Paranoia Agent

You should know the name Satoshi Kon. Millennium Actress, Perfect Blue, Tokyo Godfathers, Paprika? The Hitchcock of anime decided after his first three movies that he had more ideas to play with, so what did he do? He dumped all his unused stories into a 13-episode mini-series that does to society what a starfish does to a fiddler crab. Look it up on Wikipedia – it’s awesome! And Paranoia Agent isn’t that bad, either.

The surrealist psychological drama centers upon the mystery of Shonen Bat (‘Lil Slugger in English), a mysterious young boy terrorizing emotionally cornered citizens with a bent, golden baseball bat. Ah, little league tee-ball; those were the days. Our lead detectives have no leads and each victim leads only to more dead ends as the murky legend of Shonen Bat reaches mythic, nearly super-natural proportions. The strangest part of these attacks: the victims lose their worldly troubles; their head traumas make them happier. Not very hard for the average Japanese cram school student, let me tell you. So just when you start to fear Shonen Bat, you start to respect him…then go right back to into being terrified, like a circus clown with a flamethrower.

Kon roped-in Seishi Manakami for the script. His goal was to shift perspectives by changing the main character in each episode, giving viewers a macrocosm of Shonen Bat’s influence. Each character gives a very personal POV into their individual case, personal struggle, and eventual encounter with Shonen Bat. Some episodes can be watched on their own as their characters have little relevance to the larger story. Such episodes are magnificent fillers, but Kon’s fingerprints are all over each of them. His grasp of human emotion, psychology and story structure are frighteningly accurate, which makes the black humor in Paranoia Agent even funnier and more poignant. If you laughed at Heath Leger in The Dark Knight, you’ll get a few sick chuckles out of episode eight.

What draws me to Paranoia Agent, from the old-fashioned detective to the reserved animator to the schizophrenic tutor to the fallen golden child to the lecherous reporter, was the pathos developed with every character. Every character is a case study for the psychological pressures of modern Japan. The situations are very believable and the stress of Tokyo almost becomes its own character as students, teachers, and the elderly are all equally pressed from all sides by the struggle to match society’s expectations.

As a testament to Satoshi Kon’s micromanagement prowess as a director, every episode features a repetitive sound that sets the pace and structure for the story. Speaking of sound, the bizarre pseudo-techno, dreamlike music of Susumu Hirasawa (Paprika, Berserk, and Millennium Actress) adds another level to this visual mind-screw into a scrambled but beautiful mess, like a naked rugby game during a hurricane.

During his interview on the first DVD, Kon mentioned his fascination over a child’s ability to create a stomach ache just to avoid going to school. Thematically, avoiding responsibility is the social and emotional paralysis that summons Shonen Bat. If you watch this series and keep “accountability” in mind, you will understand every symbolic shot in this series.

Obviously not for little kids, but this masterwork deserves at least a gander from any fan of Hitchcock, Memento, or Misery. For the ridiculously low price you can find it for, it deserves a spot on your shelf. The English dub is unmatched in its execution. It is exciting, dangerous, and visually dazzling stories like this that keep me watching anime.

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.

The Skull Man

Nothing hits the spot like a solid mystery, a gripping horror story, or an action-packed descent into darkness. The Skull Man sets the bar for modern gothic suspense without relying on the convoluted, philosophical and psychological dribble barrage of such series as Boogiepop Phantom and Serial Experiments Lain. While both great series in their place, Skull Man combines a killer storyline with solid action and gripping, linear human pathos.

Our plot is as follows: Ootomo City has more skeletons in its closet than the house in Spielberg’s Poltergeist; one of those skeletons is ready to slaughter your ass.

The main story is told through the eyes of Hayato Mikogami, an ambitious, young and fearless newspaper reporter from Tokyo. He comes to Ootomo to investigate the serial murders of a mysterious “skeleton costumed” man who only appears after midnight. Once he arrives, his bad luck accidentally partners him up with Kiriko Mamiya, a teenaged photographer with tomboyish charm to spare. Together, they uncover the links between the Skull Man, pharmaceutical companies, the resident cult, and the murderous mutants that prowl the streets during the night.

