Watching the new Kino's Journey TV remake like most people who loved the original adaptation,  I was reminded what an incredible piece 2003's version is during the, "I sometimes wonder if I'm really just a terrible person..." monologue that begins the light novels. This isn't an insult to the makers of the most recent work and I understand if the following comes off as finding something to nag on right off the bat, but listening to the latest Kino constantly elaborate on what they mean in very specific language has a clear contrast to the stone cold confidence Ryutaro Nakamura and the staff of the original had in their atmosphere, in their visual narrative, and in their approach to portraying the light novels the franchise is based on.



The entire spiel is meant to spell out Kino's inner emotions and drive as a traveler, and what they hope to find on their journey while sharing a quiet conversation with talking motorcycle Hermes. In Keiichi Sigsawa's first light novel where the series originates from, Kino says–in what I confess could be completely botched by Tokyopop's lackluster translation–"I sometimes wonder if I'm really just a terrible person. Sometimes I feel like I am. Sometimes, it actually makes sense that I am. Because I can't change things; or worse – I just tell myself I can't, so I don't." It's a valid thought for Kino's malaise given what they experience, but it's also expressed in a general way so the reader can relate and put themselves in the traveler's shoes for the tales that follow.

In the 2017 version, Kino goes into it right off the bat with, "Sometimes I wonder... Am I a hopeless, foolish, petty person? Am I a really underhanded person? I'm not sure why, but sometimes I feel that way. Sometimes I can't see it any other way." The language here feels more specific and seems to localize exactly what Kino feels more than incorporating the viewer. Each version branches off to discuss how the beauty of the world they experience gives them life.

You know what 2003's version of this monologue is? It doesn't show up until episode 12 and more flows from reminiscing on a witnessed travesty in the supposed Country of Peace.  It is to underline their trying to put together motivation for their journey after witnessing multiple tragedies in their recent history that have left them shaken, even if they don't show it. It is important, yes, but it is one piece of information in Kino's story and not the key. The entry point for the character is instead a short vignette where Kino desperately tries to find cover in the desert and then tells Hermes the biggest asset for a traveler is luck as rains begin to fall down. The first episode then plays out one of the first light novel's main stories straight-up with a scene in a hotel to give a baseline for Kino's circumstances and ends with the series tagline in English, "THE WORLD IS NOT BEAUTIFUL. THEREFORE, IT IS." It more or less lets Kino be themselves without explaining what they are. This is a deliberate and planned approach that is wise and becomes wiser the deeper it's examined... even as the series itself doesn't put much stock in wisemen.

The difficulty in explaining Nakamura's rendition is it exists as it is. The heavy atmosphere, the more angular designs, the earthy color palette, the airy sound highlighted by light bell tones, the way thoughts drift in and out of a scene with text... all of these aspects seem just to the side of normal. However, it all flows throguh the work naturally to where it's strangely not noticeable, save the resolution lines of some tube television that could exist in the universe placed over the animation that might have been far less distracting before the widescreen HD revolution.



I did a retrospective of Ryutaro Nakamura's work after he died of cancer calling him the glue of his projects, perhaps not having his own voice, but being able to connect all the ideas visually to bring a project's full potential to life. That may have been a little too harsh for someone who has his own style (deliberate pacing that lingers on the dark and sometimes weird side of humanity), but he certainly doesn't get in the way of distinct writers like Chiaki Konaka. Eh, maybe Ghost Hound was a little too carefully atmospheric, but Konaka's massive pile of conspiracy theories and pseudo-science also didn't gel into the enthralling trip down the rabbit hole the director and writer's previous project Serial Experiments Lain is. In this case, Nakamura is teamed with writer Sadayuki Murai, a name that might not set off any familiarity sensors, but if you've spent a decent time around anime, you've ran into something he's written. He's worked with Satoshi Kon (Perfect Blue, Millennium Actress), Shinichiro Watanabe (A few episodes of Cowboy Bebop), Katsuhiro Otomo (Steamboy. Well, they can't all be winners...), and other household names of exceptionally nerdy homes. In this case, he fits like a glove with Nakamura since Murai also penned the anime adaptation of Boogiepop Phantom, which was essentially a bunch of people who saw and worked on Serial Experiments Lain saying, "Hey, let's do more of that."

The best way to describe Kino's Journey is that it's kind of like like The Twilight Zone, but there are main characters, a consistent universe, and it's not afraid to get outdoors and into the countryside. Kino is an androgynous traveler who is exploring the various countries of the world with their talking motorrad, Hermes (motorrad is pretty much a talking motorcycle, so I'll just say motorcycle). The countries are usually only defined by one thing, and that one thing generally has a twist to it.

The first episode, for instance, tackles the idea of a country where a drink is developed which allows everyone to read everyone else's thoughts. Kino sees the fallout of this, which is everyone living in cottages far apart from each other in the outskirts of an abandoned city. Rather than utilizing a suspenseful tone, it is curious and ultimately empathic by having the country's history revealed by a man talking about how he got together with his wife the night everyone in the country decided to drink the mind-reading concoction. The series usually presents these ideas in a personal manner, usually with characters who've lived through it and Kino to give the reaction of an outsider. The presentation allows the series to be thoughtful without being judgmental most of the time, though it makes itself very clear there are lines that can be crossed with Kino, who eventually deposes a vicious, hedonistic ruler and gives the people who garnered entertainment from his nature their just desserts.



To discuss how Nakamura and Murai's storytelling adds to even the original light novels, the first episode will have to be spoiled even further. What happened to the people is only revealed when Kino and Hermes takes a drive out to the countryside and finds a man watering his garden who seems deathly afraid of their approach. When he's settled down, it's revealed the thought drug made him realize the woman he was in love with loved him, too. Everything was fine for awhile until they started to be unable to hide the tiny, mean thoughts they had about each other, and trying to hide them made matters worse. Their relationship deteriorated and the rest of the population separated from each other in similar fashion.

This is all pretty much from the source material. What is changed is the ending. After Kino is done talking with the man in the book, she leaves, and that's that. In the anime, an additional couple moments are added where it turns out he has a rose garden. The many fights the couple had involved him hating her gardening and her hating his music. Wouldn't you know it, Kino passes by a home of a woman who's playing the very record the man played in their discussion earlier. It's a surprisingly sweet (Or perhaps bittersweet) touch on an tale that portrays the edge of truly knowing what's within your fellow human.

The rest of the series has a similar air of thoughtfulness. The very next episode is hailed as one of the greatest single short stories of anime, and for good reason. Kino finds a trio of merchants in the snow and slowly nurses them back to health. Without revealing too much, it becomes a rumination on the value of life: How much life is taken so a person can live, how much of this loss is "necessary" depending on the perspective, and what is a waste of life? These themes hover in the background as the characters eventually play their hand, and while the ending isn't how anyone wanted it to go, the series seems to take the approach that it's a damn shame.



Throughout the course of Kino's Journey, ideas such as humanity, religion, and even existence are tilted on their head and shown a perspective that–while it may not be new–gives pause for reflection. I don't think the countries themselves are literally meant to be taken as countries as much as they are purer versions of ideas and ideals stretched out for closer examination. Balancing out the higher minded aspects are microcosms of the society itself, which are the people: the devout believers, the corrupted individuals, those who live the opposite of what their culture deems fit, and so on. The anime never loses site of the humans who live and die by these laws and cultures. Anchoring it all is Kino, perhaps the most human part of the whole show.

The first couple episodes portray Kino as a competent person who seems have their life philosophy well in place. This is only derailed by their origin story, where they begin life as a girl whose name is constantly made fun of (And bleeped out by the show itself) and her childhood is planned to abruptly come to a halt in her country's most sacred (and disturbing) tradition. Inspired by a visiting traveler, she decides to shed her identity and become Kino, taking her soon-to-be companion in talking motorrad Hermes and rejecting the coming-of-age ceremony. This comes at the cost of the visiting traveller who is brutally murdered for filling the future Kino with the ideas that caused her to betray her village. Added to what we know and how certain conversations prompted by Hermes are brushed off early on, there's a much more vulnerable and unsure side of Kino that doesn't bubble to the surface often.

Notice I've been trying to use gender-neutral terms except in the origin episode. Kino doesn't really sweat gender and mostly has it imprinted on them depending where they go. I don't think this neutral way of portraying the character is making a statement so much as describing the character's mindset. Hermes and the people Kino meet try to ascertain what Kino wants to do or where they ultimately want to go, and there's never a solid answer even up to very end when Kino talks about Hermes about the importance of what to do next, but the way Nakamura uses text to sometimes show what's on their mind indicates that these questions do wear at them. That they don't really even consider themselves a specific sex feels like an offshoot of that (Though if gender-neutral people do want to see Kino as a character they can relate to and admire, knock yourselves out. Life is full of different interpretations). Even the rules they live by are not so much tempered by their beliefs as it is a fated encounter in the final episode.



What most struck me about re-watching the series is aside from their origin story which is in the first batch of episodes, Kino's character arc runs backwards. Early on, we see the firm foundations of how Kino and Hermes go about their business. They only stay in a country for three days and are old friends at this point. Kino has a keen sense of empathy with the people who cross their path and immense patience, understanding, and only takes to harsh action when the situation absolutely requires it. Fast-forward to episode 11, "Her Story," and Kino is outright frustrated with people after coming upon a former criminal who tries to atone for murdering an innocent man after his prison sentence by acting as the body guard for the widow. The widow promptly unloads a six-shooter into the bodyguard. Kino then runs into a non-violence advocate who walks through the most dangerous parts of her country and is only spared by having a traveling companion who secretly kills everyone who would threaten her. This part shows Kino relying on a heavy crutch of cynicism and simply moving on, dispensing advice when it's far too late to do any good. When Kino has to use their weapon to survive in the next episode, they are almost in shock they have to fire the gun at actual people, many who are simply victims of circumstance.

The structure shows Kino as a journey in of themselves. When Kino finds a person with a story, we mostly see them after they've gone through most of their ordeal, and only after peeling back the layers and does Kino have an understanding. This sneakily in the same method that shakes off the myth of Kino, leading to the final episode, a seemingly minor yarn about a warm and friendly village until Kino learns exactly why they are behaving as they are and the experience shakes her enough to treat her strict three-day rule as law (Which seems to have been abandoned in the new series' covering of the later stories, but that series will have its own day in the spotlight... or in court. Stay tuned....). At the end of this, there is an air of enlightenment similar to the ones in the individual countries and it all become clear. Without spoiling to much, it is Kino watching the happy life they could've had destroyed before their eyes. Even if it's more of a beginning than an ending, it only gets increasing devastating every time I watch it.

While I've been caught up in everything else, the aesthetics of the series are not to be ignored. One of the more curious bits of trivia is the soundtrack was never released. It makes sense in a way that Kino's Journey is an ecosystem where everything builds off of and relies on everything else. The music and the sounds seemingly arise from the world itself, the hum of the earth, the aura of a town, or the errant pinging at the back of Kino's mind. To separate the music from the anime would seem strange because without these people and places making the sounds, there wouldn't be anything creating the sounds, if that makes any sense. It can best described as the perfect soundscape people who make open-world RPGs try to create.



The visuals are an early 20th century fairy tale. While the technology varies wildly between countries, the look resembles Europe in the early 1900's where the old ways of living are colliding with the onset of modern invention (And even future invention in this case). Automated robots clean up brick streets. Men in dressed to the nines with a top hat and monocle ride on hover devices.  It opens up a world that hasn't been fully discovered, mapped, and seen with the introduction of vehicles like motorcycles so an individual without much wealth can see it all. One episode even touches upon the fact that flight is only being just discovered by most of the nations, opening up even more possibilities. It all comes off as people and places that could exist, but there's a slightly dream-like layer that allows the lands to act as the folktales and fables they are supposed to be. That may be overuse of an image warping effect that is used around a dozen times per episode, though. Digital animation at the start of the 2000s had a few quirks, and every upscale only underlines them more.

What it all amounts to is an anime that makes every correct choice to create the series it wants to be. As a person who's read a decent amount of the light novels, this is how it feels like the world would look, this is how it should sound, this is how it should resonate, and most importantly, this feels like how it should make you think. It covers the ugly, weird, tragic, ironic, but ultimately beautiful world the way Kino sees it, and it even does so somewhat burying the monologue Kino uses to describe it. That's not to say it can't be fun as well. One of my favorite episodes is about the nature of books, their fans, and their authors where Kino and Hermes start by reading a story that is obviously about them. The plot only gets more wildly meta from there and the turns are unexpected, though what is predictable is a story written originally in a light novel does not respect literary critics much.

As I've said, Ryutaro Nakamura tends to get underrated, even by me. Serial Experiments Lain is credited to the out-there writing of Chiaki Konaka and the art of Yoshitoshi ABe, but Nakamura is the one who brought it to life and gave it the essence it needed. If you've ever seen a Konaka script go off the rails (And conveniently enough for my article, Megan recently has! Thanks, Megan!), that's a real gift. And to make a nearly perfect adaptation of Kino's Journey, that's something special. My current anime Holy Grail is a long-delayed project called Despera Nakamura was supposed to direct, but that gigantic asshole cancer had other ideas. The list of people who can helm an anime that takes place in Japan's pre-WWII democratic society which has a title based on dadaist poetry is very thin, as the other creative forces trying to make it happen are finding....

As I hashed out this article, Hidive has started streaming 2003's Kino's Journey (Thankfully, as my decade-old computer has finally stopped reading DVDs and I had to find SOMEWHERE to gather images. Sorry for the watermarks). If you don't have a subscription, no problem! It's free to watch as long as you can stand the same 3-4 Sentai Filmworks ads. If you haven't checked it out, do.

There’s a Batman anime film slated for next year:


I’m sure that most of you are confused right now. Don’t worry, so am I. Simply saying “anime ninja Batman” is enough to wonder who conceptualized this wacky idea. I’m curious how the pitch went:


“I have an idea for a Batman film.”

“Okay! What’s it about?”

“Picture this: Batman is Batman, but with a samurai sword.”

“Uh…”

“And he uses the sword in combat.”

“What?”

“And he lives in a hybrid of Gotham City and Edo Era Japan.”

“Huh…”

“And the film is an anime.”

“…”

“And it’s directed by the guy who produced Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, written by the guy responsible for penning Oh! Edo Rocket, animated by the man responsible for Afro Samurai, composed by the man responsible for scoring Ai no Uta and starring Spike Spiegel’s seiyu.”

“…”

“Well?”

“You’re crazy…but I love it!”

*Sigh* Me and my imagination…


This is a weird set-up. I know Batman’s been to the future and a Russian terrorist, but this is a Mad Libs scenario. I’m tempted to check it out for novelty sake, as Lord knows Batman’s in need of a new take following the failure of The DCEU. This could either be the shot of adrenaline the character deserves, or Batman’s jumping the shark moment. (Though, to be honest, I already thought Batman branding criminals was that moment…)

Batman’s ninja incarnation, while bizarre, isn’t his first in anime. He was, after all, the star of Batman: Gotham Knight, a series of OVAs that took place in-between the events of Batman Begins and The Dark Knight. I didn’t mind Batman: Gotham Knight, but it’s pretty divisive amongst fans, with some considering it a bastardization of the character. So Batman Ninja, as this new film’s called, is anyone’s game.

The movie’s trailer also got me thinking about something that came up once at my old theatre job. See, Batman isn’t the first Western superhero to receive the anime treatment. With superheroes being the go-to for entertainment in recent years, plenty have been “Nippon-ified” for Asian consumers. And no other company has embraced this more than Marvel, with their characters getting several shows in Japan, complete with heavy metal/pop intros. So what does this mean?


I’ve been thinking about this convergence of anime in the mainstream for a while. If you’ll recall, I wrote a piece earlier this year, which was itself a follow-up to a much older piece, on Infinite Rainy Day about the anime bubble bursting in the West. I’m not the first to notice this, as we wound up with Neo Yokio on Netflix and two adaptations of beloved anime properties, Ghost in the Shell and Death Note, that failed to light up the world. Then there was Blade Runner Blackout 2022, which was meant as a tie-in to Blade Runner 2049 and has been reviewed by one of our other staff members. Either way, we’re getting a full-out dialogue between East and West now, with the streams flowing both ways.

But Batman Ninja is unique, for two reasons: superficially, it’s an original story. I know that some of the best Batman tales are original stories, but this is huge. Even when Batman’s veered into unique places, it was still grounded in a source. Batman Begins, for example, took heavy inspiration from Batman: Year One, even though it was an original story. Batman Ninja, however, is its own beast altogether.

More substantively, Batman Ninja’s also a wildly-original take on the Batman character. And I mean that in the most-sincere way possible. Batman’s had many reinterpretations since his gun-toting days of the 1920’s (look it up), but they’ve almost all stayed consistent to what Batman is: a caped-crusader that fights with gadgets and doesn’t murder people. He’ll beat you senseless, possibly even shatter some bones, but he draws the line at death. This is something Zack Snyder’s take on the character should’ve understood, but that’s already been bludgeoned to death by everyone else…


By giving Batman ninja armour and a katana, Batman Ninja’s done something unique and crossed the cultural divide. Granted, I’m surprised this hasn’t happened sooner; after all, he’s a ninja! If ninjas are already a Japanese concept, then why not go all the way and make him a samurai? I’d pay good money for that!

And that’s why the cultural barrier between East and West breaking down is a big deal. Because if Batman can be reinterpreted so dramatically, then who’s to stop other superheroes from doing the same? Why not make Iron Man an Astro Boy character? Why not make Spider-Man a ninja? And how about Thor as a Japanese deity? I’m positive the great minds in the East can come up with plenty of ideas in this vein if they’re already doing Batman, right?

