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Rainy Day Reading 018: Cheer Cheer!
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Summer Wars: Masterful Fun, or Overrated Mediocrity?
Summer Wars is a 2009 anime film directed by Mamoru Hosoda. The 2nd of his 4 major films, and the 5th of his films in general, it’s garnered mostly-positive reviews. It holds a 76% on Rotten Tomatoes, a 63 on Metacritic and a 7.6/10 on IMDb. Nevertheless, it’s also received its fair share of criticism from fans and detractors alike. Which begs the question: is it good?
Those of you who follow my ramblings off-site know this, but for everyone else…I have a shaky relationship with Summer Wars. Much like Doug Walker and Jurassic Park, there’s too much silliness for me to ignore. And with Hosoda’s newest film, The Boy and the Beast, in theatres in a few shorts months as of writing this, I figured now was the time to discuss his most-divisive work. Are you ready? Because I am!
FYI, like my Howl’s Moving Castledissection, there’ll be spoilers here. You’ve been warned.
Summer Wars is unusual, as its biggest strengths and weaknesses often are one-in-the-same. But let’s start with the positives:
Firstly, this film looks gorgeous. I guess it’s moot to state that, since most anime films of note are, but it still needs to be pointed out because of its animation style. To quote JesuOtaku:
This ties in wonderfully to the intricacies of real-world Japan and OZ. In the former’s case, you see subtle plugs to Sony VAIO computers, Coca-Cola cans, Nintendo DS consoles, iPhones and various brands of trucks. You also see the elaborate intricacies of the Jinnouchi house, and it’s clear the animators had mapped every nook and cranny of the mansion in their heads before drawing. And OZ? It’s about as real as you can get for a digital world, complete with sports arenas, business stations and outer ports to the real world. It’s incredibly detailed and multi-faceted, and you feel like this world could exist in a parallel reality.
The music is amazing. It’s composed by Akihiko Matsumoto, and it could easily pass-off for a Hollywood composition with its variety of fast, upbeat orchestrations and quiet, somber tunes. Have a listen:
The sound design is also awesome. Summer Wars, like Howl’s Moving Castle, has the unfortunate disposition of being tricky to make sound effects for without it feeling hokey or cartoony, particularly in OZ. Fortunately, it doesn’t. It borders there on a few occasions, but it, thankfully, never quite reaches that level. I respect it highly for that.
I love the characters. I love Kenji and his mathematics nerdyness. I love Natsuki and her peppy naïveté. I love how take-charge Granny is. I pretty much love every character…save one, but I’ll cover him eventually. And they all behave like a real family.
Speaking of which, the voice acting in the dub is excellent! It’s a Mike McFarland-FUNimation effort, so it’s gonna sound good regardless, but it’s definitely one of his best. The characters all sound appropriate for their ages and archetypes, and not a single flat line exists. Even the actors voicing child characters, of which there are a few, are great at that, which isn’t easy given that adults voicing kids is tough to do properly. And, of course, kudos for bringing in Mike Sinterniklaas to voice what’s, arguably, his best role to-date: Kenji Koiso.
The fight scenes in OZ are amazing. They not only look good, but they flow perfectly. There’s no cheating or time-saving going on in the slightest, everything is paced excellently. Even the CGI is used thoughtfully and to enhance the story, as opposed to overtaking everything else. The fights are also a ton of fun to watch and genuinely suspenseful.
But it’s the real-world drama that makes this movie. Aside from some great jokes, the weighty themes of family are as profound and touching as possible. After all, this is a movie about the importance of your loved-ones, as emphasized through Granny’s letter. It’s something we take for granted, when we really shouldn’t. Family matters, especially in times of need, and Summer Wars reminds us of that.
Finally, this movie excellently balances seriousness and fun. When it wants to be serious, like when Granny passes away, it is. When it wants it characters to bawl their eyes out, it doesn’t hold back. But for the most part it’s pretty light-hearted and entertaining. I like movies that can pull that off.
Now for the bad.
The flaws of Summer Wars are pretty obvious. For one, there’s not a lot of creativity with its premise. If you’ve seen any “virtual reality gone wrong” movie since the 80’s, chances are you know what to expect. It’s pretty rote and predictable, right down to who created L.O.V.E. Machine and why. For such a high-profile film from such a high-profile director, that’s kinda disappointing.
On that note, the movie is a remake of Hosoda’s earlier short-film Our War Games. The only difference is that any references to the Digimon name are gone. But that doesn’t change the similarities. As in, the plot beats are practically identical, right down to the “everyone in the world bands together to fight off the enemy” climax. It’s not a deal-breaker, especially when this movie does it so much better, but it’s worth pointing out.
Speaking of a climax, there are two. The first one’s an elaborate spectacle, showcasing the power of global unity in a heartfelt way. Then there’s as brief lull, followed by another climax that’s more a race to the finish between Kenji and L.O.V.E. Machine (who, by the way, is pretty intimidating despite being one-note.) I enjoy both climaxes, but it’s a bit much. It’s something to keep in mind.
Moving on to more serious problems, the film uses some pretty tiring clichés. The most-egregious is “The Liar Revealed”. For those unaware, that’s when characters fabricate a story about themselves, only to be found out, leave the group after an embarrassing outing and return for the climax. Summer Wars does this out early on, and it’s tackled more tastefully than most, but it’s still pretty bad. It also raises the question of how no one was the tiniest bit suspicious of Kenji and Natsuki’s “engagement”.
There’s also a bad misunderstanding during the reveal. It comes right after Kenji’s falsely accused of hacking into OZ. No one ends up listening to Kenji, everyone suddenly acts overly-suspicious, some really dumb exchanges are had, it's painful. That, when coupled with The Liar Revealed, almost brings the movie to a halt. Seriously, why was this included again?
The final cliché is the pointless love triangle. Natsuki having an open crush on her uncle is kinda weird. And really, why? Is it because Wabisuke’s an oddball? Is it because he’s so elusive? You never know why, which isn’t helped by her using his credentials as a template for Kenji’s fake backstory.
Speaking of characters, I hate Shota. A lot. His shtick is that he’s overprotective of Natsuki for…reasons, and it’s unbearable. He’s whiney, miserable, accusatory, aggressive and never shuts up. And he’s an idiot. The only time he does anything helpful is when he takes ice from the computer room to keep Granny’s body cool…thereby almost jeopardizing the fight in OZ. Yeah, even his “helpful” moments are unhelpful, a fact not helped by him being unapologetic. If only I could watch Kazuma punch him in the face on repeat…
As for the animation, while really detailed, it has Manga Iconography going on. And it’s distracting. It’s not overly-frequent, but tell me Kenji’s body turning red when Natsuki tries guilting him into accepting her lie, or Kenji making a duck-face when he accidentally sees Natsuki naked, isn’t uncomfortable. It’s one of the reasons why the final scene sucks so much too. Essentially, it’s unpleasant.
And while we’re on the subject, that’s exactly what the final scene is. It’s basically Kenji consummating his relationship with Natsuki via a kiss, and it’s the most-awful ending I’ve seen in an anime movie to-date. For one, the Manga Iconography is everywhere, right down to Shota’s freaky face. Two, Shota’s distracting. Three, the goading on by the Jinnouchi family is embarrassing. And four, when Kenji passes out from a nosebleed, everyone laughs instead of calling an ambulance. Which is also where it ends. This is played up for laughs, but it’s not funny.
Additionally, Summer Wars doesn’t get the internet. At all. Which is fine for me personally, since I don’t either, but that might turn some viewers off. The sheer amount of nonsense in OZ, while cool, is mind-boggling, and internet aficionados will have a field day explaining why water valves don’t work that way, or why that fight scene was ridiculous. It might actually add to the fun, come to think of it. Or it might ruin the immersion, I don’t know.
Lastly, there are details that don’t add anything, like the whole baseball side-plot, and mini plot-holes, such as how OZ was hacked so easily, but that’s nitpicking.
Summer Wars is an interesting movie. Like I said, it is to me what Jurassic Park is to Doug Walker: fun, but also really silly. Its flaws are numerous, and while they don’t hurt the experience, they certainly drag it down a little. I’ve seen the film roughly 5 or 6 times, and each time its strengths and weaknesses clash. To quote Rob Walker, “Its stupid parts get stupider, but its great parts get greater.” It really is an oddity.
I’ve heard plenty of criticism lobbed at me by fans over the years, much of which leaves me baffled. Perhaps the biggest head-scratcher was when someone called my perfectly-valid criticism “Whitpicking”. Another one called it “Whitly-centric nitpicking”. I don’t get it: am I supposed to appease you? Am I supposed to pretend that a flawed movie is perfect?
I’ve also been accused of hating the film. To this, I say the following: I don’t hate Summer Wars at all. On the contrary, I think it’s awesome! I simply recognize that it’s flawed. Why can’t other people do the same?
In the end, it all comes back to the big question: is Summer Wars worth its praise and/or criticism? To that, I answer “yes”: “yes” to its praise, and “yes” to its criticism. Is it flawed? Absolutely. Is it fun in spite of that? Again, absolutely. But, above all, it’s important to remember that this is a Mamoru Hosoda film, and it was gonna be good regardless. I simply think that he’s made better movies before and since.
Those of you who follow my ramblings off-site know this, but for everyone else…I have a shaky relationship with Summer Wars. Much like Doug Walker and Jurassic Park, there’s too much silliness for me to ignore. And with Hosoda’s newest film, The Boy and the Beast, in theatres in a few shorts months as of writing this, I figured now was the time to discuss his most-divisive work. Are you ready? Because I am!
FYI, like my Howl’s Moving Castledissection, there’ll be spoilers here. You’ve been warned.
What Works?
Firstly, this film looks gorgeous. I guess it’s moot to state that, since most anime films of note are, but it still needs to be pointed out because of its animation style. To quote JesuOtaku:
“…[I]t doesn’t look JUST like everything else. It may be Studio Madhouse, but it doesn’t look like a Satoshi Kon movie just because they share a studio, for example. Director Mamoru Hosoda has very active, fidgety style to his characterization. People are constantly moving, even if they’re not really doing anything…”
Being a major fan of Hosoda, and having written a piece on his style, I whole-heartedly agree. Hosoda’s of the “ADHD” class of animating, as his characters are in constant movement. When Kenji’s getting backstory on the Jinnouchi family while on the bus to Natuski’s grandmother’s house, for example, none of the background characters are completely still: they sway with the bus’s movement, a few of the kids are playing on their handheld game consoles, the people in front of them are even staring out the window or reading a book. Conversely, when the Jinnouchi clan is mourning their matriarch’s death, a pan shot shows each family member in a unique pose. It’s refreshing to see attention to detail in an industry where it’s normally lacking, yet it’s par for the course with Hosoda.This ties in wonderfully to the intricacies of real-world Japan and OZ. In the former’s case, you see subtle plugs to Sony VAIO computers, Coca-Cola cans, Nintendo DS consoles, iPhones and various brands of trucks. You also see the elaborate intricacies of the Jinnouchi house, and it’s clear the animators had mapped every nook and cranny of the mansion in their heads before drawing. And OZ? It’s about as real as you can get for a digital world, complete with sports arenas, business stations and outer ports to the real world. It’s incredibly detailed and multi-faceted, and you feel like this world could exist in a parallel reality.
The music is amazing. It’s composed by Akihiko Matsumoto, and it could easily pass-off for a Hollywood composition with its variety of fast, upbeat orchestrations and quiet, somber tunes. Have a listen:
Overture of the Summer Wars
King Kazma
Letter
Everyone’s Courage
150 Million Miracles
The sound design is also awesome. Summer Wars, like Howl’s Moving Castle, has the unfortunate disposition of being tricky to make sound effects for without it feeling hokey or cartoony, particularly in OZ. Fortunately, it doesn’t. It borders there on a few occasions, but it, thankfully, never quite reaches that level. I respect it highly for that.
I love the characters. I love Kenji and his mathematics nerdyness. I love Natsuki and her peppy naïveté. I love how take-charge Granny is. I pretty much love every character…save one, but I’ll cover him eventually. And they all behave like a real family.
Speaking of which, the voice acting in the dub is excellent! It’s a Mike McFarland-FUNimation effort, so it’s gonna sound good regardless, but it’s definitely one of his best. The characters all sound appropriate for their ages and archetypes, and not a single flat line exists. Even the actors voicing child characters, of which there are a few, are great at that, which isn’t easy given that adults voicing kids is tough to do properly. And, of course, kudos for bringing in Mike Sinterniklaas to voice what’s, arguably, his best role to-date: Kenji Koiso.
The fight scenes in OZ are amazing. They not only look good, but they flow perfectly. There’s no cheating or time-saving going on in the slightest, everything is paced excellently. Even the CGI is used thoughtfully and to enhance the story, as opposed to overtaking everything else. The fights are also a ton of fun to watch and genuinely suspenseful.
But it’s the real-world drama that makes this movie. Aside from some great jokes, the weighty themes of family are as profound and touching as possible. After all, this is a movie about the importance of your loved-ones, as emphasized through Granny’s letter. It’s something we take for granted, when we really shouldn’t. Family matters, especially in times of need, and Summer Wars reminds us of that.
Finally, this movie excellently balances seriousness and fun. When it wants to be serious, like when Granny passes away, it is. When it wants it characters to bawl their eyes out, it doesn’t hold back. But for the most part it’s pretty light-hearted and entertaining. I like movies that can pull that off.
Now for the bad.
What DOESN’T Work?
On that note, the movie is a remake of Hosoda’s earlier short-film Our War Games. The only difference is that any references to the Digimon name are gone. But that doesn’t change the similarities. As in, the plot beats are practically identical, right down to the “everyone in the world bands together to fight off the enemy” climax. It’s not a deal-breaker, especially when this movie does it so much better, but it’s worth pointing out.
Speaking of a climax, there are two. The first one’s an elaborate spectacle, showcasing the power of global unity in a heartfelt way. Then there’s as brief lull, followed by another climax that’s more a race to the finish between Kenji and L.O.V.E. Machine (who, by the way, is pretty intimidating despite being one-note.) I enjoy both climaxes, but it’s a bit much. It’s something to keep in mind.
Moving on to more serious problems, the film uses some pretty tiring clichés. The most-egregious is “The Liar Revealed”. For those unaware, that’s when characters fabricate a story about themselves, only to be found out, leave the group after an embarrassing outing and return for the climax. Summer Wars does this out early on, and it’s tackled more tastefully than most, but it’s still pretty bad. It also raises the question of how no one was the tiniest bit suspicious of Kenji and Natsuki’s “engagement”.
There’s also a bad misunderstanding during the reveal. It comes right after Kenji’s falsely accused of hacking into OZ. No one ends up listening to Kenji, everyone suddenly acts overly-suspicious, some really dumb exchanges are had, it's painful. That, when coupled with The Liar Revealed, almost brings the movie to a halt. Seriously, why was this included again?
The final cliché is the pointless love triangle. Natsuki having an open crush on her uncle is kinda weird. And really, why? Is it because Wabisuke’s an oddball? Is it because he’s so elusive? You never know why, which isn’t helped by her using his credentials as a template for Kenji’s fake backstory.
Speaking of characters, I hate Shota. A lot. His shtick is that he’s overprotective of Natsuki for…reasons, and it’s unbearable. He’s whiney, miserable, accusatory, aggressive and never shuts up. And he’s an idiot. The only time he does anything helpful is when he takes ice from the computer room to keep Granny’s body cool…thereby almost jeopardizing the fight in OZ. Yeah, even his “helpful” moments are unhelpful, a fact not helped by him being unapologetic. If only I could watch Kazuma punch him in the face on repeat…
As for the animation, while really detailed, it has Manga Iconography going on. And it’s distracting. It’s not overly-frequent, but tell me Kenji’s body turning red when Natsuki tries guilting him into accepting her lie, or Kenji making a duck-face when he accidentally sees Natsuki naked, isn’t uncomfortable. It’s one of the reasons why the final scene sucks so much too. Essentially, it’s unpleasant.
And while we’re on the subject, that’s exactly what the final scene is. It’s basically Kenji consummating his relationship with Natsuki via a kiss, and it’s the most-awful ending I’ve seen in an anime movie to-date. For one, the Manga Iconography is everywhere, right down to Shota’s freaky face. Two, Shota’s distracting. Three, the goading on by the Jinnouchi family is embarrassing. And four, when Kenji passes out from a nosebleed, everyone laughs instead of calling an ambulance. Which is also where it ends. This is played up for laughs, but it’s not funny.
Additionally, Summer Wars doesn’t get the internet. At all. Which is fine for me personally, since I don’t either, but that might turn some viewers off. The sheer amount of nonsense in OZ, while cool, is mind-boggling, and internet aficionados will have a field day explaining why water valves don’t work that way, or why that fight scene was ridiculous. It might actually add to the fun, come to think of it. Or it might ruin the immersion, I don’t know.
Lastly, there are details that don’t add anything, like the whole baseball side-plot, and mini plot-holes, such as how OZ was hacked so easily, but that’s nitpicking.
The Verdict?
I’ve heard plenty of criticism lobbed at me by fans over the years, much of which leaves me baffled. Perhaps the biggest head-scratcher was when someone called my perfectly-valid criticism “Whitpicking”. Another one called it “Whitly-centric nitpicking”. I don’t get it: am I supposed to appease you? Am I supposed to pretend that a flawed movie is perfect?
I’ve also been accused of hating the film. To this, I say the following: I don’t hate Summer Wars at all. On the contrary, I think it’s awesome! I simply recognize that it’s flawed. Why can’t other people do the same?
In the end, it all comes back to the big question: is Summer Wars worth its praise and/or criticism? To that, I answer “yes”: “yes” to its praise, and “yes” to its criticism. Is it flawed? Absolutely. Is it fun in spite of that? Again, absolutely. But, above all, it’s important to remember that this is a Mamoru Hosoda film, and it was gonna be good regardless. I simply think that he’s made better movies before and since.
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Smut That Doesn't Suck: Food Wars!
You know, there can be more to smut than mere T&A. Yes, sexually-charged content is often the meat and potatoes of any given ecchi series, but there are many manga that take an equally fervent and sensuous approach to other subjects. For example, there's “food porn.” It’s a term that’s traditionally used to describe a work where the act of cooking or consumption is framed and described in the same manner of pornography. Every dish is laid out in the most decadent, lavish way possible. The characters describe the dishes in the most detailed, sensual terms, as if every bite was inducing the most exquisite orgasms known to man. So it’s not unreasonable for someone to combine food and sex and market that to a larger manga-reading public, although in practice it’s generally done with an older audience in mind. What is novel is taking that combination and framing it within a battle tournament series, but leave it to the folks at Weekly Shonen Jump to turn just such an idea into a success. That’s how we ended up with Yuto Tsukuda and Shun Saeki’s breakout manga Food Wars (Shokugeki no Soma).
I also have to give credit to Saeki’s art. It’s lively and packed with action, and thus every cook-off looks as spirited and intense as any epic fist fight. The characters are all distinct, cute, and anime-friendly in style. He uses lots of dynamic angles, lighting and framing to sell the drama of each encounter. Still, none of that can compare to the way he frames the food. Every dish is drawn in near photo-realistic detail, and it's framed with all the heady reverence of a cover spread for Bon Appetit, and such imagery more than qualifies this manga as food porn. That being said, the only thing he draws with more reverence is the way he draws the female cast. He uses a LOT of fanservice, usually so he can visualize just how good and rapturous Soma’s dishes truly are to those partaking in them. Women pant, fall to their knees, and frequently engage in bizarre and weirdly sensual fantasy sequences to illustrate the sensations that Soma’s meals create. Saeki is clearly pandering to the older segment of Shonen Jump’s fanbase with this choice, and he's also clearly pushing the edges of what their editors will allow. Fanservice is nothing new to Shonen Jump, but rarely did it extend beyond "tee hee, panties!" until more recent series like Food Wars. While some of his images are in questionable taste, they do generally fit well with the over-the-top tone of the story. The imagery is so ludicrous that it almost becomes funny after a while, and it helps that these moments get spread out a lot more as the plot proper begins. Still, I do wish he had been a bit more even-handed on the fanservice front. Yeah, there is some man-flesh on display, but it's more often treated as a joke than as something for the ladies to enjoy and it's more than clear where Saeki's priorities are located.