Sounds like a lot to handle for a thirteen-episode series? It is. But only by keeping the mystery and the intrigue alive does The Skull Man handle itself so skillfully. As any well laid-out mystery goes, every scene, every moment, and every murder only opens the door to the next clue. When Ootomo City approaches midnight, citizens are locked in their houses and police cars patrol the streets, turning the city into a prison. For all its details, Skull Man never loses the central mystery: the skull man’s true identity, and the reasons he terrorizes the city.

By episode two, Hayato meets Detective Shinjou, who tails him endlessly, convinced that Hayato is connected personally to the mysterious murders. Without his adopted uncle, a high-level bureaucrat watching his back, Hayato would be behind bars most of the series. With each new character they encounter, Hayato and Kiriko discover that the number of people they can trust is dwindling. Even at the halfway mark, when Kiriko’s true mission (not to mention martial arts skills) is revealed during a battle with her brother, is it clear that our characters are desperately over their heads.

Hayato has a small network of people he continuously pumps for leads (though unsuccessfully). One lead is an old childhood friend who became the town priest, who guides Hayato in his quest to seek the higher power and truth behind the Skull Man. Another is an older P.I, whose wisdom and nearly Goku-level of perfect timing seems to have stepped from the pages of noire pulp comics.

Some of the lighter moments, especially those between Kiriko and Hayato (who share great moments in their struggle for dominance in their partnership) soften the mood just before the next murder or devilish plot twist occurs. Hayato’s constant confrontations with the Skull Man drive him to obsession to discover the face beneath the mask, even facing the dangerous specter down at gunpoint. By the halfway mark, it is clear that The Skull Man frames Hayato’s embrace of his inner darkness to battle the greater darkness of Ootomo City’s hubris and political corruption.

Sounds pretty epic, don’t you think? Just imagine all that and some werewolves and a small battalion of mechanized maniacal army clowns with flame-throwers and rocket-launchers. Now we talking badass.

Religious imagery, especially those dealing with light, darkness and resurrection, recur faithfully in Skull Man. For example, the secretive Byakureikai cult (literally meaning white bell association) is grooming a key character to be their new Eve in the world they aim to create. While Ootomo City prides itself in its ever-present military-police force, the city does hold a striking Babylon parallel complete with tower. In the end, the Skull Man’s true purpose is to keep the executives of the pharmaceutical company’s power in check and dish out divine punishment to keep the citizens grounded. The Skull Man himself quotes Nietsche and MacBeth just to add to his creepy persona. Forget Tuxedo Mask from Sailor Moon, or Buffy: the Vampire Slayer’s Angel, the title character of this anime is relentless, haunting, and holds more “badass” in his belt buckle than Blood +’s Haji has in his whole cello case. The black leather, spring-loaded sais, German Luger and glowing red eyes are enough to haunt even the most desensitized viewer’s dreams.

Besides being a mystery, The Skull Man is also easily categorized as super-natural with elements of horror. Studio BONES (who put out Fullmetal Alchemist and Darker Than Black and, by extension, have a direct link to my heart and wallet) assembled a patchwork team of directors and writers to compose this piece. With a lot of violence and intense moments, this series would find difficulty in a younger fan base. Its maturity and complexity limit its target audience and, thus, its interest from American dubbing companies.

While The Skull Man’s pacing mirrors the DaVinci Code and results in that stereo-typical all-flash-and-zero-explanation ending that is inconclusive at best, it is still a very good mystery. Even the way its scenes are shot reveal something essential: characters over the phone, characters emerging from behind slightly ajar doors: Ootomo City can make any viewer feel like they are trapped in The Matrix. But I do offer fair warning that this is not a series with conclusive results, in fact, just stay true to the show’s tragic nature, it ends on a darkly lit here-we-go-again tone that shadows an even greater evil will soon come to pass.

For all its red herrings, dead ends and McGuffins, The Skull Man still cranks out a great story with more layers than an onion and a great balance of horror, tragic desire and hair-raising action. How it handled itself so well is the real mystery.