’s party. The fluid animation paired with the distorted close-up angles bears the proud badge of the studio that gave us Evangelion. Shikabane Hime tones down most of its colors to create the eerie atmosphere we’ve come to associate with modern Gothic stories. It’s dark, almost macabre coloration reminded me of Blood + without the whiny characters. It is strange how the camera holds Makina in frame: her ice-cold beauty and violent passion is quite hot. Almost all of the backgrounds and scenery are unmistakably grim, however, lacking in any major light source.
Sadly, at times the overbearingly grim tones leads to flat, professional supporting characters that do not elicit much sympathy. Even so, director Masahiko Murata tries to interject slapstick humor and innuendo comedic relief…but to no avail. If anything, the jokes are so forced and out-of-place they distract from the task at hand: shooting up zombies. Still, I’d hate to think of how dull this series would be without Keisei’s closeted otaku-tendencies.
Gainax’s staff brought out their big guns in letting Shou Aikawa handle the script. His ear for corrupted morality can be heard in the FMA movie, Rahxephon, Wrath of the Ninja, and the OVA of Vampire Princess Miyu. In short, a very experienced man with one foot firmly planted in the realm of the fantastic.
Beyond the gripping stories of people resurrecting as powerful monsters only to be mowed down, I was most invested in the political struggle of the monks’ hierarchy. Indeed, the tethering of shikabane himes (corpse princesses) to fight off monsters is a no-win situation of fighting fire with fire. And boy do they use fire. Makina’s firearms are a beautiful, bouncing pair of…Uzis. Another corpse princess fights with her fists, another with a big-ass hammer, and another with a sniper rifle. This team of living corpses perpetually argues among themselves and with their contracted monks, leading to a more fitting, subtle (though definitely black) humor.
As the story exhumes the mysteries surrounding Makina’s death and Keisei’s involvement with the Kougon Sect, it is clear that Ouri’s involvement with the himes will only pull him deeper. I will not spoil the end of the first season, but I will remind you to stay tuned to Funimation’s youtube channel, as Shikabane Hime: Kuro, or season two, is already in post-production and ready to launch here…in America. It turns out that Gainax is keeping themselves quite busy between this production and both the Gurren Lagann movies. They are clearly not going to let Studio Bones have all the fun.
Shikabane Hime is an all-around decent action piece that dictates a black-and-white arguement on using monsters to blow away other monsters. Nothing ground-breaking, but much better than your run-of-the-mill zombie film. A solid three out of five.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Gurren Lagann
It’s Gainax. Of course there are going to be giant robots and bouncing boobies.
From the very beginning, Gurren Lagann is a story of reaching new heights and climbing higher. Simon (pronounced See-moan) is a measly digger, one of the countless humans living in despair beneath the Earth’s crust. Banished to never see the sky above, mankind is truly at its lowest. If it were not for his inspirational and testosterone-exuding gang-brother Kamina, Simon would be almost deprived of confidence and willpower. Change is set into motion as Simon discovers a mechanical face buried in the soil, and the tiny drill that activates it. From there, destiny spins itself out of control as Simon and Kamina aim their sights for the grand, unexplored world above their tunnel city.
Halfway through the first episode, a giant robot falls from the ceiling, as does a beautiful, rifle-wielding tom-boy named Yoko. Once Simon pilots the pint-sized Lagann to victory, Team Gurren’s journey truly begins. Upon reaching the surface, Simon and Kamina learn that mankind was driven underground out of terror of the Beastmen and their giant robots. They join up with Yoko’s village and begin living to the fullest, leading a full-out war against the Beastmen and their terrifying Spiral King.
I have waited a long time for an anime like this. I remember being a hot-blooded teenager, thrilling over Dragon Ball Z, Ronin Warriors and, yes, even Sailor Moon. When a character wanted something, they yelled louder, lights appeared from nowhere, and they achieved the impossible. It’s that moment in anime when willpower and desire are personified, and every hair on your arm stands up on end. If it weren’t for the visual barrage of colorful characters and hypnotic robot battles, Gurren Lagann’s predictability and formula would murder its potential. But it’s almost too good to dismiss as another kids show overloaded with toy company fodder.
From there, the formula is set in place. Just as good as it is bad, you cannot shake off Gurren Lagann’s almost cop-out ability to drill through every obstacle imaginable the same way every time. Whenever there is a chance of emotional development and a deep meaning, a bigger robot appears and the human’s flagship mecha, Gurren Lagann, makes an even bigger drill, penetrates the enemy robot, and pounds its way to a lightshow of victory.
Gainax’s stylistic choppy animation style that was embraced during FLCL adds a level of spunk and pep that compliments the chromatically intense visuals. Staying on the visuals, the eye-catchers are some of the…catchiest I’ve seen since Cowboy Bebop, in that they stand out with a raw and colorful style on their own. The fights are way over-the-top and can easily lead to an epileptic breakdown without proper lighting or medication on hand. Lagann’s animators use old-school cell-paint techniques, which are severely lacking these days in anime; I’m getting tired of bland and depthless 3D rendered backgrounds. And because this is a Gainax anime, no drill-to-penis innuendo is too low nor too overt; in fact very little is spared. Yoko provides the essential “Gainax-bounce” and her fiery brassiere top becomes a character on its own.
Take the fan gushing with a grain of salt: Kamina’s unlimited “fighting spirit” becomes obnoxious quicker than expected. The over-the-top ego drills on your nerves, but it all leads up to the more fascinating and challenging second part of the series. Without any spoilers, I will say this about the second season: think Watchmen, Squadron Supreme, when the righteous make the wrong choices for the right reasons.
A fantastic dub from ADV. Steve Blum goes way off-character to play Leeron, the effeminate tech-head. A-lister Kyle Hebert does a great performance as Kamina, bringing full bravado and macho suave to the all-around badass Kamina. This cast was very carefully put together, and the precision of voice director Tony Oliver paid off fantastically. For more details, check out our podcast episode that Evan recorded at New York Anime Fest – still jealous over that, Minto!
But suspension of disbelief set aside, Gurren Lagann is worth it. Without any doubt. This wasn’t the smartest anime, nor the deepest, but it never tried to be. It just tried to be a good ride with robots – and even a bitter, jaded fan like me fell head-over-heels for it.
From the very beginning, Gurren Lagann is a story of reaching new heights and climbing higher. Simon (pronounced See-moan) is a measly digger, one of the countless humans living in despair beneath the Earth’s crust. Banished to never see the sky above, mankind is truly at its lowest. If it were not for his inspirational and testosterone-exuding gang-brother Kamina, Simon would be almost deprived of confidence and willpower. Change is set into motion as Simon discovers a mechanical face buried in the soil, and the tiny drill that activates it. From there, destiny spins itself out of control as Simon and Kamina aim their sights for the grand, unexplored world above their tunnel city.