Basically, at the end of the day, we’re gonna start seeing more cross-pollination as the barriers between East and West break down. This is really exciting, as it leads to many unique possibilities. Still, I hope the West takes cues from this and attempts more unique spins on classic anime adaptations too. I hope they also stay faithful to the spirit of what they’re adapting, since extremely-liberal adaptations haven’t worked in the past, but at least attempt it. Adaptation’s a game of stretching the limits of concept, and it’d be a shame if the West didn’t capitalize on this discourse.


As a final note, I’m curious how Batman Ninja will stretch the Batman mythos: will Batman kill people? Or will his katana be a test of how far he’ll go not to kill people? What will his Batcave look like? And how will his origin story be tweaked? So many questions remain, but I’m definitely excited!

On December 9th, 2017, the internet was graced with a trailer for Alita: Battle Angel. Despite this having been hyped for years, the trailer was met with mixed responses. Some fans were ecstatic that this was happening, especially given producer James Cameron’s recent fascination with the Avatar franchise. Others, however, were mad that it “didn’t quite look like they’d hoped”. And even others were confused as to how to react all.



I’m impartial. For one, the trailer, though competently-made, didn’t floor me. I’m also not a fan of the lead’s anime-style eyes, as they don’t look right outside of animation. And honestly, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse looks more-interesting. But the premise is unique, being a hybrid of dystopia and romance, the use of the “Lullaby of a Soldier” in the trailer well-matched, and given that I’ve fervently defendedReady, Player One’s film adaptation based on Steven Spielberg being the director, I’d be a hypocrite for trashing this movie.

This could go either way. On one hand, Western adaptations of Eastern source materials tend to suffer in translation. Either the material’s too bizarre for Hollywood, isn’t thematically respected, or simply doesn’t add much to the table. To-date, the number of great Hollywood films based on anime and Manga can be counted on one hand, a finger if you’re not including Speed Racer (though I was never a big fan of the show anyway.) So throwing another log on the pyre, this time in the form of a cult Manga, isn’t doing the anyone any favours.

Besides, we’ve seen this before, most-recently with Adam Wingard’s Death Note. You’ll no doubt recall that I wrote about the Netflix film and had this to say:

“…I’m not so sure that this film will fail because the cast isn’t Japanese. It might actually fail because it’s jamming too much into one film. If anything, I think Wingard and Netflix should’ve taken a cue from Japan and made this two or three films, so as to allow the story to breathe. I like how it’s a Netflix exclusive, especially since I’ve liked a lot of the Netflix original content I’ve seen, but being one film might choke it. And that’s probably worse than whitewashing, as it looks to be trying.”

I feel similarly about Alita: Battle Angel. The whitewashing of the story, if there’s any to be had, isn’t the core problem. Edge of Tomorrow was adapted from a Japanese Manga too, and it was surprisingly good (it also helped me cope with the trauma of my dad’s heart attack, but that’s for another day). What’s concerning is, in an attempt to be good, it forgetting to be, well, actually good. And that’s troubling because there’s potential for a good movie in there somewhere.

There’s also potential for the film to actually work. This isn’t some mangy, c-tier duo working on the film. Say what you will about James Cameron, both pre/post-Titanic, but he truly is a master of visual storytelling. I’m not his biggest fan, but as one of three people who didn’t mind Avatar, to the point of re-watching it twice, I’m fully-confident in him. And Robert Rodriguez, for all his missteps, is an interesting idea man. So who knows?

Remember that discourses in film take time to perfect. The Star Wars/Indiana Jones craze of the 70’s and 80’s spawned many imitators for years, and most of them sucked. It wasn’t until the early-2000’s that superheroes were taken seriously by Hollywood. And it wasn’t until Iron Man that the possibility of a cinematic superhero universe became a reality. Trends aren’t instantaneous, include many missteps and go nowhere if people don’t keep trying.


Anime/Manga-to-film adaptations are no different, as there’s definitely a demand for attempting a bridge in the discourse due to anime culture being slowly accepted into the mainstream. Will it require failure? Yes, it will. Will the constant strike-outs be cringe-worthy and painful? Absolutely! But unless there’s a constant attempt, how will we know what works?

It’s possible that I’m overly-optimistic. It’s possible that this is all a failed attempt by old executives in Hollywood to try being hip for a younger demographic. It’s also possible that Alita: Battle Angel will be another failure in a line of failures. It’s all possible.

But we’ll never know if we don’t try. I’m old enough to remember when good entries in the superhero genre were few-and-far-between, contrary to what nostalgic filmgoers claim. There was also a time when the idea of a crossover akin to The Avengers would’ve been seen as either a joke, or simply too-risky. And that sentiment was still felt in early-2012, merely a few months leading up to its release.


We should never stop trying with anime and Manga adaptations. Perhaps Alita: Battle Angel will be the one to break the curse? Perhaps it’ll be another failure? We won’t know until the time comes, will we?

Those weird eyes have to go, though. I don’t care how expensive the edits are, it’s not a good look for the lead. Besides, if director Ridley Scott can airbrush Kevin Spacey out of his latest movie and replace him with Christopher Plummer, then fixing Alita’s eyes isn’t out of the question, right?

Whitly hosts this episode as he invites Jonathan to discuss Clover Studio's masterpiece Okami. Click the title card to listen to the episode!

With 2018 right around the corner, I figured I’d discuss something that’s been bugging me about certain subsets of the Otaku community as of late:


In June of this past year, FUNimation voice actor Chris Ayres, known for his dub role of Frieza in Dragon Ball Z Kai, was admitted to a hospital in Texas following a near-fatal illness. I can’t claim to be an expert on the details, but it was sad to hear. Ayres’s been a steady actor in the Texas voice acting and ADR scene for years, and this sudden news was tragic.


Needless to say, not everyone thought the same. It’s not unreasonable to expect people to dislike certain actors and actresses’ acting abilities (I’m not big on Jerry Jewell’s work), but there’s a certain level of protocol expected when discussing their personal lives. Unfortunately, said protocol was violated following Ayres’s news, as many critics of anime dubs blasted Ayres as a person and called his illness “justice” for “ruining a beloved character forever”. The backlash became so bad that Chris Patton got involved and Tweeted his frustrations:

“There are "anime fans" making shitty comments about Chris Ayres being ill because he's a dub actor... seriously. If you've let "fandom" consume you this much, and turn you into this much of a monster, perhaps consider whether you really are a human being.”

Ouch!


He’s right. Say what you will about Chris Ayres as an actor, or an ADR director, but shaming him because he does voice acting is crossing the line. Period. VAs are still people, still prone to the same illnesses as people and, therefore, deserve the same level of respect when they fall ill as people. This is no exception.

Patton’s response, though a bit extreme, was echoed by several VAs in the Texas dubbing scene. Ayres deserved better, and that his friends and co-workers stood up for him was truly heartwarming. It also reflected poorly on his detractors; after all, Ayres is one guy. He’s not the only person responsible for dubbing anime. Why single him out?

If you’ll recall, discussing and criticizing dubbing on Infinite Rainy Day isn’t new for me. It’s my modus operandi, so to speak. So whenever I have a chance to criticize or defend dubbing, like now, I take it. And this deserves defence simply because of how absurd it is.


Let’s start with how dubbing isn’t the sole responsibility of one person. I recently watched a video essay that discussed the nuances of the dubbing scene, how it works and why so many VAs sound so “similar”. The gist was that, like it or not, voice acting doesn’t exist in a bubble. VAs often have years of experience in their field, similar to their Japanese counterparts, and they’re frequently used and reused because of their range and talent. This is doubled by certain ADR directors favouring specific VAs, much like live-action directors, because they work well together and can get their best performances from them. Bottom line, dubbing’s a multi-effort industry.

However, people tend to point at one or two individuals in particular, namely those that stick out the most, when something goes wrong. From a certain angle, this makes sense: the average person isn’t familiar with the intricacies of a mass-collaboration art form, so they gravitate to whomever they recognize most. If you want an example, Jake Lloyd, the actor who played Anakin Skywalker in Star Wars Ep. I: The Phantom Menace, was blamed for years for “ruining Star Wars”. This included bullying and shaming, to the point that Lloyd burned his Star Wars memorabilia, disavowed acting and slowly spiralled into delinquency in his later years.

The issue with pointing to one person specifically for “ruining” something beloved is that, more often than not, that person isn’t solely responsible for said property being ruined. It’s like Mark Hamill, the actor who played Luke Skywalker, said in an interview: Jake Lloyd was doing what was expected of him. Remember, he was 9 years old when the movie came out. Child actors are hard enough to train as is, so why would anyone expect him to deliver on all fronts even if you ignored what we got? Is that really fair?


Jake Lloyd is a microcosm for the daily stresses people face in entertainment. Acting’s hard work, after all. People spend many years honing their craft, and many give up along the way. The ones you see are usually because they persisted, because someone liked them enough to give them a chance, or both. Doubly-so with voice acting, which I’d argue is even harder than regular acting because all the work has to go into the voice alone.

When a performance “fails”, it could be for numerous reasons. Perhaps the person in question was having an off-day? Perhaps the person in question was miscast? Perhaps the director was bad at communicating what they wanted? Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

This goes even more so when a talented individual does a good job, but can’t meet unrealistic expectations. Rey, from the newest Star Wars movies, is a perfect example. She’s one of the best parts, due largely to Daisy Ridley’s immense charisma and charm, yet she’s seen pushback from angry fans insisting that she’s a “Mary Sue” and “SJW pandering”. It’s plagued her character unjustly since 2015, and it doesn’t seem to be going away.


I mention this because it’s important to treat an actor or actress with a realistic level of respect even if you don’t like them. They’re giving up their time and energy to entertain you, time and energy they’re not getting back. When they’re shafted for something they have no control over because you don’t like what they had to offer, well…it’s dirty and unfair. Chris Ayres, whose only real crime was voicing a character that was already beloved in another language, is no different. And it breaks my heart to see him not given the dignity he deserves.

It also hurts personally because of my own situation. Right around the time I started writing for Infinite Rainy Day, my dad suffered a near-fatal heart attack. He’s fine now, but the Summer of 2014 was a living nightmare that I’m amazed I got through. Having to wait day-after-day, listening to the news and feeling the anxiety of those close to me, in hopes that something positive would come from this mess was excruciating, and even now, three years later, I occasionally see the side-effects of my dad’s trauma. I can only imagine how much worse it’d be if my dad was a famous actor with the burden of angry fans on his shoulders every day.

I get it: blaming is easy. Blaming can be fun. Blaming can be cathartic in times of frustration and stress. But blaming’s also unfair, especially when it boils down to a simple case of “I don’t like _ because of _”. Because VAs deserve better than that.


However, if that’s not reassuring, think about it this way: would you like it if you were stuck in Chris Ayres’s unfortunate position?

Maybe the REAL Kino's Journey is the friends we made along the way! This seems like a cheap joke to start off a review... and it is. However, it's damn near the truth of how the new Kino's Journey operates. With the light novel series by Keiichi Sigsawa featuring over 20 volumes of mostly standalone short stories, it's hard to put a narrative throughway into the entire venture. The "Beautiful World" now being exceptionally larger than at the time of the 2003 adaptation, the makers of the new one asked the fans of Japan what they would like to see and then made an episode list from the results (Though they ignored some results and put episodes that weren't ranked, and those tend to be the worst ones here. We'll get to you, "Fields of Sheep...."). The series made from the results seems to be a fandom antithesis of Ryutaro Nakamura's original anime, increasingly focused on the supporting cast and inflating everyone's mythic stature more than 2003's ultimate quest at finding the beating heart underneath Kino's jacket and coat. These are the bar stories of Kino and her friends with added flourishes while leaving out some of the personal details.




The different approach may actually be more of a benefit to the series than most may gather. I warn you this review may contain too many observations that seem like backhanded compliments or too many comparisons to director Nakamura's anime. I can't help it. The 2003 show is one of my top five anime and will continue to be such for quite some time, I imagine. I recently wrote about how that version was pretty darn close to being a perfect adaptation for me. If you're looking for the legendary "objective critical review" that some anime fans at the ANN forums seem to think exist, you might want to stop reading this and start your own endless journey now. Anyway, if one is going to do a follow-up to something like that, perhaps it's best to try something entirely different.

-the Beautiful World- is a remake from the ground up. It's musically and visually divergent with the selection of stories and their order completely independent from the original, even if there is some overlap. I can't speak for anyone who comes in completely cold, but the first episode seems to do a mixed job at introducing the character, concept, and structure. Telling a story from the fifth volume, it mostly plays it straight with a few character details shoveled into conversation. There's enough to give the newer viewers a decent idea of how this works, but it certainly seems like it's leaning towards a members-only approach.



If you're unfamiliar with any of the works involving Kino's Journey, it follows the titular Kino, an androgynous traveler who goes from country to country on their talking motorrad (motorcycle) Hermes to learn the culture and history of each place. She only stays in a nation for three days and then moves on in a seemingly endless journey (The three-day rule eventually gets relaxed later in the series, but this version never really explains why). What this normally does is make the country homogenized into one idea or concept that gets explored, usually with a darker edge (But not always). The first episode here inspects the idea of a land where killing is legal, but the nation is nothing how one would expect it to be. Many of these act like fables, but there isn't necessarily a single lesson to be gleamed except merely to think about the parts of life that we take as givens. This is far from a "both sides" deal as there are points where it takes clear stands, such as slavery being an inexcusably terrible thing.

While the general framework still applies, for what the new version is really after, one has to go to the retelling of "Coliseum" in the second episode. This was done as a two-parter in the 2003 rendition, adding a whole bunch of material the light novels didn't have to completely cover the country of a hedonistic king who forces foreigners and the lower class to battle each other to become first-class citizens. We get to know how the country came to be, the supporting cast of gladiators, and the battles have tension to them because we know these people and the extra time gives more space for the fights to develop suspense. "Coliseum" in -the Beautiful World- rushes through all of this and honestly, the impact is pretty flat. What is important is not what is missing, but what they choose to use their time on.

The entire country is almost a tertiary matter to introducing Shizu as a lead character. He is essentially a mirror to Kino, a man who is looking for a land to call his own with his talking dog Riku, but is constantly turned away by iron-clad immigration policies. The 2003 series gave him a more fleshed-out character and his similarities to Kino were taken more as subtle jokes (Kino waves away Hermes' assertion that he witnessed Shizu's dog talk.as "nonsense" spouted by her talking motorcycle). He's used here more as a "substitute teacher" for when Kino's not the lead. He gets his own repartee with his dog and eventually a child known as Tii, yet the broad strokes of Kino's tories tend to rule the roost. These are characters presented as legends, even as most people involved are still alive to keep them from being mythology. Rather than the modern television dramas that really get into the psyches of their protagonists, 2017's Kino's Journey treats them more like epic heroes with a bit more nuance.



There are a few times in the books where Kino has to resort to completely toppling a government or acting as a national hero. While Kino tries to be a passive observer for the most part, they don't always have the luxury of going about their business. In this series, it seems like it's something that happens every other week and Kino eventually takes a certain relish in it. One of the stories adapted is "Bothersome Country," a giant moving machine of a sovereign land that eventually finds a walled, isolationist nation in its path. Kino eventually volunteers into becoming a sniper to protect the country's mural (As non-lethal as a sniper can be), and by the end will have another murals made in their image created by grateful children. The 2003 adaptation would never approach this in such a matter as I think the director Ryuturo Nakamura (May he rest in peace) would be more fascinated by the moral dilemma of what country WOULD have the right of way in these circumstances, and would not have the hero worship of Kino shown in such a way.

Again, this isn't necessarily bad, but the series sometimes goes too far in this direction and takes away not only some of the heart of the matter, but loses its mind as well. The 2003 and 2017 version each have missing pieces of information on Master, the person who trains Kino to be the thoughtful badass we see for the majority of the material. Kino says in the initial anime that they can never tell anyone they know Master, and the new version explains why in an episode called "Historical Country" where she instigates change in a foreign land by holing herself up in a tower for days and shooting the corrupt authority figures and even some of the non-corrupt ones. Nobody is killed, but as Kino explains, sometimes gunshots to the legs are a fate worse than death. This change is explained as a catalyst to a wonderful era by a man who was there and shot by Master. It comes off as weirdly optimistic. Even Sigsawa as a gun advocate knows there are emotional reactions to gun violence that don't play by the rules of reasonable society in a few of his other stories.

The new project is overseen by director Tomohisa Taguchi, a man mostly known for doing a ton of work on anime projects for the Persona franchise. Most relevant here is his job as director for Persona 4: The Golden Animation. This was made from spare parts of the mainline anime adaptation with the extra story that was added into the game's second release. Once again, we have an incomplete narrative stitched together with occasional inspired ideas on different ends of the cloth that don't flow into each other. While not nearly as scattershot and wretched as Golden since the nature of Kino's Journey is episodic, the faults are still there.


The final few episodes include arguably the most important and iconic stories of the Kino lore, "Country of Adults" and "Kind Country." One is Kino's origin story (At least, the initial one) and the other is the moment when Kino reaches the point of no return on their direction in life, and to understand the impact of the latter, the context of the former is vital. For one thing, Kino's guide in "Kind Country" is an inn-keeper's daughter called Sakura who is named after a flower and gets teased for it. In "Country of Adults," we learn Kino's past as an inn-keeper's daughter named after a flower that can be slightly changed into a terrible insult that the other children throw at her. Knowing Kino is essentially watching their childhood played out if it didn't get twisted the way it did is essential for everything that follows. The new series plays them out of order and all but severs the personal connection for Kino. Why?