Smut can come in all sorts of shapes and sizes, and sometimes it can be just as much about satisfying basic needs like hunger as it is about satisfying one’s lust. Food Wars shows how you can combine those two desires and make them thrive in the relatively chaste world of shonen without sacrificing quality. Food Wars isn’t high art by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s fun to read and compelling as any good shonen manga should be. It even manages to combine its own particular flavor of fanservice with a lot of familiar shonen staples to create an experience that’s just as unique as any of Soma’s dishes. It’s honestly one of the better series currently running in Shonen Jump and those looking for good, cheeky shonen or a saucier take on food manga would do well to give it a try.
Soma Yukihara is your standard scrappy underdog shonen protagonist. His father runs a family-style restaurant in a neighbor that’s just as poor and scrappy as Soma himself. In fact, it’s so poor and scrappy that Soma’s first challenge is to save the restaurant from an evil yuppie businesswoman who wants to buy out the restaurant to develop it. He wins, but the victory is short-lived as Soma’s father soon shuts down the restaurant while he does a bit of world travelling. In the mean time, he’s enrolled Soma in the prestigious Totsuki Soryo Culinary Institute. The institute is lorded over by your standard overly-powerful student council, which in turn is dominated by the chairman’s granddaughter Erina. She was born with the taste equivalent of perfect pitch, and anyone who doesn’t meet her high and haughty standards is expelled with extreme prejudice. Soma meets her challenge and passes, but this not only earns her wrath but makes Soma the target of every other student with a burning need to prove themselves. Armed only with his skills and the support of an equally rag-tag bunch of friends and enemies-turned-allies, Soma is determined to not only prove himself superior to Erina and her kind, but to prove himself to his father.
It’s that premise which has carried this series for over 150 chapters, and upon reading it’s easy to see how this series became a hit. Neither the characters nor the plot are very deep – in fact, it’s basically the set-up for every coming-of-age kids’ movie and/or shonen manga ever, just with food. Yet Tsukuda imbues every single one of them with a certain degree of sincerity. Every character’s feelings are huge and sincere, and by god he is going to make sure that you feel them! He also clearly savors coming up with new and more vivid ways to describe each dish and ingredient, which helps give every character’s raptures their own unique flavor. He even carries over the poor vs. rich rivalry into the choices of ingredients and dishes that Soma and his opponents use. Many of Soma’s opponents are overly confident that their refined, mostly European styles of cooking and high-class ingredients will win them the day. Yet Soma wins every time with his twists on working-class versions of Japanese rice dishes and fried foods. His poverty will always give him the edge because he has experience with making the most of limited resources and his time behind the counter has given him the ability to adapt and think on his feet. It’s a dynamic that resonates just as much with Western audiences as it does with Japanese ones, and it’s hard to not root for Soma to hoist these snobs by their own petards. As someone with some experience with cooking, I can also appreciate the genuine cleverness of the twists Soma applies to his dishes. Best of all, the manga encourages you to try them for yourself by putting the recipes for them in between the chapters.

Smut can come in all sorts of shapes and sizes, and sometimes it can be just as much about satisfying basic needs like hunger as it is about satisfying one’s lust. Food Wars shows how you can combine those two desires and make them thrive in the relatively chaste world of shonen without sacrificing quality. Food Wars isn’t high art by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s fun to read and compelling as any good shonen manga should be. It even manages to combine its own particular flavor of fanservice with a lot of familiar shonen staples to create an experience that’s just as unique as any of Soma’s dishes. It’s honestly one of the better series currently running in Shonen Jump and those looking for good, cheeky shonen or a saucier take on food manga would do well to give it a try.
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Is Hayao Miyazaki Overrated?
The word “overrated” gets thrown around often these days, no? It’s funny because it has a specific meaning, and yet it’s misused so frequently that you’d almost miss that. It can apply to books, movies, games, even artists! As long as it’s “popular”, it’s fair game. I’ve even used it myself once or twice! Ironically, it’s as if the word “overrated” is overrated! Funny how that works.
Still, every now and then it’s worth analyzing whether or not something really is overrated, as is the case with even my favourite anime director: Hayao Miyazaki. And that’s exactly what I’m gonna do here! Aren’t I clever (read “predictable”)?
Firstly, what does it mean to be “overrated”? According to the dictionary, it means:
I brought Hayao Miyazaki into the equation because, on the surface, it’d seem like the man is definitely overrated. He’s the only anime director with two Oscars under his belt: one for Best Animated Feature in 2003, the other an Honorary Oscar in 2014. His filmography, thanks to Disney, is the most widely-known in the West as far as anime goes, easily standing next to Dragon Ball Z and Pokémon as far as mainstream appeal and acceptance are concerned. In other words, chances are someone you know has heard of at least one of his films, even if they’ve never seen them/watched any other anime. And his statements on the anime industry have made him infamous, for better or worse.
That said, when you stop and think, there are several reasons why this claim of being overrated might not add up. For one, that Miyazaki has won two Oscars isn’t an indication of him being overrated. Plenty of directors have won Oscars, some even more well-known than Miyazaki. Steven Spielberg, for example, has won 3 Oscars and was nominated 7 times. Quentin Tarantino, for another, has won 2 Oscars and was nominated 3 times. And Martin Scorsese has won 1 Oscar and was nominated 2 times. These are all really talented individuals who have earned their praise through hard work and commitment to the craft of film.
Also, an Oscar win doesn’t detract from an individual’s talent. I know this is a sensitive matter for the internet, especially given the controversy surrounding the Oscars in general, but having an Oscar doesn’t make make you any better or lesser an artist. It’s merely an acceptance by Hollywood of your talent, which, as we all know, is pretty fickle. Besides, when has an Oscar win stood in the way of Miyazaki? The man’s a grouch, but he remains ever-humble about his work and has referred to his films as “his children”.
Two, that Miyazaki’s work is so popular in the West isn’t his fault. Disney approached Studio Ghibli in the 90’s under the conditions that they dub all their work and not make any unnecessary edits or changes without approval. This included all of Miyazaki’s films, which’d already garnered a small, cult following in the West thanks to dubs from other, much smaller companies. Plus, Disney, being the money grubbers they were, spared no expense in the marketing department, hence why so many people have heard of him and why his movies frequently rank amongst the highest-grossing anime films in North America. If anything, Miyazaki’s success is more a by-product of Disney, not him.
And three, Miyazaki’s claims about anime don’t automatically invalidate his talent. Are they a tad unfair? Yes. Do they often sound like an old man whining about “those rotten kids”? Again, yes. But that’s Miyazaki being Miyazaki. Also, old people complain about youth constantly, so how is this different?
So yeah, I don’t think the general complaints about Miyazaki are enough to make him overrated, especially since they can be applied to anyone who’s old/popular. But what about the more in-depth reasons for why he might be overrated, like style and substance? This is trickier, but there’s definitely an argument to be made in the realm of content. Complaints like “being a one-trick pony”, or “everything he makes looks and feels too similar” can be supported with evidence, as, like it or not, there’s validity to both. I know that one of our writers on Infinite Rainy Day can dissect Miyazaki’s style with ease, so as to demonstrate why he’s a “one-trick pony”. As for the issue of similarity, it’s not surprising when you consider that directors generally re-use motifs and ideas in their work.
However, does this make the man overrated? Remember, one-trick ponies can be successful or entertaining if cleverly used. The late-Alfred Hitchcock frequently dabbled in suspense and horror, yet he was so good at making this motif feel fresh and exciting that no one cared. Conversely, Quentin Tarantino has been accused of re-telling the same movie from a different angle, yet he’s so good at it that no one cares. The reason why people get tired of “one-trick ponies” isn’t because they can only do one trick, but because they’re marketed as being able to do so much more.
I mention this because I think calling Miyazaki one-trick discredits his talents. Does he carry common motifs and ideas? Yes, he likes reusing environmentalism, nostalgia and coming of age in his films. But that doesn’t mean the movies themselves are the same. Having seen his films multiple times, I can assure you that Ponyo is a far-cry from Kiki’s Delivery Service and a further cry from Princess Mononoke in content and overall execution: the first is a film about parenthood, the second about independence and responsibility and the third about the balance between man and nature. They couldn’t be more different aesthetically or content-wise.
But perhaps the pettiest argument is that he’s become successful in ways that “other, far better directors haven’t”. To that, I say, “Welcome to reality! It sucks, doesn’t it?” It’s also incredibly subjective, as beauty is largely in the eyes of the beholder. A good chunk of Otakudom point to Isao Takahata and the late-Satoshi Kon as being more talented than Hayao Miyazaki, when I don’t think that that’s true at all. I believe that Takahata’s films are too slow and cold for their own good, while Kon tried so hard to push the envelope that he forgot to fully-engage me. I respect both as individuals and think they’re immensely talented, but I’m not really a fan of their work as a whole.
That said, it’s possible to not enjoy someone’s work and still consider them talented, and that’s where the core argument lies. So, is Hayao Miyazaki overrated? I don’t think so. He might be overhyped, but overrated would imply that his praise doesn’t match his skill. And I think that he’s too good for that.
Still, every now and then it’s worth analyzing whether or not something really is overrated, as is the case with even my favourite anime director: Hayao Miyazaki. And that’s exactly what I’m gonna do here! Aren’t I clever (read “predictable”)?
Firstly, what does it mean to be “overrated”? According to the dictionary, it means:
“[H]av[ing] a higher opinion of (someone or something) than is deserved.”
In other words, something becomes overrated when it’s over-praised. Not necessarily “over-praised AND terrible”, although that can sometimes be the case. When something’s overrated, it simply means that its merits aren’t as strong as they’re claimed. Keeping this in mind, it’s easy to see how it can be frequently misused.I brought Hayao Miyazaki into the equation because, on the surface, it’d seem like the man is definitely overrated. He’s the only anime director with two Oscars under his belt: one for Best Animated Feature in 2003, the other an Honorary Oscar in 2014. His filmography, thanks to Disney, is the most widely-known in the West as far as anime goes, easily standing next to Dragon Ball Z and Pokémon as far as mainstream appeal and acceptance are concerned. In other words, chances are someone you know has heard of at least one of his films, even if they’ve never seen them/watched any other anime. And his statements on the anime industry have made him infamous, for better or worse.
That said, when you stop and think, there are several reasons why this claim of being overrated might not add up. For one, that Miyazaki has won two Oscars isn’t an indication of him being overrated. Plenty of directors have won Oscars, some even more well-known than Miyazaki. Steven Spielberg, for example, has won 3 Oscars and was nominated 7 times. Quentin Tarantino, for another, has won 2 Oscars and was nominated 3 times. And Martin Scorsese has won 1 Oscar and was nominated 2 times. These are all really talented individuals who have earned their praise through hard work and commitment to the craft of film.
Also, an Oscar win doesn’t detract from an individual’s talent. I know this is a sensitive matter for the internet, especially given the controversy surrounding the Oscars in general, but having an Oscar doesn’t make make you any better or lesser an artist. It’s merely an acceptance by Hollywood of your talent, which, as we all know, is pretty fickle. Besides, when has an Oscar win stood in the way of Miyazaki? The man’s a grouch, but he remains ever-humble about his work and has referred to his films as “his children”.
Two, that Miyazaki’s work is so popular in the West isn’t his fault. Disney approached Studio Ghibli in the 90’s under the conditions that they dub all their work and not make any unnecessary edits or changes without approval. This included all of Miyazaki’s films, which’d already garnered a small, cult following in the West thanks to dubs from other, much smaller companies. Plus, Disney, being the money grubbers they were, spared no expense in the marketing department, hence why so many people have heard of him and why his movies frequently rank amongst the highest-grossing anime films in North America. If anything, Miyazaki’s success is more a by-product of Disney, not him.
And three, Miyazaki’s claims about anime don’t automatically invalidate his talent. Are they a tad unfair? Yes. Do they often sound like an old man whining about “those rotten kids”? Again, yes. But that’s Miyazaki being Miyazaki. Also, old people complain about youth constantly, so how is this different?
So yeah, I don’t think the general complaints about Miyazaki are enough to make him overrated, especially since they can be applied to anyone who’s old/popular. But what about the more in-depth reasons for why he might be overrated, like style and substance? This is trickier, but there’s definitely an argument to be made in the realm of content. Complaints like “being a one-trick pony”, or “everything he makes looks and feels too similar” can be supported with evidence, as, like it or not, there’s validity to both. I know that one of our writers on Infinite Rainy Day can dissect Miyazaki’s style with ease, so as to demonstrate why he’s a “one-trick pony”. As for the issue of similarity, it’s not surprising when you consider that directors generally re-use motifs and ideas in their work.
However, does this make the man overrated? Remember, one-trick ponies can be successful or entertaining if cleverly used. The late-Alfred Hitchcock frequently dabbled in suspense and horror, yet he was so good at making this motif feel fresh and exciting that no one cared. Conversely, Quentin Tarantino has been accused of re-telling the same movie from a different angle, yet he’s so good at it that no one cares. The reason why people get tired of “one-trick ponies” isn’t because they can only do one trick, but because they’re marketed as being able to do so much more.
I mention this because I think calling Miyazaki one-trick discredits his talents. Does he carry common motifs and ideas? Yes, he likes reusing environmentalism, nostalgia and coming of age in his films. But that doesn’t mean the movies themselves are the same. Having seen his films multiple times, I can assure you that Ponyo is a far-cry from Kiki’s Delivery Service and a further cry from Princess Mononoke in content and overall execution: the first is a film about parenthood, the second about independence and responsibility and the third about the balance between man and nature. They couldn’t be more different aesthetically or content-wise.
But perhaps the pettiest argument is that he’s become successful in ways that “other, far better directors haven’t”. To that, I say, “Welcome to reality! It sucks, doesn’t it?” It’s also incredibly subjective, as beauty is largely in the eyes of the beholder. A good chunk of Otakudom point to Isao Takahata and the late-Satoshi Kon as being more talented than Hayao Miyazaki, when I don’t think that that’s true at all. I believe that Takahata’s films are too slow and cold for their own good, while Kon tried so hard to push the envelope that he forgot to fully-engage me. I respect both as individuals and think they’re immensely talented, but I’m not really a fan of their work as a whole.
That said, it’s possible to not enjoy someone’s work and still consider them talented, and that’s where the core argument lies. So, is Hayao Miyazaki overrated? I don’t think so. He might be overhyped, but overrated would imply that his praise doesn’t match his skill. And I think that he’s too good for that.
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Rainy Day Reading 019: Wandering Son
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Further Reflections on Only Yesterday
A while back, I saw Only Yesterday online for Infinite Rainy Day. However, that was before its theatrical release in North America. Seeing as how I’d watched the film illegally and in its original language, I figured it’d be a good opportunity to see it again in a language I understood. After all, I don’t speak Japanese and would never pass up a chance to watch a film at the TIFF Bell Lightbox, so why not?
I’d like to state upfront that this won’t be a re-review. Aside from that being redundant, my overall thoughts haven’t changed all that drastically. Save a few details here and there, it remains the most 7/10 film in the history of 7/10 films to ever 7/10. Instead, I’d like to discuss my experience the second time around, as well as any side-point I want to make about the movie. So if you were expecting me to pretend that my original piece was suddenly irrelevant, well…you’ll be disappointed.
Anyway, the first point I’d like to make is one I’ve brought up before, both in its self-contained story and the general context of Isao Takahata’s oeuvre: Only Yesterday is too long. I understand that Takahata thrives on atmosphere, perhaps even more than Hayao Miyazaki, and that anime films rely on slow-burn storytelling, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t draggy. The movie already started to drain on me before Taeko had gotten to the countryside to visit her family, and that’s not even a half-hour in. Additionally, my friend, who’s been joining me in seeing Studio Ghibli films in theatres since The Secret World of Arrietty debuted in the West in 2012, actually drifted off at a few points. It didn’t help that I was constantly antsy, leading to my phone dropping out of my pocket at one point, because of the slow-pace.
For those about to say what I think you’re gonna say, yes, I can sit through a slow-paced film. I love the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and Schindler’s List is my fifth-favourite film of all-time. I respect a great deal of slow-burns and arthouse movies, including the slice-of-life genre. But that’s because they make better use of their runtimes. Only Yesterday constantly strains my patience, as do most Takahata films, such that I think a good 20 or so minutes could’ve been shaved off and it’d have been fine. I’m not exactly sure where I’d shave said minutes, but I stand by my claim.
The other point I’d like to address is the dub. Studio Ghibli dubs, let-alone dubs in general, generate a lot of controversy for not stacking up to the Japanese. Aside from this claim being case-by-case, this film has received criticism from Anime News Network for not capturing the essence of the original language track:
“Takahata's original voice direction had some very subtle, nuanced touches: 1966 sounds far more like 'normal anime,' with its heightened reality and bold emotions, than 1982 does. If you look away from the screen, conversations between adult Taeko and Toshio, and indeed everybody from those segments, sound indistinguishable from a well-made live action drama. It's an extremely naturalistic sound that heightens the contrast between the two eras and allows a lot of the nuance in the characters to take root. The film cannot bloom fully without such delicate performances.
This, I feel, is unfair for two reasons: firstly, it sounds snobbish. Perhaps the film sounds best in Japanese, I wouldn’t know because I don’t speak the language (my first viewing used subtitles, after all,) but that doesn’t mean that it should only be watched that way. It’d be like me insisting that the Babylonian Talmud be read in Aramaic, i.e. its original language, because of the specific diction choices and double entendres. Aside from Aramaic being a dead language, I don’t even speak it, it ignores the text’s ability to transcend time. The Babylonian Talmud has important lessons about Jewish law that can’t be ignored, and forcing people to read it in a language they don’t understand is cruel, unfair and liable to lose more meaning than if translated. Only Yesterday is no different in that regard.
And secondly, Only Yesterday’s dub is completely serviceable, perhaps even one of the best of Studio Ghibli. Is Dev Patel’s English accent the only negative? Absolutely, and I fail to understand why he couldn't throw it like Daisy Ridley did if he was able to do so in The Last Airbender. But I adjusted quickly. Not to mention, criticizing it for not matching the original completely ignores the lengths gone to ensure that many talented VAs and child actors voiced the side-characters. You rarely see much of the latter in high-profile dubs as is due to time and budget restrains, so it’s really short-sighted. This isn’t Grave of the Fireflies, where both dubs were hampered by a lack of appreciation or understanding of the source material, after all.
This is especially important because the dub resonated more with me than the subtitles did. For one, it’s a language I speak fluently, allowing for a better connection to the characters. And two, I understood most of the jokes and serious moments better. This was especially apparent in the scenes where Taeko’s family ate an underripe pineapple, the student assembly in Taeko’s school, when Taeko got slapped by her father for running out the front door in her socks and the argument over Taeko’s bad math grades. This doesn’t even include the scenes involving adult Taeko on the farm.
The one area that stood out most, perhaps, was when Taeko was selected to join a private theatre troupe because of her performance in her school play. In the subtitled version, Taeko made mention that she later discovered that it was a one-off, and that she wasn’t close to being as dramatically inclined as she’d thought. I didn’t get that because I don’t speak Japanese, so it was lost on me. In the dub, however, it made more sense once I realized that Taeko was performing about as poorly as your standard 10 year-old in a school play. As someone who used to perform in middle school and loved drama in high school, that hit home.
Honestly, a lot of aspects of Only Yesterday hit home with me on a personal level, perhaps more so the second time. Taeko’s insecurities about commitment especially struck a chord with me, especially given my own bad experiences. And given how I’m almost the same age as her, I'm turning 26 this July, and have felt the same, subtle pressure for marriage as her via friends and family, it stung when she was asked to marry Toshio in the third-act by her hosts.