Halfway through the first episode, a giant robot falls from the ceiling, as does a beautiful, rifle-wielding tom-boy named Yoko. Once Simon pilots the pint-sized Lagann to victory, Team Gurren’s journey truly begins. Upon reaching the surface, Simon and Kamina learn that mankind was driven underground out of terror of the Beastmen and their giant robots. They join up with Yoko’s village and begin living to the fullest, leading a full-out war against the Beastmen and their terrifying Spiral King.
I have waited a long time for an anime like this. I remember being a hot-blooded teenager, thrilling over Dragon Ball Z, Ronin Warriors and, yes, even Sailor Moon. When a character wanted something, they yelled louder, lights appeared from nowhere, and they achieved the impossible. It’s that moment in anime when willpower and desire are personified, and every hair on your arm stands up on end. If it weren’t for the visual barrage of colorful characters and hypnotic robot battles, Gurren Lagann’s predictability and formula would murder its potential. But it’s almost too good to dismiss as another kids show overloaded with toy company fodder.
From there, the formula is set in place. Just as good as it is bad, you cannot shake off Gurren Lagann’s almost cop-out ability to drill through every obstacle imaginable the same way every time. Whenever there is a chance of emotional development and a deep meaning, a bigger robot appears and the human’s flagship mecha, Gurren Lagann, makes an even bigger drill, penetrates the enemy robot, and pounds its way to a lightshow of victory.
Gainax’s stylistic choppy animation style that was embraced during FLCL adds a level of spunk and pep that compliments the chromatically intense visuals. Staying on the visuals, the eye-catchers are some of the…catchiest I’ve seen since Cowboy Bebop, in that they stand out with a raw and colorful style on their own. The fights are way over-the-top and can easily lead to an epileptic breakdown without proper lighting or medication on hand. Lagann’s animators use old-school cell-paint techniques, which are severely lacking these days in anime; I’m getting tired of bland and depthless 3D rendered backgrounds. And because this is a Gainax anime, no drill-to-penis innuendo is too low nor too overt; in fact very little is spared. Yoko provides the essential “Gainax-bounce” and her fiery brassiere top becomes a character on its own.
Take the fan gushing with a grain of salt: Kamina’s unlimited “fighting spirit” becomes obnoxious quicker than expected. The over-the-top ego drills on your nerves, but it all leads up to the more fascinating and challenging second part of the series. Without any spoilers, I will say this about the second season: think Watchmen, Squadron Supreme, when the righteous make the wrong choices for the right reasons.
A fantastic dub from ADV. Steve Blum goes way off-character to play Leeron, the effeminate tech-head. A-lister Kyle Hebert does a great performance as Kamina, bringing full bravado and macho suave to the all-around badass Kamina. This cast was very carefully put together, and the precision of voice director Tony Oliver paid off fantastically. For more details, check out our podcast episode that Evan recorded at New York Anime Fest – still jealous over that, Minto!
But suspension of disbelief set aside, Gurren Lagann is worth it. Without any doubt. This wasn’t the smartest anime, nor the deepest, but it never tried to be. It just tried to be a good ride with robots – and even a bitter, jaded fan like me fell head-over-heels for it.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
School Days
“At first, I was satisfied with looking…sitting next to her…just having lunch with her made me nervous. I wonder when it started…when I wanted to touch her, when I wanted to hold her…I ended up not being able to control myself with just that. I wanted more…more…and it turned into my selfishness.” – Makoto Itou, episode 12.
Half of me wants to recommend School Days because of the frightening bait-and-switch and treatment of high school sexual promiscuity. The other half wants to know how a series this twisted was ever pitched to a producer. Perchance it went something like this:
“Thank you for meeting with me, Mister Producer.”
“So let’s hear your idea, TNK studios.”
“Well, we wanna do a high school romance. We wanna start casual and light-hearted… then rape half the cast.”
“…go on…”
Makoto Itou has a secret crush on the beautiful, shy girl that rides the train with him every morning to school. She is Katsura Kotonoha: quiet, clean, and beautiful. One of Makoto’s classmates, the free-spirited Sekai, collaborates with him to help him get his mojo working. School Days begins with the light-heartedness of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, develops slower than Julius Caesar, and switches gears to spiral into an ending that would make Othello squirm.
Beautiful animation is paired with unusually overt dialog. The director is very careful to emphasize the character’s cell phone texting as their sole means of honest self-expression, since everyone is lying to someone else in this series just to keep Makoto and Sekai happy together. There is almost no music, but the sound of trains and ringing cell phones sets the lackluster pace of the series.
In order to make Makoto more comfortable around Katsura, Sekai puts him through special training…and that’s when things turn ecchi. Sekai literally throws herself at Makoto, saying that it’s “just practice” and not to be taken seriously. But of course she secretly loves him and longs to make Makoto hers. Now comes Makoto’s inner struggle: does he go for the girl who gets dirty with him, or for the girl he wants to get dirty with?
This is where things get complicated, and for the first half of the series, there is memorable (though sluggish) sexual tension and believability in Makoto’s infidelity toward both Sekai and Katsura. Whom does he like? Answer: both. Unfortunately, despite its poignancy on love and sex, School Days will never see the light of American television; you can thank the gratuitous sex, nudity and rape. That’s right, the “r” word – couldn’t have a show about betrayal and relationships with the “r” word.
By the story’s end, Makoto has the best year ever, having more affairs than Zeus, and less regret than a guest on Jerry Springer. I do not particularly recommend this series to experienced fans (let alone newbies); it’s just a bit too torpid. This anime is a carefully composed cautionary tale about the fruits of lust, and, though a bit exaggerated, a clear statement on the confusing physical dependence of adolescent sexual awakening.
Half of me wants to recommend School Days because of the frightening bait-and-switch and treatment of high school sexual promiscuity. The other half wants to know how a series this twisted was ever pitched to a producer. Perchance it went something like this:
“Thank you for meeting with me, Mister Producer.”
“So let’s hear your idea, TNK studios.”
“Well, we wanna do a high school romance. We wanna start casual and light-hearted… then rape half the cast.”
“…go on…”
Makoto Itou has a secret crush on the beautiful, shy girl that rides the train with him every morning to school. She is Katsura Kotonoha: quiet, clean, and beautiful. One of Makoto’s classmates, the free-spirited Sekai, collaborates with him to help him get his mojo working. School Days begins with the light-heartedness of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, develops slower than Julius Caesar, and switches gears to spiral into an ending that would make Othello squirm.
Beautiful animation is paired with unusually overt dialog. The director is very careful to emphasize the character’s cell phone texting as their sole means of honest self-expression, since everyone is lying to someone else in this series just to keep Makoto and Sekai happy together. There is almost no music, but the sound of trains and ringing cell phones sets the lackluster pace of the series.