To be clear, both episodes are well handled in the remake and manage to put their own visual spins onto classic short stories. The autumnal surroundings of "The Kind Country" are incredible and fit the narrative, even if it is a bit on-the-nose. There's a play in the middle explaining the country's history that is quite a bit better than most expositional plays. "The Country of Adults" doesn't lay on The Twilight Zone twist as thick as the 2003 edition, but gives an effective sequence in Kino's POV showing how she's processing an unbelievable series of events unfolding in front of her. There are simply emotional slam dunks the makers choose to ignore in favor of making each episode single-serving. It doesn't even make sense from THAT standpoint, as they go out of their way to establish who Shizu and Tii are before featuring them.

I fear this may be the makers being too star struck to approach Kino with any proper dissection. The final episode in this season is "Fields of Sheep," where Kino, a survivalist who only kills when they have to but does ultimately respects life and regrets doing so. Well, they do until they're confronted with sheep hellbent on killing her one way or the other. The series' approach is portraying them in a Michael Bay fashion as they incinerate, run over, and shoots dozens of the sheep to escape. I'm just going to say this is quite possibly the worst story in the entire history of Kino's Journey handled in about the most brain-dead way possible, especially given what is learned later that assumes terrible things about the descendants of animals bred for fighting.



Surprisingly, the best episode is simply a hodgepodge labeled "Various Countries." Despite an intro where a bandit scopes out Kino and Shizu and notes how amazing they are and aren't optimal robbery victims, the other episodes capture the strengths of Sigsawa's stories in short, effective bursts. It goes from looking at a meritocracy through the eyes of someone playing the system their entire life to get away with a horrific act to a credits sequence where Kino and Hermes literally drive through a message from the light novel author. The latter is one of the times the franchise has fun with Kino being confronted with evidence that they're a character in a storybook (Perhaps a reference to the other episode 9 in the 2003 version, where it literally starts by Kino and Hermes reading a story about something that will happen to them later). If you need a little piece of what this franchise is about, I'd lean more towards checking out this episode by itself and going from there.

Visually, the show is impressive. The backgrounds are breathtaking and both the opening and the ending animations are among the best I've seen this year. The CG used is occasionally distracting, especially the animation of the ground moving forward that looks like they squished a looping background from a 60's cartoon and made it the floor. However, it is really handy for animating Hermes as a motorcycle accurately. The show itself has a few artistic flourishes, but mostly plays it straightforward with solid detail work, focusing on making the technological and social disparity between the countries as realistic as possible. Even when countries were light years ahead in technology, Nakamura's version made them feel like they were more-or-less from the same early 20th century time frame. Here, a moving country seemingly built from the futuristic world of Heavy Object clashes with a country that has Soviet World War II technology and their differences are night and day.

Now I am going to be that guy who prefers the 2003 version again nagging on the new one for stuff that is preferential, but there are glaring issues with this approach. Placing it in the past and giving it a more fable-like feel allowed the countries to not be taken as literal countries without fussing about whether they were viable or not. Making it realistic opens up the idea of them being taken as they are and questioning their plausibility. In my curiosity, I've looked at the views of people new to the series, and yeah, a decent amount of them discuss the logic loopholes and question how impossible these ideas would be to implement. Is it how I think these stories should be interpreted? Well, no, but presentation is an important driver to telling an audience how to read a work, and I can certainly see how the new anime would lead viewers down this path.



The music is vaguely curious, with a mishmash of genres from light jazz to techno loops with nothing particularly memorable. I must admit it took a bit to adjust to Kino's Journey being given a standard anime opening song, but I adapted. Everything is fine, but it does feel like the music is more to fill the time than to enhance the mood. It leaves so little of an impression that I don't know anything else to talk about here. AGAIN, not necessarily a bad thing. It's just not intrusive or focused on one genre, which is in itself a valid approach.

I have no qualms with the Japanese voice talents. Everyone plays the characters well, and the familiar characters who existed in the old version are portrayed here by people who embody their roles without being held back by previous voice talent. There's nothing that stands out, but nothing needs to stand out for it to work.

In fact, most of the series is pretty okay. Until "Fields of Sheep" came along and thought wholesale slaughtering of animals was the right thing to do to show how awesome Kino is, I was going to give it an ultimately positive write-up. Unfortunately, the uneven nature of this rendition is punctuated and underlined by the direct choice of the anime producers (From what I understand, it didn't make the audience poll of stories to include and was chosen by the makers themselves). If you want an up-front sampling of what the light novel is about good and bad, this is all right, I suppose. That is drastically different than my reaction to the 2003 version which is, "You haven't heard of this? Well, SIT DOWN AND LET ME GET YOU SOME SNACKS! WE'RE GOING TO WATCH THE FIRST DISC RIGHT NOW!" Yes, the Ryutaro Nakamura version adds things and is often not a "faithful" adaptation, but it was made by people who took the work, really thought about how to portray its essence and make it resonate for a viewing audience, and then made an animation showcasing what the stories made them feel. Adaptation gets a bad wrap most of the time, folks.

Despite my mixed opinions, I do hope the series continues if nothing else to give supporting character Photo a place to shine. She is given prominent placement in the opening, but only has one episode where she is mostly abused as a slave in her origin. The episode is good, but it rushed her happy ending and then does nothing with her. I had hoped there would be one episode that gives here a chance to be the woman she turns herself into and not the person she was forced to be. This is a microcosm of the forethought Kino's Journey -the Beautiful World- lacks in just being a list of single stories linked by its characters who are portrayed as rumors and legends.

Mary and the Witch’s Flower is a film I keep forgetting about. It’s not that it doesn’t look appealing, because it does. It’s not that it doesn’t look like it’ll be good, because it does. It’s not even that it’s not on my must-see list of 2018, because it is. It’s that its promotional material rode the waves like a surfer: keep waiting for a big announcement, surf big and proceed to wait for another. That kind of investment isn’t enough to excite me for more than a few hours at once.


So when I looked through Rotten Tomatoes’s website for upcoming releases, a practice that’s become ingrained in my mind, and saw the film was slated for a North American release at the end of January, I was surprised. Needless to say, I was also excited. But that excitement turned to concern when I realized I still had lingering questions that’d yet to be resolved. It’s only fitting that I, therefore, address them before the movie, yet again, slips my mind.


Firstly, I hope Mary and the Witch’s Flower is good. And by “good”, I mean “really good”. I know it’ll be good by default, it’s the director of The Secret World of Arrietty and When Marnie Was There, but I don’t know if the film will instantly click. Maro’s work relies heavily on atmosphere and character interactions over narrative refinement, and that leads to an end-result that feels slow and unimpressive initially. If you want proof, here’s my review of When Marnie Was There. Have a look and tell me it doesn’t scream initial disappointment.

So I hope that this film wows me on first go around. In the same breath, I hope the film also has legs and resonates on re-watch. This is something that’s strengthened my appreciation for Hiromasa Yonebayashi’s work over time, as he makes films that are in it for the long-run. Call it “The Blade Runner Effect”, if you will. If Mary and the Witch’s Flower is to succeed long-term, it needs to do that.


I hope the narrative is strong. As much as I liked The Secret World of Arrietty and When Marnie Was There, their stories were their weakest element. Not that they were bad, but it felt like another pass at the script would’ve helped. Then again, part of that could’ve been Keiko Niwa, as, while a good moment writer, she lacks a cohesive flow. I’m not sure who’s writing this movie, but I hope it doesn’t have that problem.

I hope the visual flair of the movie is consistently good. I wouldn’t say this with Studio Ghibli, since even their early-features looked amazing, but Studio Ponoc’s still relatively new with much to prove. It doesn’t help that Mary the Witch’s Flower looks to be borrowing from the director’s former studio, almost to a lazy degree. It worries me, and I pray my concerns prove wrong.

I hope the movie offers something new to the magical fantasy table. Trailers have made it seem like a Harry Potter knock-off, right down to the wizarding school element, and that reeks of unoriginality. It’s not unexpected, Harry Potter’s a big influence on modern magical fantasy, but it’s something to watch out for. There’s a line between paying homage and ripping something off, and this is worryingly close to the latter. It probably won’t matter in the end, but I’m concerned.


I hope the music, both score and soundtrack-wise, is good. This is something Mary and the Witch’s Flower’s direct predecessors didn’t have to worry about, but it’s important that this movie excel there too. And not simply in an “I’m imitating Studio Ghibli’s style” kind of way, it needs its own voice. The trailers suggest a running Leif Motif already, which is a step in the right direction, but that’s only a start.

I hope this movie maintains its own identity separate from its origins. I don’t care if Maro worked on two Studio Ghibli movies before this one. I don’t care if most of the staff were originally Studio Ghibli employees. I don’t even care if this film looks like it could’ve been made by Studio Ghibli. All I care about is this movie feeling unique.

I hope the public doesn’t forever think of this film as “Studio Ghibli-lite”. I’m tired of the comparisons. I’m tired of the shared legacy. I’m even tired of making comparisons myself. Because Studio Ponoc isn’t, and shouldn’t be, Studio Ghibli’s younger brother only, and neither should this movie feel that way.


I hope this movie finds its target audience. It’s a crime that so many anime films, especially the great ones, never sell in theatres because of the stigma against anime in the West. Because they don’t deserve to be “those Chinese fucking things”, as one Academy member so aptly put a few years ago. (I’m still appalled by the racism in that remark!) Even if Mary and the Witch’s Flower never sells on-par with American animation, I still would like it to gain the traction that anime has worked so hard to achieve for decades.

Above all else, I hope to see this movie in theatres. You laugh, but The Boy and the Beast never had a proper theatre run in Canada. It fell through a licensing dispute, got picked up by another distributor and was released on home video instead. That really bummed me out, and I’d like that to not happen with Mary and the Witch’s Flower. I’m not gunning for a Best Animated Feature nod at The Oscars-something that, if I’m being honest, will probably never happen-I simply want to appreciate it on the big-screen where it belongs.

Until then, I hope my hopes come true for…what was the movie again? (I kid! But seriously…)

It's once again time for me to file a review on a Xenoblade game way later than everyone else because I want to actually experience the game as it should be and then discuss it rather than trying to shove 150 hours of gameplay into a couple weeks or finishing the review halfway and missing vital elements (The ending to the first Xenoblade Chronicles puts in one of the laziest twists in writing and makes it so bizarrely out of place that it's actually kind of awesome. That it isn't infamous is likely an indication most people never finished it). The Discourse has stated that the character designs are seriously problematic even though the one with the horrendous character design people complained about is not a lead and is one of the more difficult characters to find (At least for me. Then again, after about 150 hours of play, I still can't get special guest star KOS-MOS from Xenosaga to trigger even though I've been following the unlocking procedure to the T, so who knows....). How is it all in a full playthrough? Let's find out!




Did you miss the full anime style of the original Xenoblade Chronicles? Did you long for having a tight-nit party instead of a wide swath of team players whose character depths only went as far as the work you were willing to put into them? How about a bit of both? Were you tired of a rapper singing about black tar getting you wherever you went and longed for the rousing themes and acoustics of Yasunori Mitsuda and ACE? Good news! Despite X ending on a cliffhanger, we'll have to put a pause on what not KOS-MOS found in the basement for now with a non-sequel sequel to the other side of the franchise instead. Walking on continents made out of massive beings, characters with United Kingdom accents shouting the same special attacks over and over again, and actually dying when you fall 1,000 feet have all returned!

For the record, I love and kid both predecessors at the same time. Xenoblade Chronicles and Xenoblade Chronicles X are two of my favorite games for different reasons. The original revealed the team at Monolith Soft had cracked the code on adding the addicting features of Western RPGs to the heart and flavor of JRPGs. I've already written plenty on Chronicles X, but it was a new experience that borrowed the series' framework to create an entirely alien planet that was a wonder to explore with an extensive amount of world building put into it, even if the main plot was a bit lacking at times. And yes, I adore the cheesy-as-hell music. We can't go back where we came from. WE CAN'T GO BACK WHERE WE CAME FROM!

Anyway, the initial barrage of Xenoblade Chronicles 2 media was a curious combination of elements. There was the introduction of younger protagonist Rex that seemed to indicate perhaps a simplification of the franchise, but the Nintendo Treehouse sessions showcasing the remixed battle system had other ideas. I can admit my eyes sort of glazed over the more they explained, but at least I didn't have to keep in mind what a weapon with the beam property and other sci-fi "elements" were strong or weak against like in X. The plot appeared to be a throwback to Tetsuya Takahashi's old work tossed in with the new ("The Architect," huh? I think I know where you're going with this...). I'm mostly positive towards the game, though it does have the most drawbacks of the Xenoblade empire.


The land created by The Architect is slowly being swallowed up by an ocean of clouds so thick, one can actually swim through them. To show mercy on the people, The Architect granted Titans the size of continents for the people to live on with some smaller ones to help out with daily life. We begin the story as the Titans are starting to die out, and when they die, humanity does too. Our hero Rex is a salvager who uses one of the smaller Titans as his boat as he searches for lost artifacts under the clouds to make a living. He gets a too-good-to-resist offer on a salvage job in an uncharted part of the ocean with a batch of tight-lipped mercenaries called the Torna, which is always a recipe for trouble. While searching the vessel, Rex becomes connected to Pyra, a powerful being known as The Aegis, which needs its own paragraph.

In this fantasy, people called Drivers team up with powerful beings known as Blades who use ether, the energy of the world around them. The Aegis is a special kind of Blade who is powerful enough to level entire Titans, and Pyra suddenly becomes irreversibly linked to Rex. Rather than use the power to destroy, he would rather use her knowledge to find the entrance to Elysium, a supposed paradise with endless land for the people to live. However, Pyra's awakening is suddenly known to the world's rulers, and everyone is quickly after her to either destroy the abomination or harness her powers.

Eventually, you get the rag-tag party of underdogs who stand against the world to save it, including former mercenary Nia, Nopon Tora (Nopon are tiny sentient creatures in Xenoblade 'verse that can't seem to English righty-right), and elder Driver Vandham. While the previous games weren't without certain anime conventions, this entry makes a full leap into the Tales series with how it mixes wacky anime antics with weighty dramatics. There's nothing here as tiresome as the irkome running joke of Lin threatening to cook Tatsu at the start of every story mission in X, but there is a spoilerrific character who has a devastating past and is revealed to be a sleepwalker who usually finds their way into the wrong bed. Not making a value judgment as it manages to balance the dramatic and the comedic well enough, but those who hate the sweat-beaded broad slapstick will find a few moments they will have to tolerate such as certain Nopons' obsession with fetish robots that becomes so much, I almost think a good part of the plot is a parody of Xenosaga. And those who want every game to be Xenogears, THAT GAME WAS GOOFY AS HELL, TOO! You're remembering all the mood and just forgetting the team of girl henchmen ripped right out of Sailor Moon, the crab helicopter, and the government building that is revealed to be able to transform into a giant Gear because of course it does. Chuchu is not an isolated incident.



No worries about the story being a minor piece of fluff. It's a bit of a slow build-up, but it eventually chips into the darker realms of Tetsuya Takahashi work. Blades becoming something else entirely by consuming human flesh, the nature of dying vs. the nature of being forgotten, and of course, the true form of The Architect being more than it appears on the surface.  The delivery of the material is simply anime melodrama to the max with nary a dramatic moment without superhuman battles, gigantic creatures and machines, and screaming determination to the sky.

It works just fine if you're used to the style, though what keeps it from taking off into Xenosaga Episode 3 levels of awesome is the disjointed storytelling. It has chapters which mostly focus on a particular part of the story, but since most of the juicy twists and turns occur in the distant past, the game has a large reliance on flashbacks. The flashbacks structure serves to dole out the required info when necessary, but it muddles character motivation a bit. There are revelations that show up like who found Rex as a child, but it doesn't come with any substance about why this is important. It doesn't give insight as to how Rex found himself in his current situation and it doesn't pay off in any meaningful way other than showing some characters aren't as morally black and white as they appear, which we already knew. If he was found and saved by literally anybody else, the result would still be the same.

What makes the characters ultimately likable is the voice acting. The original Xenoblade Chronicles was famous for being initially skipped over in America and the English version released was dubbed with various British accents instead. While X takes place in New Los Angeles and was obviously aiming for a more American audience, Chronicles 2 brings back the original's approach with a majority of the dwellers sporting a Scottish accent. Unlike Reyn in the first one, the accents never feel overemphasized (And for Reyn, I just took him out of the party and 99% of my problems with him went away). The Blades also have more American accents since they've lived for centuries and have a separate origin from the people. The casting choices for the English dub are spot-on and generally terrific. Skye Bennett provides a delicate matter-of-factness to Pyra that makes a character you've seen many times before feel like something fresher. Tons of JRPGs have the character who've been sealed for hundreds of years or have been severely isolated come out and be mined for fish-out-of-water humor, but Pyra seems to take a more actively thoughtful role in processing a world that's passed her by for 500 years.




If you don't like the English version, the Japanese audio is available as a download for free and it has plenty of spots for recognizable talent in expected roles and surprises. Many of the Blades you can recruit have special guest illustrators and voice talent. While the character designs have drawn ire for weird body proportions and the idea that they're creating their own personal love dolls and I can't argue for many of them, there are some fun inclusions, like Haruhi Suzumiya's actress Aya Hirano as a weird Pokémon-style creature whose body is 70% mouth. Also, they generally have way more personality than the author of that article gives them credit for. To get the most out of their abilities, you have to go through personal quests that flesh them out as characters, something I did not see with a majority of the companions of Skyrim. They're still two-dimensional for the most part, but there was work done to make them more than their occasionally odd designs (There is a bibliophile with a book chained to her back who is missing half her torso and punches people with books that have laser daggers sticking out of them). Just be warned there aren't translations for the battle cries and random banter, so you might be flipping back and forth between English and Japanese to understand what they're saying.