I also related to young Taeko’s struggles far more than I initially thought. I also identified with Yaeko to an extent, being a middle child myself, but it was Taeko whom I really understood because her struggles mirrored some of mine: being a picky eater? Check. Constantly demanding attention? Check. Struggling in math and thinking she’s an idiot because of it? Are you sure you’re not reading my mind?
The movie also captures that sense of childlike wonder with Taeko’s past that speaks to me as a writer and creative mind. At first, I didn’t get it, thinking that it clashed with the harsher realities of the present. It wasn’t until I watched Chris Stuckmann’s review, where he drew the analogy to memories being romanticized, that I thought it over. It made that much more sense the second-time around with that knowledge in mind. I still think the vignettes occasionally lack context in the present setting, but at least now I understand them.
That having been said, a lot of the issues from my initial viewing remained the same. Ignoring the vignettes clashing with the present, the movie was too long, the ad for Puma shoes was distracting and the romance at the end was forced, a fact made worse by, upon reflection, Taeko’s reason for fearing commitment being tacky and shallow. The dub also decided to not translate a crucial song during one of the flashbacks into English, instead having Alison Fernandez sing it in Japanese. I understand that translating lyrics is difficult, especially since they’re more context sensitive than lines of dialogue, but the full point is lost when I can’t make out what she’s singing. I get the gist, Taeko’s rationalizing to herself that she’s a star in the making, but that extra push would’ve been clearer with an English track.
All of this leads to the pink elephant in the room, one that’s been echoed by critics who’ve praised the film: is Only Yesterday feminist-friendly? I guess. I’m not the biggest fan of saying that “women don’t need men/kids in their lives to be empowered”, since many feminists have both, but this film definitely tackles and deconstructs the “women as baby-makers” stereotype that’s still perpetuating today. And it was doing this as early as 1991, around the same time Disney movies were starting to understand that women aren’t only domestic servants! So it’s definitely progressive in that sense.
And yet, like I said earlier, she still ends up with Toshio. It’s as if the movie feels as though a woman can be independent, yet requires a man in her life at some point. Perhaps it’s Japan’s conservative values coming into play and clashing with what’s been built up prior, but…oh, so close! I really think the movie should’ve ended with Taeko appreciating that she doesn’t need a significant other, although I guess it’s too late for that. It’s disappointing.
Should you go see Only Yesterday? Yes, although you might be bored at some points during it. Regardless, Pixar and Disney might have the market share here in terms of box office, but Studio Ghibli has the better track-record of quality overall. And Only Yesterday maintains that, making Tales from Earthsea the sole blunder in the studio’s library. It’s not my favourite of Takahata’s works, or my favourite from Studio Ghibli, but it’s definitely interesting in its own right. I can’t fault it for that.
I’d like to state upfront that this won’t be a re-review. Aside from that being redundant, my overall thoughts haven’t changed all that drastically. Save a few details here and there, it remains the most 7/10 film in the history of 7/10 films to ever 7/10. Instead, I’d like to discuss my experience the second time around, as well as any side-point I want to make about the movie. So if you were expecting me to pretend that my original piece was suddenly irrelevant, well…you’ll be disappointed.
Anyway, the first point I’d like to make is one I’ve brought up before, both in its self-contained story and the general context of Isao Takahata’s oeuvre: Only Yesterday is too long. I understand that Takahata thrives on atmosphere, perhaps even more than Hayao Miyazaki, and that anime films rely on slow-burn storytelling, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t draggy. The movie already started to drain on me before Taeko had gotten to the countryside to visit her family, and that’s not even a half-hour in. Additionally, my friend, who’s been joining me in seeing Studio Ghibli films in theatres since The Secret World of Arrietty debuted in the West in 2012, actually drifted off at a few points. It didn’t help that I was constantly antsy, leading to my phone dropping out of my pocket at one point, because of the slow-pace.
For those about to say what I think you’re gonna say, yes, I can sit through a slow-paced film. I love the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and Schindler’s List is my fifth-favourite film of all-time. I respect a great deal of slow-burns and arthouse movies, including the slice-of-life genre. But that’s because they make better use of their runtimes. Only Yesterday constantly strains my patience, as do most Takahata films, such that I think a good 20 or so minutes could’ve been shaved off and it’d have been fine. I’m not exactly sure where I’d shave said minutes, but I stand by my claim.
The other point I’d like to address is the dub. Studio Ghibli dubs, let-alone dubs in general, generate a lot of controversy for not stacking up to the Japanese. Aside from this claim being case-by-case, this film has received criticism from Anime News Network for not capturing the essence of the original language track:
“Takahata's original voice direction had some very subtle, nuanced touches: 1966 sounds far more like 'normal anime,' with its heightened reality and bold emotions, than 1982 does. If you look away from the screen, conversations between adult Taeko and Toshio, and indeed everybody from those segments, sound indistinguishable from a well-made live action drama. It's an extremely naturalistic sound that heightens the contrast between the two eras and allows a lot of the nuance in the characters to take root. The film cannot bloom fully without such delicate performances.
And while the dub has some fine work -- a telephone call between Taeko and her older sister earlier in the film stands out as particularly well done -- most of the nuance simply didn't make it through unscathed.”

And secondly, Only Yesterday’s dub is completely serviceable, perhaps even one of the best of Studio Ghibli. Is Dev Patel’s English accent the only negative? Absolutely, and I fail to understand why he couldn't throw it like Daisy Ridley did if he was able to do so in The Last Airbender. But I adjusted quickly. Not to mention, criticizing it for not matching the original completely ignores the lengths gone to ensure that many talented VAs and child actors voiced the side-characters. You rarely see much of the latter in high-profile dubs as is due to time and budget restrains, so it’s really short-sighted. This isn’t Grave of the Fireflies, where both dubs were hampered by a lack of appreciation or understanding of the source material, after all.
This is especially important because the dub resonated more with me than the subtitles did. For one, it’s a language I speak fluently, allowing for a better connection to the characters. And two, I understood most of the jokes and serious moments better. This was especially apparent in the scenes where Taeko’s family ate an underripe pineapple, the student assembly in Taeko’s school, when Taeko got slapped by her father for running out the front door in her socks and the argument over Taeko’s bad math grades. This doesn’t even include the scenes involving adult Taeko on the farm.
The one area that stood out most, perhaps, was when Taeko was selected to join a private theatre troupe because of her performance in her school play. In the subtitled version, Taeko made mention that she later discovered that it was a one-off, and that she wasn’t close to being as dramatically inclined as she’d thought. I didn’t get that because I don’t speak Japanese, so it was lost on me. In the dub, however, it made more sense once I realized that Taeko was performing about as poorly as your standard 10 year-old in a school play. As someone who used to perform in middle school and loved drama in high school, that hit home.
Honestly, a lot of aspects of Only Yesterday hit home with me on a personal level, perhaps more so the second time. Taeko’s insecurities about commitment especially struck a chord with me, especially given my own bad experiences. And given how I’m almost the same age as her, I'm turning 26 this July, and have felt the same, subtle pressure for marriage as her via friends and family, it stung when she was asked to marry Toshio in the third-act by her hosts.
I also related to young Taeko’s struggles far more than I initially thought. I also identified with Yaeko to an extent, being a middle child myself, but it was Taeko whom I really understood because her struggles mirrored some of mine: being a picky eater? Check. Constantly demanding attention? Check. Struggling in math and thinking she’s an idiot because of it? Are you sure you’re not reading my mind?
The movie also captures that sense of childlike wonder with Taeko’s past that speaks to me as a writer and creative mind. At first, I didn’t get it, thinking that it clashed with the harsher realities of the present. It wasn’t until I watched Chris Stuckmann’s review, where he drew the analogy to memories being romanticized, that I thought it over. It made that much more sense the second-time around with that knowledge in mind. I still think the vignettes occasionally lack context in the present setting, but at least now I understand them.
That having been said, a lot of the issues from my initial viewing remained the same. Ignoring the vignettes clashing with the present, the movie was too long, the ad for Puma shoes was distracting and the romance at the end was forced, a fact made worse by, upon reflection, Taeko’s reason for fearing commitment being tacky and shallow. The dub also decided to not translate a crucial song during one of the flashbacks into English, instead having Alison Fernandez sing it in Japanese. I understand that translating lyrics is difficult, especially since they’re more context sensitive than lines of dialogue, but the full point is lost when I can’t make out what she’s singing. I get the gist, Taeko’s rationalizing to herself that she’s a star in the making, but that extra push would’ve been clearer with an English track.
All of this leads to the pink elephant in the room, one that’s been echoed by critics who’ve praised the film: is Only Yesterday feminist-friendly? I guess. I’m not the biggest fan of saying that “women don’t need men/kids in their lives to be empowered”, since many feminists have both, but this film definitely tackles and deconstructs the “women as baby-makers” stereotype that’s still perpetuating today. And it was doing this as early as 1991, around the same time Disney movies were starting to understand that women aren’t only domestic servants! So it’s definitely progressive in that sense.
And yet, like I said earlier, she still ends up with Toshio. It’s as if the movie feels as though a woman can be independent, yet requires a man in her life at some point. Perhaps it’s Japan’s conservative values coming into play and clashing with what’s been built up prior, but…oh, so close! I really think the movie should’ve ended with Taeko appreciating that she doesn’t need a significant other, although I guess it’s too late for that. It’s disappointing.
Should you go see Only Yesterday? Yes, although you might be bored at some points during it. Regardless, Pixar and Disney might have the market share here in terms of box office, but Studio Ghibli has the better track-record of quality overall. And Only Yesterday maintains that, making Tales from Earthsea the sole blunder in the studio’s library. It’s not my favourite of Takahata’s works, or my favourite from Studio Ghibli, but it’s definitely interesting in its own right. I can’t fault it for that.
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Pretty Girls Mahjong Solitaire (PC)
So, from time to time, I like going on Steam to find trash games I may buy and play one day fro shits and giggles. I bought one of those games on a whim recently for fifteen bucks and ...it wasn't bad. In fact, it's quite good. Said game is called Pretty Girls Mahjong Solitaire, a solo mahjong game that tried hooking in people with the promise of tits. Classy. And by that, I mean it's actually not that dirty. In fact, it's one of the better mahjong games I've played, despite the sleazy selling point.
There is no story to speak of, just five different girls with their own sets of stages. The first and last girls, Rin and Ayame, each have four sets of stages, while Risa, Kanon, and Erina all have three. Each stage has three parts to it, two regular rounds, and a final round where the girl in question is slowly changed into an alternate outfit as you play. So, it's not a strip game so much as a cosplay game, which is a neat idea I'd like to see more of. The game proper is normal mahjong solitaire. A bunch of tiles are laid out in a certain pattern, and you have to match tiles to get them to disappear.
Easy to learn, hard to master. On later stages, where the layouts get ridiculously massive, you have to take into account when you should clear certain pairs. Like any good version of solo mahjong, acting too quickly can screw you over into an unwinnable situation, so you have to try and figure out the best way to deconstruct so you're not stuck with needed tiles under tiles you can't clear. The added challenge here is that all rounds are timed with a bar that ticks down as you play, though clearing tiles can add more meter and give you more time to work. Take too long, and you lose. Go to fast, and you may make a mistake. You have to find a good balance.
This particular game has one hell of a difficulty wall. The first two sets of stages are easy enough, but once you hit Kanon's final stages, things suddenly become complicated. By the time you're trying to finish Ayame's sets, you may have lost your mind. It took me over eleven hours to beat this game, and it's not particularly big. Most of that playtime was on Ayame's sets and Erina's final sets. They're large and expansive, and it's easy to screw yourself over, partly because of the randomized layouts. There are familiar patterns that pop up in easy round, particularly the game's habit of bunching of matching sets in some low parts of the layout that can easily be cleared once you find them, but it's not familiar enough to make it too easy. It takes a good chunk of time to finish these levels, so you need patience. All of this can be ridiculously addictive, as I discovered as I stayed up till about three in the morning the first night I played this, just trying to clear Ayame's first set. I normally hit the hay at ten at the latest. Yeah.
While you can get free apps on phones for these sorts of games (though with the disappearance of the Super Real series, not with the sexy girl motif without massive costs from micro-transactions), Pretty Girls Mahjong Solitaire definitely has much nicer presentation and a very friendly user interface. That counts for a lot and partly why it's so addictive. It's so easy to replay over and over because everything loads fast and plays quick, with some great music I'd seriously buy in a soundtrack, fun voice acting (and I'm pretty sure I've heard Ayame's VA from a Crimson Comics game), and nice looking backgrounds and character art. There are also little touches here and there, like the little monkey man who scrolls down as a transition for a girl's new outfit during final rounds of sets, and fireworks that go off in succession as you make moves in fast time.
It's surprising how much these little touches add to the game, not to mention how much personality thee aforementioned girls have from just the voice acting and art. The official selling pitch for the game goes further into who these girls are, but you can pick up on almost all of it from just how they're presented in game. It feels much more fleshed out than it should be, and that's hard to pull off, especially in a game as simplistic as this. And yes, if you're wondering, the alternate outfits for the girls are pretty great. My favorites are Erina's school swimsuit and Ayame's cheer-leading outfit. They're not particularly dirty of anything (outside the final outfit always being pretty revealing), they just match well with the personalities of the characters.
All in all, I find this to be a great game to just lose yourself in. For fifteen bucks, it's a solid purchase, especially if you like these sorts of games or want something simple that just sucks you in. Hopefully we get more Solitaire variants in this series, and with more sets. I had a good deal of fun, and I want more.
Also, Ayame is best girl.
There is no story to speak of, just five different girls with their own sets of stages. The first and last girls, Rin and Ayame, each have four sets of stages, while Risa, Kanon, and Erina all have three. Each stage has three parts to it, two regular rounds, and a final round where the girl in question is slowly changed into an alternate outfit as you play. So, it's not a strip game so much as a cosplay game, which is a neat idea I'd like to see more of. The game proper is normal mahjong solitaire. A bunch of tiles are laid out in a certain pattern, and you have to match tiles to get them to disappear.
Easy to learn, hard to master. On later stages, where the layouts get ridiculously massive, you have to take into account when you should clear certain pairs. Like any good version of solo mahjong, acting too quickly can screw you over into an unwinnable situation, so you have to try and figure out the best way to deconstruct so you're not stuck with needed tiles under tiles you can't clear. The added challenge here is that all rounds are timed with a bar that ticks down as you play, though clearing tiles can add more meter and give you more time to work. Take too long, and you lose. Go to fast, and you may make a mistake. You have to find a good balance.
This particular game has one hell of a difficulty wall. The first two sets of stages are easy enough, but once you hit Kanon's final stages, things suddenly become complicated. By the time you're trying to finish Ayame's sets, you may have lost your mind. It took me over eleven hours to beat this game, and it's not particularly big. Most of that playtime was on Ayame's sets and Erina's final sets. They're large and expansive, and it's easy to screw yourself over, partly because of the randomized layouts. There are familiar patterns that pop up in easy round, particularly the game's habit of bunching of matching sets in some low parts of the layout that can easily be cleared once you find them, but it's not familiar enough to make it too easy. It takes a good chunk of time to finish these levels, so you need patience. All of this can be ridiculously addictive, as I discovered as I stayed up till about three in the morning the first night I played this, just trying to clear Ayame's first set. I normally hit the hay at ten at the latest. Yeah.
While you can get free apps on phones for these sorts of games (though with the disappearance of the Super Real series, not with the sexy girl motif without massive costs from micro-transactions), Pretty Girls Mahjong Solitaire definitely has much nicer presentation and a very friendly user interface. That counts for a lot and partly why it's so addictive. It's so easy to replay over and over because everything loads fast and plays quick, with some great music I'd seriously buy in a soundtrack, fun voice acting (and I'm pretty sure I've heard Ayame's VA from a Crimson Comics game), and nice looking backgrounds and character art. There are also little touches here and there, like the little monkey man who scrolls down as a transition for a girl's new outfit during final rounds of sets, and fireworks that go off in succession as you make moves in fast time.
It's surprising how much these little touches add to the game, not to mention how much personality thee aforementioned girls have from just the voice acting and art. The official selling pitch for the game goes further into who these girls are, but you can pick up on almost all of it from just how they're presented in game. It feels much more fleshed out than it should be, and that's hard to pull off, especially in a game as simplistic as this. And yes, if you're wondering, the alternate outfits for the girls are pretty great. My favorites are Erina's school swimsuit and Ayame's cheer-leading outfit. They're not particularly dirty of anything (outside the final outfit always being pretty revealing), they just match well with the personalities of the characters.
All in all, I find this to be a great game to just lose yourself in. For fifteen bucks, it's a solid purchase, especially if you like these sorts of games or want something simple that just sucks you in. Hopefully we get more Solitaire variants in this series, and with more sets. I had a good deal of fun, and I want more.
Also, Ayame is best girl.
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East Apps: Otokonoko Games Pt.1
Welcome to a new series on Infinite Rainy Day called East Apps, a look at all the weird Asian and anime inspired apps that litter our phones. You'd be amazed at the weird shit you can find on these things, like today's topics, Inline Planning's “育成!男の娘~やめて!ボク男だよ~” and “育成!男の娘~男の女優 葵編~,” which are roughly translated to (and I took a good while trying to get good translated titles put together here) “Training! Stop Otokonoko! You're No Man” and “Training! Otokonoko Actress Aoihen.” Forgive if I'm not quite on the mark, getting to this point took hours.
If you don't know, a “Otokonoko” is a Japanese term born mainly from otaku circles that roughly translates to “Male Daughter.” In other words, crossdressing. In particular, it refers to a type of genre focused on male characters dressed as women, usually in male targeted spaces and porn because would you expect anything else from otaku? These particular games, though, seem more targeted for a female demographic, though, and while it's not hard to imagine what the focus and intent of the creators were, I think they may have accidentally made two games that have transition subtext.
Please stay with me here, because I am about to explain a lot about queer and trans cultures, how sexuality relates to fetishism, and the divided stance on crossdressing in queer circles.
Yes, all of this from two free apps I found about cute anime boys wearing dresses.
I hate to link to Kotaku for many valid reasons, but one of their staff did a good write-up that explains the Otokonoko subculture that's now starting to appear in more mainstream media. To put it as simply as I can, it's a movement that chooses to appeal to otaku culture over more mainstream popular culture via cosplay and ideas of beauty from anime and manga, born partly from a culture norm in such places as kabuki theater where female characters were played by men and never transitioned out of that (unlike western plays). Also, Otokonoko want to be mistaken or seen as female and not a man wearing women's clothing, yet sexuality and gender identity are not particularly important to being an Otokonoko.
There's a lot of debate over subcultures like this, and crossdressing in general, among trans circles. There's good reason, too. The most common argument is that crossdressing can be dehumanizing, and considering what otaku have done with it in fetishizing it, there's a strong foundation in that argument. It's also used as a stereotype for straight and cis (people who identify as their assigned gender) to laugh at in comedies, making queer and trans people the other. As a bisexual man myself, I have to deal with ignorance and denial, while crossdressers have to worry about genuine violence.
At the same time, crossdressing as history in queer culture for a reason. I talked with a good friend of mine about this (whom asked to remain anonymous here), and they explained that crossdressing is a way for queer people to explore gender fluidity, whether they're aware of their true queer nature or not, and to challenge the common gender binary belief when it's portrayed in a way besides a punchline for cis audiences. Said friend is bigender, and they spoke of their own experiences explaining this. It helps people figure out their own true gender identity at times, and many Otokonoko may be bigender, gender fluid, or even trans, or they may just be bi or gay individuals exploring themselves. The fact we're seeing more Otokonoko characters treated as more than punchlines is a step in the right direction, but the culture not being strictly queer is where it creates debate.
These games are about Otokonoko, so background is necessary. But you also need to know about training games as well, because we're reaching into weird Japanese gaming subgenres with these. Training games are a type of app game similar to clicker games, except they're not necessarily designed to be as addictive, or at least in the same way. Training games base themselves after the pace of actual training. You do a little every once in awhile and make progress, and systems in place here limit your actions to simulate losing stamina. You have a limited amount of moves every time you play, and they replenish with time. These games condition the player to come back every once in awhile to try and unlock the next thing, making the process to getting that thing longer each time and occasionally offering ways of faster progress. It's kind of insidious, but the effect can be lost if the player gets too bored due to a lack of satisfying reward.