In order to make Makoto more comfortable around Katsura, Sekai puts him through special training…and that’s when things turn ecchi. Sekai literally throws herself at Makoto, saying that it’s “just practice” and not to be taken seriously. But of course she secretly loves him and longs to make Makoto hers. Now comes Makoto’s inner struggle: does he go for the girl who gets dirty with him, or for the girl he wants to get dirty with?
This is where things get complicated, and for the first half of the series, there is memorable (though sluggish) sexual tension and believability in Makoto’s infidelity toward both Sekai and Katsura. Whom does he like? Answer: both. Unfortunately, despite its poignancy on love and sex, School Days will never see the light of American television; you can thank the gratuitous sex, nudity and rape. That’s right, the “r” word – couldn’t have a show about betrayal and relationships with the “r” word.
By the story’s end, Makoto has the best year ever, having more affairs than Zeus, and less regret than a guest on Jerry Springer. I do not particularly recommend this series to experienced fans (let alone newbies); it’s just a bit too torpid. This anime is a carefully composed cautionary tale about the fruits of lust, and, though a bit exaggerated, a clear statement on the confusing physical dependence of adolescent sexual awakening.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Origin: Spirits of the Past
When Funimation claims a gem from Gonzo, they put their heart and soul into doing a great job. Origin: Spirits of the Past is a great gateway anime for people waiting for the next Miyazaki flick.
The story is post-apocalyptic and easy enough to follow. Years ago, “the forest” became a dragon and attacked from its secret base: the moon! Now, the remains of mankind live in the overgrowth ruins of toppled-over cities, trying desperately to coexist with a very dominant and sentient forest. If they do not respect the forest’s authori-tah, the forest will go Swamp Thing on mankind’s ass and steal back the remaining water. Our protagonist, a young boy named Agito, discovers a girl from the past sealed in suspended animation, Toola. Together, they will learn what caused Earth’s drastic shift and discover a way to bring the forest and man together. For hardcore environmentalists, this is yet another film that caters to your self-righteous dogmas.
Origin is a bit of Princess Mononoke without the animals, a bit of Naussica without the flying, and has a walking volcano fortress. Thus, something for everyone. It follows a perfect three-act structure, though several scenes and character choices and seem unearned and rushed for the sake of preserving an hour-and-a-half runtime. The visuals are astounding, from tidal waves to the vehicle designs to the encompassing forest, which is as gentle as it is hostile. This film really captures the beauty of a skeletal sky-scraper sheathed beneath a mossy skin. The soundtrack has the heartfelt ambience you’d expect from an anime aimed at Japanese teenagers. Which is fine for me considering I still think of myself as a teenaged Japanese girl.
The American voice acting is superb, and the script matches very well with absolutely no awkward translation errors, so kudos to John Burgmeier’s work. Burgmeier also provides the voice of Shunack, the film’s very believable and sympathetic villain. Great performances also spring from the well of talents named Christopher Patton (Agito) and Carrie Savage (Toola).
Origin does well to create an original world of decay and growth, destruction and creation. It does very well as a cautionary tale about the corruption of power (both by the forest and man’s technological drive for success.) Frankly I wasn’t expecting such a well-constructed argument. The philosophy of Origin lies somewhere between Transcendentalism and Buddhist detachment from past desires; and oddly enough the difficult dramatic decision lies with both Agito and Toola. Still, in the end, forest=good, fire=bad, drop-kicking a flaming hunk of magma=badass. This was an all-around excellent visual romp that planted its seed in my heart and took root.
The story is post-apocalyptic and easy enough to follow. Years ago, “the forest” became a dragon and attacked from its secret base: the moon! Now, the remains of mankind live in the overgrowth ruins of toppled-over cities, trying desperately to coexist with a very dominant and sentient forest. If they do not respect the forest’s authori-tah, the forest will go Swamp Thing on mankind’s ass and steal back the remaining water. Our protagonist, a young boy named Agito, discovers a girl from the past sealed in suspended animation, Toola. Together, they will learn what caused Earth’s drastic shift and discover a way to bring the forest and man together. For hardcore environmentalists, this is yet another film that caters to your self-righteous dogmas.
Origin is a bit of Princess Mononoke without the animals, a bit of Naussica without the flying, and has a walking volcano fortress. Thus, something for everyone. It follows a perfect three-act structure, though several scenes and character choices and seem unearned and rushed for the sake of preserving an hour-and-a-half runtime. The visuals are astounding, from tidal waves to the vehicle designs to the encompassing forest, which is as gentle as it is hostile. This film really captures the beauty of a skeletal sky-scraper sheathed beneath a mossy skin. The soundtrack has the heartfelt ambience you’d expect from an anime aimed at Japanese teenagers. Which is fine for me considering I still think of myself as a teenaged Japanese girl.
The American voice acting is superb, and the script matches very well with absolutely no awkward translation errors, so kudos to John Burgmeier’s work. Burgmeier also provides the voice of Shunack, the film’s very believable and sympathetic villain. Great performances also spring from the well of talents named Christopher Patton (Agito) and Carrie Savage (Toola).
Origin does well to create an original world of decay and growth, destruction and creation. It does very well as a cautionary tale about the corruption of power (both by the forest and man’s technological drive for success.) Frankly I wasn’t expecting such a well-constructed argument. The philosophy of Origin lies somewhere between Transcendentalism and Buddhist detachment from past desires; and oddly enough the difficult dramatic decision lies with both Agito and Toola. Still, in the end, forest=good, fire=bad, drop-kicking a flaming hunk of magma=badass. This was an all-around excellent visual romp that planted its seed in my heart and took root.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Basilisk
“To the one I love; prepare to die.”
A time of ninjas and shoguns. The 400-year-old peace pact between the warring Iga and Kouga ninja clans has been abolished. Now, to decide the political fate of Japan, the top ten of both clans must battle to the bitter bloody end. Yes!
Tragically caught in the middle are Gennosuke and Oboro, leaders of each clan, who must bury their love and hopes of peace to carry out the bloody fate of their clans. No, not love! It’s West Side Story without the dancing. Yes! It’s Romeo and Juliet except Romeo could use Samurai Jack as dental floss! Halleluiah!
What sets Basilisk apart is its stunning production budget. Fast-moving action scenes are balanced with white-outs, magnificent landscape shots and surrealist super-powers that make Naruto’s displays of power look like a dollar-store Christmas wreath.
Basilisk, despite being a ninja show about ninja blowing apart other ninja using ninja techniques, is loaded with driven, believable and empathetic characters. By halfway through the series, when we are down to the final five on either side, trust has been betrayed, loyalties have been forsook, and slaughter is impending. Yes! Granted, the ninja powers defy logic in a way that would make Stan Lee blush, but it doesn’t worry about creating a magic system for the sake of marketing and video game copyrights. Sure, the old guy with the elf ears can stretch his arms infinitely and the paraplegic has a 12-foot sword down his throat, but so what – bloodshed!