Deep breath. Time to describe the act of playing Xenoblade Chronicles 2. There is a ton of stuff to get through. Even though they're all a part of the same series and have the same general structure, the three games of the franchise play exceptionally differently, making it hard to give direct comparisons. You have a party of people who go out in a world of monsters that roam the land, some territorial, some that attack when threatened, and some that are completely docile unless you blindside them. There is a main story to work through, and as you do, you open up new areas that allow for new sidequests which give you the opportunity to develop the area on top of the regular bonuses in order to get access to new items and quests. That's pretty basic action RPG inspired by MMORPGs at least, right?


I suppose the starting point would be the difference in how combat is handled. The new combat system's initial setup is to close the loopholes from the previous games one could find dinking around with monsters you probably shouldn't. If you were underleveled and in a place you shouldn't be, you could lure out a single creature and club it with your combined talents and then continue to do the same with the other monsters in the area like they were characters in a bad horror movie. Monsters now have the ability to summon their friends, so if you think you have an even-footing with one or two creatures, you may find yourself overwhelmed with even a couple harmless little bunnies. The importance of combat is also scaled back a bit. It's an RPG, so of course you have to fight at times, but clearing an entire field is many times unnecessary and even discouraged by having wandering enforcer creatures that are 50 levels higher or more to one-shot you if you dilly-dally in its domain for too long. You can run efficiently if you get ambushed and feel like you're not up for a fight, but drawing a weapon slows your character down immensely. Quick tip: If you hold down R and press down, you can sheave your weapon and take off. It's not as obvious an option as it used to be. Since your characters aren't the ones from X who can survive thousand-foot drops with no damage, you can't just dive off a cliff to escape unless you're over water. There is an extra frustration that comes with this where your character can't jump in battle mode and occasionally, the enemy will retreat to a level you can't access, meaning you can't attack without a long-distance weapon while they're on an incline you should very easily be able to step over. Thankfully, like the rest of the series, your penalty for losing is being sent back to the last warp point you walked by and you can even keep items picked up in the midst of battles.

The battle system isn't so much anything new as there are almost a dozen layers to it. The Marvel vs. Capcom of action RPGs, if you will. There is a ton going on that can get out of control if you don't maintain team chemistry and flow. You can have three Drivers in your party and they in turn can have three Blades apiece, each with drastically different weapons, roles (Attacker, Tank, and Healer), and elemental abilities to switch between if you so choose (Tora's artificial Blade Poppi is less versatile, but she can be programmed outside of battle). There are the automatic hits that do base damage building up to special moves which can topple the enemy, heal yourself, or something in-between. Using those builds up to an ultra attack, which can be unleashed right away for a quick hit, built up with teammates to perform combos, or collected to max level with the Driver/Blade chemistry to unlock quick-time event prompts that can be devastating if pulled off correctly. To keep from mashing on those ultra attacks with the opponent's element weakness, the enemy will have a time meter that weakens the elemental just used and can even seal the damage or even switch weaknesses. We're not even getting into the meter at the top that can be used to revive Drivers if they run out of hit points or can be built to unleash the ultimate combo attack. Understandably, this a ton to process, but they do have a somewhat protracted tutorial period to address each individual section and the layout for everything is easy to read.



There is plenty of flexibility to be had with the system, but perhaps too much. Each character has their own main Blade, but they can bond with others that can be found by beating enemies or uncovering treasure. The problem is these core crystal Blades are random depending on the luck of the character attempting to use them, four different aspect to their character, and the quality of the crystal found. You can waste some rare crystals getting trash generic Blades in the process and it automatically saves with only one slot per user, so don't even think about re-loading a save, mister! Thankfully, there are side quests where you can find other specialty Blades if you happen to stumble upon them.

Then there're expendable items that enhance various aspects of your battle stats. Food, games, books, musical instruments, paintings... all can be used to give a timed spike in critical attacks, team chemistry, healing, or many many other boosts. One may question how just having a painting on your person will help you and why it's only helpful for a limited time, but using these items effectively are key to gaining an edge in combat, especially boss battles. You also need to notice what items your Drivers and Blades like so they can increase the boost and even activate certain special powers on their skill trees, which is its own confusing mess of random triggers you have to pay conscious attention to. You even have to VISUALLY CHECK THE SKILL TREES after you've done enough to activate an ability or it won't register that you've unlocked it most of the time even when there's an indicator in the corner that tells you when a Blade has reached a milestone. Not only do you have to be mindful of all of this for not only your party, but your Blades you use on mercenary quests unlocked later in the game, which can get into the dozens. And then there's weapon attack upgrading, weapon chip upgrading, programming Poppi with Ether crystals and parts won by playing an old-school arcade game... and I'm winded.


Okay... what you need to know is how does it play? Slowly, at first. It's necessary to get most of the battle system down and there are tutorials for each individual aspect. If it seems a little too much hand holding, it's really a cascade of information dammed down to prevent players from being flooded. Less forgivable is the battles stay slow for a good amount of the game. Oh, sure, if you're 20 levels above a creature, it's over in a flash, but even at 10 levels above, it can be a protracted hassle if they constantly call for help, have a ton of hit points, or the scrum draws the attention of the enforcer creature that promptly ends the fight in one or two shots. An essential tip is learning how to chain elemental attacks to use devastating super moves. These get sealed up by the opponent, but after using a couple different elemental super moves, unleash the ultra combo attacks dictated the meter at the top, and you will get EXTRA turns depending on how many seals the monster has up. It's a much easier way of stir frying the big guys than hammering away endlessly. Knowing what foods and items make your special move meters fill up lightning fast and using them before bosses can easily make an impossible fight on the difficulty spikes this game has manageable.

What doesn't have so much of an easy fix is the design of game intentionally putting creatures that you're not supposed to mess with that are aggressive, in your way, and on PLOT ESSENTIAL COURSES. One especially egregious part has two giant spiders with higher levels blocking an exit to a factory you need to use to get to another factory to advance the story. If you think you can grind out a victory against them, there's a cobra/rattlesnake hybrid with a ridiculously high level that will kill you and put you back at the last landmark. Your literal only option when you arrive at some new continents is to run away from everything until you can get to the next city and upgrade your weapon chip and accessories, or else you'll get jumped and beaten to a pulp. It really doesn't feel like the game should be played like this, but here we are.

Especially hurtful is the first open area is frustrating for players wanting to explore and get the hang of the game, or even those who want to get on with the story. It's all based around a massive tree with many passages around and through it leading to secret and not-so-secret crevices. It's pretty neat in concept, but issues arise when seeing that this is designed like an 80's NES RPG where there are explicit places you can and can't go and will be punished severely for crossing the wrong bridge. But you see, almost every path is the wrong bridge. There's an alternate exit in the main town that leads to creatures 30 levels higher. If you go too far to the left in what seems like an open area, you're suddenly surrounded by instant death. Same if you go too far to the right. The main tree is such a maze of inconsistent paths that could lead anywhere and the quest compass you're given is essentially useless for this section (I miss the Wii U touch pad. Fine gamers, shun a feature that literally shaves hours of time off your game by keeping easy-to-read maps and inventory in the palm of your hand at all times). I literally found all of the "secret" locations before stumbling onto the road to a story-essential path. They've since done an update that fixes the map feature a little by making it able to completely overlay onto the gameplay. Little being the key word here.



Do not panic. Eventually, the game finds its groove in wondrous civilizations built on the backs of monsters. Glorious ruins covered in orange leaves, a massive religious structure with a mural on the major turning point of the world (Some who were at the event mock it for "missing a few things"), and so much more await you. The learning curve is simply a smidge punishing. The first three chapters want you to stay on track with the story and not venture out too much, while at the same time, often not giving a straight path to where you need to go. Once you're free, you're free. You're at a high enough level to go exploring, you have a team of mercenaries that go out and gets you money and experience while unlocking special talents of the involved Blades, and sidequests start becoming more apparent.

The odd continents you visit are usually a highlight of a Xenoblade game, and this entry no different. The graphical focus is on design and using the occasional high-res textures to make an image pop. There are occasional low-res textures and some trees look like they come from the Dreamcast era, but the unique beauty of it all pulls everything together. It's almost a spoiler to tell you what you will see in the course of the game. This is one of the few adventure series that feels like you're visiting new, wondrous place and makes secret passages that exist solely to give you the best view. Dynamic weather that differs betweens continents provides even more sights with everything from fog to crystal storms. There's a bit of recycled monster art, but there are new, massive creatures that will haunt your nightmares, like when you accidentally salvage a giant squid.



The absolute highlight of the game is the music. I say with no hyperbole that this is the best soundtrack to be associated with Yasunori Mitsuda since Chrono Cross. That's not to say it's all Mitsuda's baby as he does work on a few choice tracks and leaves much of the heavy lifting to ACE, the band from the original Xenoblade Chronicles with their member Kenji Hiramatsu doing some composing along with Manami Kiyota (Who did the lion's share of work on the first one, too). All of it is astounding. Combine the wild burst of energy from the field music in Xenoblade Chronicles, the occasional verve of X, the choirs of Xenosaga Episode 1, and put it together with surprising musical choices like the trumpet being a heavily featured instrument on top of loads of polish. For the cherry on top, the cutscene music is the best it has ever sounded for this franchise. I mean no disrespect to the people who adore the soundtrack to Nier Automata–you're awesome and it's a great soundtrack–but this is by and large my favorite game music of 2017.

Finally, there are a few quirks that don't really fit anywhere else in the review. For one, the interface is fast and works with you to go anywhere you'd like more quickly than the other games in the series. However, it might be a little too user friendly for the people who meta-game. There are moments where you're not supposed to be able to go somewhere because the army there is chasing after you, or you shouldn't be able to go anywhere because you don't have transportation. Nope. You can go anywhere you've been to, no problem. This is especially amusing in the endgame, where instructions urge you to hurry and yet, there are no punishments for spending ten hours attending to less pressing issues. Making a welcome return in the Xeno series is the option to watch the cutscenes whenever you'd like after you've seen them from the main menu. There's a ton of them and if you have a more relaxed attitude towards the main story like I do in these things, it's beneficial to see it told straight up.

Xenoblade Chronicles 2 is probably the weakest in the franchise, but after two incredible games, that's a misleading description. The stumbles in design and beginner's frustration eventually recover to a satisfying adventure that delivers the series' sweet sports of action, beauty, and frolicking through the bizarre insides of giant creatures. Despite some bullshit they pull with Pyra twice to handwave her away from horrific circumstances (You'll know them when you see them), the story is worth the price of admission. It may scare off the people who immediately dock points for any overtly anime content in a JRPG, but it's a hefty title with plenty of fun content lasting hundreds of hours that's hard to deny.

The Academy is a joke, isn't it?



I ask that regretfully. On one hand, they've been finding new ways to piss us off every January for 90 years. Whether it's nominating obviously bad films in their Best Picture category, or snubbing well-earned performances in favour of less-deserving ones, it seems like the entire ceremony's an excuse to remind people how out-of-touch they are with the craft. On the other hand, that we fall for this obvious fallacy each time, that we spend, or waste, hours of our precious time trying to pick apart why X or Y is wrong, well…what does that say about us?

I like reminding people that The Oscars aren't worth our vitriol. That, like a reverse-Schadenfreude, we're buying into the perpetual cycle of our own misery by criticizing them. The Academy refuses to change, so our only resolve is seeing little victories like Harvey Weinstein being ousted as a result of his predatory behaviour. But that's not stopping us from getting mad, especially not at the ceremony's youngest category, Best Animated Feature, for continually snubbing anime films since Spirited Away in 2003.

Let's be perfectly clear: The Academy doesn't care if you disapprove of their lack of anime wins. They don't care because they have no reason to care. The awards are never geared at movie buffs, contrary to what you may think, and they know this. They know this as well as I know that the debate of having pineapple on pizza, or if the chicken came before the egg, is futile. The Oscars is yet another TV program that takes up a single, 3-hour block on ABC every year. And like every TV program, they only care about ratings.


I get it: it's frustrating. It's frustrating knowing your favourite anime movie didn't make it. Welcome to my world. I've unsuccessfully waited twice for an animated film from the LEGO franchise to be nominated for Best Animated Feature. The first was in 2015, when The LEGO Movie was snubbed. The second was this year, when The LEGO Batman Movie was also snubbed. At least the former had a worthwhile anime film, The Tale of the Princess Kaguya, as a replacement, even if it didn't win. We don't have that pleasure this time, unfortunately, with A Silent Voice or In This Corner of the World not even being considered.

I'm fine with this. I'm fine with it because it's not about what I want, and it never has been. For one, I'm not of The Academy's voting base, so I have no say anyway. And two, it's a democratic system. Every member gets a vote. Given how much we're supposed to respect fair elections, why's this different? Obvious racism aside, it shouldn't be.

Perhaps I'm too idealistic. Perhaps I'm expecting too much of the internet, a body composed of angry hive-minds that overreact about details not worth the overreacting to. Perhaps my insisting that there's so little at stake here that, at best, a snub means one more obscure __ worth checking out is obnoxious. Perhaps I'm forgetting that other people are forgetting about biases, and that said biases are strong enough to cloud impartial voting in a subjective award ceremony. Perhaps.


But this doesn't mean I'm not disappointed. I'm disappointed that, despite its slow acceptance in recent years, anime's still considered too niche for mainstream audiences. I'm disappointed that people still view animation as "childish", a half-life sentiment from a simpler time that never truly was. I'm disappointed that, even with getting its critical dues, The Academy still sees anime as "those Chinese fucking things". And I'm disappointed that the members refuse to be swayed.

But I've come to peace with it. I've come to peace with it because it's unhealthy otherwise. I've come to peace with it because it leaves me happier in the long-run. I've come to peace with it because it means I can get through the actual ceremony without the stresses of the internet weighing me down. And I've come to peace with it because it allows me to enjoy the jokes, or failed jokes, of hosts like Billy Crystal and Jimmy Kimmel, to name a few, that much more.

It's not like I'm begrudging those who don't agree with me. I've long come to terms with the internet not being able to let go of their grievances with The Oscars, and how that comes into play each year. And I've long come to terms with the Otaku community bearing grudges over their prized medium not getting the love and respect it deserves. I simply wish that it weren't so openly hostile and vitriolic every year, as unrealistic as that might be.


Ultimately, I'm at a lose-lose crossroads. As much as I know that A Silent Voice and In This Corner of the World being beaten out by The Boss Baby's frustrating on many levels, I still recognize that they probably never had a shot anyway. This is Coco's award to win, and I'm glad it got its well-earned nomination. If all-else, this year also saw the nominations of The Breadwinner and Loving Vincent for Best Animated Feature, two films I'd most-likely never have heard of otherwise. If that's not some form of consolation, then I honestly don't know what is.

The Academy is a joke, isn't it? Yes, but the joke is on us.

*Inhales deeply* Let's do this!



I wasn't originally gonna write another Oscars piece. I already wrote one, and-quite frankly-I thought I summed up everything I had to say there. It's not even like Geoff doesn't have valuable insights, as he does and this is no exception. But in directly criticizing and venting about The Oscars, he opens the door for some issues that deserve rebutting. And while I certainly don't take pride in defending The Oscars each cycle, there are always key points and facts that get lost in the shuffle during the yearly "The Oscars are awful" hot takes.

Firstly, I have nothing against Geoff. He's unafraid to go against the grain and challenge conventional wisdom, as demonstrated by videos like this one. But every now and then I feel he misses the mark. And his trashing of The Academy's tastes is one of those moments where he does so entirely.

I'm aware that The Academy has made dubious Best Picture calls, but not all were as terrible as he claims. I actually didn't mind The King's Speech, even if its directing left much to be desired, and a good chunk of that fell on Colin Firth's well-deserved accolades as the film's protagonist (his speech at the end was also pretty good.) It wasn't my favourite movie of 2010, that honour belongs to Toy Story 3, and I didn't think it was as good as The Social Network, but to assume that it wasn't deserving of praise is dishonest. Especially since I'm one of the few people who considers Inception to be overrated.


Some of Geoff's other jabs were also uncalled for. He mentions that Star Wars Ep. V: The Empire Strikes Back and Raging Bull were both better than Ordinary People, which won Best Picture in 1980. I'm sure that's true, but Star Wars Ep. V: The Empire Strikes Back was actually not well-loved in 1980. And while Raging Bull might be the better film, Ordinary People, like Inside Out, was a valuable stepping stone in normalizing the discourse on mental illness. That's the kind of "importance" Geoff was talking about, no?

However, it's his remarks on anime that really bugged me. I won't dispute most of them, especially not how Best Animated Feature has mostly been Pixar and Disney wins, but there's something disingenuous about implying that anime automatically deserves to win "because". Because it doesn't. Anime's another form of animation, and implying that it should win all the time is a form of patronization. If you'll forgive the analogy, it's like saying that a chef at a 5-star restaurant will always be preferable to a diner cook: that may be true theoretically, but even the best have off-days and, in the worst-case scenario, turn out like Mario Batali.

I say that last part knowing well the irony of Pixar and John Lasseter. But it's worth noting that, even outside of the predator issue, the best artists aren't invincible. Looking at Studio Ghibli, the only anime company to receive Oscar nominations repeatedly, their films are great, but they don't automatically deserve Oscars because of their brand. I've covered this in greater detail before, but of their nominations, I only think they've deserved the win twice. And one of those times, Spirited Away, they did win. Their other "deserving" win was The Tale of the Princess Kaguya, and that was only because The LEGO Moviewasn't considered at all.