These games rewarded me with cute anime boys in dresses, and that sadly worked on me.
The actual mechanics are dirt simple. The future Otokonoko is on the screen with a bunch of people around them (maids in the rich kid's game, make-up artists in the actor's). You touch the other people, and they speed right at the main character, a dust cloud animation plays to stimulate activity as the character reacts a little, and you gain points. In these games, you get three points in the bar every press. When the bar is filled, the main character changes into a more feminine form, and the process repeats. Each game has three different endings, and you just select one to go for after the second to last segment is done. Said replay is less frustrating because your press power is raised to five, which adds up really fast.
Up to ten people can be on screen with the main character at a time, and they appear every few seconds (about fifteen to thirty, I think), so you can't just simply spam tap like you can in a clicker. Sometimes, though, the game offers you a refresh of characters if you share on Twitter ...but Inline's games are buggy enough that you can go to the tweet screen on a button press and then back out without ever sending the tweet, and then you get the bonus anyways. There are ads, but they almost never worked on my phone, which is not a problem I've had with other Japanese titles I've downloaded recently.
Like most training games, there is a narrative here. Despite the games being untranslated, it's not hard to figure out what's going on. In the first game, the maids find the young master of the manor cute and decide to raise him as they want him to be, that being a cute her. The kid is pressured along into it, realizes he likes it being a she instead, has a last minute rebellion to try and cling to his masculinity, but the animations he gives whenever a maid starts making him over suggests he really identifies as a woman and then makes a full transition to being a Otokonoko, with the three endings having her pick one of three identities.
The second game is very much the same, but has a significantly older character from start who grows from struggling young actor into a popular Otokonoko actor. Said character is much more a cool archetype, so his women roles reflect this. He's forced into this by his agency, taught by the staff to walk in high heels and dress, how to show a different type of confident expression through soft smiles, and even has a subplot where he falls in love with another man. By the end, she has accepted being a she and may have won over the other actor during a wedding scene, then selects one of three personas from there.
The intent with these games seems to target female players over male, especially the second game. The color pallet and style has a lot of familiar shojo elements, the characters lack any sort of sexy elements to their personality or design, and the narrative is mostly about them finding fulfillment by presenting as another gender and not becoming a sexual object. Plus, the second game is really queer no matter how you read the main character's gender identity. But like Otokonoko culture, these games aren't inherently queer by intent, but they somehow become that in how they read.
The rich kid's last minute attempt to reject his new acceptance of femininity is a similar reaction many newly identifying transwomen have, conditioned by the larger culture to be something and thrive to be that by all means. As a result, it takes awhile for many to truly accept who they know they are because society rejects it. Otokonoko, however, is growing in acceptance, so it's an interesting situation where the same stigmas aren't as strong as usual. In the end, the kid chooses to be true to himself and finds joy in it.
In the actor's story, the conflict comes from enjoying being seen as a beautiful woman by others, and growing feelings for a man. Needless to say, both aren't exactly looked highly upon in masculine cultures these days. The kid's story is all about how she feels in the end, but the actor takes how people perceive her as how she perceives herself. In the end, like with the kid, she chooses to be true to her feelings, accepts her sexuality, and fully gets behind being a woman unlike her originally gruff, cool guy persona. This more mirrors how Otokonoko see themselves, as those who want others to see them as beautiful women. Unlike drag queens, Otokonoko cast away masculinity entirely, finding something comforting or right in femininity.
Their respective endings also have some thematic importance as they weigh down what their identity is.
The rich kid can choose from a shrine priestess, a catgirl maid, and an idol. She takes her identity more from traditional Otokonoko background, the interests of otaku, but all three identities have different meaning. The priestess is a more traditionally reserved and kind-hearted archetype, the catgirl maid is a playful servant, and the idol is the most outgoing and independent of the three. The first two are accepting feminine roles as taught as proper by the maids, but the idol persona is more of a channeling of her independent nature with more traditionally feminine means of expression, trading outbursts for performance and glee.
The actor, on the other hand, makes a main role out of either a Japanese princess, a opera singer, or a lady knight. All her personas are more mature and refined, especially compared to earlier roles like nurse and policewoman, and are built on confidence. They also all have a different sort of confidence. The princess is a persona of status and purity, leaving no doubts in the actor's mind about her feelings of love and identity. The opera singer is joyous and takes pride in her art and expression, mirroring the actor most closely. As for the knight, this persona is one of strength and grace, able to do anything despite the challenge. The knight is someone others can look up to, mainly because of confidence and ability. It's a far cry from the whiny pretty boy the actor started as.
The intent was obviously to give girls something to squeal about, but the narratives here come off as stories of transwomen accepting themselves and owning that identity they want, in the most idealized way possible. Kind of weird how that happened. Otokonoko culture, when not being a means of wank fantasy for otaku, is on the verge of being a queer subculture completely. It just depends on how many of these people start identifying as the gender they choose to try and mimic so closely.
Holy hell, this went on for 2000 words. Well, next article is going to be longer, because we're going to loo at the other two games Inline made about Otokonoko, and things are going to get much, much more ...otakuy.
If you don't know, a “Otokonoko” is a Japanese term born mainly from otaku circles that roughly translates to “Male Daughter.” In other words, crossdressing. In particular, it refers to a type of genre focused on male characters dressed as women, usually in male targeted spaces and porn because would you expect anything else from otaku? These particular games, though, seem more targeted for a female demographic, though, and while it's not hard to imagine what the focus and intent of the creators were, I think they may have accidentally made two games that have transition subtext.
Please stay with me here, because I am about to explain a lot about queer and trans cultures, how sexuality relates to fetishism, and the divided stance on crossdressing in queer circles.
Yes, all of this from two free apps I found about cute anime boys wearing dresses.
I hate to link to Kotaku for many valid reasons, but one of their staff did a good write-up that explains the Otokonoko subculture that's now starting to appear in more mainstream media. To put it as simply as I can, it's a movement that chooses to appeal to otaku culture over more mainstream popular culture via cosplay and ideas of beauty from anime and manga, born partly from a culture norm in such places as kabuki theater where female characters were played by men and never transitioned out of that (unlike western plays). Also, Otokonoko want to be mistaken or seen as female and not a man wearing women's clothing, yet sexuality and gender identity are not particularly important to being an Otokonoko.
There's a lot of debate over subcultures like this, and crossdressing in general, among trans circles. There's good reason, too. The most common argument is that crossdressing can be dehumanizing, and considering what otaku have done with it in fetishizing it, there's a strong foundation in that argument. It's also used as a stereotype for straight and cis (people who identify as their assigned gender) to laugh at in comedies, making queer and trans people the other. As a bisexual man myself, I have to deal with ignorance and denial, while crossdressers have to worry about genuine violence.
At the same time, crossdressing as history in queer culture for a reason. I talked with a good friend of mine about this (whom asked to remain anonymous here), and they explained that crossdressing is a way for queer people to explore gender fluidity, whether they're aware of their true queer nature or not, and to challenge the common gender binary belief when it's portrayed in a way besides a punchline for cis audiences. Said friend is bigender, and they spoke of their own experiences explaining this. It helps people figure out their own true gender identity at times, and many Otokonoko may be bigender, gender fluid, or even trans, or they may just be bi or gay individuals exploring themselves. The fact we're seeing more Otokonoko characters treated as more than punchlines is a step in the right direction, but the culture not being strictly queer is where it creates debate.
These games are about Otokonoko, so background is necessary. But you also need to know about training games as well, because we're reaching into weird Japanese gaming subgenres with these. Training games are a type of app game similar to clicker games, except they're not necessarily designed to be as addictive, or at least in the same way. Training games base themselves after the pace of actual training. You do a little every once in awhile and make progress, and systems in place here limit your actions to simulate losing stamina. You have a limited amount of moves every time you play, and they replenish with time. These games condition the player to come back every once in awhile to try and unlock the next thing, making the process to getting that thing longer each time and occasionally offering ways of faster progress. It's kind of insidious, but the effect can be lost if the player gets too bored due to a lack of satisfying reward.
These games rewarded me with cute anime boys in dresses, and that sadly worked on me.
The actual mechanics are dirt simple. The future Otokonoko is on the screen with a bunch of people around them (maids in the rich kid's game, make-up artists in the actor's). You touch the other people, and they speed right at the main character, a dust cloud animation plays to stimulate activity as the character reacts a little, and you gain points. In these games, you get three points in the bar every press. When the bar is filled, the main character changes into a more feminine form, and the process repeats. Each game has three different endings, and you just select one to go for after the second to last segment is done. Said replay is less frustrating because your press power is raised to five, which adds up really fast.
Up to ten people can be on screen with the main character at a time, and they appear every few seconds (about fifteen to thirty, I think), so you can't just simply spam tap like you can in a clicker. Sometimes, though, the game offers you a refresh of characters if you share on Twitter ...but Inline's games are buggy enough that you can go to the tweet screen on a button press and then back out without ever sending the tweet, and then you get the bonus anyways. There are ads, but they almost never worked on my phone, which is not a problem I've had with other Japanese titles I've downloaded recently.
Like most training games, there is a narrative here. Despite the games being untranslated, it's not hard to figure out what's going on. In the first game, the maids find the young master of the manor cute and decide to raise him as they want him to be, that being a cute her. The kid is pressured along into it, realizes he likes it being a she instead, has a last minute rebellion to try and cling to his masculinity, but the animations he gives whenever a maid starts making him over suggests he really identifies as a woman and then makes a full transition to being a Otokonoko, with the three endings having her pick one of three identities.
The second game is very much the same, but has a significantly older character from start who grows from struggling young actor into a popular Otokonoko actor. Said character is much more a cool archetype, so his women roles reflect this. He's forced into this by his agency, taught by the staff to walk in high heels and dress, how to show a different type of confident expression through soft smiles, and even has a subplot where he falls in love with another man. By the end, she has accepted being a she and may have won over the other actor during a wedding scene, then selects one of three personas from there.
The intent with these games seems to target female players over male, especially the second game. The color pallet and style has a lot of familiar shojo elements, the characters lack any sort of sexy elements to their personality or design, and the narrative is mostly about them finding fulfillment by presenting as another gender and not becoming a sexual object. Plus, the second game is really queer no matter how you read the main character's gender identity. But like Otokonoko culture, these games aren't inherently queer by intent, but they somehow become that in how they read.
The rich kid's last minute attempt to reject his new acceptance of femininity is a similar reaction many newly identifying transwomen have, conditioned by the larger culture to be something and thrive to be that by all means. As a result, it takes awhile for many to truly accept who they know they are because society rejects it. Otokonoko, however, is growing in acceptance, so it's an interesting situation where the same stigmas aren't as strong as usual. In the end, the kid chooses to be true to himself and finds joy in it.
In the actor's story, the conflict comes from enjoying being seen as a beautiful woman by others, and growing feelings for a man. Needless to say, both aren't exactly looked highly upon in masculine cultures these days. The kid's story is all about how she feels in the end, but the actor takes how people perceive her as how she perceives herself. In the end, like with the kid, she chooses to be true to her feelings, accepts her sexuality, and fully gets behind being a woman unlike her originally gruff, cool guy persona. This more mirrors how Otokonoko see themselves, as those who want others to see them as beautiful women. Unlike drag queens, Otokonoko cast away masculinity entirely, finding something comforting or right in femininity.
Their respective endings also have some thematic importance as they weigh down what their identity is.
The rich kid can choose from a shrine priestess, a catgirl maid, and an idol. She takes her identity more from traditional Otokonoko background, the interests of otaku, but all three identities have different meaning. The priestess is a more traditionally reserved and kind-hearted archetype, the catgirl maid is a playful servant, and the idol is the most outgoing and independent of the three. The first two are accepting feminine roles as taught as proper by the maids, but the idol persona is more of a channeling of her independent nature with more traditionally feminine means of expression, trading outbursts for performance and glee.
The actor, on the other hand, makes a main role out of either a Japanese princess, a opera singer, or a lady knight. All her personas are more mature and refined, especially compared to earlier roles like nurse and policewoman, and are built on confidence. They also all have a different sort of confidence. The princess is a persona of status and purity, leaving no doubts in the actor's mind about her feelings of love and identity. The opera singer is joyous and takes pride in her art and expression, mirroring the actor most closely. As for the knight, this persona is one of strength and grace, able to do anything despite the challenge. The knight is someone others can look up to, mainly because of confidence and ability. It's a far cry from the whiny pretty boy the actor started as.
The intent was obviously to give girls something to squeal about, but the narratives here come off as stories of transwomen accepting themselves and owning that identity they want, in the most idealized way possible. Kind of weird how that happened. Otokonoko culture, when not being a means of wank fantasy for otaku, is on the verge of being a queer subculture completely. It just depends on how many of these people start identifying as the gender they choose to try and mimic so closely.
Holy hell, this went on for 2000 words. Well, next article is going to be longer, because we're going to loo at the other two games Inline made about Otokonoko, and things are going to get much, much more ...otakuy.
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Heavy Storms 012: Princess Arete
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Captain Levi "Post-Mortem" Ackerman: Attack on Titan and the Disaffected Hero Trope
WARNING: The following contains spoilers about Attack on Titan. Please read at your own risk.
I hate Levi Ackerman.
I didn’t always. Back when Attack on Titan was airing its first season in dub form on Toonami/FUNimation’s website, he was merely my least-favourite character. Sure, the other characters in-world were frequently screaming and running from giant monsters, but I’d act no differently in their position. Plus, they were rich with personality. They had real flaws, even when they were super-talented at defeating Titans (see Mikasa Ackerman.) But Levi? Levi was a stone-cold warrior so drone-like that he came off as boring.
However, as I began to think over what Levi represented, he started to grate on me. He was so good at what he did, so in the right constantly, that he felt like a male Mary Sue. A Gary Stu, to be more exact, except without the likability factor. I think the pinnacle of how much I hate Levi occurs with the first battle with The Female Titan, aka Annie Leonhardt, during the expedition to Eren Jaeger’s father’s cellar. As scouts were wiped out left and right, with the elites eventually being forced to take her on directly, Levi never once lost his composure. He never once showed signs of weakness, he never once questioned his own leadership, he simply led like he was prepping for this since day one.
And then the elite scouts were picked off one-by-one like flies, including Levi’s betrothed, by Annie, and what did Levi do? Zoom by their corpses as if nothing had happened in an attempt to save Mikasa and rescue Eren from Annie’s mouth. Not even a slight glimpse at his comrades’ bodies, not even a tear over the loss of Petra Rall and his chance at settling down, nothing. Not even his eventual sprained ankle warranted much of a reaction. It was the biggest middle-finger to a human response ever, and I hate it with a passion.
Levi’s quirk is one the internet loves, despite it not being natural. He’s basically a “disenfranchised badass”, a character who responds to chaos and despair by shrugging it off. It’s usually complimented by routinely snarky comments, much like a quipper who never knows how to shut up and be human. It’s one of the many complaints people lob against the MCU with its heroes, but even then they’re not emotionless bricks. Besides, Iron Man, Captain America and company have compelling reasons for being the way they are, many of which are shown via flashbacks or solo movies in-continuity.
I’ve heard defence of Levi’s behaviour as being a conditioned response to the harshness of battle, but even that doesn’t excuse his lack of emotion. A soldier so heavily battered by war would be scarred mentally, even if they don’t openly show it. You’d see it in their behaviour on and off the battlefield, and it’d eventually surface when the stakes are down. Levi hasn’t shown any hints of that either. As with everything, he even takes his pain in stride like it means nothing.
It’s also true that Levi’s compassionate, yes, and cares deeply about his fellow soldier, but even then he’s so stoic and brave (read “emotionless”) that it comes off as forced. Because there’s nothing natural or emotional about him, right down to his dub portrayal by Matthew Mercer. I know the internet happens to love this about Levi, but c’mon. Captain America, the literal paragon of righteousness, shows compassion too, yet he never lets go of his humanity. He gets mad, he has regrets, and he doesn’t always make the best decisions. He still feels human, so I’m willing to forgive his extreme righteousness.
So yeah, not a fan of Captain Levi Ackerman, and the only option at this point would be to kill-
-Well, shoot my mouth! It might actually happen! According to an article entry from The Latin Times, there’s a rumour that Levi might be killed off in Season 2 of Attack on Titan. It’s from August 24th, 2015, meaning it’s dated, and it’s not official, but I’d be more than happy if it happened. Because, as I’ve clearly outlined, I hate Levi. Besides, the show’s no stranger to killing off interesting characters. It wiped out Levi’s elite team in a single episode, and I loved all of them, so why not up the ante and kill off everyone’s favourite walking brick? Besides, it might actually force them to like a character with depth, like, I dunno, Eren?
Okay, that was a little mean on my part. But still, I would be more than game to see Levi die in Season 2 of Attack on Titan. My only hope is that Production I.G. and Studio Wit release said season this year. Seriously, the show recently snagged another delay! How many more can we have?! At this rate, it'll take forever to see what happens next!
I hate Levi Ackerman.
I didn’t always. Back when Attack on Titan was airing its first season in dub form on Toonami/FUNimation’s website, he was merely my least-favourite character. Sure, the other characters in-world were frequently screaming and running from giant monsters, but I’d act no differently in their position. Plus, they were rich with personality. They had real flaws, even when they were super-talented at defeating Titans (see Mikasa Ackerman.) But Levi? Levi was a stone-cold warrior so drone-like that he came off as boring.
However, as I began to think over what Levi represented, he started to grate on me. He was so good at what he did, so in the right constantly, that he felt like a male Mary Sue. A Gary Stu, to be more exact, except without the likability factor. I think the pinnacle of how much I hate Levi occurs with the first battle with The Female Titan, aka Annie Leonhardt, during the expedition to Eren Jaeger’s father’s cellar. As scouts were wiped out left and right, with the elites eventually being forced to take her on directly, Levi never once lost his composure. He never once showed signs of weakness, he never once questioned his own leadership, he simply led like he was prepping for this since day one.
And then the elite scouts were picked off one-by-one like flies, including Levi’s betrothed, by Annie, and what did Levi do? Zoom by their corpses as if nothing had happened in an attempt to save Mikasa and rescue Eren from Annie’s mouth. Not even a slight glimpse at his comrades’ bodies, not even a tear over the loss of Petra Rall and his chance at settling down, nothing. Not even his eventual sprained ankle warranted much of a reaction. It was the biggest middle-finger to a human response ever, and I hate it with a passion.
Levi’s quirk is one the internet loves, despite it not being natural. He’s basically a “disenfranchised badass”, a character who responds to chaos and despair by shrugging it off. It’s usually complimented by routinely snarky comments, much like a quipper who never knows how to shut up and be human. It’s one of the many complaints people lob against the MCU with its heroes, but even then they’re not emotionless bricks. Besides, Iron Man, Captain America and company have compelling reasons for being the way they are, many of which are shown via flashbacks or solo movies in-continuity.
I’ve heard defence of Levi’s behaviour as being a conditioned response to the harshness of battle, but even that doesn’t excuse his lack of emotion. A soldier so heavily battered by war would be scarred mentally, even if they don’t openly show it. You’d see it in their behaviour on and off the battlefield, and it’d eventually surface when the stakes are down. Levi hasn’t shown any hints of that either. As with everything, he even takes his pain in stride like it means nothing.
It’s also true that Levi’s compassionate, yes, and cares deeply about his fellow soldier, but even then he’s so stoic and brave (read “emotionless”) that it comes off as forced. Because there’s nothing natural or emotional about him, right down to his dub portrayal by Matthew Mercer. I know the internet happens to love this about Levi, but c’mon. Captain America, the literal paragon of righteousness, shows compassion too, yet he never lets go of his humanity. He gets mad, he has regrets, and he doesn’t always make the best decisions. He still feels human, so I’m willing to forgive his extreme righteousness.