The deaths can be just as sudden and surprising as the narrow escapes. You feel the imminent danger in every scene, and the consequences are palpable. These are awesome fights that are spaced out very well with compelling, though predictable, scenes of loyalty, fury, and startling compassion.
Funimation grabbed a hold of this series as soon as they could, though its constant soft core rape scenes and oceans of blood will keep it off Adult Swim indefinitely. I chose to watch the whole series dubbed, and it turned out far easier to follow than the subtitles. Though some characters seem mismatched, and the choppy rhythm falls short as it many dubs, it still holds together well. What hurts Basilisk is the melodramatic performance on both ends for the part of Oboro, who is sadly a flat, generic innocent girl, and there is only so much you can do with imaginative dialogue like, “I love you too much to fight you,” and “Anakin, you’re breaking my heart.” Hint, hint, George Lucas.
I didn’t expect much from Basilisk, but now I have seen its true power, and I will never underestimate Gonzo again.
A time of ninjas and shoguns. The 400-year-old peace pact between the warring Iga and Kouga ninja clans has been abolished. Now, to decide the political fate of Japan, the top ten of both clans must battle to the bitter bloody end. Yes!
Tragically caught in the middle are Gennosuke and Oboro, leaders of each clan, who must bury their love and hopes of peace to carry out the bloody fate of their clans. No, not love! It’s West Side Story without the dancing. Yes! It’s Romeo and Juliet except Romeo could use Samurai Jack as dental floss! Halleluiah!
What sets Basilisk apart is its stunning production budget. Fast-moving action scenes are balanced with white-outs, magnificent landscape shots and surrealist super-powers that make Naruto’s displays of power look like a dollar-store Christmas wreath.
Basilisk, despite being a ninja show about ninja blowing apart other ninja using ninja techniques, is loaded with driven, believable and empathetic characters. By halfway through the series, when we are down to the final five on either side, trust has been betrayed, loyalties have been forsook, and slaughter is impending. Yes! Granted, the ninja powers defy logic in a way that would make Stan Lee blush, but it doesn’t worry about creating a magic system for the sake of marketing and video game copyrights. Sure, the old guy with the elf ears can stretch his arms infinitely and the paraplegic has a 12-foot sword down his throat, but so what – bloodshed!
The deaths can be just as sudden and surprising as the narrow escapes. You feel the imminent danger in every scene, and the consequences are palpable. These are awesome fights that are spaced out very well with compelling, though predictable, scenes of loyalty, fury, and startling compassion.
Funimation grabbed a hold of this series as soon as they could, though its constant soft core rape scenes and oceans of blood will keep it off Adult Swim indefinitely. I chose to watch the whole series dubbed, and it turned out far easier to follow than the subtitles. Though some characters seem mismatched, and the choppy rhythm falls short as it many dubs, it still holds together well. What hurts Basilisk is the melodramatic performance on both ends for the part of Oboro, who is sadly a flat, generic innocent girl, and there is only so much you can do with imaginative dialogue like, “I love you too much to fight you,” and “Anakin, you’re breaking my heart.” Hint, hint, George Lucas.
I didn’t expect much from Basilisk, but now I have seen its true power, and I will never underestimate Gonzo again.
Cat Soup
Cat Soup
Not every film needs clever dialogue or a plot…but it helps. Cat Soup, the half-hour surrealist journey and nothing short of an amazing drug trip. The story follows two adorable cats who quest to find the missing half of the older sister-cat’s soul; from there it derails. A short piece with practically no dialogue, it has won several awards across the world, including “Best Short Film” at the 6th Fantasia Film Festival and “Excellence Prize” at Japan’s Media Arts Festival. Despite its international acclaim, I was surprised at its obscurity here in the states.
Cat Soup’s artistic success became a total surprise for director Mr. Blank. To him, Cat Soup is an animated tribute to a bizarre manga called Nekojiru, which is to Hello Kitty as Bizarro is to Superman. What surprised me was the dry treatment of injury and bloodshed in this film. While the soundtrack creates the ambiance of a child’s bedtime story, there is a significant amount of mutilation. Cat Soup meets many elements right in the center: cuteness and sadism, life and death, creation and destruction. It straddles a strange line between innocence and deviance, particularly for vegetarians or animal rights groups.
Some of the chapters run a little too parallel to the Bible for comfort: the flood of Genesis, the reversal world-destruction of the Book of Revelations, the fat man in bondage from…the Gospel according to Dr. Frank-N-Furter.
Being in the center of so much visual chaos, I can’t say I like or dislike Cat Soup. I wouldn’t have another spoonful without administering certain illegal stimuli, but I won’t discourage you readers from the joy of experimenting.
The jewel of this experimental movement is the imagery, loaded with enough dreamlike surrealism and symbolism to make Freud and Carl Jung soil themselves. Artist Salvador Dali was one of the aesthetic influences, and it shows, especially the sequence in the desert where the two cats hitch a ride inside a water elephant…take that as literally as you can.
Obviously, Cat Soup is not aimed at everyone, or anyone in particular. As director Tatsuo Sato (Ninja Scroll series and Shigofumi: Letters of the Departed) marks in his commentary, “just enjoy the imagery” because “you have to use your brain to watch this” odd, discolored jewel. It is funny in a detached way, cute in a creepy way, and downright confusing in every way. Cat Soup: to be eaten with a knife.
Not every film needs clever dialogue or a plot…but it helps. Cat Soup, the half-hour surrealist journey and nothing short of an amazing drug trip. The story follows two adorable cats who quest to find the missing half of the older sister-cat’s soul; from there it derails. A short piece with practically no dialogue, it has won several awards across the world, including “Best Short Film” at the 6th Fantasia Film Festival and “Excellence Prize” at Japan’s Media Arts Festival. Despite its international acclaim, I was surprised at its obscurity here in the states.
Cat Soup’s artistic success became a total surprise for director Mr. Blank. To him, Cat Soup is an animated tribute to a bizarre manga called Nekojiru, which is to Hello Kitty as Bizarro is to Superman. What surprised me was the dry treatment of injury and bloodshed in this film. While the soundtrack creates the ambiance of a child’s bedtime story, there is a significant amount of mutilation. Cat Soup meets many elements right in the center: cuteness and sadism, life and death, creation and destruction. It straddles a strange line between innocence and deviance, particularly for vegetarians or animal rights groups.
Some of the chapters run a little too parallel to the Bible for comfort: the flood of Genesis, the reversal world-destruction of the Book of Revelations, the fat man in bondage from…the Gospel according to Dr. Frank-N-Furter.