I know anime fans are passionate, and I respect that. But much like Hollywood's diversity problem, more anime films deserve mainstream recognition, yet also need to favour quality over geography. I wouldn't, for example, put a Pokémon movie on the roster of Best Animated Feature in any year, as I don't consider the franchise worthy. I'm sure there are many high-quality anime films that are never considered, but there are also many more that don't deserve the accolades.

I also think that if anime is to be taken seriously for Best Animated Feature, then distribution companies need to up their game significantly. This includes proper theatre showings in the West that comply with Oscar standards. I know that The Wolf Children, brilliant as it is, didn't get a theatrical release over here, while The Boy and the Beast's release window was badly-botched. And I've yet to see Mary and the Witch's Flower have theatre screenings here. It's not as if a venue like TIFF wouldn't play these movies, especially given TIFF's reputation, so why aren't distributors putting their money where their mouths are?

As a final note, fans need to know when a ship has sailed. When Only Yesterday, a movie released in 1991, was dubbed and screened in North America in 2016, there were people who insisted it receive a Best Animated Feature nomination. Not only was it a re-release, but it'd long-surpassed The Academy's qualifying window. The same goes for Ocean Waves last year, a 1993 film that wasn't initially released theatrically anyway.


Do I wish The Oscars would take anime, and by extension animation, more seriously? Yes. Does it pain me that there's racism and ignorance in the voting process? Again, yes. But to imply that it's always so black-and-white is something I wish people wouldn't propagate. Because it's not so clear-cut, and as long as that's not understood, then the fight for anime's respect in The West can never be achieved. And that's the biggest crime of them all.

Oy vey zmir!


It's no secret that I'm a proud, yarmulke-wearing Jew. I've made it obvious on multiple occasions, like when I discussed Yuri Bear Storm a while back. I pray at least twice a day, keep Kosher, observe the Sabbath and Jewish holidays, and I've been to Israel three times. I have a loving family and community that are also devoutly-Jewish. And while I have no family who are Holocaust survivors, I'm well-connected via a local geriatric centre. Essentially, Judaism means a lot to me.


I normally wouldn't dive this personally into my life on Infinite Rainy Day, but I have to make an exception this time. See, there's this show about a computer addict called Recovery of an MMO Junkie that recently aired in Japan. Despite not seeing it, I've heard it's quite accurate in its portrayal of addiction (something I can also relate to.) I've heard lots of praise for it in the Otaku community, hence my curiosity has been peaked. Unfortunately, that all came crashing down when its director, Kazuyoshi Yaginuma, was outed as Antisemitic. I'm not sure what the statistics are when it comes to Japanese Antisemitism, but it's a unsettling given Japan's history with WWII and The Third Reich.

I'd like to point out that I have nothing against Japan because of this. Nor do I have a grudge against the creative team behind the anime in question. This is merely a critique of the show's director and his awful outlook on Jews, as well as some ancillary remarks on how anime portrays Nazis. Keep that in mind.


Anyway, like many Jewish Otaku, I too am upset by Yaginuma's Tweets. His most-prominent ones are about the validity of the gas chambers, though he's also thrown around the word "goyim" (the Hebrew word for non-Jews) like it's candy to alt-right Twitter handles. And while he's been using Google Translate for his English Tweets, the Antisemitic intent in his content suggests he's no friend of mine. Yet instead of being offended, I'm more confused than anything.

Allow me to explain.

There are definitely parts of this that do offend me. His liberal use of the word "goyim", which has become synonymous with self-deprecating Antisemitism, smacks of typical alt-right behaviour. And his slamming of Israel, a country that garners a lot of unfounded ire from both the left and the right, is equally troubling. With a few tweaks to his writing, he could easily pass off as an American Antisemite: add a frog and a glass of milk to his Twitter handle, and he's another Richard Spencer. Add a cross and a Tiki torch, and he becomes another David Duke. These are all worrying as a Jew.

I think his slamming of Israel is especially offensive. Like I said, the country, while not without its faults, gets unfairly criticized by Antisemites on both the left and the right. The left criticizes it for its settlements and "apartheid" practices, not realizing that the former are controversial in Israel and the latter ignores the nuances of the conflict. In contrast, the right views it as a country that controls the world and wants to overtake the white race, which is nonsense. This is garbage I'd expect from the West, which has had significant exposure to Jews over the last 3000 years, so seeing it from the East is worrisome. Especially since the Jewish presence in Japan is minimal, clustered in select cities and remaining mostly-invisible.


The reason why Yaginuma's Tweets don't offend me as much as many other Jewish Otaku is because I'm not sure Yaginuma comprehends how destructive his language is. Not that I'm excusing it, since Antisemitism isn't an exclusively-English phenomenon (the term originated in Germany), but I don't see it as anything more than an extension of the Japanese imperialist mentality. Keep in mind that Japan was on the side of the Nazis in WWII, and that sentiment doesn't disappear from the public conscious so quickly. If you want proof, Germany's AfD, a modern Nazi party, currently has seats in the Reichstag. And let's not forget Japan's prime minister, Shinzō Abe, a man itching for an excuse to satisfy his militaristic tendencies.

So yeah, this is pure ignorance. Which begs the question of whether or not that's actually worse than Antisemitism in a Western country. That's tough to satisfactorily answer, especially given Poland's recent anti-Holocaust bill, but Yaginuma isn't an anomaly in his country. Anime has routinely glamourized Nazism and shafted Jews over the years. Hellsing Ultimate has an OVA where a Nazi vampire major gives a rousing speech about how he loves war and bloodshed. Fullmetal Alchemist: The Conqueror of Shamballadraws a parallel between the soldiers of Amestris and the Nazi uprising in Germany of 1923, to the point where sympathetic characters in the show, like Maes Hughes, have unsympathetic counterparts there. And while I've yet to see it, the head writer of the aforementioned penned an OVA in the 90's linking the Jews to a global conspiracy.

In other words, Japan's understanding of Jews and Nazism is shallow at best. The country knows the atomic bomb well, something the West will never fully-appreciate, and has made it the subject of several acclaimed films, but its comprehension of The Holocaust is minimal and embarrassing. So embarrassing that it was the focus of the story of Hana's suitcase, which is itself worth reading about. For Yaginuma to espouse Antisemitic rhetoric is upsetting, but it's not as if he has much to go on. Especially when the country he comes from has war pride.


Still, I have to draw the line somewhere. Even if Yaginuma's knowledge of Judaism is minimal, it doesn't excuse his behaviour. Antisemitism's still Antisemitism, regardless of whether or not it's in English, German or Japanese. If I wouldn't tolerate the same rhetoric in my Lingua Franca, then for sure I wouldn't tolerate it in Japanese. Google Translate be damned!

Does this mean Recovery of an MMO Junkie is garbage because its director is garbage? No. As much as I can sympathize with those who'd refuse to watch it, especially in-light of Hollywood's predator situation, it's important to remember that talented people are often awful people. I know that's a generalization, but if Clint Eastwood can be a celebrated actor and director despite his open racism, then I can let Yaginuma's behaviour not ruin a beloved anime series. I only have so much I can let get to me before I disavow all art.

But if other people don't want to watch the show, well…that's their right. Remember, I'm one Jew of millions. We're not all-alike, and we frequently disagree. So if Yaginuma being Antisemitic is a tipping point for another Jew, that's fine. We need to be sensitive to other people.


Kazuyoshi Yaginuma's definitely still a jerk, however. That much can't be denied.

Of all the things resurrected for a physical release from the early 2000s, one of the last titles I expected was NieA_7. With the corpse of Pioneer/Geneon containing so many licenses that could be scooped up, maybe it shows up on Crunchyroll unannounced one day after its license is purchased for a song. But taking the materials from an early 2000 digital animation with mixed reviews, little financial success, and releasing it on Blu-ray in 2018? Are you mad, Discotek Media/Eastern Star? If  you're reading this, Discotek, I am very grateful for the services you provide in rescuing classics and choice obscure picks, but you guys do need money to run like everyone else and don't just have a lead-to-gold alchemy racket in your basement, right?

NieA_7 was the follow-up to the cult series for illustrator Yoshitoshi ABe (As always, the capital B is intentional) with producer Yasuyiki Ueda, and was sold as such. Most fans of the surreal, cyberpunk classic didn't follow them down this aliens-as-race-metaphor-meets-slice-of-life-meets-Looney-Toons path, and many MANY unsold copies were left on shelves to rot until they were hastily thrown together into box sets and eventually peddled by desperate dealers at anime cons for 15 bucks in an era where 3-4 episode DVDs sold at $39.99 MSRP were the norm. Even as ABe found more acclaim with Haibane-Renmei and Texhnolyze, NieA_7 didn't get much of a second glance. Let's put it this way, Lain, Texhnolyze, and Haibane-Renmei are #10, #2, and #1 on my list of favorite anime series, respectively. I haven't even thought about this show in ten years and there would still be heavy amounts of dust on my DVDs if I hadn't moved three times. But hey, let's take this opportunity to revisit NieA_7 on its own and shed the expectations its brethren bring.




Emblazoned with the Engrish tagline "domestic poor animation," this comedy follows the life of student Mayuko as she tries to survive pre-college cram school in the city while handling multiple jobs and paying her own rent living above a failing bathhouse in the slowly dying countryside area Enohana. Mayu's financial circumstances are left mostly in her hands after the death of her father, and she is not helped by literal alien squatter NieA discovered in Mayu's closet when she moved into her apartment who will not leave. You see, the aliens' mothership crashed into Japan years ago and aliens have since become a normal sight. They're mostly like humans except for large ears and antenna. The antenna designate their caste, with the larger antenna indicating a more important member of their society. Since NieA is ranked an "under 7" with no antenna, she is considered garbage by her society, living off whatever she can swipe from Mayu and get-rich-schemes, sometimes involving attempts to hawk junk as "alien technology" to Mayu's fanatic blogger pal Chiaki. Mayu's "charity" is continually strained by NieA's constant nagging and desire for large servings of exotic food.

The episodes are mostly self-contained stories working off the slowly building cast of characters slung into wacky circumstances. Usually it involves Kotomi, the head of the flagging bathhouse, trying to find a way to stay in business and the plan to do so going haywire. There are character threads that are built up, but as a person watching this multiple times talking to likely a person watching this for the first time, let me do you a solid: Do not get too attached to the idea of the larger elements paying off or resolving. This is a period of time in the lives of these folk, and while everyone has ultimate goals, there are larger mysteries, and characters have issues between each other that need to be addressed, almost all of it is not resolved in a matter typically expected of such a show. Even with the sci-fi elements and zany comedy, it's really on-the-nose slice of life.

Okay, brass taxes time. NieA_7 is an anime that is EASY to hate. I don't blame anyone for it, and if you can't make it through the first four episodes, I understand. It mixes slapstick Western comedy (and literal Hanna Barbera sound effects) with the obnoxious parts of anime humor where louder is better and the same joke playing on a character tic can't be used enough. The threads getting abruptly cut off can be frustrating because there are actual human elements I want to follow. Early in the show, Mayu has a dream about her father, but her image of her father is slowly becoming less concrete, worrying her she's going to completely forget him. There are powerful and touching elements crafted by a group of people more than capable of exploring them. Then most of the main characters are involved in a massive Wile E. Coyote explosion. Oh yes, I get the frustration. I could go on for hours about how Haibane-Renmei changed my entire outlook on life, and during my first run through of NieA_7, I only wondered, "Did they just rip off a joke from Alf?"

Deep breath. I promised the series I'd give it a fresh look. I get the zaniness has to be put up front to give an idea of what the physical reality of this series is. You can't just pull out the fact that people can survive being in an explosive UFO that decimates a roof five episodes in or so. The mix of old-school cartoon noises and royalty-free sound effects from 90's shareware computer games not only clues into the attitude, but to the poorness of the people that their sound effects are greatly worn and overused. That was a major light bulb for me this time 'round. In fact, the series is built on a style of humor called "hetare," or lame. Bad jokes, out-of-date references, puns that kill conversations, it's all intentional down to Mayu and Niea bickering, and it might not translate all the way through because puns usually don't and this wasn't made to snag the "cool" audiences of 2001.



What still bothers me early on is it doesn't know when to stop early on. The entire second episode involves trying to find an alien oil to attract new customers. The result find the bathhouse getting decimated and large crews are required just to clean up the damage. It sets up that the bathhouse has been in debt for a long time and needs something to turn it around soon. This is one of the major focuses of the series and it's hard to maintain this as actual stakes when the result of this episode is the near-complete destruction of the bathhouse and nothing about the situation changes even into the next episode. They must have one hell of an insurance policy.

I know I know, it's a cartoony cartoon. I shouldn't think too much about it, and that kind of overtly bombastic payoff tapers off after the first few episodes. However, there is a tonal disconnect between the separate elements that never quite gels. The opening is probably the easiest example. The song choice is gravelly singer SION similar to the ending theme to the much darker Lain (and one I skip because that art of Lain they choose for the credits is a little much). The animation is curiously cluttered with solemn imagery fighting with the obvious gags. While the show proper is better at keeping the animation's tone in sync, the story does seem like it's getting pulled in different directions, like there were two or three people who had separate visions of what it's supposed to be. Nowhere is this more apparent than its alien metaphor about race and class.



Oh boy, we're taking about race now. As most people are aware, Japan is not the most racially diverse country in the world, so when they tackle race outside of their own, it can be awkward and shallow (Though to be fair, the same thing happens with most white, male screenwriters who deal with race *COUGHCOUGHBRIGHTCOUGHCOUGH*). NieA_7's approach is to look at India's caste system, turn it into alien antenna, and say, "Well, that's silly." While that may be so, it's easy to sit back and take potshots at another country. It does get to make fun of how some Japanese are frozen in fear by merely seeing someone who looks drastically different, such as when Mayu freaks out almost every time she sees Chada, a dark-skinned alien who has styled himself out of a stereotype Indian convenience store owner (Even owning one called 11 a.m.-7 p.m. Get it?). Chada's character serves as a parody of those people who are overly fanboyish over certain nationalities and cultures, yet only have enough understanding of them to be grotesque caricatures. I think we all know some baka desus like that. That's not to completely let it off the hook as it seems like a sideways attempt of the Japanese makers to still make fun of Indian tourists as Chada is constantly confused about what proper customs are. That in itself isn't too bad, but Chada making notes about "showing people your butt and asking to be butt buddies is sexual harassment" is pushing it. At least they have actual Indian guy Dalgit at the episode previews who is something of a shitposter before shitposting became a thing.

There doesn't seem to be a point to all of this except to poke a bit of fun at everyone (Even the Americans get theirs in a throwaway gag about how us big-nosed, blonde-haired people tell horribly inappropriate, homophobic jokes). It all feels like a half-formed, missed opportunity, but there is something underneath if you do a little poking. Everything's slow moving in this series, which is how progress in such matters feels. These aren't problems that are solved with one meeting, one crucial realization, or a plan, and often feels like everything's going in circles. In a narrative, that's a tough sell, and whatever thoughts the series seem to have on the matter vanish as it goes along and merely just presses the same character prejudice buttons over and over for humor. Then there's NieA.


While I'm ripping bandages off: NieA is the cliched version of the worst things people say about minorities. A squatter who does nothing of value to earn their keep except trying to swindle others out of buying garbage and consumes all the resources of a roommate who actually works. Even in her feud with a snobby alien named Karna who thinks they are the de facto leader of Enohana's aliens because she has the largest antenna, Karna actually holds down a job. What's worse, while Karna's attending to her serving job, NieA eats a bunch of food and charges it to her, getting it garnished off her paycheck. This is a main character I'm supposed to be invested in, and without spoiling too much, I have to be emotionally attached to in the final few episodes. I kept waiting for some kind of turn, some kind of revelation. What happens to NieA is an external force that has potential to do that, and Mayu has to navigate a system that literally does not acknowledge under 7s as even existing. Like much of the ending, drifts off with the symbolism that everything eventually must change in a series where not a whole lot does at the finish line. You can just hear the scissors snipping the story threads as it concludes.

Despite all of this, there are quite a few aspects I admire about this series. ABe's character designs always have an amazing way of communicating everything about the person in a few detailed strokes. They're replicated in animation well enough (With ABe himself doing some key animation for the show). Even when it's not, "domestic poor animation" covers its backside a good amount, though there are some awkward closeup shots with characters in serious moments. Mayu is pretty great as a main character and the crisis she goes through is ever so relatable. She spends so much time trying to simply exist that she never considers where she's going or how to be one with the classmates who seem to live in an alternate universe from her. It's a shame her roommate never develops much past a comedic foil (The ending even says Mayu may never figure out what goes on in NeiA's head). As a comedy, there are a few good straight comedic episodes. The alien rival bathhouse episode has a well-tread payoff, but by golly, it works! The relaxing Hawaiian/bluegrass music fits the relaxing atmosphere to a t.



I still wish this came together more for me. There is a plenty to like here and I don't really have any negative feelings save the endless bickering between Mayu and NieA. If I may end my own little restriction of not comparing it to other ABe series, Haibane-Renmei has plenty of unanswered questions, leaves the viewer to fill in the spaces, and "life goes on" at the end of that, too. But it tells a complete narrative between the leads and the show is built to make the viewers' own experiences tie into how they interpret the story. NieA_7 feels like visiting these characters rather than following a story. Maybe that's the point and others will prefer the approach more than I do.