So yeah, not a fan of Captain Levi Ackerman, and the only option at this point would be to kill-
-Well, shoot my mouth! It might actually happen! According to an article entry from The Latin Times, there’s a rumour that Levi might be killed off in Season 2 of Attack on Titan. It’s from August 24th, 2015, meaning it’s dated, and it’s not official, but I’d be more than happy if it happened. Because, as I’ve clearly outlined, I hate Levi. Besides, the show’s no stranger to killing off interesting characters. It wiped out Levi’s elite team in a single episode, and I loved all of them, so why not up the ante and kill off everyone’s favourite walking brick? Besides, it might actually force them to like a character with depth, like, I dunno, Eren?
Okay, that was a little mean on my part. But still, I would be more than game to see Levi die in Season 2 of Attack on Titan. My only hope is that Production I.G. and Studio Wit release said season this year. Seriously, the show recently snagged another delay! How many more can we have?! At this rate, it'll take forever to see what happens next!
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Fafner Exodus
Fafner Exodus is in the same awkward position Xenosaga Episode III was when I encountered it about a decade ago. Here's something that is far more skillfully executed than its predecessors, shows the creators at the top of their game, but you also have to trudge through two sort of okay volumes before getting to the main event as they are required for your enjoyment. Not that the original Fafner was bad. It had the unique angles of Fafner pilots slowly becoming the enemy the more they battled, and the parts that were about trying to live day-to-day after most of humanity has been destroyed were a nice change of pace even if aspects liked the televised entertainment portion were ridiculously odd. Unfortunately, it found itself in the shadow of most post-Evangelion shows, hitting on similar floods of religious and mythical aesthetics mixed with angst, not to mention the soup of rather odd quasi tropes from the early 2000s (Referencing Shangri-La, the villains being a collective, and other things that believe or not, were almost fads for a couple years). Despite some of the best animation Xebec could muster and a beautiful score that brought in the London Philharmonic Orchestra, it failed to stand out and became one of the more obscure titles of the anime boom. RahXephon existed and it was doing everything better than this, so why bother? A movie showed up and immediately disappeared with similar issues despite an intriguing premise.
They must like it quite a bit more in Japan because it's about ten years later and the creators still have enough passion to get most of the band back together and produce a full-on sequel. The director Nobuyoshi Habara, the movie's chief director Takashi Noto, scriptwriter Tow Ubukata with has some name recognition these days (some unwanted), and many more from previous projects were brought in to show the world more Fafner. Similar to when Gonzo trotted out a follow-up to Last Exile only I asked for, it was released to little fanfare or hype over here. Unlike Fam the Silver Wing, however, Exodus is the title greatly eclipsing its counterpart with fantastic visuals, a world with a wealth of ideas allowed to grow, an ambitious story with a huge cast and massive battles, and some unexpected fun mixed in with the drama.
Where do we start with Fafner, and most importantly, where do we end? An alien force called the Festum have invaded Earth and killed most of the population. One island, Tatsumiyajima (Known as D Island for simplicity's sake), has managed to survive with a cloaking shield and advanced weaponry included the Fafners. The Fafners are mecha designed to be controlled by human thought with Festum technology. Unfortunately, since it IS enemy tech and the enemy is a collective with no individual thought, using the Fafners slowly causes them to be absorbed into the collective. After being discovered by the Festum and the Neo UN who want to plunder them for separate reasons, the island residents struggle to survive and are forced to use teenagers as their vanguard. I am skimming over a metric ton since going through it all would require a thesis. What you need to know is teenagers Kazuki and Soushi get run through the ringer as Fafner pilots as well as their friend Maya and former Human Army mercenary Kanon.
The initial threat is taken down in the first season, Soushi disappears, and in the follow-up movie, they find out while humans have been messing around with Festum technology, Festum have been messing around with what it's like to be human. A hybrid Festum in human form named Misao is discovered by Kazuki and claims he was sent by the missing Soushi. The rest of the movie is the island trying to protect the new finds from both the human army who want to annihilate every drop of Festum influence from the planet and the Festum want to delete the glitch of individuals that essentially disobey the voice of a very corporeal God.
That oh-so-briefly brings us up to speed to now. Soushi has returned, the island has a long stretch of peace, and everyone is settling in to figure out what a normal life is. I only wish Exodus started with updating these characters instead of beginning in media res on an attack in Hawaii where a truckload of new characters, most of whom won't be relevant for six episodes, are dumped on the audience with developments and phrases that will be important later rather than sooner (An entire platoon fighting the Festum almost gets devastated with a ROE Alpha command, and it doesn't hit dramatically because the audience doesn't know what ROE Alpha is). After eight minutes of this, we finally go to D Island, where we're introduced to the new main characters first. I would ask you kindly forgive Exodus' rudeness, as it does not seem to understand when you have an epic story with 30-40 significant characters, it's best to give the viewers some solid ground with the familiar first.
If it feels like I've been digging this series' grave, I'm really not. I just want to emphasize how it doesn't leave the best first impression. When the plot settles down, it at least gives a good 10 episodes to get oriented into where everyone stands before trying to juggle dozens of characters in 3 locations. The main characters, after surviving battles they weren't supposed to live through, are trying out this life thing. Most are sticking close to military duty with Maya piloting airplanes instead of Fafners, Canon trying to become a technition, and Soushi deep into research with how to reverse the adverse effects of Fafners on humans and trying to dispose of the exceptionally spooky Fafner Mk. Nicht (It absorbs every pilot's consciousness that has tried to use it and ghosts of those souls wanders the concrete coffin they put Nicht in. Creepy stuff). However, lead Kazuma is content with running a coffee shop, and it's strangely nice to see what happens when the main characters of mech shows driven by teenage angst grow up. Later on, there's even the treat of having Kazuma try to give a pep talk to the next generation of pilots when his generation of anime mech protagonists were simply thrown to the wolves in heaving sobs. It's a tiny detail, but an enjoyable one.
Of course, this wouldn't be a sequel if everyone lived in 26 episodes of peace. A detachment of the Human Army from the Hawaii group travels to D Island, and nothing brings more trouble to this franchise than, "We're from the Human Army and we'd appreciate your help." This band is more friendly than most as they revere Kazuma as a hero and approve of the island's stance of trying to find co-existence. But they still have a mission. Some children born in the world after the Festum have influenced it can communicate with the alien beings through their Mir, the Festum's conscious mind and decision maker. A new Mir is descending to Earth soon and their hope is to use the children called Esparanto to persuade the Mir into a peaceful relationship with humanity rather than immediately being enemies. Unfortunately, the Human Army also had a Festum Mir fragment follow them, and this Mir fragment has filled the missing parts of itself with such human emotions as hatred and vengeance.
The island has to send along veterans to join a group of D Island residents assisting the Human Army. With the new Festum threat, a new generation of pilots has to be trained very quickly, and they find their candidates among three youth who are subconsciously tempered into being Fafner pilots from early on. In one of the gray areas, the island uses propaganda tools like manga to pre-train their children and make them excited about the prospect. Evan as they use recruiting tools, the adults still understand the gravity of the situation with the message that they've been accepted into the Fafner program being treated more like the military delivering a note that their child has died in action. For awhile, the new recruits blow the doors open on the possibilities, bringing creative new approaches to fighting the Festum like using shields attached to their Fafners as jumping off points rather than, you know, shields.
Really, that's what this whole project feels like: A playground of new experiences built off a standard anime. The initial idea of Fafner-based off a Norse myth of a man who turns into a dragon as the price of stealing treasure-is the journey of forced evolution in order to survive. In the first series, the idea is mostly used as a method of manufacturing drama as these characters becoming something inhuman or fading into non-existence was the catalyst for easy grief. Exodus explores the potential of moving beyond being just human in all sorts of directions. It reminds me of the SNES game Illusion of Gaia in the idea that every meaningful step forward in evolution means we have to leave something behind that defines our existence. There is the sadness of leaving what's human behind, delivered as the new generation eventually learns the cost of their upgraded Fafners in far more relatable and terrifying than in previous iterations. On the other hand, Soushi and Kazuma release the full potential of their hybrid existence, eventually unlocking God mode on their Fafners and having the powers to restore and destroy only limited by their imagination. Xebec is usually very earthbound with their work, but on this one, they let go and the results can be pretty breathtaking at times. Perhaps the excitement of the later fights is taken down a couple notches because they can restore limbs, heal their friends, and send hundreds of Festum into oblivion at will, but there is a certain awe in how incredibly huge the scope of their abilities become.
The most obvious improvement comes in the visuals. This is one of the best looking anime series you will ever see. What it lacks in artistic bend, it makes up for in sheer craftsmanship and consistency. In wide shots of the island at sunset, every wave and crest in the ocean is visible and moving. Skies on cloudy days are incredibly layered with insane work on gradient and different cloud types. Futuristic 3-D computer readouts have depth you never really appreciate until bad series get it wrong. Half of the shots in this series are absolutely gorgeous with attention given to seemingly every crack in the street. The animation is generally fluid, even in gigantic battles involving thousands of participants. The best part is the episodes have generally the same quality of animation, hardly ever degrading. The character designs might be a little too similar to each other. The concept of D Island as a place that is one huge mostly non-related family might be taken too close to heart as there are a few characters who look exactly like each other and it sometimes can be hard to tell who's speaking if they're in a protective suit, which happens more than you'd think. It doesn't help the two female leads Maya and Kanon are both redheads and Kanon's hairstyle resembles much more of the general population this time around.
In the music department, it's hard to match what the original had with modern budgets. Half of the score is a straight rehash of original, a quarter mostly incidental noodlings, which leaves a small portion of new music which tries to match the sophistication of the first go 'round. It's a bit disappointing for a soundtrack nerd like myself to not have a double down of quality symphonic tunes, but for functionality purposes, it's a-OK. J-Pop duo angela also return to do all the credit music, and their openings are as properly rousing as their closings are properly melancholy. Over a decade later and they've certainly still got it.
A sticking point for many besides the prospect of following a direct sequel is Exodus is an exceptionally dense series. Not in the dumb kind of way, but from the sheer number of characters, story lines, technical jargon, locations, and so on. An advantage for most of you readers will be that you can marathon this thing, and it's best experienced by binge viewing. When I went out of my way to review this for seasonals last year, it was a bear to keep track of everything, especially when the two cours were released months apart. So much so, I had to re-watch much of the series just to write this separate review. Watching everything side-by-side made so many elements pop much more than a weekly serving. Not that everything is fixed with a simple change in viewing habit. Xebec's eyes are perhaps larger than their stomachs at times, putting awesome concepts that deserve proper time and effort into throwaway segments. In the second half, the topic of an underground city where humanity lived to escape the Festum is broached upon, but barely explored. The ending is also something that is a much better conclusion conceptually than emotionally.
What truly makes the difference is the growth in the relationships.. The franchise's core concept of the island as family is improved, giving a friendly repartee with genuinely touching comradery. The leads have more meaningful exchanges, especially the fujoshi-baiting friendship between Kazuma and Soushi. They're the most effeminate bros you will ever meet, but they make it work.The main characters growing up helps immensely. In shows involving teenagers forced to fight for the future of humanity, most of the characters handle matters by being reactionary to the boatload of dramatic missiles launched at them. Exodus' people have grown up a bit, taking responsibility for their own actions and making decisions without being forced into it. As a show built on making difficult choices, it's more meaningful when the choices are made willingly. The series' one major death isn't even much of a surprise since it is heavily suggested it will happen, but since it was a willful departure for the sake of the future, it has genuine bittersweetness and quiet dignity instead of pushing for artificial tears. Even the new generation is fully aware of what they are doing and participating because they want to (Even if the reason they're doing it is because piloting Fafners seems pretty damn awesome).
It feels like the reason I'm broke all the time is I'm always trying to make hard sells. Fafner Exodus just misses being a classic, perhaps not being iconic enough, or maybe the characters are stuck at solid and don't rise to the level of the plot complexities and the beautiful imagery. Yet it is still one of the best series from 2015, made with extreme care and worthy of discussion. So here I am discussing it after I spent months talking about it on seasonal reviews. Being a direct sequel to more troubled older siblings with enough characters to overwhelm the family in Summer Wars may make it a difficult entry point, but that doesn't mean it can't get props for being an incredibly ambitious title that succeeds at most of its ambitions. Let me put this way: As a person who watched and forgot about most of Fafner ten years ago, I can't believe I'm telling you how good this thing is, but here we are.
They must like it quite a bit more in Japan because it's about ten years later and the creators still have enough passion to get most of the band back together and produce a full-on sequel. The director Nobuyoshi Habara, the movie's chief director Takashi Noto, scriptwriter Tow Ubukata with has some name recognition these days (some unwanted), and many more from previous projects were brought in to show the world more Fafner. Similar to when Gonzo trotted out a follow-up to Last Exile only I asked for, it was released to little fanfare or hype over here. Unlike Fam the Silver Wing, however, Exodus is the title greatly eclipsing its counterpart with fantastic visuals, a world with a wealth of ideas allowed to grow, an ambitious story with a huge cast and massive battles, and some unexpected fun mixed in with the drama.
Where do we start with Fafner, and most importantly, where do we end? An alien force called the Festum have invaded Earth and killed most of the population. One island, Tatsumiyajima (Known as D Island for simplicity's sake), has managed to survive with a cloaking shield and advanced weaponry included the Fafners. The Fafners are mecha designed to be controlled by human thought with Festum technology. Unfortunately, since it IS enemy tech and the enemy is a collective with no individual thought, using the Fafners slowly causes them to be absorbed into the collective. After being discovered by the Festum and the Neo UN who want to plunder them for separate reasons, the island residents struggle to survive and are forced to use teenagers as their vanguard. I am skimming over a metric ton since going through it all would require a thesis. What you need to know is teenagers Kazuki and Soushi get run through the ringer as Fafner pilots as well as their friend Maya and former Human Army mercenary Kanon.

That oh-so-briefly brings us up to speed to now. Soushi has returned, the island has a long stretch of peace, and everyone is settling in to figure out what a normal life is. I only wish Exodus started with updating these characters instead of beginning in media res on an attack in Hawaii where a truckload of new characters, most of whom won't be relevant for six episodes, are dumped on the audience with developments and phrases that will be important later rather than sooner (An entire platoon fighting the Festum almost gets devastated with a ROE Alpha command, and it doesn't hit dramatically because the audience doesn't know what ROE Alpha is). After eight minutes of this, we finally go to D Island, where we're introduced to the new main characters first. I would ask you kindly forgive Exodus' rudeness, as it does not seem to understand when you have an epic story with 30-40 significant characters, it's best to give the viewers some solid ground with the familiar first.
If it feels like I've been digging this series' grave, I'm really not. I just want to emphasize how it doesn't leave the best first impression. When the plot settles down, it at least gives a good 10 episodes to get oriented into where everyone stands before trying to juggle dozens of characters in 3 locations. The main characters, after surviving battles they weren't supposed to live through, are trying out this life thing. Most are sticking close to military duty with Maya piloting airplanes instead of Fafners, Canon trying to become a technition, and Soushi deep into research with how to reverse the adverse effects of Fafners on humans and trying to dispose of the exceptionally spooky Fafner Mk. Nicht (It absorbs every pilot's consciousness that has tried to use it and ghosts of those souls wanders the concrete coffin they put Nicht in. Creepy stuff). However, lead Kazuma is content with running a coffee shop, and it's strangely nice to see what happens when the main characters of mech shows driven by teenage angst grow up. Later on, there's even the treat of having Kazuma try to give a pep talk to the next generation of pilots when his generation of anime mech protagonists were simply thrown to the wolves in heaving sobs. It's a tiny detail, but an enjoyable one.
Of course, this wouldn't be a sequel if everyone lived in 26 episodes of peace. A detachment of the Human Army from the Hawaii group travels to D Island, and nothing brings more trouble to this franchise than, "We're from the Human Army and we'd appreciate your help." This band is more friendly than most as they revere Kazuma as a hero and approve of the island's stance of trying to find co-existence. But they still have a mission. Some children born in the world after the Festum have influenced it can communicate with the alien beings through their Mir, the Festum's conscious mind and decision maker. A new Mir is descending to Earth soon and their hope is to use the children called Esparanto to persuade the Mir into a peaceful relationship with humanity rather than immediately being enemies. Unfortunately, the Human Army also had a Festum Mir fragment follow them, and this Mir fragment has filled the missing parts of itself with such human emotions as hatred and vengeance.

Really, that's what this whole project feels like: A playground of new experiences built off a standard anime. The initial idea of Fafner-based off a Norse myth of a man who turns into a dragon as the price of stealing treasure-is the journey of forced evolution in order to survive. In the first series, the idea is mostly used as a method of manufacturing drama as these characters becoming something inhuman or fading into non-existence was the catalyst for easy grief. Exodus explores the potential of moving beyond being just human in all sorts of directions. It reminds me of the SNES game Illusion of Gaia in the idea that every meaningful step forward in evolution means we have to leave something behind that defines our existence. There is the sadness of leaving what's human behind, delivered as the new generation eventually learns the cost of their upgraded Fafners in far more relatable and terrifying than in previous iterations. On the other hand, Soushi and Kazuma release the full potential of their hybrid existence, eventually unlocking God mode on their Fafners and having the powers to restore and destroy only limited by their imagination. Xebec is usually very earthbound with their work, but on this one, they let go and the results can be pretty breathtaking at times. Perhaps the excitement of the later fights is taken down a couple notches because they can restore limbs, heal their friends, and send hundreds of Festum into oblivion at will, but there is a certain awe in how incredibly huge the scope of their abilities become.
The most obvious improvement comes in the visuals. This is one of the best looking anime series you will ever see. What it lacks in artistic bend, it makes up for in sheer craftsmanship and consistency. In wide shots of the island at sunset, every wave and crest in the ocean is visible and moving. Skies on cloudy days are incredibly layered with insane work on gradient and different cloud types. Futuristic 3-D computer readouts have depth you never really appreciate until bad series get it wrong. Half of the shots in this series are absolutely gorgeous with attention given to seemingly every crack in the street. The animation is generally fluid, even in gigantic battles involving thousands of participants. The best part is the episodes have generally the same quality of animation, hardly ever degrading. The character designs might be a little too similar to each other. The concept of D Island as a place that is one huge mostly non-related family might be taken too close to heart as there are a few characters who look exactly like each other and it sometimes can be hard to tell who's speaking if they're in a protective suit, which happens more than you'd think. It doesn't help the two female leads Maya and Kanon are both redheads and Kanon's hairstyle resembles much more of the general population this time around.
In the music department, it's hard to match what the original had with modern budgets. Half of the score is a straight rehash of original, a quarter mostly incidental noodlings, which leaves a small portion of new music which tries to match the sophistication of the first go 'round. It's a bit disappointing for a soundtrack nerd like myself to not have a double down of quality symphonic tunes, but for functionality purposes, it's a-OK. J-Pop duo angela also return to do all the credit music, and their openings are as properly rousing as their closings are properly melancholy. Over a decade later and they've certainly still got it.

What truly makes the difference is the growth in the relationships.. The franchise's core concept of the island as family is improved, giving a friendly repartee with genuinely touching comradery. The leads have more meaningful exchanges, especially the fujoshi-baiting friendship between Kazuma and Soushi. They're the most effeminate bros you will ever meet, but they make it work.The main characters growing up helps immensely. In shows involving teenagers forced to fight for the future of humanity, most of the characters handle matters by being reactionary to the boatload of dramatic missiles launched at them. Exodus' people have grown up a bit, taking responsibility for their own actions and making decisions without being forced into it. As a show built on making difficult choices, it's more meaningful when the choices are made willingly. The series' one major death isn't even much of a surprise since it is heavily suggested it will happen, but since it was a willful departure for the sake of the future, it has genuine bittersweetness and quiet dignity instead of pushing for artificial tears. Even the new generation is fully aware of what they are doing and participating because they want to (Even if the reason they're doing it is because piloting Fafners seems pretty damn awesome).

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Rainy Day Reading 020: City of Light
Walt, Joe, and returning guest Yerocha get together to talk about City of Light, the first episode of Asano Inio month! If you don't know the guy, he writes horribly depressing things really good. Fun! And I know it's very late, shut your mouth!