Being in the center of so much visual chaos, I can’t say I like or dislike Cat Soup. I wouldn’t have another spoonful without administering certain illegal stimuli, but I won’t discourage you readers from the joy of experimenting.
The jewel of this experimental movement is the imagery, loaded with enough dreamlike surrealism and symbolism to make Freud and Carl Jung soil themselves. Artist Salvador Dali was one of the aesthetic influences, and it shows, especially the sequence in the desert where the two cats hitch a ride inside a water elephant…take that as literally as you can.
Obviously, Cat Soup is not aimed at everyone, or anyone in particular. As director Tatsuo Sato (Ninja Scroll series and Shigofumi: Letters of the Departed) marks in his commentary, “just enjoy the imagery” because “you have to use your brain to watch this” odd, discolored jewel. It is funny in a detached way, cute in a creepy way, and downright confusing in every way. Cat Soup: to be eaten with a knife.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Tower of Druaga: The Aegis of Uruk
The Japanese studio Gonzo introduced a breakthrough in inter-continental television when it announced that two shows this season would be released online with English subtitles the same night as they premiered on television in Japan. So apparently they got my letters….Gonzo 1, Santa 0. Tower of Druaga can be found (and bought) legally by download or watched on the site at www.crunchyroll.com for fewer than three dollars an episode. Spoiler: it’s worth it!
Revolutionary marketing set aside, I found Tower of Druaga to be a magnificent classic high fantasy setting with memorable characters, ground-breaking scenery (gotta put a penny in the pun jar again), and a masterfully told story. This twelve-episode first season now owns my heart, hugging, teasing and scratching it like a middle school relationship.
Druga centers on a land ruled by King Gilgamesh, who, ages ago, scaled the Tower of Druga, the epitome of evil, and by using every cliché in the book, saved the princess and became king. Problem was the Tower still stands. Cities live in constant threat of the monsters that poor out of it, and much of the population dedicate themselves to becoming Climbers, adventurers who seek to climb the monstrosity and claim the Blue Crystal Rod on top.
Sounds like the set-up to every video game besides Pacman, doesn’t it? It is. In fact, Druaga was made in homage to an 8-bit video game of the same name. Just like in every story, our main character is a bright-eyed, loosely drawn “I-wanna-protect-my-friends-no-matter-what” type named Jil, whose only strength is his physical resilience and unbreakable shield. After being dumped from his powerful yet cold big brother Neeba’s party, Jil gathers a rag-tag band of losers in hopes of scaling the tower and becoming a hero.
This is a world filled with classes but no leveling up, magic but no MP. In short, Druga is a world where the video game is the world. Jil is joined by a dark-haired priestess named Kayaa, her patient powerhouse partner Amrey, the boastful aristocrat mage Melt and his assistant, Coopa, who is the greatest intern of all time. Once their party is assembled, they must compete with Uruk’s national army, a guerilla army of other Climbers, Neeba’s epic gang, and a malicious wind sorcerer.
So how did the script writer for Full Metal Panic, the character designer of Burst Angel and the director of Last Exile handle such material? With the tact, charm and humor of true fans. There are dramatic episodes which are well-written and full of pathos, but the true majesty of this series comes from the comedic episodes, which not only make video game references but turn the world into a classic 8-bit parody of the original game! I recommend episode five. That is all you need to know. Do not be scared away by the ridiculous delusion that was the first episode; it’s the greatest parody of action/fantasy anime I have seen this year.
Fantasy fans are in for a treat. Cosplayers should start milking this teat before next year’s season two premieres. Anime fans will have a great series to introduce their fantasy friends into anime. Why? Because the script, specifically its humor and ability to transform old jokes rather than rely on stereo-types and repetition. I stand in awe of Coopa’s comedic timing and golem-like strength that never gets addressed seriously. The animation is so pristine, I’d almost accuse Gonzo of putting all their eggs in one basket. Shading and weather effects are gracefully added, though the occasional computer-rendered monsters (Druaga himself, ew) prove distracting.
It’s a great climb, full of danger, magic missiles, dragons, knights, wizards, wizard interns, backstabs, and meaningful demises that builds up to the single most evil cliffhanger since the first season of Code Geass. Tower of Druaga wins, finds the Master Sword and obtains epic status.
Revolutionary marketing set aside, I found Tower of Druaga to be a magnificent classic high fantasy setting with memorable characters, ground-breaking scenery (gotta put a penny in the pun jar again), and a masterfully told story. This twelve-episode first season now owns my heart, hugging, teasing and scratching it like a middle school relationship.
Druga centers on a land ruled by King Gilgamesh, who, ages ago, scaled the Tower of Druga, the epitome of evil, and by using every cliché in the book, saved the princess and became king. Problem was the Tower still stands. Cities live in constant threat of the monsters that poor out of it, and much of the population dedicate themselves to becoming Climbers, adventurers who seek to climb the monstrosity and claim the Blue Crystal Rod on top.
Sounds like the set-up to every video game besides Pacman, doesn’t it? It is. In fact, Druaga was made in homage to an 8-bit video game of the same name. Just like in every story, our main character is a bright-eyed, loosely drawn “I-wanna-protect-my-friends-no-matter-what” type named Jil, whose only strength is his physical resilience and unbreakable shield. After being dumped from his powerful yet cold big brother Neeba’s party, Jil gathers a rag-tag band of losers in hopes of scaling the tower and becoming a hero.
This is a world filled with classes but no leveling up, magic but no MP. In short, Druga is a world where the video game is the world. Jil is joined by a dark-haired priestess named Kayaa, her patient powerhouse partner Amrey, the boastful aristocrat mage Melt and his assistant, Coopa, who is the greatest intern of all time. Once their party is assembled, they must compete with Uruk’s national army, a guerilla army of other Climbers, Neeba’s epic gang, and a malicious wind sorcerer.
So how did the script writer for Full Metal Panic, the character designer of Burst Angel and the director of Last Exile handle such material? With the tact, charm and humor of true fans. There are dramatic episodes which are well-written and full of pathos, but the true majesty of this series comes from the comedic episodes, which not only make video game references but turn the world into a classic 8-bit parody of the original game! I recommend episode five. That is all you need to know. Do not be scared away by the ridiculous delusion that was the first episode; it’s the greatest parody of action/fantasy anime I have seen this year.
Fantasy fans are in for a treat. Cosplayers should start milking this teat before next year’s season two premieres. Anime fans will have a great series to introduce their fantasy friends into anime. Why? Because the script, specifically its humor and ability to transform old jokes rather than rely on stereo-types and repetition. I stand in awe of Coopa’s comedic timing and golem-like strength that never gets addressed seriously. The animation is so pristine, I’d almost accuse Gonzo of putting all their eggs in one basket. Shading and weather effects are gracefully added, though the occasional computer-rendered monsters (Druaga himself, ew) prove distracting.