It's a near-miss. I certainly wouldn't discourage anyone from checking it out once the Blu-ray hits (No, I did not do this review with those. Right Stuf didn't ship this particular anime weeks ahead of their street date like a good amount of their product). However, it is the most light and minor piece in Yoshitoshi ABe's anime collection, and the relaxed tone with repetitive comedy may not be particularly filling, especially with the world of aliens living among humans not explored nearly as well as some would like. ABe's doujinshi "I am an Alien. I Have a Question" about an ant-loving, shapeshifter extraterrestrial disguised as a quirky redhead would've been better fodder for an anime with a similar concept, but I guess we'll never know. NieA_7 is a curiosity worth being curious about and there are dozens of titles over the past 17 years that are far more worthy of being shot dead and buried in obscurity than this one. Leave that bullet in the head of titles like Maburaho. Seriously.

In my last article, I used my Judaism as a springboard for discussing the controversial Tweets of anime director Kazuyoshi Yaginuma. I mentioned that while I'm disappointed in his remarks about The Holocaust and Israel, his outlook on both stems from a mindset built on Japanese militarism and a lack of exposure to Jews in large numbers. I still think he's an awful person, and he's shown no remorse when confronted, but that part of the equation needs to be factored in as well. For now, I can only hope that Yaginuma's reprimanded, which seems to be the case judging by Signal MD's recent post. To quote the site's English translation directly:

"Statement by SIGNAL MD concerning Tweets under the name of whom the director of 'Recovery of an MMO Junkie'

It has come to our attention that a series of Tweets under the handle, @yaginuma_san, apparently made by Mr. Kazuyoshi Yaginuma have included anti-Semitic comments. SIGNAL MD wishes to make it clear that it is strongly opposed to and deprecates anti-Semitism and all forms of racism or discrimination.

Mr. Yaginuma was director of the anime 'Recovery of an MMO Junkie' produced by SIGNAL MD, has never been our company member and is no longer employed by us.

Assuming the comments which appear under the Twitter handle @yaginuma_san, were indeed made by Mr. Yaginuma, they are not linked to his role as director of 'Recovery of an MMO Junkie' and are not supported by SIGNAL MD.

We will continue to create works that are moving and enjoyable, with the philosophy of giving excitement to many viewers and working to create works that satisfy our clients.

Thank you for your support and understanding.

SIGNAL.MD, Inc."

 

This is both reassuring and not so reassuring. On one hand, it's awesome that Signal MD isn't standing for Yaginuma's Antisemitism. Accountability's tough to come by these days, so every shred of it is refreshing. Especially when it involves quashing hateful rhetoric that reflects badly on a company's image. As a Jew myself, it also provides some semblance of closure.

This statement shows that there are limits as to what's accepted by employees. Granted, sometimes that can work against the employees, as evidenced by Nintendo's firing of Alison Rapp a few years back, even if what they do is legal and within their jurisdiction. Still, reprimanding an employee for reflecting poorly on a company, as is the case with Yaginuma, makes me hopeful. It also makes me wish more Western institutions would take notes (I'm looking at you, Twitter!)

Still, for all the good this gives us, I can't help but be a Negative Nancy and take fault with facets of its phrasing and intent. If you'll indulge me, I'd like to point out the parts that are concerning.

Let's look at the opening statement. The words "it has come to our attention" and "apparently" stick out like a sore thumb. Why did it only come to Signal MD's attention now? Was Yaginuma not extensively-screened before being selected as an anime director? Keep in mind that Yaginuma's Tweets date back to 2012, perhaps even earlier. Recovery of an MMO Junkie debuted last year. Considering Yaginuma's Antisemitism began in Japanese, wouldn't it make sense for a Japanese company to check for red flags?


Also, why wait until now to post this? Why wait until people complained? I get that Signal MD's probably busy with plenty of other concerns, but this isn't a scheduling screw-up or delay. Yaginuma, like it or not, is their ambassador of anime to the outside world at the moment. His Tweets reflect badly, and isn't honour something Japan prides itself on?

And what's this "apparently"? Yaginuma's Tweets were objective and concrete. He openly challenged the authenticity of the gas chambers! He openly called out world Jewry for conspiring to control the world's institutions! He openly virtue-signalled the word "goyim" to alt-right Twitter handles! This isn't "apparently", this is "actually"!

Signal MD's statement, confusingly, goes on to mention that Yaginuma was never part of their company, yet is no longer employed by them. I can't call myself an expert in Japanese anime, but that sounds contradictory: if Yaginuma wasn't part of Signal MD, then how's he no longer employed by them? Was he fired? Forgive me for playing dumb, since it's possible he was under a time-sensitive contract, but I'm getting a "rinsing our hands of guilt" vibe from this remark.


The next part of the statement, which-again-assumes that Yaginuma wrote these Tweets (even though he), doesn't help. Signal MD says the Tweets don't reflect Yaginuma's work on Recovery of an MMO Junkie. That's true to an extent, but an artist can never be 100% separated from their worldviews. I try to not let Roman Polanski being a statutory rapist influence my enjoyment of The Pianist, which I consider one of the greatest movies about The Holocaust, but at the end of the day he's still a statutory rapist. And JK Rowling, brilliant an author she may be, can't divorce her own recently awful hot-takes about diversity and representation from Harry Potter, so neither can I. The author can influence public perception of their own work sometimes.

So while Yaginuma may not "reflect Recovery of an MMO Junkie", he reflects Signal MD. Like I said earlier, his Tweets aren't new. They go back almost a decade, and not catching that is an error on their part. And while screening doesn't catch everything, it should definitely catch an influx of offensive Tweets. There's no excuse.

I'm also worried because Yaginuma's expressed no regrets for his behaviour, even showing open honesty on Twitter about his Antisemitism. This is most-apparent in his response to Ellation's Twitter handle, where he angrily mentioned that his Tweets to Lynzee Loveridge "weren't for public discussion" before bringing up the Jewish financing nonsense again. If that's not reason for alarm, then I don't know what it is. Especially since it's common for awful people with power to feign innocence and either hide like cowards, or play the pity card, when caught. If you want proof, peruse the responses of predators that were dragged into the open with #MeToo.


I get it: people often make comments or remarks that come back to bite them. I'm no different in that regard. But whereas I'm willing to take responsibility, someone like Yaginuma won't. They'll simply use a diversion tactic and hide behind an illusory smokescreen, hoping it'll shield them from accountability. If Signal MD wants me to take their statement of apology seriously, they need to own up to this behaviour properly. Because, to quote a famous rabbi, "If not now, when?"

The old man is looking at old man things again. Surprise surprise. There's plenty of "it doesn't need to be said" about Secret of Mana. It's one of the classics of the SNES and makes plenty of best games of all time lists for good reasons. Sadly, it doesn't for me. As aesthetically perfect as it is (The soundtrack is in the Top 5 of all games. Easily), playing it is an occasionally buggy mess with a battle system with too many unnecessary pauses and characters that are too thin for me to get attached to after the HUGE jump in gaming narratives that was Final Fantasy II... uh, IV. But it was one of the few non sports and Goldeneye 007 games my brother would play with me and seem to genuinely enjoy, so I get the wide appeal. Seiken Densetsu 3 fixes almost every one of my problems and is one of the most ambitious SNES games to boot, but we didn't get that one. We got Secret of Evermore, and if I try to discuss that, my rage will burn down everything and the universe will be nothing but crispy ashes. WHY WOULD YOU REVEAL THE FINAL AREA AND THE VILLAIN FROM THE OUTSET AND THEN TREAT IT ALL LIKE A SURPRISE?! WHY DOES THIS GAME THINK NAMING NON-EXISTENT B-MOVIES IS FUNNY?! WHY MAKE A GAME ABOUT CREATING WORLDS FROM HUMAN IMAGINATION AND THEN HAND THAT POWER TO PEOPLE WHO CAN ONLY CREATE THE MOVIES FROM MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000 WHERE THE CAST MOST OPENLY DISCUSS OFFING THEMSELVES?! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!...

...My original point is a remake that tunes up certain aspects, expands the narrative, and smooths out the translation isn't a bad idea. From the get-go though, it seemed this particular remake's prospects were more limited. The 3-D rendered graphics seemed an odd choice for one of the most charmingly sprite-animated games of all time. The early cutscenes showcased models that had awkwardly stationary mouth movement and voice acting that was... there. So perhaps not the shiny a new set of wheels one would expect. Getting my hands on the new version, it feels like one of the remakes that were prominent on the PlayStation mixed with the experiments from when the Sega CD and Turbo CD first expanded what could be done with a game: A decent enough replication of the experience utilizing new technology that is occasionally ill-fitting with some of the soul is lost in transition. I wish I could leave it at that, but AN ERROR HAS OCCURRED IN THE FOLLOWING APPLICATION.





Not that there aren't moments where the expectations are met. Right off the bat, the title screen recreates the wonder of opening up Secret of Mana for the first time with an ultra HD version of the title's key art and a majestic orchestration of the main theme. The prologue then takes the unique style of the artwork and winds a short narrative out of it. Then the reality of what the rest of the game is like sets in with the intro of our hero Randi as he and his friends sneaking into the forbidden woods of their village. The staging hasn't improved much since the days of the SNES, the characters mouths oddly stay in the same expression as they talk, and while the voices certainly fit the characters, the performances are off, like none of them are actually speaking to each other (Which is usually the case, but it's rarely so... overt). We'll get to the voice acting in a bit. As the main gameplay settles, the adjustment in the overhead view takes away their profiles and makes it so most of what can be seen on the characters and creatures is the top of their heads.

For those who are unfamiliar with the story, young Randi gets lost in the woods and at the urging of a spirit, pulls a rusty sword out of the ground. The sword turns out to be the legendary Mana Sword, an ancient weapon that defeated a fortress which almost caused the destruction of the world. With the sword's job these days only protecting the village, the removal causes monsters to attack and gets Randi banished. Why they would want the sword that is solely responsible for their protection far away instead of training the kid is one of the many "just go with it" moments from the game's 16-bit era story. Randi is eventually joined by Popoi, a mischievous sprite with memory problems, and Primm, a well-to-do girl escaping an arranged marriage to rescue her real boyfriend. Together, they try to stop an empire from reviving the Mana Fortress, a weapon that will lead the world to ruin, and restoring the power of Mana, the energy that gives life and protection to the land.



The story wasn't anything too advanced back in the day and it's only gotten weaker with time. The real thrust of the narrative was usually dramatic moments mixed with Hiroki Kikuta's masterful music cues. What really hits me this time around is how much it feels like the plot was made up on the spot. There are three criminals who fade in and out of your periphery that only feel like they were added to pad the time and to fill the quota of two guys and a girl comic relief villains that were the fad at the time (See also: Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water). Later on, we find out some of the main villains did a deal with the underworld and a demon named Mavolia who was never even brought up before now and had nothing to do with the world's mythology until this point. This past and potential cataclysms are mostly Miyazaki "the earth striking back on humans for their greed" tales before plopping THE DEVIL onto the table. As I said, just go with it. There's also obnoxious plot bottleneck Sage Joch who is there to make sure you did all of your homework before getting to the final part of the game and disappears the moment you do.

The remake tries to bolster the characters and plot by giving extra cutscenes, cleaning up the dialogue from the original and adding extra dinner table conversations to expand the leads when you stay at an inn. While underlining certain aspects that were unclear in the original (Or at least, its translation) is nice, the dinner chats only hammer in the two-dimensional points of the leads over and over. Every third word out of Primm is Dyluck and Popoi has a consistent schtick abut how the rest of the party are his underlings. Since someone like me who has played through the game many times can breeze through it often without stopping to rest and save, the inn talks will lag far behind what's happening at the moment. The addition I really wanted was fleshing out Thanatos as a villain. I mean, you have a guy who sucks the lifeforce out of people and makes them his slaves while hanging out in ultra-creepy shrines with unsettling horror music (Where they presumably worship that Mavolia thing. You'd think they'd bulldoze those...). His deal is essentially he's an ancient sorcerer who body hops to maintain immortality, but the rest of him is he's evil because he's evil. There're some added lines about how the empire wants the Mana Fortress to attain ultimate order, but nothing groundbreaking. The cutscenes add little to the mix and mostly squander what potential they do have. They leave an awesome reveal of Flammie, your flying dragon transport, to unconvincing cutting between cutscene and in-game elements. You couldn't have ONE shot of Flammie rising above the castle walls to the awe of your party in the cutscene? How do you miss that slam du-AN ERROR HAS OCCURRED IN THE FOLLOWING APPLICATION.



Added to cutscenes is almost everyone in the game has their lines read by a voice actor. Every villager, ferryman, lighthouse manager, and dancing merchant is voiced by an actual person. The results are wildly uneven. Again, like a CD remake of a cartridge game where they have access to more memory to add novelties like ACTUAL PEOPLE TALKING! WOW! The biggest concentration seemed to be on whether the voice fit the character than the actual acting. You'll have a random NPC give a really good performance for the all of two lines, and then one of the main characters will seem completely uninterested for blocks of conversation. I don't feel like calling anyone out since I'm pretty sure this was done as cheaply as possible and the people were rushed and not compensated very well. Since there are so many people, they also try so many random accents with no cohesion. Southern belles and guys from tha' Bronx are EVERYWHERE (Granted, you can hardly go anywhere in the U.S. where there isn't a guy from New Yahk whose only attribute is he's from New York). It's hard to get absorbed into any of this, but one can be amused by the people who just Kevin Costner their way through whatever dialogue they're given. You can switch to Japanese, but the only reason it would be better is if you don't have a sense of what a good or bad performance in the language sounds like.

The graphics themselves are better than comparisons would grant. Look, the original was so full of life in every sprite and animation and they did mess up that by not staying true to that as well as taking some "cuteness" out of certain enemies. There's a vampire boss where its expressive face and constant finger snapping are completely facelifted to make it more threatening, I guess. To me, it feels like a maker of a Dragon Quest game sending a note to Akira Toriyama saying, "Look, buddy, I know you're EXTREMELY famous, but we're going to have to pass on these enemy designs because they're not scary enough. Sorry." Which is a shame, because the 3-D artists took serious effort to transition the character designs to this style if you take a look at the beastiary and character guides. The scenic quality of the world is cut a decent amount due to the rounded edges of modeling (You can get an idea how it compares to the SNES directly as the mini-map in the corner is lifted from the original's graphics). However, I will say the animation is smooth and there are specific textures and details that shine such as water and the feeling of height and depth of field when you're facing certain altitudes.



To my favorite aspect from the original: The music. This is certainly a fascinating case. As someone who knows of Hiroki Kikuta's experimental Secret of Mana+ album, it's not surprising to see the soundtrack take some risks. Instead of merely upgrading the sound quality, each piece is completely remixed and given its own approach. This reminds me of Overclocked Remix, a website that consists of various artists giving their own takes on classic video game music (Who have, coincidentally, done a Secret of Mana project). That's because this soundtrack essentially is a remix joint between nearly a half-a-dozen composers, most notably Yuzo Koshiro (Old buddies with Enix from the Actraiser days).The approach defeats the uniformity of the original, but there are some amazing takes and occasional involvement with the Tokyo Symphonic Orchestra as well.

When the Sega CD and Turbo CD were first implemented, there was a rush for composers to add in live instruments to works like the shredding guitar on the Sega CD version of Final Fight that's in there because they could. Some of the examples here are excellent. The acoustic guitar section of the Lofty Mountains, the Xenogears-esque chanting of the Mana Fortress, or the Jerry Garcia solo of Matango (See, because it's a land of mushrooms and Jerry Garcia was known as Father Mushr... you know what? I'm not helping my "I'm old" business with this....) are all inspired or do something to make an old work new. There are also absolute disasters that are nothing but layers of noise working against each other with the original melody trapped over bagpipes and an obnoxious beat. How you screw up something as simple and wonderful as the Empire town theme this badly is beyond me. The rule of thumb for the remixed tracks is the louder and more boisterous the song, the more likely it got messed up. The ratio of great, okay, and terrible is about equal. Thankfully, you can flip on the original soundtrack as you'd like.



With the gameplay, there is a decent amount of monkeying around, but what it fixes and breaks is still a bit unclear. I stand by the assertion the original, despite being exceptionally charming, is rather clunky to play and many of its features don't mesh together. The ring inventory and magic system was neat for the time, but everything is comparatively slow now unless you have a couple friends on local multiplayer to manage their own magic. The addition of a few hotkeys helps, but trying to level up your magic is still tedious. You level it up by casting spells from each elements and Popoi and Primm each have their own leveling system for each individual disclipline. Somehow, casting is slower on this new version and it still takes a good while to level up spells. It especially gets rough when the spellset attacks have a random status effect on either the party of the enemies with usage, or the only thing Primm has on one element besides revive is wall, which prevents your characters from healing with non-items. It's rewarding when you can effectively use the good stuff, but it's also grinding that is at many times unnecessary. Weapons rely on a similar leveling system, and even though there are plenty of fun instruments of death to experiment with, you'll mostly keep it to three or four with two of them likely the whip and ax to help venture over environmental obstacles in the dungeons.

However, my biggest issue with the original was the wonky hit detection and the fighting mechanic that required you to wait until your swing charges up to 100% or higher, depending if you want a heavier blow.  This ground the game to a halt at times and made melee combat obnoxious. Striking with a regular hit is cleaner in the remake, hitting an enemy at 90% rather than 100% is no longer useless, and adjustments to computer AI of your partners make it easier to chain together attacks and keep an enemy own. In the old game, you had a chess board that adjusted each character's computer AI for defense and attack. In this one, they are simplified to being able to assist by attacking the enemies you're attacking or getting the other creatures off you. Maybe it's because I could never tweak the AI in the original correctly, but I had way more success in this version to the point where I never got a game over until the Pure Lands, where the difficulty intentionally spikes to make sure you can handle the rest of the game. Single enemies (and therefore, bosses) are no problem whatsoever, and the only trouble comes when you're overrun by three or more or the computer allies gets caught up with enemies after you've run past and forgotten them. After all these years, your AI pals STILL get stuck walking around corners, but at least the entire screen doesn't get held up as a result. It's far from perfect, but the more streamlined battle is especially welcome to a person whose characters would constantly get glitched and exploited by enemies to death. No no, the main glitches have less to do with battle and more to do wi-AN ERROR HAS OCCURRED IN THE FOLLOWING APPLICATION.