Listen to the episode by clicking the title card below!
Listen to the episode by clicking the title card below!
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Cel Animation Vs. Digital Animation: Why it's Unfair to Compare Them
Let’s talk cel animation.
This is Osamu Tezuka. Considered one of Japan’s greatest Manga artists, Tezuka was also famous for birthing the anime studio system in the 60’s and 70’s. His notable works are too many to name, but it’s safe to say that Astro Boy is both his most-famous work, and the first anime show ever. In other words, he’s a pretty big deal.
Back when anime was still new, everything was drawn on hand-painted cels. There were people responsible for sketching, animating, painting, sealing, laminating, cutting and framing every single cel involved in a show/movie by hand. This meant that your favourite shows or movies were made by people who laboured like dogs with little-to-no help from computers. The fact that any anime, let-alone good anime, managed to exist is impressive, let-alone on a weekly basis. Add in that cel animation was costly, and that animators were paid chump change, and you’ve got a recipe for heavy pressure. It was trial by fire, and the results were either really awful, or really good, with little room for mediocrity.
I bring this up as context for what I’m about to say about the following video from YouTube critic and commenter, Chris Stuckmann, whom I respect and eagerly anticipate new videos from:
Chris Stuckmann, I should point out, is an anime fan. He’s not the biggest anime fan out there, but I’d say he’s around the same as I am when it comes to his Otakudom: knowledgeable enough to be a fan, but not so into it that he’d dedicate hours on new anime premieres or rare collector’s editions of out-of-print shows/Manga. Chris is a fan, like I am, and every-so-often he dedicates time to showing off or discussing anime. Which is all the more reason I think it’s important that I say this, even if it’s somewhat painful: I think Chris’s rant at the end of his video is short-sighted.
I’m not saying that Chris is being willfully ignorant. He’s not an idiot, as evidenced by his brilliantly-researched retrospective on Toonami. He’s also, most-likely, super busy with his career as a film critic (he has a profile on Rotten Tomatoes) and can’t possibly back-up and research every claim he makes about anime. However, since his complaint smells of a greater epidemic in the Otaku fandom, one that I’ve heard many times, I felt I had to address his claim that modern anime lacks the finesse of classic anime, because I don’t think it’s fair.
Let’s go back to the point I made about the anime industry: it’s functioning on a system introduced in the 60’s and 70’s. Back then, everything was done painstakingly by hand, and it was time-crunched for weekly syndication. There was a lot of pressure to complete shows, which meant plenty of shortcuts were taken to ensure deadlines were met. This included reusing frames, only animating the eyes and lip flaps of characters when still (and even then, only having the lips move up and down,) adding speed lines to indicate movement, having still-frames with narration over them so as to indicate time, cutting fluidity to save time on motion, referencing flashbacks via old footage and, of course, using Manga Iconography in place of facial expressions. It worked, and some of the greatest anime ever was made because of it.
However, there was a downside to these cheats. The biggest one was that, especially when compared to what was being drawn in the West, animation quality was sparsely spread throughout each show (or film.) The detail in character models was greater, thanks to the insistence on proper character anatomy, but, let’s face it, anime was cheap when juxtaposed with its Western counterpart. Even today, where computers have sped up the animation process and allowed for better allocation of resources, a high-end anime show in Japan still pales to a cheaply-made show for Western consumption in budget and overall fluidity. There’s simply no contest.
But whatever, Chris wasn’t referring to anime in general. He was talking about movies, which have far better fluidity and design due to their higher budgets. I’m definitely more partial to anime films in general, for a variety of reasons I won’t get into, but that’s not why I mentioned this. Chris compared hand cel films to modern anime shows and stated that there’s a rough charm that the glossier shows of today can’t match. This is unfair for the reasons I mentioned above. You can’t compare an anime film to an anime show in the same way you can’t compare an animated movie to a Saturday morning cartoon. It’s a losing battle even if the films are older, because they’re gonna look better.
But even outside of that, that’s not to say that modern anime shows automatically look inferior. One of the benefits of the computer style is a better allocation of resources, as well as that everything is rendered faster by default. And shows are no different, especially since a high-end show is most-likely being given the same amount of money as the older movie, except it’s more spread out. Remember, if you give a 98-minute film the same budget as a 26-episode show, the film will obviously look better because not as much will need to be drawn. But the show isn’t any less-impressive.
It’s especially problematic to compare the two because you’re discussing two different beasts from two different time periods. It’s like comparing a sabre-tooth tiger to a Bengal tiger and saying the former’s more efficient. Even if you could back that up with facts, it’s irrelevant because the sabre-tooth tiger’s extinct. It’s also neglectful of the Bengal tiger.
Finally, the complaint reeks of arrogance and elitism: “Hand cel animation will forever be better than what we have now!” It’s not true, as good animation is good animation irrespective of era. Is the roughness of the cel animation worth admiring? Yes. Is it a shame that modern anime is much shinier? Maybe. But does that make one better than the other? No, and I’m disappointed in Chris for insinuating that.
Besides, it ignores a bigger problem currently in anime: the system from the 60’s and 70’s is horribly-outdated. And yet, it's still going this way. If it keeps up, the industry model will collapse, studios will shut down and animators will lose their jobs. We’ve already seen snippets with Studio Manglobe’s closure, and it’s going to continue getting worse. I only hope the anime industry realizes this soon and remedies the issue, or it’ll come back to bite them badly.
This is Osamu Tezuka. Considered one of Japan’s greatest Manga artists, Tezuka was also famous for birthing the anime studio system in the 60’s and 70’s. His notable works are too many to name, but it’s safe to say that Astro Boy is both his most-famous work, and the first anime show ever. In other words, he’s a pretty big deal.
Back when anime was still new, everything was drawn on hand-painted cels. There were people responsible for sketching, animating, painting, sealing, laminating, cutting and framing every single cel involved in a show/movie by hand. This meant that your favourite shows or movies were made by people who laboured like dogs with little-to-no help from computers. The fact that any anime, let-alone good anime, managed to exist is impressive, let-alone on a weekly basis. Add in that cel animation was costly, and that animators were paid chump change, and you’ve got a recipe for heavy pressure. It was trial by fire, and the results were either really awful, or really good, with little room for mediocrity.
I bring this up as context for what I’m about to say about the following video from YouTube critic and commenter, Chris Stuckmann, whom I respect and eagerly anticipate new videos from:
Chris Stuckmann, I should point out, is an anime fan. He’s not the biggest anime fan out there, but I’d say he’s around the same as I am when it comes to his Otakudom: knowledgeable enough to be a fan, but not so into it that he’d dedicate hours on new anime premieres or rare collector’s editions of out-of-print shows/Manga. Chris is a fan, like I am, and every-so-often he dedicates time to showing off or discussing anime. Which is all the more reason I think it’s important that I say this, even if it’s somewhat painful: I think Chris’s rant at the end of his video is short-sighted.
I’m not saying that Chris is being willfully ignorant. He’s not an idiot, as evidenced by his brilliantly-researched retrospective on Toonami. He’s also, most-likely, super busy with his career as a film critic (he has a profile on Rotten Tomatoes) and can’t possibly back-up and research every claim he makes about anime. However, since his complaint smells of a greater epidemic in the Otaku fandom, one that I’ve heard many times, I felt I had to address his claim that modern anime lacks the finesse of classic anime, because I don’t think it’s fair.
Let’s go back to the point I made about the anime industry: it’s functioning on a system introduced in the 60’s and 70’s. Back then, everything was done painstakingly by hand, and it was time-crunched for weekly syndication. There was a lot of pressure to complete shows, which meant plenty of shortcuts were taken to ensure deadlines were met. This included reusing frames, only animating the eyes and lip flaps of characters when still (and even then, only having the lips move up and down,) adding speed lines to indicate movement, having still-frames with narration over them so as to indicate time, cutting fluidity to save time on motion, referencing flashbacks via old footage and, of course, using Manga Iconography in place of facial expressions. It worked, and some of the greatest anime ever was made because of it.
However, there was a downside to these cheats. The biggest one was that, especially when compared to what was being drawn in the West, animation quality was sparsely spread throughout each show (or film.) The detail in character models was greater, thanks to the insistence on proper character anatomy, but, let’s face it, anime was cheap when juxtaposed with its Western counterpart. Even today, where computers have sped up the animation process and allowed for better allocation of resources, a high-end anime show in Japan still pales to a cheaply-made show for Western consumption in budget and overall fluidity. There’s simply no contest.
But whatever, Chris wasn’t referring to anime in general. He was talking about movies, which have far better fluidity and design due to their higher budgets. I’m definitely more partial to anime films in general, for a variety of reasons I won’t get into, but that’s not why I mentioned this. Chris compared hand cel films to modern anime shows and stated that there’s a rough charm that the glossier shows of today can’t match. This is unfair for the reasons I mentioned above. You can’t compare an anime film to an anime show in the same way you can’t compare an animated movie to a Saturday morning cartoon. It’s a losing battle even if the films are older, because they’re gonna look better.
But even outside of that, that’s not to say that modern anime shows automatically look inferior. One of the benefits of the computer style is a better allocation of resources, as well as that everything is rendered faster by default. And shows are no different, especially since a high-end show is most-likely being given the same amount of money as the older movie, except it’s more spread out. Remember, if you give a 98-minute film the same budget as a 26-episode show, the film will obviously look better because not as much will need to be drawn. But the show isn’t any less-impressive.
It’s especially problematic to compare the two because you’re discussing two different beasts from two different time periods. It’s like comparing a sabre-tooth tiger to a Bengal tiger and saying the former’s more efficient. Even if you could back that up with facts, it’s irrelevant because the sabre-tooth tiger’s extinct. It’s also neglectful of the Bengal tiger.
Finally, the complaint reeks of arrogance and elitism: “Hand cel animation will forever be better than what we have now!” It’s not true, as good animation is good animation irrespective of era. Is the roughness of the cel animation worth admiring? Yes. Is it a shame that modern anime is much shinier? Maybe. But does that make one better than the other? No, and I’m disappointed in Chris for insinuating that.
Besides, it ignores a bigger problem currently in anime: the system from the 60’s and 70’s is horribly-outdated. And yet, it's still going this way. If it keeps up, the industry model will collapse, studios will shut down and animators will lose their jobs. We’ve already seen snippets with Studio Manglobe’s closure, and it’s going to continue getting worse. I only hope the anime industry realizes this soon and remedies the issue, or it’ll come back to bite them badly.
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Rainy Day Reading 021: Nijigahara Holograph
Walt continues Asano month with Jonathan, Stephanie, and David, discussing Nijigahara Holograph, where we see Asano at his most GRIM DARK #twelveyearsold. Jonathan continues his tradition of weird recommendations with talk of narrative heavy games, and he is still mad all these fake nerds haven't read Devilman. Also, Gun.
Click the title card below to listen in!
Click the title card below to listen in!
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Whitewashed in the Shell: Hollywood's History with Racism
Every once in a while, I look through Twitter’s Trends to see if something interesting is being discussed. For the most part, sadly, the Trends are either really lame, or really pathetic. Still, every-so-often something of note comes along. Case-in-point:
I’m sure most of you know of Ghost in the Shell. It’s not only one of the most-influential anime films ever, but it’s rubbed off its influence on Hollywood movies like Dark City and The Matrix. Personally, I’m not the biggest fan of it, finding it overly talky and incredibly slow-paced, but I’ll save the full ramblings for another day (it’s been a while, let’s put it that way.) Nevertheless, it, like Akira, has made its mark on the industry.
The rumours of a live-action, Hollywood remake of the film have been going on for years. They’ve been circulating for almost as long as that of a live-action Akira, honestly. The film has been constantly switching directors, studios, cast members, the list goes on. It’s pretty much been in a constant flux of “production hell”, which sounds even worse when you consider that no one was willing to take it seriously. Still, the project seemed destined to make its way to theatres, so that's exactly what happened: Ghost in the Shell is slated for a 2017 release, with Scarlett Johansson being cast as the lead character, Matoko Kusanagi.
Yeah…the red flags are going up with that last sentence, aren’t they?
If your first instinct is to call this ridiculous, then you’re not alone. The entirety of Twitter blew up over this announcement, with almost everyone deeming it in “poor taste”. I usually try not to get too caught up in Twitter activism, especially since a lot of it is over-reactionary, but in this case I see where the criticism is coming from. Because Matoko Kusanagi is an important character to cast properly, so getting that so incredibly wrong is like asking for a hamburger because you’re allergic to the fish fillet…only to end up getting the fish fillet anyway.
Terrible analogy aside, let’s deconstruct some of the biggest points to this controversy:
1. The casting itself-Ghost in the Shell, like I said, is a pretty big deal in Japan’s animation history, being a story that, for lack of a better term, is heavily Japanese. The basic premise of a cybernetic being trying to fend off a computer hacker with no body could’ve been done in any futuristic setting, but that the story chose a Japanese one speaks volumes. I’d explain why, but I think this video does a better job than I ever could:
Ghost in the Shell being set where it was was no accident. I mention this because the characters are equally as Asian as the story. You can argue all you want if cyborgs are defined by race/ethnicity, but that doesn’t make the characters in this story less Asian. A live-action film based on this premise, one that takes place in this universe, has to have an Asian cast. The lead is no exception.
Which is all the more disturbing that they got Scarlett Johansson, an American of Dutch/Jewish decent, to play Matoko Kusanagi. To her credit, I don’t think Johansson’s a bad actress. I love her as Black Widow in the MCU, and she’s proven herself quite versatile with Under the Skin. She’s incredibly skilled as an action heroine and can easily carry a complex film. She also has presence, as indicated by the films I’ve mentioned. But she’s the wrong choice for Ghost in the Shell.
It’s not like I wouldn’t be game for Johansson as Kusanagi. Ignoring that she’s not Asian, the image of her looks authentic: her hair is the right cut, she has the eyes and facial expression down, and she genuinely seems like she cares. But that’s besides the point. Johansson’s casting was an oversight on the parts of Paramount Pictures and DreamWorks Pictures because it’s not right for the character. It doesn't reflect who Kusanagi's supposed to be as an individual, in other words.
2. Hollywood’s past-Hollywood has a dark history of whitewashing in order to appeal to the masses. Whether it’s populating its Biblical epics with white actors and actresses instead of from the Middle East, casting John Wayne as Genghis Khan, or even the modern-day, live-action film of the Dragon Ball franchise, it’s no secret that Hollywood’s guilty of prejudice when it comes to films in non-caucasian environments. Sometimes it’s not so terrible, Ben Kingsley as The Mandarin in Iron Man 3 didn’t bug me because the original character was a racist caricature anyway, but most of the time it’s…well, it’s offensive. It’s offensive because there are many talented actors and actresses in other parts of the world who are clamouring to become popular, and giving roles they could’ve excelled in to white actors and actresses with clout makes it seem like Hollywood is overly self-indulgent in its own vapidness.
It’s especially problematic because Scarlett Johansson didn’t need that role, as she already has a steady career of successful films. By taking it on, she’s robbing potential actresses from Japan, South Korea, China, or other countries in that part of the world a chance to make it big over here. Even excluding fan-favourite Rinko Kikuchi, there are many talented actresses that could’ve fit the role. People like Rila Fukushima (Yukio from The Wolverine), Bae Doona (Soonmi-451 from Cloud Atlas) and Zhang Ziyi (Moon from Hero) spring to mind almost immediately when I think of what Kusanagi could’ve looked like in live-action, and I’m not that familiar with Asian cinema!
Basically, there’s a list of actresses from the East who are far better-suited to Matoko Kusanagi than Johansson. And it saddens me that they’re not being considered, especially since Ghost in the Shell has the potential to be a game-changer so far as how the West views Japanese entertainment (y’know, assuming the talent involved actually cared about quality.) It’s Japanese, but not to the point where you can’t enjoy it without context of Japanese culture, and it’s incredibly popular. So Hollywood not capitalizing on an unknown face in a live-action film is really disappointing.
It’s additionally disappointing because it reenforces negative stereotypes about how the West views the rest of the world: “We don’t want to be accurate because we don’t care about you! What’s that? We’re jerks, and our movies will probably suck? Well, too bad! We have all the money, so HAH!”
I think Hollywood keeps forgetting two important details: 1. That not every movie-goer is white, so a little diversity every-so-often would actually be healthy. 2. Even outside of that, people hold these properties in high-regard, so not representing them properly is a slap in the face.
Both concerns make for some pretty sour audiences members, which leads to my final point…
3. Casting isn’t the only issue-I don’t think this live-action remake of Ghost in the Shell will be good. I want it to, and I’d be happy if I were proven wrong, but I’m not putting my money on something that’s been floating around this long without results.
It’s weird that people don’t acknowledge this crucial fact. Ignoring what I think about the original movie, it’s being hemmed by the director of Snow White and the Huntsman, aka Rupert Sanders. Given that track-record I’m not holding my breath. It doesn’t help that the film’s been bounced around so frequently and has gotten nowhere until now, especially since the last big-budget studio movie to do that, Fant4stic, was atrocious. While there are definitely exceptions to being frequently delayed, Inside Out had a 6 year production cycle and was still awesome, that isn’t a good sign.
I’m also more concerned about the quality of the acting and the film in general. Exodus: Gods and Kings was the last whitewashed movie I watched, and that was a blandly-acted, sloppily-written and overall unpleasant movie to sit through. I can forgive whitewashing somewhat so long as a movie’s great, see The Ten Commandments, but “great” that one wasn’t. It was over 2 hours, perhaps even close to 3, of Ridley Scott flaunting his atheism and disdain for religion because he could, which irritated me. (Thank God for The Martian the following year, or I’d have given up on Scott.)
Which leads back to Ghost in the Shell: yes, the casting choice is terrible, and completely spits in the face of the original story. But no, I don’t think that alone can tank it as a project. The acting and overall production quality, however, can, and it most-likely will given how troubled it already is. I want to be proven wrong here, I HOPE I get proven wrong here! But I’m incredibly doubtful that I will be.
Besides, if this movie turns out to be terrible, there’s always the original, no?
I’m sure most of you know of Ghost in the Shell. It’s not only one of the most-influential anime films ever, but it’s rubbed off its influence on Hollywood movies like Dark City and The Matrix. Personally, I’m not the biggest fan of it, finding it overly talky and incredibly slow-paced, but I’ll save the full ramblings for another day (it’s been a while, let’s put it that way.) Nevertheless, it, like Akira, has made its mark on the industry.
The rumours of a live-action, Hollywood remake of the film have been going on for years. They’ve been circulating for almost as long as that of a live-action Akira, honestly. The film has been constantly switching directors, studios, cast members, the list goes on. It’s pretty much been in a constant flux of “production hell”, which sounds even worse when you consider that no one was willing to take it seriously. Still, the project seemed destined to make its way to theatres, so that's exactly what happened: Ghost in the Shell is slated for a 2017 release, with Scarlett Johansson being cast as the lead character, Matoko Kusanagi.
Yeah…the red flags are going up with that last sentence, aren’t they?
If your first instinct is to call this ridiculous, then you’re not alone. The entirety of Twitter blew up over this announcement, with almost everyone deeming it in “poor taste”. I usually try not to get too caught up in Twitter activism, especially since a lot of it is over-reactionary, but in this case I see where the criticism is coming from. Because Matoko Kusanagi is an important character to cast properly, so getting that so incredibly wrong is like asking for a hamburger because you’re allergic to the fish fillet…only to end up getting the fish fillet anyway.
Terrible analogy aside, let’s deconstruct some of the biggest points to this controversy:
1. The casting itself-Ghost in the Shell, like I said, is a pretty big deal in Japan’s animation history, being a story that, for lack of a better term, is heavily Japanese. The basic premise of a cybernetic being trying to fend off a computer hacker with no body could’ve been done in any futuristic setting, but that the story chose a Japanese one speaks volumes. I’d explain why, but I think this video does a better job than I ever could:
I really despise that eery music, by the way. (Courtesy of Nerdwriter1.)