It’s a great climb, full of danger, magic missiles, dragons, knights, wizards, wizard interns, backstabs, and meaningful demises that builds up to the single most evil cliffhanger since the first season of Code Geass. Tower of Druaga wins, finds the Master Sword and obtains epic status.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Mnemosyne - The Daughters of Mnemosyne
Boobies! Bondage! Bloodshed!
And that’s just the opening credits!
I assume most of you are still reading…please ask your parents to leave the room now.
Due to the extreme graphic nature of this work of supernatural mystery, you cannot claim fandom to Mnemosyne without being labeled one of “those fans.” The kind that never leaves his basement except to post reviews of anime series like Mnemosyne. Nevertheless, every series deserves a chance to tell its story…right?
Rin Asogi’s day job as a jack-of-all-trades investigator is just a cover for her true identity. She, like a handful of other women around the world, has been touched by a time spore of the great tree Yggdrasil, the literal keeper of human memory. As a result, Rin is immortal (in both the Highlander and the Wolverine sense). Her habit of sticking her nose in criminals’ businesses makes her the target for extremely sick mercenaries. With each chapter of the six-episode mini-series, we learn another fact about her relationship to Yggdrasil and its plans for her while encountering the sadist of the day.
Due to Rin and her partner Mimi’s immortality, many years skip between episodes, going from 1990 to 2055, which was an interesting way to show Rin (and her fashion sense) as the only consistency over the years.
I like Rin. Built like Faye Valentine, iron-willed as Misato from Eva but somehow retaining her natural compassion. She assumes a very male role in order to protect her clients, but at the day’s end, she is still a woman grasping for affection. Her views on man’s fragility cause her to hold back many punches against the people trying to killer her. Though she can kick ass using an array of odd weaponry, including darts, chains and a shotgun-shell-loaded boxing glove, she gets her ass handed to her quite a bit. The ways she dies include, but are by no means limited to…
- Head trauma
- Shotgun
- Grenade
- Thrown through an airplane engine
- I-beam to the face
- Unnecessary surgery
No review of Mnemosyne would be complete without touching upon its key element: sadistic violence toward naked women. Good lord. Do not watch this anime while your parents, or people whom you wish to respect you, are in the same hemisphere.
Script-writer Hiroshi Ohnogi remained true to the original novel by sparing us no gory detail. The depravity in this series is enough to make Stephen King blush. Remember how those women become immortal? Men turn into powerful red-winged angels that dress like The Rocky Horror Picture Show meeting Hellraiser. These angels seek out immortals in order to embrace them in the throes of boundless sexual desire while literally chewing them to pieces.
Sex and violence become the same grotesque pulse that thrusts the story forward. Rin is persistently hunted by a seemingly immortal cyborg assassin who gets her pleasure from watching Rin squirm. Even worse is a fellow immortal named Apos, voiced in Japan by the same actor who does Gaara from Naruto. His boyish good looks don’t justify the pile of nude, impaled women he keeps in his gardens, hoping to one day add Rin to his collection, next to the tulips and the severed heads.
Since the nudity and violence are the aesthetic focus, the mysteries that Rin investigates are usually complicated and fluff that buy time between brutal slayings – don’t expect much from the mysteries, just be happy for the rare times that Rin is wearing pants and a shirt.
Still reading? It gets worse!
I actually like this series.
To see Rin beaten as badly as she is and still find the strength to fight back and protect her friends is downright inspiring, and I found myself choking from grief (as well as vomit) from the cliff-hangers that rock the second half of the series.
Obviously, this show is not for everyone. In fact, the people whom this graphic story is geared toward should probably register themselves at meganslaw.com. Still, I enjoy the soft ambience and electric guitar of Takayuki Negishi’s music, very reminiscent of the video game Parasite Eve. Visually, this is considerably low-budgeted, but the scene direction is superb. Shigeru Ueda (director of Blood + and Serial Experiments Lain) could have made the series extreme close-ups and talking heads, but he keeps the camera moving, focusing on Rin’s kinetic energy and honing time-passing montage sequences very well.
I will not openly encourage you to watch this show; but if you can handle the traumatic depravity of Elfen Lied and want older characters who don’t cry nearly as much, and you are mature enough to keep your hands where I can see them, seek ye the daughters of Mnemosyne.
And that’s just the opening credits!
I assume most of you are still reading…please ask your parents to leave the room now.
Due to the extreme graphic nature of this work of supernatural mystery, you cannot claim fandom to Mnemosyne without being labeled one of “those fans.” The kind that never leaves his basement except to post reviews of anime series like Mnemosyne. Nevertheless, every series deserves a chance to tell its story…right?
Rin Asogi’s day job as a jack-of-all-trades investigator is just a cover for her true identity. She, like a handful of other women around the world, has been touched by a time spore of the great tree Yggdrasil, the literal keeper of human memory. As a result, Rin is immortal (in both the Highlander and the Wolverine sense). Her habit of sticking her nose in criminals’ businesses makes her the target for extremely sick mercenaries. With each chapter of the six-episode mini-series, we learn another fact about her relationship to Yggdrasil and its plans for her while encountering the sadist of the day.
Due to Rin and her partner Mimi’s immortality, many years skip between episodes, going from 1990 to 2055, which was an interesting way to show Rin (and her fashion sense) as the only consistency over the years.
I like Rin. Built like Faye Valentine, iron-willed as Misato from Eva but somehow retaining her natural compassion. She assumes a very male role in order to protect her clients, but at the day’s end, she is still a woman grasping for affection. Her views on man’s fragility cause her to hold back many punches against the people trying to killer her. Though she can kick ass using an array of odd weaponry, including darts, chains and a shotgun-shell-loaded boxing glove, she gets her ass handed to her quite a bit. The ways she dies include, but are by no means limited to…
- Head trauma
- Shotgun
- Grenade
- Thrown through an airplane engine
- I-beam to the face
- Unnecessary surgery
No review of Mnemosyne would be complete without touching upon its key element: sadistic violence toward naked women. Good lord. Do not watch this anime while your parents, or people whom you wish to respect you, are in the same hemisphere.
Script-writer Hiroshi Ohnogi remained true to the original novel by sparing us no gory detail. The depravity in this series is enough to make Stephen King blush. Remember how those women become immortal? Men turn into powerful red-winged angels that dress like The Rocky Horror Picture Show meeting Hellraiser. These angels seek out immortals in order to embrace them in the throes of boundless sexual desire while literally chewing them to pieces.