All right, I was willing to give this a straight good rating. It's not what it could be, but the game has never felt breezier and I enjoyed myself. I can live with bugs. Given the original where even legendary programmer Nasir couldn't straighten everything out, it's almost expected. I experienced one where all my characters died but could still wander around, and another where Popoi's physical form would vanish until I quit out of the game. Weird and mildly funny. Then the crashes started happening on my PS4 physical edition. Earnestly at first. Oh, I have to backtrack five minutes. Shoot. Then as the dungeons kept getting more cumbersome and lengthy, the crashes started getting more irksome. It usually happens after an hour of playing and if you're in the middle of combat. Once you get to the endgame areas with multiple bosses, this is a common happening and tearing yourself away to save is either extremely difficult or a huge hassle. Thankfully, there is an auto-save feature added to the normal saving, but I still have to re-watch certain dialogue scenes and IT SHOULDN'T BE HAPPENING. This is almost the remake of Flashback levels of amateur where you occasionally fell through the floor in that game by doing nothing at all.

So until a patch is made, this gets a downgrade. Still playable as I made it through the dang thing, but certainly annoying en-AN ERROR HAS OCCURRED IN THE FOLLOWING APPLICATION. AHEM, certainly annoying enough to warrant further pondering as a potential purchase, especially given we are awash in a wealth of modernized games inspired by the SNES era that have improved on their foundations, at least on a fundamental level (Warm and fuzzy emotions attached to titles and nostalgia are an entirely different metric I can't measure for you). Hmmm, this is my third 6 in a row. 6...6...6.... Man, if I hadn't proposed to my wife on Friday the 13th showing how much credence I give to this hogwash, I might be in trouble.

If you'd have told me 10 years ago that Mario, Nintendo's mascot, and The Rabbids, those obnoxious critters that double as Ubisoft's answer to Universal's Minions, would star in an RPG for a Nintendo console, I'd have thought you crazy. I'd have thought you crazier if you told me it'd be good. After all, The Rabbids were annoying memes that'd turned the Rayman franchise into a shovelware party franchise for the Wii. As much as I loved the Wii, seeing those migraines as anything but a mindless distraction was impossible. Yet here I am, having finally beaten Mario + Rabbids: Kingdom Battle for the Switch. And not only is it good, but it's one of the finest RPGs I've played in years!



Mario + Rabbids: Kingdom Battle begins in a lab, where a teenaged prodigy's battle accessory, Beep-Bo, notices that Rabbids have invaded her basement. One of the Rabbids steals a pair of goggles, messes with the space-time continuum and transports Beep-Bo and the other Rabbids to The Mushroom Kingdom circa 1986. Having recently witnessed the first defeat of Bowser, Mario and company are busy erecting a monument of Princess Peach. The monument, however, is destroyed by the Rabbids, who begin altering The Mushroom Kingdom. Desperate to bring peace, Mario, accompanied by two cosplaying Rabbids, and Beep-Bo head on an adventure to stop them.

As you can tell, the story of Mario + Rabbids: Kingdom Battle isn't its focus. Nintendo, for all their brilliance and innovation, haven't really mastered the art of the narrative. Nor do they particularly care to, so it never feels like a missed opportunity. Mario games have always been about gameplay over story, after all.

Speaking of which, the game, while not terribly-difficult, isn't a cakewalk. Perhaps I'm a bad gamer, having struggled at some point with every video game I've played, but there were a handful of battles and puzzles that gave me a mental workout. A few even required me to resort to an online guide, and even then, as with the final boss, I had to struggle. Regardless, the learning curve isn't too steep, meaning I never once gave up or felt I was being conned during the time spent completing the campaign. In many ways, that's a step in the right direction considering the sub-genre this game is part of, the Tactical/Turn-Based RPG, is notorious for being insanely-hard.


The game also has some overworld exploration. Though minimal and fairly-linear, Mario + Rabbids: Kingdom Battle's 4 main worlds, as well as Princess Peach's garden, contain intricate nooks and crannies with special chests that have collectibles. These collectibles include weapon upgrades, battle trophies and even skill points, the latter of which can upgrade your party members' techniques over time. The linearity might be a turn-off to some, but I guess simplicity is key.

The in-game battles also routinely shake-up directives to keep combat fresh and exciting. Sometimes, the objective is to clear the battle board of all enemies. Sometimes, it's only a specific number of enemies. Sometimes, it's really only one or two. Sometimes, the objective is to make it to the end-goal, either via an escort mission or a simple free-for-all. The individual battles also contain bonuses for completing them in the least number of turns possible/with all of your party members still active, increasing your stats and accruing funds for upgrades. But if that's too scary for you, the battles also have an Easy Mode that gives your party members 50% more HP.

I have two complaints about this game, perhaps even three. The first is that it's strict about which three party members you're allowed to use, or which ones you're allowed to use at a given time. Mario can never be unselected, and there must always be at least one Rabbid active. This is frustrating because the Mushroom Kingdom players, Mario, Luigi, Princess Peach and Yoshi, have a special move that lets them attack (sometimes more than once) when it's not their turn, while the Rabbids have unique gimmicks that make them an asset in combat. The mixing-and-matching makes for interesting strategies, but the inability to fully-choose is a setback.


And second, the in-game camera is tight to maneuver, and in some places it's even static. This has cost me some bad moves from-time-to-time. It's also allowed me to encounter the odd glitch. Fortunately, it's not a deal-breaker, but rather a minor nuisance on-par with the Switch's battery life. Yet it's something to be aware of.

That all having been said, this game's a lot of fun. It's a little on the short side-including the secret areas, there are only 40 levels in total-so an experienced gamer can beat it in 12-15 hours, but to those willing to overcome their skepticism, this is a worthy entry in your Switch library. Also, the final boss is a welcomed challenge. That alone will require a good chunk of skill and strategy.

Would I recommend Mario + Rabbids: Kingdom Battle? Absolutely! It's not perfect, the aforementioned issues hold it back, but it's close-enough to give plenty of praise. If you like Mario games, yet have been dying to see him in a Tactical RPG, this game's for you. If you like RPGs in general, this game's for you. If you like both, this game's also for you. But if you simply like good games, and are open to something bizarre and unexpected, perhaps this game's for you too. I know I had a blast with it, pardon the pun!

The year was 1999. The N64 was in its third year of circulation. Despite underperforming next to the PS1, the N64 already had an impressive line-up of first and second-party games. However, nothing could've prepared Nintendo fans for the game-changer headed their way. And it started with one of the most-bizarre commercials ever shown on TV in the 90's:


This is still simultaneously the weirdest and greatest promo for a Nintendo game in my mind, and there are many reasons for that. But I'll let The Nostalgia Critic explain that for me, because it'd take too long. Besides, I discovered this game initially in a neighbour's house while dog-sitting, as 9 year-old me was bored of looking after their dog and headed upstairs to the kid's room to keep myself occupied. Sure enough, there was the N64 console that'd introduced me to the likes of Super Mario 64 and GoldenEye 007, tucked away neatly in the corner. Right next to it was a tiny TV, and inside the console's top-loader slot was a weird-looking fighting game I'd never seen before. It looked cool, so I gave it a shot.

That one game kept me going for a full-hour.


I have many fond memories of the Smash Bros. franchise as a whole. I remember playing the original game at my cousin's house whenever I slept over (he lived in a different part of the city, so it didn't happen often.) I remember when my other cousin, who lived 6 houses away, bought Super Smash Bros. Melee for his Gamecube in 2002, and how me bragging about the head-start I'd had with a carpool buddy came crashing down after a single loss at his hands. I remember anxiously checking for daily updates for Super Smash Bros. Brawl on Nintendo's website, and how that might've overhyped it for me. And I remember buying Super Smash Bros. WiiU last year, only to realize I jumped on the WiiU train too late.

Most-importantly, however, each new entry in the franchise was a big event in the gaming world. Which begs the question: what is it about the Smash Bros. franchise that makes it endearing 19 years later?

Let's start with the set-up: any hardcore Nintendo nerd will tell you that Smash Bros., at its heart, is a fighting game franchise. And not any old fighting game franchise, but one that doubles as a party game franchise. Competitive gamers can debate this forever, but when a game doubles as something you play with your kids, or with some friends while inebriated at 2:00 in the morning, it's also a party game. This isn't necessarily bad, as party games have wide-appeal when done right.


It doesn't stop there, though! Aside from being a party franchise, the Smash Bros. games also double as solo-mode games with their single-player options. Whether it's tackling the Story Mode (or Classic Mode, as it'd be called in future entries), tackling the Adventure Mode's sprawling worlds (something introduced in Super Smash Bros. Melee), or simply collecting trophies, the Smash Bros. games frequently made sure you always had something to come back to. The variety of the single-player options was limited, and frequently repetitive, but it was something nonetheless. You also had the option to shoot the end-credits for bonus points, which came in handy when unlocking new stages and characters.

Speaking of which, the Smash Bros. games had a unique way of unlocking additional stages and characters. I'm not sure if this is unique to the franchise, but every Smash Bros. game has in-game criteria for expanding its roster and fighting locations. Sometimes the objective's as simple as playing a certain number of matches. Sometimes the objective's more challenging, with players being forced to do something arbitrary or specific. This made the games unpredictable, especially when said criteria were met by accident. These days it's easy to look up the conditions online, but back then you were constantly kept guessing.

In the event that you did unlock a new character, the games would have you duke it out in an all-out brawl. If you lost, no biggie: you could always try again. If you won, then the character was yours whenever. This made the matches challenging to the experienced, yet not so challenging that they were unfair to beginners.


However, it's the competitions with friends and family, or even complete strangers, that made the Smash Bros. games such a huge success. I can't begin to tell you how many hours I spent battling people in VS Mode! This isn't counting sequels, which'd most-likely triple that number! I kept coming back whenever I had the chance, making the Smash Bros. games some of my most-played. That might make me a weirdo, but I don't regret it for an instant!

And all of this…while utilizing some of Nintendo's most-popular characters. Lore has it that Super Smash Bros. featuring Nintendo characters was originally an afterthought, and it showed in the limited budget it received. But it didn't really matter: the original roster of 8 characters, as well as the 4 unlockables, was enough to please long-time fans desperate to see Donkey Kong face-off against Samus Aran and Captain Falcon in an arena of their choice, so it clicked. It's only gotten bigger as more money was poured into future sequels.

Not to mention that, ultimately, with the crossover appeal allowing for third-party additions in later games, the Smash Bros. franchise is the pizza of fighting games: it's easy, it's accessible, and you can mix-'n-match it however you desire. I dare you to say otherwise!

Content Warning: Discussions of the third movie will involve gang rape and the fifth movie involves scenes of domestic abuse.

The Garden of Sinners is free of its bonds! Well, sort of. To say this series of movies from the impeccable craftsmen at ufotable has had a problem with accessibility is an understatement. Producers Aniplex took control of their own U.S. distribution in the way Japanese companies do when they want to try to repeat what they do in Japan; that is, price gouge on physical media because there are way too many middlemen involved and do head-scratching things with the streaming rights. You can buy Garden of Sinners in its full glory on Blu-ray any time you please... for over $300. The cheaper sets for "only" $150 are long gone. When the rights first came over here, they did make each movie available for individual rental... on the PlayStation 3. Eventually, there was the whole Aniplex deal with Amazon's ill-fated double-paywall service Anime Strike. As that fell, so seems the deal with Aniplex and The Garden of Sinners is at last on Crunchyroll, a reasonable service where a decent amount of anime fans can finally see the cult series; likely a cult series because the botched release wouldn't allow it to be anything else.




I will start by saying the movies don't give the best first impression. Oh, the opening shot of a character reflected in an eye is gorgeous as is a good lot of the imagery to follow. That's not it. To describe it, I'll have to dust off the word portentous. The first movie is far more of an introduction through mood than it is through plot or character building. There's enough information to get by. There's this doofus Mikiya Kokutou who seems to look after a brusk woman named Shiki who lives in a bare apartment. They work with Tokou, a woman who makes realistic, human-sized dolls, and together they appear to take on cases of a supernatural nature. In this instance, a series of suicides that occurred at a rotting apartment complex which has seemingly caused Mikiya's mind to "drift elsewhere." There are character interactions, but they're defined more by their responses to philosophical questions about what it means to be a human who flies or floats and other such ponderings. What it feels like is one of those dark, episodic supernatural series like Hell Girl given a slight gloss of Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence's esoteric feel. It doesn't help that the title, Overlooking View is tagged with the Greek god/Freudian concept Thanatos, giving it that feeling of trying too hard to establish its importance.

I suppose the main draw for certain audiences is it's an "alternate universe" to Tsukihime and Fate/stay Night as its source material light novels are written by Kinoko Nasu (AKA Natsu), but not to worry if you have no knowledge of the other works. This is not a case where you need to know anything about them to proceed with these movies. Despite his need to overwrite and have lengthy mythology and explanations about everything, it mostly sticks to the mythology within this specific series. And while one of Garden of Sinners' trademarks is a timeline that jumps around like crazy (You get used to it), the second film starts at essentially the beginning of Mikiyu and Shiki's relationship, where they meet as strangers in the night and again as high school classmates. Between an oddball nerd and the heir to a massive Japanese company who wears traditional garb to school, they make a weird friendship even if  Shiki is cold half the time. There's a reason for that, as Shiki reveals she has two personalities, one of whom likes Kokutou quite a bit. Unfortunately for him, that personality also seems to have an innate thirst for bloodshed, and a batch of serial murders investigated by Mikiyu's detective brother points to Shiki's night wanderings as the cause. The second movie mainly focuses on this relationship and a great worry of what will happen to Kokutou when he learns too much. His doofy belief in everyone becomes part of his charm and his tragic flaw.

The next two movies essentially iron out the rest of the concept and explain how Shiki became a fighter of the supernatural, why she has an artificial limb, and how she came to work under Tokou. It should be noted that each of the first four movies clock in at about 40 minutes to an hour, so it's not like these entries are spreading the story incredibly thin. They play heavy on atmosphere and their approach is more centered on piecing the characters together in little bites. There are climactic battles and a healthy dose of the supernatural, sure, but their main arc is essentially looking at Shiki from all angles as a person, a monster, a being who straddles between the two, and otherwise. It all works aside from the third movie which I'll address soon, but it neither takes off nor falls flat. Still, there's something about it....



It looks fabulous. It's ufotable's finest artistry on display, and if you need to know what their baseline is, check out an episode or two of Tales of Zesteria the X. 3D CG's a little wonky, but everything's beautiful and sharp with a firm eye for detail. But rather than their usual working off a popular game to pay the bills, this has some real ambition to go with their expertise in style and detail. The music is by renowned composer Yuki Kajiura around the start of her group Kalafina where she was starting to get more clout under commercial and critical successes such as the Madoka franchise. Like much of The Garden of Sinners, her music is not openly spectacular, but it takes hold in a weird way. The melodies and motifs slowly absorb into your mind until they linger for weeks at a time, and the reason to stay through until the end of the credits is not the Marvel-esque tease to the next feature, but the Kalafina tune that plays during it. Seventh Heaven, the Kalafina album that collects all of these songs, is available domestically on at least iTunes and I highly recommend taking a listen. As a final addendum to the music, the opening to the fourth movie may arguably be the best thing Yuki Kajiura has ever done, and as a piece of visual and aural storytelling, is a small masterpiece by itself.

There's more to it than aesthetics. There's a real curiosity about these dark places Shiki goes to and how they evolve, especially within her mind. It's like getting to close to a beautiful animal you know will tear you apart. The fourth movie especially gets into her psychology as it's a talky affair between her and Tokou. What holds it back is elements that feel too superficial. Oh, what, ghosts that cause the people possessed by them to commit suicide seems made up? No no, not so much that. What I'm talking about is what ultimately makes the third movie not work. Here we get into full-on TRIGGER WARNINGS FROM HERE ON OUT. SORRY, BUT ITS UNAVOIDABLE.

The third movie's story centers on a girl whose inability to feel pain leads her to become a victim of multiple gang rapes until one night, a sudden surge of pain causes her to explode most of the gang and engage on a revenge rampage on the other members. The issue here is not that it's about gang rape, but that every element is artificial and has no understanding of the massive weight it carries. All of the gross aspects are simply in service to a plot-twisty mystery and are utilized solely as shock value. The movie lingers carelessly on scenes of rape and the slow dissolving of a human soul in an undeserving way. Since none of it has any human resonance, it all feels tacky and cheap. The only real thing to come of it is why Shiki has a real disdain of Kokutou's kind side when he shelters one of the gang members that hadn't been murdered.



This is all build-up, mind you. Every series such as this really needs a standout centerpiece to truly make an impact, and boy howdy does Paradox Paradigm, the fifth movie, deliver. From the first moments on, there is something different about this movie; something special, and if the makers went through the endeavor just so they could make this, I would completely understand. Gosh, explaining it is my job and I don't know where to begin. Take a Japanese horror setting, add in the surreal, psychological rot of a David Lynch film that exists within the "normal" confines of modern society, fill it in with the convoluted-but-approachable mythology of a Steven King novel, give it an unwieldy title, and you have this. But while I have all of these works as a basis of comparisons, Paradox Paradigm is unlike anything I have ever seen.