Ghost in the Shell being set where it was was no accident. I mention this because the characters are equally as Asian as the story. You can argue all you want if cyborgs are defined by race/ethnicity, but that doesn’t make the characters in this story less Asian. A live-action film based on this premise, one that takes place in this universe, has to have an Asian cast. The lead is no exception.
Which is all the more disturbing that they got Scarlett Johansson, an American of Dutch/Jewish decent, to play Matoko Kusanagi. To her credit, I don’t think Johansson’s a bad actress. I love her as Black Widow in the MCU, and she’s proven herself quite versatile with Under the Skin. She’s incredibly skilled as an action heroine and can easily carry a complex film. She also has presence, as indicated by the films I’ve mentioned. But she’s the wrong choice for Ghost in the Shell.
It’s not like I wouldn’t be game for Johansson as Kusanagi. Ignoring that she’s not Asian, the image of her looks authentic: her hair is the right cut, she has the eyes and facial expression down, and she genuinely seems like she cares. But that’s besides the point. Johansson’s casting was an oversight on the parts of Paramount Pictures and DreamWorks Pictures because it’s not right for the character. It doesn't reflect who Kusanagi's supposed to be as an individual, in other words.
2. Hollywood’s past-Hollywood has a dark history of whitewashing in order to appeal to the masses. Whether it’s populating its Biblical epics with white actors and actresses instead of from the Middle East, casting John Wayne as Genghis Khan, or even the modern-day, live-action film of the Dragon Ball franchise, it’s no secret that Hollywood’s guilty of prejudice when it comes to films in non-caucasian environments. Sometimes it’s not so terrible, Ben Kingsley as The Mandarin in Iron Man 3 didn’t bug me because the original character was a racist caricature anyway, but most of the time it’s…well, it’s offensive. It’s offensive because there are many talented actors and actresses in other parts of the world who are clamouring to become popular, and giving roles they could’ve excelled in to white actors and actresses with clout makes it seem like Hollywood is overly self-indulgent in its own vapidness.
It’s especially problematic because Scarlett Johansson didn’t need that role, as she already has a steady career of successful films. By taking it on, she’s robbing potential actresses from Japan, South Korea, China, or other countries in that part of the world a chance to make it big over here. Even excluding fan-favourite Rinko Kikuchi, there are many talented actresses that could’ve fit the role. People like Rila Fukushima (Yukio from The Wolverine), Bae Doona (Soonmi-451 from Cloud Atlas) and Zhang Ziyi (Moon from Hero) spring to mind almost immediately when I think of what Kusanagi could’ve looked like in live-action, and I’m not that familiar with Asian cinema!
Basically, there’s a list of actresses from the East who are far better-suited to Matoko Kusanagi than Johansson. And it saddens me that they’re not being considered, especially since Ghost in the Shell has the potential to be a game-changer so far as how the West views Japanese entertainment (y’know, assuming the talent involved actually cared about quality.) It’s Japanese, but not to the point where you can’t enjoy it without context of Japanese culture, and it’s incredibly popular. So Hollywood not capitalizing on an unknown face in a live-action film is really disappointing.
It’s additionally disappointing because it reenforces negative stereotypes about how the West views the rest of the world: “We don’t want to be accurate because we don’t care about you! What’s that? We’re jerks, and our movies will probably suck? Well, too bad! We have all the money, so HAH!”
I think Hollywood keeps forgetting two important details: 1. That not every movie-goer is white, so a little diversity every-so-often would actually be healthy. 2. Even outside of that, people hold these properties in high-regard, so not representing them properly is a slap in the face.
Both concerns make for some pretty sour audiences members, which leads to my final point…
3. Casting isn’t the only issue-I don’t think this live-action remake of Ghost in the Shell will be good. I want it to, and I’d be happy if I were proven wrong, but I’m not putting my money on something that’s been floating around this long without results.
It’s weird that people don’t acknowledge this crucial fact. Ignoring what I think about the original movie, it’s being hemmed by the director of Snow White and the Huntsman, aka Rupert Sanders. Given that track-record I’m not holding my breath. It doesn’t help that the film’s been bounced around so frequently and has gotten nowhere until now, especially since the last big-budget studio movie to do that, Fant4stic, was atrocious. While there are definitely exceptions to being frequently delayed, Inside Out had a 6 year production cycle and was still awesome, that isn’t a good sign.
I’m also more concerned about the quality of the acting and the film in general. Exodus: Gods and Kings was the last whitewashed movie I watched, and that was a blandly-acted, sloppily-written and overall unpleasant movie to sit through. I can forgive whitewashing somewhat so long as a movie’s great, see The Ten Commandments, but “great” that one wasn’t. It was over 2 hours, perhaps even close to 3, of Ridley Scott flaunting his atheism and disdain for religion because he could, which irritated me. (Thank God for The Martian the following year, or I’d have given up on Scott.)
Which leads back to Ghost in the Shell: yes, the casting choice is terrible, and completely spits in the face of the original story. But no, I don’t think that alone can tank it as a project. The acting and overall production quality, however, can, and it most-likely will given how troubled it already is. I want to be proven wrong here, I HOPE I get proven wrong here! But I’m incredibly doubtful that I will be.
Besides, if this movie turns out to be terrible, there’s always the original, no?
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Kizumonogatari I: Tekketsu-hen
The Monogatari anime has always stood out as a unique series, for better or for worse. A bizarre blend of character-driven stories, over the top fanservice, and abstract visuals that make for a show that isn't quite like anything else out there. It isn't for everyone, but I've personally always enjoyed the quirks of the series. Yet, I have felt that the formula which once made the show and other studio Shaft works stand out has over time become somewhat mundane. To be fair, my favorite arcs of the Monogatari series have been more recent ones such as Hitagi End and Suruga Devil, but as a whole it has felt as if Shaft had settled into a groove, reusing the same old visual tricks and techniques. This isn't explicitly a bad thing, but it was disappointing to see a studio that once stood out for the inventiveness and experimentation of their visuals and storytelling becoming more and more stagnant over time. And it's partially because of how the latest installment in the Monogatari franchise and first entry in a new film trilogy, Kizumonogatari I: Tekketsu-hen, overcomes that stagnation, that I found it so immensely refreshing.
As a bit of background, up until recently the Kizumonogatari anime had essentially become a joke. Despite being the second book in the Monogatari light novel series in terms of release date and the first chronologically, Shaft had indefinitely delayed the anime adaptation, constantly pushing vague release dates further and further down the line year after year. And that's if they even bothered to mention it at all. So at a certain point it became a running gag, "yeah, that'll happen when Kizumonogatari comes out," a phrase which indicates implausibility synonymous with "when pigs fly" or "in your dreams" or "Half Life 3". But then against all expectations they actually announced a concrete release date for it as a film series, and now that first entry is done and released. So other than losing a perfectly good jab at the studio, it does feel strange to have finally seen it, and also to have so much to say about it.
Kizumonogatari takes place before the events of previous Monogatari arcs, following the series' main protagonist, a teenage boy named Araragi, as he becomes wrapped up in the world of apparitions for the first time through a chance encounter with a female vampire named Kiss-Shot Acerola-Orion Heart-Under-Blade (a character fans of the series would later come to know as Shinobu), and becoming a vampire himself along the way. One of the most fascinating things about Kizumonogatari as a film is how intriguing the story, and Araragi's characterization, is right out of the gate, but not on its own merits. But instead, in hindsight for those who have already watched the other Monogatari anime arcs. To elaborate, I've never been much of a fan of Araragi as a character. In all previous entries Araragi was portrayed as unapologetically altruistic. He devotes himself entirely to helping others at every opportunity, putting his own well being aside for the sake of others, to the point of often ignoring reason or logic to do so. He's reminiscent of countless other ridiculously selfless light novel protagonists, and it can get tiring as the series goes on and on. He comes off as too simple-minded and idealistic, yet he always ends up saving the day anyway. The series has on a few occasions explored why he is this way, and even the consequences that can arise from this sort of attitude, but all in all I've never found him nearly as interesting or complex as the rest of the cast.
So that's why I was caught of guard when Kizumonogatari begins with Araragi essentially making a complete 180 from the person I'd known up until now. The Araragi of Kizumonogatari is a selfish, lonesome, cowardly recluse. He claims to not care about anyone besides himself, even actively avoiding making friends. At one point he says that having friends is dangerous, because when they feel pain or sadness, you end up feeling that in tandem with them, and that having friends therefore weakens you as a person. Instead of striving to help others in every opportunity, trying to carry the burdens of others, this Araragi is terrified of those burdens somehow weighing him down, at least on the surface. And later on in the film, Araragi begins struggling between two viewpoints after being faced with the decision of whether to sacrifice himself for someone else's sake upon encountering Kiss-Shot. For a character who's often so relentlessly straightforward, it was fascinating seeing this new side of him, conflicted over what it was he wants and what kind of person he may become. It's a bizarre situation that, whether intentional or not, his character arc has become more interesting because the series skipped backwards rather than showing this earlier. The context gained through that which fans already know like Owarimonogatari's exploration into why he became so untrusting and belligerent towards other people, and Nekomonogatari's arc on Hanekawa informing us why it is she's interested in Araragi and his isolation, makes the story engaging purely through connecting the dots in how the motivations, backstories, and internal conflicts of the series' other entries interconnect with this one.
Now, with all that put aside, those who aren't long time fans of the series will probably find less to chew on here. Looking at this film as an individual entity, there isn't a whole lot going on so far other than dialogue laying down the seeds of Araragi's development, and making implications of a clash between Kiss-Shot and Vampire Hunters down the line. When it comes down to it this is only the first part of a larger story, making it mostly set up, preparing all the players for events to come. It's very much an incomplete package, and we'll have to wait until the second and third installments eventually come around before seeing how well all these preparations actually pay off in the long run. There's a bit of action, but for the most part this first film is just dialogue driving the characterization, which although interesting, as of now lacks any emotional pay-off. Beyond that, the interactions between characters are also the funniest Monogatari has been in a while. Araragi, Hanekawa, and eventually Kiss-Shot and Oshino play off each other very well, and some cartoony visual humor helps to bring some fun and light heartedness to what is otherwise a fairly dark film. Even the film's one significant case of over-the-top fanservice (an unfortunate Monogatari tradition) manages to be hilarious in how it's presented, and how the characters react to it.
On the topic of visuals, to simply say Kizumonogatari is by far the best the series has ever looked wouldn't be doing it justice. The film is an absolutely gorgeous work in its own right. The incredibly high bar the film sets for itself right out of the gate, with a gorgeously animated scene of incredible effects animation is somehow constantly met throughout. From my experience at least, no previous studio Shaft production has ever had consistent, masterful movement of this caliber from start to finish. The film hardly ever focused on purely still characters, as faces, bodies, and even hair were constantly moving with immense attention to detail. It came off as some sort of all-star gathering of talented animators showing off just what they're capable of when given the time and resources. I could write an entire separate piece simply on the animation of the film, from the vibrant and erratic fire animation of the opening scene, to the amazing fluidity of Araragi and Hanekawa's hair blowing in the wind. It's not just on another level from previous Monogatari iterations in terms of animation, it's in a completely different galaxy. The amount of style, vigor, and passion put into nearly every drawing shows, and makes the impact of those scenes all the more memorable and powerful.
Even outside of the animation, Kizumonogatari manages to look excellent visually in nearly every aspect. The use of color, framing, lighting, and art direction help to make what are fairly mundane locales (a street, a subway station, an abandoned cram school) striking, pulling me into the bizarre, creepy world the film creates. This also shows in how the film is directed. Bakemonogatari director Tatsuya Oishi returning to the helm not only brings back his unique, uncanny style of storyboarding, but pushes forward with ideas introduced in the original TV series (Bakemonogatari) in terms of tone. Some scenes are presented in a way that almost comes off as less drama and more horror. The film is often genuinely unsettling, a direction the series hasn't gone in for a long time, and never to this extent. The atmosphere of the world the film creates is surreal and barren, while also strangely beautiful. And while it certainly features plenty of Monogatari-patented dialogue dumps, it also has some powerful instances of silent, purely visual storytelling. The way these pieces all come together is best exemplified in the scene when Araragi first encounters Kiss-Shot, brought there in complete silence, his face expressively animated with intense terror, every part of the environment displaying the fear and inescapability he felt, from the red lights throughout the room, to all the escalators in the station moving down towards him as if trapping him, as he encounters the mangled vampire, her red blood clashing with the pure white floor. All these ingredients joining together make for gripping scenes that evoke emotion through animation as a visual medium wonderfully.
Another area where Kizumonogatari sets itself apart from previous Monogatari entries was in its heavy use of CG, albeit with mixed results. The most detrimental case of CG in the film is the use of CG character models. It isn't a glaring issue, but every once and a while in distant shots, when the character's motion is harder to make out, characters will suddenly be animated in CG rather than 2D animation. It's not especially common in the film, and one could likely miss it if they weren't paying close attention, but once I noticed it I had difficulty not being bothered by it. It doesn't seem at all necessary, it stands out like a sore thumb, and they're just ugly and stiffly animated. Plus, it comes off like a cheap tactic to avoid doing certain cuts at unusual, typically far off angles, expecting no one to notice.
Kizumonogatari's CG backgrounds, however, I actually quite liked. My favorite uses of CG in 2D anime is when it's used to accomplish that not possible with 2D animation, and the film's backgrounds are an excellent example of that. The "camera" of Kizumonogatari is constantly moving, swooping around characters as they move, rising, falling, and spinning, allowing for greater freedom of movement in the film's cinematography than ever possible in the series' past. And it makes for some really cool shots, following around characters as they walk or rotating around characters or backgrounds for dramatic effect. The backgrounds are jarring at first, as they often contrast noticeably with the chracters. I do feel that disparity between the characters and world does serve the tone of the film in a way, the world around Araragi being so unnatural and separated does fit with the film's already surreal and unsettling aesthetic, along with Araragi's mental state, being dragged into an unknown world he doesn't understand. But still, it could have been integrated better as it still comes off as awkward the way flat characters appear to glide along 3-dimensional spaces.
When it comes down to it, Kizumonogatari I: Tekketsu-hen is only the first step in a larger story, carefully setting up the pieces, but not fully utilizing any of its major plot threads just yet. But even then, this first entry in this three part series is still a fun, intriguing, and even thrilling experience that has revitalized the inventiveness of the Monogatari series for the first time in a long time. It boasts incredible animation far beyond any of the series' previous iterations, and a bold new direction for the series in terms of tone and visual storytelling. In addition, long time fans of the series will get a kick out of all the new insights into established series characters, seeing how these earlier forms of their personalities contextualize later conflicts and arcs. Despite its short runtime, the film feels gratifying, while still leaving me wanting more. If you already couldn't stand the Monogatari series' tongue-in-cheek fanservice or heavy focus on dialogue, this entry may not change your mind. But still, it sets itself apart from the series' past in some significant ways while still staying true to what made it work in the first place. So for fans, or anyone up for something weird and different, Kizumonogatari I: Tekketsu-hen is a one-of-a-kind blend of horror, comedy, and character-driven dialogue that sets the trilogy of films off to a promising start.
As a bit of background, up until recently the Kizumonogatari anime had essentially become a joke. Despite being the second book in the Monogatari light novel series in terms of release date and the first chronologically, Shaft had indefinitely delayed the anime adaptation, constantly pushing vague release dates further and further down the line year after year. And that's if they even bothered to mention it at all. So at a certain point it became a running gag, "yeah, that'll happen when Kizumonogatari comes out," a phrase which indicates implausibility synonymous with "when pigs fly" or "in your dreams" or "Half Life 3". But then against all expectations they actually announced a concrete release date for it as a film series, and now that first entry is done and released. So other than losing a perfectly good jab at the studio, it does feel strange to have finally seen it, and also to have so much to say about it.
Kizumonogatari takes place before the events of previous Monogatari arcs, following the series' main protagonist, a teenage boy named Araragi, as he becomes wrapped up in the world of apparitions for the first time through a chance encounter with a female vampire named Kiss-Shot Acerola-Orion Heart-Under-Blade (a character fans of the series would later come to know as Shinobu), and becoming a vampire himself along the way. One of the most fascinating things about Kizumonogatari as a film is how intriguing the story, and Araragi's characterization, is right out of the gate, but not on its own merits. But instead, in hindsight for those who have already watched the other Monogatari anime arcs. To elaborate, I've never been much of a fan of Araragi as a character. In all previous entries Araragi was portrayed as unapologetically altruistic. He devotes himself entirely to helping others at every opportunity, putting his own well being aside for the sake of others, to the point of often ignoring reason or logic to do so. He's reminiscent of countless other ridiculously selfless light novel protagonists, and it can get tiring as the series goes on and on. He comes off as too simple-minded and idealistic, yet he always ends up saving the day anyway. The series has on a few occasions explored why he is this way, and even the consequences that can arise from this sort of attitude, but all in all I've never found him nearly as interesting or complex as the rest of the cast.
So that's why I was caught of guard when Kizumonogatari begins with Araragi essentially making a complete 180 from the person I'd known up until now. The Araragi of Kizumonogatari is a selfish, lonesome, cowardly recluse. He claims to not care about anyone besides himself, even actively avoiding making friends. At one point he says that having friends is dangerous, because when they feel pain or sadness, you end up feeling that in tandem with them, and that having friends therefore weakens you as a person. Instead of striving to help others in every opportunity, trying to carry the burdens of others, this Araragi is terrified of those burdens somehow weighing him down, at least on the surface. And later on in the film, Araragi begins struggling between two viewpoints after being faced with the decision of whether to sacrifice himself for someone else's sake upon encountering Kiss-Shot. For a character who's often so relentlessly straightforward, it was fascinating seeing this new side of him, conflicted over what it was he wants and what kind of person he may become. It's a bizarre situation that, whether intentional or not, his character arc has become more interesting because the series skipped backwards rather than showing this earlier. The context gained through that which fans already know like Owarimonogatari's exploration into why he became so untrusting and belligerent towards other people, and Nekomonogatari's arc on Hanekawa informing us why it is she's interested in Araragi and his isolation, makes the story engaging purely through connecting the dots in how the motivations, backstories, and internal conflicts of the series' other entries interconnect with this one.
Now, with all that put aside, those who aren't long time fans of the series will probably find less to chew on here. Looking at this film as an individual entity, there isn't a whole lot going on so far other than dialogue laying down the seeds of Araragi's development, and making implications of a clash between Kiss-Shot and Vampire Hunters down the line. When it comes down to it this is only the first part of a larger story, making it mostly set up, preparing all the players for events to come. It's very much an incomplete package, and we'll have to wait until the second and third installments eventually come around before seeing how well all these preparations actually pay off in the long run. There's a bit of action, but for the most part this first film is just dialogue driving the characterization, which although interesting, as of now lacks any emotional pay-off. Beyond that, the interactions between characters are also the funniest Monogatari has been in a while. Araragi, Hanekawa, and eventually Kiss-Shot and Oshino play off each other very well, and some cartoony visual humor helps to bring some fun and light heartedness to what is otherwise a fairly dark film. Even the film's one significant case of over-the-top fanservice (an unfortunate Monogatari tradition) manages to be hilarious in how it's presented, and how the characters react to it.
On the topic of visuals, to simply say Kizumonogatari is by far the best the series has ever looked wouldn't be doing it justice. The film is an absolutely gorgeous work in its own right. The incredibly high bar the film sets for itself right out of the gate, with a gorgeously animated scene of incredible effects animation is somehow constantly met throughout. From my experience at least, no previous studio Shaft production has ever had consistent, masterful movement of this caliber from start to finish. The film hardly ever focused on purely still characters, as faces, bodies, and even hair were constantly moving with immense attention to detail. It came off as some sort of all-star gathering of talented animators showing off just what they're capable of when given the time and resources. I could write an entire separate piece simply on the animation of the film, from the vibrant and erratic fire animation of the opening scene, to the amazing fluidity of Araragi and Hanekawa's hair blowing in the wind. It's not just on another level from previous Monogatari iterations in terms of animation, it's in a completely different galaxy. The amount of style, vigor, and passion put into nearly every drawing shows, and makes the impact of those scenes all the more memorable and powerful.