Sex and violence become the same grotesque pulse that thrusts the story forward. Rin is persistently hunted by a seemingly immortal cyborg assassin who gets her pleasure from watching Rin squirm. Even worse is a fellow immortal named Apos, voiced in Japan by the same actor who does Gaara from Naruto. His boyish good looks don’t justify the pile of nude, impaled women he keeps in his gardens, hoping to one day add Rin to his collection, next to the tulips and the severed heads.
Since the nudity and violence are the aesthetic focus, the mysteries that Rin investigates are usually complicated and fluff that buy time between brutal slayings – don’t expect much from the mysteries, just be happy for the rare times that Rin is wearing pants and a shirt.
Still reading? It gets worse!
I actually like this series.
To see Rin beaten as badly as she is and still find the strength to fight back and protect her friends is downright inspiring, and I found myself choking from grief (as well as vomit) from the cliff-hangers that rock the second half of the series.
Obviously, this show is not for everyone. In fact, the people whom this graphic story is geared toward should probably register themselves at meganslaw.com. Still, I enjoy the soft ambience and electric guitar of Takayuki Negishi’s music, very reminiscent of the video game Parasite Eve. Visually, this is considerably low-budgeted, but the scene direction is superb. Shigeru Ueda (director of Blood + and Serial Experiments Lain) could have made the series extreme close-ups and talking heads, but he keeps the camera moving, focusing on Rin’s kinetic energy and honing time-passing montage sequences very well.
I will not openly encourage you to watch this show; but if you can handle the traumatic depravity of Elfen Lied and want older characters who don’t cry nearly as much, and you are mature enough to keep your hands where I can see them, seek ye the daughters of Mnemosyne.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Podcast with Anigamers
For anyone interested, Vampt Vo and I will soon be posting our podcast-style review of Production I.G's Ghost Hound at www.anigamers.com.
Is this the beginning of something far larger for Uncle Yo? Only time will tell.
Post your comments, let us know what we did right, what we did wrong, and how we can cater to YOU and be the best little podcast we can be.
In quick news, a shout-out to Otaku Mex in Albuquerque, New Mexico and the New York Anime Fest. Good times will soon be had by all.
Is this the beginning of something far larger for Uncle Yo? Only time will tell.
Post your comments, let us know what we did right, what we did wrong, and how we can cater to YOU and be the best little podcast we can be.
In quick news, a shout-out to Otaku Mex in Albuquerque, New Mexico and the New York Anime Fest. Good times will soon be had by all.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Wrath of the Ninja
Wrath of the Ninja: the Yotoden Movie is one of those classic anime that is quickly sinking into obscurity. Not quite as detailed or bloody as Ninja Scroll, not as political as Rurouni Kenshin and not nearly as silly as Naruto, this movie still strikes hard at any classic anime fan’s heart like a spring-loaded dagger.
To make this review interesting, we’re going to turn this review into a drinking game. Every time I mention a cliché in this movie’s plot, I want you all to take a drink from whatever you’ve got.
The Japanese Middle Ages: Our hero is a determined and level-headed young ninja woman named Ayame, the sole survivor of her village. Before the demons could consume her, her brother (in a drawn-out and much-repeated flashback) gives her the village’s super-awesome short sword with which she may rid the world of evil and stop the evil lord Nobunaga Oda from taking over the world. Along her merry way, she gains two friends, other rogue ninja who also possess legendary weapons: a spear and a long sword. They travel, smiting evil until it comes down to Ayame and Oda (now transformed into something that would make Inuyasha’s Naraku retch) and, having screamed the loudest, blows him apart in a big bright explosion, thus bringing the ending credits to the screen.
Though it is unfair to review Wrath of the Ninja without the three-episode OAV Yotoden, WotN is still a pretty solid example of fantasy ninja before chakra was introduced. The retro blurred backgrounds, mysterious supporting characters and destiny-babble do not subtract from the charm of this classic. What can really grind your nerves about this movie is the absence of originality; this is a great anime if you want to parody existing anime.
Granted, the pacing and odd transitions in time, as well as the emotional distance of the main characters makes this a hard one to watch with friends; rather than watching the screen, you may find yourself looking at your watch instead.
To make this review interesting, we’re going to turn this review into a drinking game. Every time I mention a cliché in this movie’s plot, I want you all to take a drink from whatever you’ve got.
The Japanese Middle Ages: Our hero is a determined and level-headed young ninja woman named Ayame, the sole survivor of her village. Before the demons could consume her, her brother (in a drawn-out and much-repeated flashback) gives her the village’s super-awesome short sword with which she may rid the world of evil and stop the evil lord Nobunaga Oda from taking over the world. Along her merry way, she gains two friends, other rogue ninja who also possess legendary weapons: a spear and a long sword. They travel, smiting evil until it comes down to Ayame and Oda (now transformed into something that would make Inuyasha’s Naraku retch) and, having screamed the loudest, blows him apart in a big bright explosion, thus bringing the ending credits to the screen.
Though it is unfair to review Wrath of the Ninja without the three-episode OAV Yotoden, WotN is still a pretty solid example of fantasy ninja before chakra was introduced. The retro blurred backgrounds, mysterious supporting characters and destiny-babble do not subtract from the charm of this classic. What can really grind your nerves about this movie is the absence of originality; this is a great anime if you want to parody existing anime.
Granted, the pacing and odd transitions in time, as well as the emotional distance of the main characters makes this a hard one to watch with friends; rather than watching the screen, you may find yourself looking at your watch instead.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Dominion Tank Police
The futuristic city of Newport is an endless pile of harsh, unwelcoming buildings stewing under a perpetual dark “bacteria cloud.” Every 36 seconds, a crime is committed (beat that, Detroit.) To protect the city, the Tank Police are formed; madmen with big mouths, bigger guns, and less moral guidance than Million Knives.
Masamune Shiro, known most for his iconic work Ghost in the Shell, has spent a career imaging man’s parallel evolution with machinery and their effect on each other. For DTP, he decided to once again question the line between authentic humanity and artificial humanity, a topic that’s just a tad too deep for an anime with two strippers on the DVD’s cover.
Our four episodes center on the initiation of Leona, the first girl to transfer into the testosterone-saturated Tank Police. As she learns the way of the Newport City Tank Police, she builds her own mini-tank named Bonaparte, something resembling a Dalek from Dr. Who but with nastier treads. Her journey becomes one of initiation, acceptance, and finally a literal struggle for justice vs. pride. She’s cute, impulsive and stubborn as most girls who drive assault vehicles, but her development remains relative.
Becoming a viewer of the Tank Police is reveling in the frat house level of maturity and pride of captain “Britain” (on my translation at least) and the rest of the loosely-drawn squad. These guys regularly patrol the streets en mass, causing more destruction than the Big-O and turning enhanced interrogation into a game show complete with betting, bunny girls and throwing knives!