It is one of those movies that breathlessly dashes from one wonder to the next, and while the dense nature of the plot and the intentionally loose attitude towards the passage of time left me dizzy and not entirely understanding everything that's happened, what I do know is I've watched something great. I checked into the career of director Takayuki Hirao, and this seems to be his breakout work after flirting with some heavy duty projects (He did the OP to Texhnolyze and was a unit director on Paranoia Agent). It doesn't seem like he's used it for much since, and after being in charge of the production disaster that was God Eater, I don't know how many more opportunities he'll get. He'll always have Paradox....

I don't want to tell you too much. The plot starts on a boy named Tomoe who dreams of his family murdering him every night until he snaps and murders them first. He's convinced he committed the act and there is even a homeless vagrant who walks in on the bodies and reports it to the police, but the authorities return to the condo to find the parents alive and well. This is only the beginning of a twisted and engaging tale that eventually brings in Shiki and Tokou to sort out the mess. The first half-hour is rather unflinching to the point of Tomoe literally watching his family break, violently abusing each other, ultimately leading to visceral stabbing. For the people who are sensitive to this kind of thing, it's extreme, but unlike the third movie, it serves a purpose. This entire film's style is to be disorienting and disconcerting with each individual's perspective in mind. In Tomoe's instance, he's literally living a nightmare.



To put it simply, the movie is a tour-de-force of visual storytelling. It has the usual anime plot of ridiculous and occasionally silly points taken straight-faced seriously. Eventually, everything leads to attempting to discover a place that has access to all written history, past and future. Um, sure. Then there's a point where Tokou casually talks about her old friends from magus school who did stuff like help attach souls to puppet bodies. Because people just do that. However, this is one of those titles that defines why people like me watch anime. It's over-the-top and overwritten, but by God, it has a sincerity and determination where every scene feels like this is the defining moment the makers must get exactly right for this slapdash of insanity to hold together, and they do, winning over the viewer in spades. Even scenes where a screenplay would only write, "Time passes....," are delivered with an effort usually reserved for climactic wars. Waiting in the wings in all of this is a Yuki Kajiura score that is made for works such as this.

It feels like I've been saying the same thing over and over. This movie is an incredible experience, and I would urge you to get through the previous entries to get to it. Skip the third flick if you have to. It's almost disappointing The Garden of Sinners has two movies after this, and even moreso the follow-up seems like filler. It only seems like a lark of a story as Shiki goes undercover in a Catholic school to help Mikiya's sister solve a disappearance that might've been caused by faeries. Not helping matters is Mikiya's sister has a hefty crush on her brother. Unlike most anime that deal this kind of card, it at least manages to handle it on an adult level with everyone realizing this isn't okay and that they're weird feelings to have, but it's a distraction. The "episode" is fine and has a satisfying climax that has more to do with the overarching story than expected, but it's such a minor addition and an odd place to put it.



Here we are at the last movie. On paper, this is set up to have a similar impact as Paradox Paradigm. The feature is double the length of the normal movies and the grand finale for the entire venture. Perhaps the issue is too much of this film feels like it's on paper. People complained The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya was too loyal to the light novel that the movie suffered by literally adapting it page-for-page, I've consumed both the book and the movie and that doesn't seem like what happened. Disappearance is a terrific film that stands with some of the best animated movies of the past 20 years and its only fault is the makers probably loved what they were crafting too much that they maybe didn't edit it as tightly as they should've. For a look at what directly adapting a light novel more literally really feels like, the final Garden of Sinners is more of an apt example.

The ideas are all there and the film even has moments that deliver on their promise. However, most of those involve voice actors Maaya Sakamoto and Kinichi Suzumura as Shiki and Mikiya respectively knocking some heavyweight moments between the two out of the park. The movie was directed by "Shinsuke Takizawa," which is a pen name for all the directors of the previous movies. As more a stew of various ingredients than its predecessor, the only vision that shines through is the light novel author. Long, atmospheric shots feel like pages of description forcing their way into a visual medium and long, unnecessary monologues are piled on top of themselves with nobody to say, "Maybe this half of it is unnecessary." Oh, and the author has no idea how police investigations work, as a random note. Stylistically, it's curiously standard for what iss ufotable's arthouse version of its work. The slow motion fighting in the rain and dearth of late 90's/early 00's film influences (There is a room that is every serial killer's dwellings after Seven) have more in common with their less hailed God Eater than Garden of Sinners.



The movie works. The villain is a bit of a step down as he's more of an idea than a character (Yes, that's the point, but that still doesn't make him interesting) and I can't say I'm a fan of the over reliance on lingering, visceral violence to sell the climax (There's near-rape scene with a severe drool fetish. I get the symbolism that the villain is more animal than human now, but this seems unnecessary given the half-a-dozen other brutal scenes in the climax). It's a satisfactory end, though. I just wish there was more to it than that. Maybe it's symmetry, with the most standard entries book-ending the experience.

If you've looked at the Crunchyroll listing, you'll find there are three more entries after the seven films. The first one is the epilogue that offers a finale akin to the post-credit sequence of Metal Gear Solid 4. A full 30 minutes is dedicated to a single conversation of the biggest pile of philosophical drivel since zero became one. Now, I am in the minority who finds the ending to MGS 4 to be one of the worst things ever written (It spends a long time trying to undermine everything it ever built while at the same trying to be the capstone to the whole experience), but I just don't like conversations that should be the emotional crux to an entire franchise be reduced to college kids having deep conversations about the nature of things. I found Julie Hagerty from Airplane 2 shouting, "Oh, WOW, man!" reverberating in my mind more than once here. At least he visuals are quite lovely and manage to keep a long conversation in one location from looking stale. The rest are extra stories from the stable of light novel this is based on. They don't really add anything essential to the mix, but they are neat little bits that somehow look better, have snappier pacing, and a better score than the narrative finale. Oh yeah, and every movie has the stop-motion animations from the theatrical pre-roll where Shiki plays an easily-irritated theater patron who murders talkers and people who don't turn off their cell phones.



Finally completing The Garden of Sinners, it's still as strange of a case as it ever was. The quality mostly sits at good with one spectacular movie and a bad one evening each other out, but it remains a light novel adaptation elevated by drive, atmosphere, and curiosity around its tragic characters. It's a unique collection of films that allows the people at ufotable to take on heftier challenges (Gee, because making rain drops slide down the window like it's a real-life recording in animation is easy, right?) and is certainly worth checking out if you can stomach the more extreme scenes and occasional LN word vomit. Anyway, the price of viewing is more reasonable these days utilizing a Crunchyroll subscription than dropping a few Benjamins on the Blu-ray set, so there's that.

The Third Movie

The Fifth Movie

Everything Else

In 2016, I reviewedThe Boy and the Beast. Despite really enjoying the movie, I made note that the film had a shafted theatrical release before coming to video in Canada. I still ended up owning the movie anyway, but given that Toronto, my home city, is home to the TIFF Bell Lightbox, it was really upsetting to have an Oscar hopeful not even muster up the courage to screen in time for The Oscars. This isn't a one-off either, as anime films have a tendency to not make it over here to theaters in droves.



What gives? Why do so many anime distributors overlook theatrical runs? Why do anime films that aren't Studio Ghibli-related get skipped-over? If anime wants to shed its unfair, kid-friendly image, wouldn't that be a good place to start?

I don't have answers, so let's run down why Western theatrical releases for anime films would be beneficial:

One of the key reasons for why people I've spoken to ignore non-Studio Ghibli-related films is because, simply put, they don't know where to start. We die-hards, after all, love to complain that Studio Ghibli is unfairly over-praised. We also love to complain that people ignore the high-quality anime films from other studios. But when you really think about it, is it fair to criticize others when they're unaware that alternatives exist? Why slam unintentional ignorance?

I'm one of the fortunate few who keeps up with this sort of stuff, so I know it exists, but I find it difficult to be unsympathetic to this issue when it rings home. Whenever a Studio Ghibli movie comes out here, it gets either a run in Cineplex's artsy theatres, assuming it's under the Disney banner, or a short run at the TIFF Bell Lightbox. In some cases, like with The Wind Rises and When Marnie Was There, you even get the choice of watching the movie in dub or sub tracks. This not only makes the purists happy, it gives options to compare and contrast. Everyone wins!

This is all important context for why other studios should follow-suit. I get that American distributors want a piece of the pie. I get that there's an untapped market for these films that could be struck so incredibly easily. I get it, and I want it to happen. But if you won't play by the rules, then why bother?

It's no secret that Studio Ghibli's oeuvre make up most of the highest-grossing anime films in North America. Spirited Away, for example, has hit approximately $10 million. The Secret World of Arrietty has doubled that. Even lower-end box office, like The Tale of the Princess Kaguya and When Marnie Was There, still hover well-above normal range. And it's all attributable to solid marketing campaigns and proper theatrical runs.

So why aren't other distributors following suit? Why aren't they taking cues from Disney's and/or GKIDS's handbooks and pushing their hot-button films into theaters? Remember, anime isn't a hidden market anymore. Plenty of people know it exists, even if they've had no exposure. By not capitalizing on this, distributors are missing out on potential revenue.

But it still keeps happening. The Boy and the Beast, like I said, barely had a theatrical run here. your name., the highest-grossing anime film of all-time in North America, barely had one too. A Silent Voice and In This Corner of the World didn't get runs at all, or if they did it was out of city bounds. I can afford to drop by my local arthouse theater and pay to see an anime film, especially now that I have a stable job, but I refuse to travel 2 hours to Brampton or Mississauga to watch something obscure. Especially not when I have trouble finding my way around the TTC!

For as much as reviews might hurt-or-help a film, the best reception is always word-of-mouth. It's one of the many reasons why Black Panther is still doing so well at the box-office, why Avatar had legs in theaters in 2009, and why films like Jupiter Ascending tanked financially. Word-of-mouth is a powerful tool for getting people into seats. Especially in the internet age, where information and news travel faster than they can be fact-checked. So something as simple as a recommendation from friends and family can do wonders.

Though, again, why's it not happening more? The short answer's that distribution companies aren't capitalizing on theatrical runs, which is both lazy and a missed-opportunity. It's lazy because it ruins the chances of getting easy money. And it's a missed-opportunity because it ruins the chances of getting easy money. Essentially, it ruins the chances of getting easy money.

But isn't that what anime distributors want? To get easy money? It's not like Disney hasn't already proven that anime films can sell tickets with the right kind of advertising, no? And don't try and fool yourselves: Disney was no slouch when it came to Studio Ghibli. Not all of their trailers and promos were good, but, as I've stated before, they've managed to get the numbers. If distributors want their anime releases to be taken seriously, they should follow-suit.

Going back to what I mentioned earlier, anime's reputation's still a little sticky over here. It's still viewed as childish, no doubt a half-life of animation's early history, and that hurts the many times it's tried proving otherwise. The one real exception, so far, has been Studio Ghibli. You know why? Because they've actually screened their movies in theaters.

Anime has the potential to do decently here in the West when the time is taken to screen it in theaters. The philosophy doesn't have to end at Studio Ghibli's work either! The friggin' Pokémon movies did this in their early days too, with the first three entries doing decently despite quality. And your name., arguably the latest hot-button seller, has also benefited from select screenings (outside of Toronto, that is!), with JJ Abrams being rumoured to be remaking the movie in live-action for…when, exactly?

True, anime will always have a stigma attached to it. That's not going to going away completely. But it also doesn't mean distributors can't challenge it by doing their part. Because unless you try, how will you know if you've failed? Aren't calculated risks the backbone of an artistic medium?

In Mother's Basement's video on this past year's Oscars, he mentioned that it was frustrating that The Academy doesn't consider anime in the same vein as other animation. This is true, but it's not as simple as pinning the blame solely on The Academy's demographic. It's a frustration that needs to also be extended to the anime distributors, after all! Because while they may talk the talk, when it comes to putting their money where their mouths are, guess what? They don't walk the walk.

I even pointed this out when I mentioned that films like A Silent Voice weren't screened in Toronto. I can't say much about other cities, but when you're ignoring the home of The Toronto International Film Festival, an event that has famous actors and actresses coming to promote their Oscar-contenders, then what does that say about the confidence you have in your film? Not much, to tell the truth. Yet it keeps happening, such that I'm quite fed up. It's not like The Academy voters are psychic…

Besides, one of the key factors in an Oscar nomination is financial returns. The Academy likes to keep on-top of hot-button films when they choose nominations. If a film isn't generating a profit, then it's harder to care. And if a movie isn't even given an Oscar-run, then, again, why bother? There's only so much leeway you can give a movie for consideration.

And there you have it: 5 reasons why screening anime in theatres is something more distributors should do! I only hope that someone actually takes this to heart, but I'm not holding my breath…

Every-now-and-then, I have the misfortune of striking gold by complete accident. Take last week, when, while writing up this list, I discovered the following article from November of last year. Remember that adaptation of Akira Hollywood's been unsuccessfully trying finish? Well, Taika Waititi wants a kick at the can too. But he's not content with a simple remake of the 1988 classic, either:

"'I don't believe the world needs a remake of the anime…I would really just want to look at an adaptation of the books in a new way…'"

To be perfectly honest, I'm torn on Waititi directing this film. This is, of course, assuming he still wants to. (This article's from November 4th, after all!) On one hand, it's a perfect fit: not only is he half-Aborigine, hence a completely unique perspective, but he's an incredibly talented director. Additionally, he's capable of handling an ambitious project that no one was ready to take seriously, as evidenced by Thor: Ragnarok. If anyone can tackle Akira's sensitive commentary on social elitism and classism better than Guillermo Del Toro, it's him.



On the other hand, I'm not so sure that this'll work. Ignoring that my initial pick for directing this film, Jordan Peele, left the project last year, Akira's not easy to make into a movie. For one, it's a dense Manga that even Katsuhiro Ôtomo couldn't fully-adapt in 1988. And two, this movie's been in production Hell for almost a decade. The last anime-to-live-action adaptation with this long a gestation period was Ghost in the Shell, and, well…we know how that turned out, don't we?

It's not like I wouldn't be game for a live-action adaptation of Ôtomo's book. Keep in mind that the original film, which depicted a post-Apocalyptic Tokyo, came out 30 years ago. It was also a 125-minute film based on a then-incomplete text. Ignoring the potential for a fully-realized story now, akin to the Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind film trilogy I so desperately crave, the state of racial and class relations in the world has changed drastically. Globalization has allowed for a racial hierarchy to develop, with white people being at the top of the societal food chain. Factor in the scary re-emergence of right-wing authoritarianism since the 2000's, the clash it's had with left-wing social justice movements and the constantly growing anxiety of police states in the West, and…yeah, now would seem like a great time for a film like this, wouldn't it?

Unfortunately, even if it did get made, there's always a chance of this being bungled too. Hollywood doesn't understand anime. It's few attempts at trying to have come off as either half-baked, vapid, or half-baked and vapid simultaneously. It's a vicious, self-cannibalistic, never-ending cycle that keeps reminding the masses how out-of-touch Hollywood executives are with what's trendy or socially relevant. Call me a Doubting Thomas, but I can only stomach so much of the "How do you do, fellow kids?" mentality before I'm ready to puke.


Besides, there's also the issue of getting Ôtomo on-board as a creative consultant for authenticity sake. And let's not forget, Ôtomo's faded from relevancy since the fiasco that was Steamboy in 2004. He's done some minor work since then, such as a short segment in Short Piece that he wrote and directed, but nothing's been on-par with the work he did in his prime. In the off-chance that he was used as a consultant, how much of his input would really matter? Would it be used at all? And would he remember the intent of something he finished creating in 1990?

These are all concerns that'd make me uneasy about a Hollywood adaptation of Akira under Taika Waititi's direction, even if he were to go to the well that was the Manga. Hollywood's been sitting on this project for years. It's seen screenwriters and directors come and go due to creative differences. It's seen casting suggestions change based on the hot-button stars of the time moving onto other, more ambitious projects. (Believe it or not, there was even a time when Leonardo DiCaprio was considered for the lead role.) And it's been stalled, reworked, stalled again, reworked again and stalled further, and all in the hopes of salvaging something. There's cashing in on a property that everyone loves, and then there's desperation. With the way the production has unfolded, this movie screams of the latter.

I'd love for a socially-relevant, modern-day spin on Akira. But I'd also love for a lot of projects to get the modern-day, socially-relevant treatment, and I'd love for them to be done right. But it's not always means to be. So while a Taika Waititi-directed Akira would be a cool idea, especially given his mixed heritage and cultural background, in the end I doubt that it'd work. Which is upsetting, but not entirely unsurprising given the state of Hollywood and its inner-workings. I could be wrong about this, and end up changing my tune should something actually come to light, but I highly-doubt it!


If all else fails, at least we'll have another punching bag for when we talk about why Hollywood doesn't get anime. Those are always fun.

Boy, Level 5 doesn't make it easy to review a sequel. Nor should they. Joe Hisaishi score and imagery blessed by Studio Ghibli aside, Ni no Kuni II: Revenant Kingdom feels like it's trying to shed its identity as an animated epic portraying an JRPG into its own thing, from the battle system to the approach to cutscenes to even the kind of retro it wants to appeal to. No longer Dragon Quest if Ghibli had been the character design team with a healthy dose of Pokemon, it's more a Tales of... game crossed with Dark Cloud, Suikoden, and the Miyazaki inspirations were more Goro Miyazaki's Ronia: The Bandit's Daughter... and I'm meaning that as a matter of fact and not an insult. By the way, this was originally suggested to be made solely for the West and almost didn't get a Japanese release. Strangely enough, the original almost didn't make it to the West because it flopped hard in Japan and they didn't think there was interest here. I told you this wasn't going to be an easy review.