Oddly enough, the character whom Shiro forces the most sympathy for is the main antagonist Buaku, a small-time crook with big-time weapons. Buaku and his partners, twin gun-enthusiasts/strippers Anna and Umi, a clash between the American Gladiators and Thundercats, begin by assaulting a hospital for “perfectly healthy people” in order to steal jars of urine. No, no, you read that correctly: pee-pee. Once they fail at that, Buaku goes for a priceless painting, only to be thwarted again by the Tank Police. It is in this second arc that the story sacrifices its pacing for a deeper message on the self-imposed value of life.
Don’t get me wrong; there are many tanks. Big tanks.
Thus, there are explosions. Big explosions. No character can take center stage over Shiro’s masterful detail and imagination in his armored vehicles.
What keeps this OVA a step below Ghost in the Shell is the sluggish pacing combined with its desire to leave everything as open-ended as possible. Dominion Tank Police runs into the same problem that Full Metal Panic did in that it tries to combine a high-tech cop drama with another conflicting genre. For DTP, it was the final episode’s delve into surrealism and philosophical drivel that collapses the story into the anime cliché of flashbacks and rhetorical questions.
Still, slow scenes and loose plot set aside, Masamune Shiro’s DTP is a must-see for fans of the mecha-cop genre. Patlabor, Appleseed, Ghost in the Shell, and Armitage III fans will revel in the detail of all things mechanical. Not quite as aloof or high-brow as Ghost in the Shell, but a lot more fun to watch in a crowded room full of open-minded people.
Masamune Shiro, known most for his iconic work Ghost in the Shell, has spent a career imaging man’s parallel evolution with machinery and their effect on each other. For DTP, he decided to once again question the line between authentic humanity and artificial humanity, a topic that’s just a tad too deep for an anime with two strippers on the DVD’s cover.
Our four episodes center on the initiation of Leona, the first girl to transfer into the testosterone-saturated Tank Police. As she learns the way of the Newport City Tank Police, she builds her own mini-tank named Bonaparte, something resembling a Dalek from Dr. Who but with nastier treads. Her journey becomes one of initiation, acceptance, and finally a literal struggle for justice vs. pride. She’s cute, impulsive and stubborn as most girls who drive assault vehicles, but her development remains relative.
Becoming a viewer of the Tank Police is reveling in the frat house level of maturity and pride of captain “Britain” (on my translation at least) and the rest of the loosely-drawn squad. These guys regularly patrol the streets en mass, causing more destruction than the Big-O and turning enhanced interrogation into a game show complete with betting, bunny girls and throwing knives!
Oddly enough, the character whom Shiro forces the most sympathy for is the main antagonist Buaku, a small-time crook with big-time weapons. Buaku and his partners, twin gun-enthusiasts/strippers Anna and Umi, a clash between the American Gladiators and Thundercats, begin by assaulting a hospital for “perfectly healthy people” in order to steal jars of urine. No, no, you read that correctly: pee-pee. Once they fail at that, Buaku goes for a priceless painting, only to be thwarted again by the Tank Police. It is in this second arc that the story sacrifices its pacing for a deeper message on the self-imposed value of life.
Don’t get me wrong; there are many tanks. Big tanks.
Thus, there are explosions. Big explosions. No character can take center stage over Shiro’s masterful detail and imagination in his armored vehicles.
What keeps this OVA a step below Ghost in the Shell is the sluggish pacing combined with its desire to leave everything as open-ended as possible. Dominion Tank Police runs into the same problem that Full Metal Panic did in that it tries to combine a high-tech cop drama with another conflicting genre. For DTP, it was the final episode’s delve into surrealism and philosophical drivel that collapses the story into the anime cliché of flashbacks and rhetorical questions.
Still, slow scenes and loose plot set aside, Masamune Shiro’s DTP is a must-see for fans of the mecha-cop genre. Patlabor, Appleseed, Ghost in the Shell, and Armitage III fans will revel in the detail of all things mechanical. Not quite as aloof or high-brow as Ghost in the Shell, but a lot more fun to watch in a crowded room full of open-minded people.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Slayers - Spells, Swords and Slapstick at its Best
Every fantasy anime falls into many formulaic pitfalls: spells with English names, guys with big swords and even bigger hair, and demon beast resurrections. Slayers, the mid-nineties classic anime, has long ago been recognized as the standard for fantasy/action/comedy. There are many good reasons for this.
Newer fans may be interested to learn that Slayers was announced last month to begin production of a new season, hopefully airing next year. So the excitement has actually yet to begin. Think of this review as bringing an old friend into a new light before that friend is exhumed and revamped by today's computers to remove those unsightly wrinkles and mummy bandages.Explaining the plot to Slayers would waste more time than the filler arcs of Naruto. Simply put, Lina Inverse is the young, powerful sorceress who can claim more adversaries than Vash the Stampede. She and her badass (though thick-headed) swordsman companion, Gourry, traverse the land avoiding bandits, robbing from the rich to give to their stomachs, and blowing up everything else in between. Every thirteen episodes, an evil monster is reborn to destroy the world until Lina smashes it.
The first season, a convenient boxset sold by Funimation, can be found pretty cheaply these days, which only adds to the bargain of owning this series. Slayers, though slightly younger than Record of Lodoss War, plays through standard adventures with a barrage of zany characters that grow on you, delivering as many laughs as it does explosions. It features that old school cell-framed animation that your grandpappy remembers, which only contributes to the vintage pacing. One of my favorite situations takes place in a city populated by self-proclaimed “champions of justice.” As people charge forward to collect the bounty on Lina’s head, she and Gourry take turns keeping track of how many “champions of justice” they blow away in one blow, knocking down adversaries until Lina proves herself not to be the bad guy. Which is like selling pot to your parole officer.
What I love about the characters is how stereo-typical they can be while breaking the molds at the same time. Though morality is very clear-cut (good versus evil) anyone who proclaims themselves a force of either ultimately turns out to be false. Initially, the homunculus Zelgadas (eat your heart out Moonlight Knight) quickly shifts from villain to ally. The Red Priest Rezo is a world-renowned White Mage/Mother Theresa only until he can cure his own blindness. And best of all, Lina and Gourry never claim to be good or evil, just hungry.
I’m a sucker for old anime humor and mayhem on a medieval scale. Sometimes the pacing brings the action to a rough halt, especially when Lina explains the intricacies of the three schools of magic, but these scenes are few and far between. Slayers loves nothing more than blowing up the monster and getting to the next one. The voice acting is a very early job, one of Crispin Freeman and Lisa Ortiz’s firsts. Just for that, I’m gonna cut them a lot of slack on the mediocre production value.
Not the fantasy genre rewriter that Scrapped Princess turned out to be, but a Hellsing of a lot funnier. Grab your friends and dive into Slayers. Okay, so start at episode five, then grab your friends and dive in.
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