Even outside of the animation, Kizumonogatari manages to look excellent visually in nearly every aspect. The use of color, framing, lighting, and art direction help to make what are fairly mundane locales (a street, a subway station, an abandoned cram school) striking, pulling me into the bizarre, creepy world the film creates. This also shows in how the film is directed. Bakemonogatari director Tatsuya Oishi returning to the helm not only brings back his unique, uncanny style of storyboarding, but pushes forward with ideas introduced in the original TV series (Bakemonogatari) in terms of tone. Some scenes are presented in a way that almost comes off as less drama and more horror. The film is often genuinely unsettling, a direction the series hasn't gone in for a long time, and never to this extent. The atmosphere of the world the film creates is surreal and barren, while also strangely beautiful. And while it certainly features plenty of Monogatari-patented dialogue dumps, it also has some powerful instances of silent, purely visual storytelling. The way these pieces all come together is best exemplified in the scene when Araragi first encounters Kiss-Shot, brought there in complete silence, his face expressively animated with intense terror, every part of the environment displaying the fear and inescapability he felt, from the red lights throughout the room, to all the escalators in the station moving down towards him as if trapping him, as he encounters the mangled vampire, her red blood clashing with the pure white floor. All these ingredients joining together make for gripping scenes that evoke emotion through animation as a visual medium wonderfully.
Another area where Kizumonogatari sets itself apart from previous Monogatari entries was in its heavy use of CG, albeit with mixed results. The most detrimental case of CG in the film is the use of CG character models. It isn't a glaring issue, but every once and a while in distant shots, when the character's motion is harder to make out, characters will suddenly be animated in CG rather than 2D animation. It's not especially common in the film, and one could likely miss it if they weren't paying close attention, but once I noticed it I had difficulty not being bothered by it. It doesn't seem at all necessary, it stands out like a sore thumb, and they're just ugly and stiffly animated. Plus, it comes off like a cheap tactic to avoid doing certain cuts at unusual, typically far off angles, expecting no one to notice.
Kizumonogatari's CG backgrounds, however, I actually quite liked. My favorite uses of CG in 2D anime is when it's used to accomplish that not possible with 2D animation, and the film's backgrounds are an excellent example of that. The "camera" of Kizumonogatari is constantly moving, swooping around characters as they move, rising, falling, and spinning, allowing for greater freedom of movement in the film's cinematography than ever possible in the series' past. And it makes for some really cool shots, following around characters as they walk or rotating around characters or backgrounds for dramatic effect. The backgrounds are jarring at first, as they often contrast noticeably with the chracters. I do feel that disparity between the characters and world does serve the tone of the film in a way, the world around Araragi being so unnatural and separated does fit with the film's already surreal and unsettling aesthetic, along with Araragi's mental state, being dragged into an unknown world he doesn't understand. But still, it could have been integrated better as it still comes off as awkward the way flat characters appear to glide along 3-dimensional spaces.
When it comes down to it, Kizumonogatari I: Tekketsu-hen is only the first step in a larger story, carefully setting up the pieces, but not fully utilizing any of its major plot threads just yet. But even then, this first entry in this three part series is still a fun, intriguing, and even thrilling experience that has revitalized the inventiveness of the Monogatari series for the first time in a long time. It boasts incredible animation far beyond any of the series' previous iterations, and a bold new direction for the series in terms of tone and visual storytelling. In addition, long time fans of the series will get a kick out of all the new insights into established series characters, seeing how these earlier forms of their personalities contextualize later conflicts and arcs. Despite its short runtime, the film feels gratifying, while still leaving me wanting more. If you already couldn't stand the Monogatari series' tongue-in-cheek fanservice or heavy focus on dialogue, this entry may not change your mind. But still, it sets itself apart from the series' past in some significant ways while still staying true to what made it work in the first place. So for fans, or anyone up for something weird and different, Kizumonogatari I: Tekketsu-hen is a one-of-a-kind blend of horror, comedy, and character-driven dialogue that sets the trilogy of films off to a promising start.
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Crunchyroll Manga Sampler Course Six
This might be the weirdest sampler we've looked at yet. It's time to plumb the bottom of Crunchyroll's manga page a little for our latest Crunchyroll Manga Sampler:
BAROM ONE
Course Six: Barom One, Takahashi-San Is Listening, & The Diary of Ochibi-San
Things start off innocently enough, when a fight between a couple of boys turns into a dangerous dare. Just as young Takeshi and Kentaro are about to drown, though, a alien force rescues them and commands them to fight another alien being called Doruge. To help them, the alien grants the boys the ability to transform into a single powerful being called Barom One when they link arms. The two boys will have to learn to work together fast, as their enemy can take on any shape and hide in any person...
Once again, I find myself look at another work by Golgo 13 creator Takao Saito. This is probably the most kid-friendly thing he ever did, and in spite of its age it might be one of his most approachable works. Mind you, back in 1970 writing manga for kids meant spelling out everything in long expositional conversations and making our heroes wholly good and our rather ephermeral villain wholly evil. Thank goodness, then, that Takeshi and Kentaro aren't completely obnoxious goody-goodies about it. The two are a well-matched pair of brains and brawn, and most of their time is spent trying to work out precisely how their newfound powers work.
Saito is mostly known for drawing lots of grim, stony-faced men, and while there are plenty to go around here, the character designs are far more rounded and cartoony than his fans may be used to. Aside from everyone's giant eyebrows, they don't look all that different from the other shonen manga of the day. The only character design that doesn't really work for me is that for the title character. Barom One has a goofy superhero-style unitard complete with these really distracting hair...horns? Wings? It makes him look more like Dilbert's boss than an action hero. He still brings his usual gritty flare to the backgrounds, which are nicely drawn and full of murky shadows. The action scenes aren't bad either. They flow nicely on the page, which surprisingly uncommon for shonen of that time. What surprised me was how creepy the art could get at time. The fact that Doruge can essentially take over anything living or inanimate that it wishes and the only tell is when their eyes turn dark and beady can be unnerving at times. It's a somewhat subtle touch in a genre not known for subtlety and I'll take it where I can get it.
I understand why this series is drifting around the very bottom of Crunchyroll's manga page. Old manga like this has a very limited audience and I can see a lot of people just writing Barom One off as hokey and weird. That's a bit of a disservice, though. It's old and hokey, but not without charm or quality and it certainly merits a look. RATING: 6/10
TAKAHASHI-SAN IS LISTENING
Ena Takahashi is a lovely idol singer, but she's got a secret. Her friends think that whenever she puts on her headphones, she's simply listening to music to cheer herself up. What Ena is actually doing is giving herself a cover while she overheads the bizarre yet ridiculous conversations between two of her classmates. She struggles to keep silent lest she be discovered, but she always feels better afterwards and sometimes finds the answer to her own problems in the process. This is a simple, positively formulaic premise, but not one without comedic potential. Why is it then that nearly every chapter left me without so much as a single giggle?
Part of it comes down to the jokes themselves. There are plenty of jokes here that I suspect that were based on homophone and lookalike kanji that are nigh untranslatable into English. It's not just about that, though. Good humor needs a certain ebb and flow to it. Even if the subject matter is purely random, that randomness needs to build upon itself until it reaches its peak with the punchline. The problem here is that the boys' conversations are pretty much a steady, low-key drip-feed of inanity. The randomness doesn't build upon itself so much as it tends to collide without warning. Worse still, Ena's mental commentary doesn't really add anything to the jokes. If anything, it just comes off as a subpar take on the old manzai routine of someone yelling “YOU ARE DOING A SILLY THING! WHY ARE YOU DOING A SILLY THING?” The one time one of these conversation streams worked as a gag was when a conversation about what is ostensibly Tokyo Disneyland led to Ena fearing Disney's legal team if one of the boys tries to draw Mickey Mouse. It's a bit metatextual, but it's one of the few times where there's some sort of internal logic to the joke and it actually lends itself to some tension, which in turn gives the punchline some actual punch. Plus, it's nice to know that the stereotype about Disney having crazy, scary lawyers is not an exclusively American one.
It's weird that this series did absolutely nothing for me considering how similar in premise this series is to My Neighbor Seki, a manga (and a series) that I really enjoyed. After a bit of thought, I finally figured it out. In Seki, Rumi is not just an observer and judge, but a character in her own right. She often gets just as swept up in Seki's games as he does, and the punchlines are not always in Seki's favor. His games also have a logic and procedure to them; they are not random for the sake of randomness. Takahashi-san Is Listening lacks that logic and character, and because of that the humor is as flat and appealing as a day old can of pop. RATING: 4/10
THE DIARY OF OCHIBI-SAN
Even by the standards of Moyocco Anno's career as a whole, Ochibi is a weird one. Most of her works are jaded examinations of deeply damaged young people. More youthful works like Sugar Sugar Rune tend to be the exception, not the rule. The Diary of Ochibi-San is even more of an exception than that, as it feels more like a children's book than anything else. It's about the titular Ochibi, a little boy who has simple little gag-driven adventures with the talking dogs Nazeni and Pankui. Stylistically, it's almost akin to a 4-koma manga, as each page is its own self-contained gag and the story (such as it is) follow the seasons and holidays through the year. They even include seperate pages explaining some of the holidays and traditions on display for Western readers as the story goes along. Yet Anno's sly sense of humor is still there, buried under the cutesy full-color artwork. It's not deep, but it's charming and eccentric enough win me over. RATING: 7/10
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Rainy Day Reading 022: What A Wonderful World
Asano month wraps up with Zach and Tama joining Walt for a look at What A Wonderful World, which is probably about the end of the world and people committing suicide or something, considering the talent behind it. Does the month end with a bang or a thud?
Listen to the episode by clicking the title card below.
Listen to the episode by clicking the title card below.
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The Case for Vic Mignogna
It should come as no surprise that I'm a dub fan. I not only speak English, but I also appreciate the talent and passion that goes into so many English dubs. In some cases, like with Cowboy Bebop and Baccano!, you can make the case for the dub being superior! Clearly, there’s something to be said for the existence of dubs. But I’ve already written on that for Infinite Rainy Day...
Anyway, FUNimation Entertainment recently announced that they were re-dubbing the 90’s series The Vision of Escaflowne. Previously dubbed under the Bandai Entertainment/Ocean Group label, it was criticized for taking the beloved series and hack-editing it for television. I can’t say much about the acting, having never seen it, but I do know one of its biggest changes, aside from the "90’s-esque" opening, was moving the focus of the story from one character to another. That alone should should clue you in. So to have a dub that promised to be faithful was promising for the uninitiated (like myself.) And with FUNimation’s crowdfunding goals being met and then some, it seemed like this was a go.
Currently, FUNimation's been listing their casting and directing for the dub. Again, I can’t say much about who they cast, I’m happy they even have one, but if you were to look at the casting call, well…this particular decision would be a point of contention:
Vic Mignogna as Folken Fanel.
For those who don’t know, Vic Mignogna has gained a reputation lately, and not a good one. While the reports and rumours can’t all be verified, Vic has been called a creeper, a pervert and an aggressor, harassing his fans and causing his fellow VAs to not want to work with him. He’s been touted as whiny, hard to work with and all-around unpleasant. While these allegations are nothing new, he’s been divisive for years, the recent allegations of also being homophobic have caused outcry from the anime community and open boycotts of his work. So to see him listed in The Vision of Escaflowne as the main antagonist has made many people unhappy.
Where do I stand? Well, it’s tough. I’m not one to discredit any claims against Vic, regardless of any real truth, but that doesn’t mean I’ll automatically discredit the dub because he’s in it. For one, I don’t hate his work. I don’t think he’s fantastic, but he’s voiced characters in some of my favourite shows. I honestly think, for example, that his performances as Edward Elric and Tamaki Suoh in Fullmetal Alchemist and Ouran High School Host Club were some of his best, with both standing out because of his presence.
On that note, I’m not opposed to Vic Mignogna voicing a villain. He’s done so before, see RahXephon, so this isn't that much of stretch. Is it ideal casting? Maybe not. Could he have been picked for a different role? Probably. But I’m game because, honestly, he might surprise us!
Besides, I’ve been surprised before by dub castings. Remember when Bryce Papenbrook was announced as Eren Jaeger in Attack on Titan? Remember how people were taken aback by this, claiming that he “can’t act” and that he’d “ruin the dub with his presence”? Remember how that turned out to not be true? Remember how his performance was actually serviceable? How is it any different with Vic Mignogna, a veteran VA, being cast as Folken Fanel?
I think we forget that a bad performance isn’t always the fault of the actor or actress, but sometimes the director. Star Wars Ep. II: Attack of the Clones and Star Wars: The Clone Wars both had Daniel Logan as a young Boba Fett, yet the difference in the performances were night and day; the former, being a George Lucas Prequel film, had Logan sounding awkward and out-of-place due to bad directing and line-reading. The latter, however, was a vocal performance under the guiding hand of Dave Filoni, and the end-result was infinitely superior. You simply wouldn’t be able to tell it’s the same person because of the actor’s age difference.
People are also forgetting that an actor or actress can be talented and still be awful/contrarian in real-life. I like Mark Ruffalo as an actor, even though I think he frequently looks at the Israeli-Palestinian conflict with tunnel vision. Marlin Brando was frequently cited as being a nightmare to work with because of his ego, and yet he’s regarded as one of the greatest actors ever. Even Gwyneth Paltrow and Natalie Portman, both annoying for different reasons, are incredibly talented actress with Oscars under their belts. And lest we forget Quentin Tarantino, Hollywood’s biggest cry-baby? Yeah, how many good movies is he responsible for?
Remember, acting is a strange and quirky industry. It, therefore, attracts plenty of strange and quirky individuals. And some can be really nasty and/or difficult to work with. That doesn’t mean they all are, but a good chunk are probably more controversial than we realize. We simply don’t see or hear about it because it’s not deemed “relevant”.
Which leads back to Vic Mignogna: we may never know if he’s as awful as he’s been touted, but it doesn't matter. Or it shouldn’t matter nearly as much as it does. Because he’s talented, helps garner attention and has proven himself on multiple occasions. Getting upset over his casting, even if it’s a miscasting, simply because it’s Vic is childish. You don’t have to like him, or even agree with his behaviour, but the backlash isn’t warranted if it means losing a potentially solid performance.
Not to mention, boycotting The Vision of Escaflowne over one actor means hurting the other actors and actresses. Like it or not, boycotts hurt the workers more than the companies, and FUNimation Entertainment is run almost entirely by VAs. By boycotting The Vision of Escaflowne, there’s no doubt FUNimation will survive, but you’d be robbing these VAs of a potential paycheque. And the anime dubbing industry is bleeding enough from piracy and lack of real interest/competition, so is that really fair?
Sufficed to say, I’m incredibly excited for The Vision of Escaflowne’s new dub. Like Yuri Bear Storm, it’s a chance to experience something from a part of the anime world that I’ve never experienced. Except this time, unlike Yuri Bear Storm, it’s not a new show, but an old show being redone. I only hope it lives up to its reputation. Or, rather, I hope I can watch it without FUNimation’s video player lagging every 3-5 minutes. (Seriously, you’ve updated your site HOW many times? Fix your streaming service, dammit!)
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EDITOR'S NOTE: Vic's attitude towards queer characters and women has been pretty infamous for the past few years. Zach's argument is just one take on this, and I allowed it to be published because this isn't a defense of Vic's actions and behavior.
However, you also have the absolute right to be disgusted with the man and not want him to act in dubs. Make no mistake, Vic Mignogna is a pretty obnoxious and troubling person in this industry, and it's perfectly understandable to not want him to be a major face in the western dubbing industry scene. It's not unlike having some of gaming's biggest names being sexist dude-bros. Like, they aren't being criminal, but they reflect on us. And that's shitty.
Anyway, FUNimation Entertainment recently announced that they were re-dubbing the 90’s series The Vision of Escaflowne. Previously dubbed under the Bandai Entertainment/Ocean Group label, it was criticized for taking the beloved series and hack-editing it for television. I can’t say much about the acting, having never seen it, but I do know one of its biggest changes, aside from the "90’s-esque" opening, was moving the focus of the story from one character to another. That alone should should clue you in. So to have a dub that promised to be faithful was promising for the uninitiated (like myself.) And with FUNimation’s crowdfunding goals being met and then some, it seemed like this was a go.
Currently, FUNimation's been listing their casting and directing for the dub. Again, I can’t say much about who they cast, I’m happy they even have one, but if you were to look at the casting call, well…this particular decision would be a point of contention:
Vic Mignogna as Folken Fanel.
For those who don’t know, Vic Mignogna has gained a reputation lately, and not a good one. While the reports and rumours can’t all be verified, Vic has been called a creeper, a pervert and an aggressor, harassing his fans and causing his fellow VAs to not want to work with him. He’s been touted as whiny, hard to work with and all-around unpleasant. While these allegations are nothing new, he’s been divisive for years, the recent allegations of also being homophobic have caused outcry from the anime community and open boycotts of his work. So to see him listed in The Vision of Escaflowne as the main antagonist has made many people unhappy.
Where do I stand? Well, it’s tough. I’m not one to discredit any claims against Vic, regardless of any real truth, but that doesn’t mean I’ll automatically discredit the dub because he’s in it. For one, I don’t hate his work. I don’t think he’s fantastic, but he’s voiced characters in some of my favourite shows. I honestly think, for example, that his performances as Edward Elric and Tamaki Suoh in Fullmetal Alchemist and Ouran High School Host Club were some of his best, with both standing out because of his presence.
On that note, I’m not opposed to Vic Mignogna voicing a villain. He’s done so before, see RahXephon, so this isn't that much of stretch. Is it ideal casting? Maybe not. Could he have been picked for a different role? Probably. But I’m game because, honestly, he might surprise us!
Besides, I’ve been surprised before by dub castings. Remember when Bryce Papenbrook was announced as Eren Jaeger in Attack on Titan? Remember how people were taken aback by this, claiming that he “can’t act” and that he’d “ruin the dub with his presence”? Remember how that turned out to not be true? Remember how his performance was actually serviceable? How is it any different with Vic Mignogna, a veteran VA, being cast as Folken Fanel?
I think we forget that a bad performance isn’t always the fault of the actor or actress, but sometimes the director. Star Wars Ep. II: Attack of the Clones and Star Wars: The Clone Wars both had Daniel Logan as a young Boba Fett, yet the difference in the performances were night and day; the former, being a George Lucas Prequel film, had Logan sounding awkward and out-of-place due to bad directing and line-reading. The latter, however, was a vocal performance under the guiding hand of Dave Filoni, and the end-result was infinitely superior. You simply wouldn’t be able to tell it’s the same person because of the actor’s age difference.
People are also forgetting that an actor or actress can be talented and still be awful/contrarian in real-life. I like Mark Ruffalo as an actor, even though I think he frequently looks at the Israeli-Palestinian conflict with tunnel vision. Marlin Brando was frequently cited as being a nightmare to work with because of his ego, and yet he’s regarded as one of the greatest actors ever. Even Gwyneth Paltrow and Natalie Portman, both annoying for different reasons, are incredibly talented actress with Oscars under their belts. And lest we forget Quentin Tarantino, Hollywood’s biggest cry-baby? Yeah, how many good movies is he responsible for?
Remember, acting is a strange and quirky industry. It, therefore, attracts plenty of strange and quirky individuals. And some can be really nasty and/or difficult to work with. That doesn’t mean they all are, but a good chunk are probably more controversial than we realize. We simply don’t see or hear about it because it’s not deemed “relevant”.
Which leads back to Vic Mignogna: we may never know if he’s as awful as he’s been touted, but it doesn't matter. Or it shouldn’t matter nearly as much as it does. Because he’s talented, helps garner attention and has proven himself on multiple occasions. Getting upset over his casting, even if it’s a miscasting, simply because it’s Vic is childish. You don’t have to like him, or even agree with his behaviour, but the backlash isn’t warranted if it means losing a potentially solid performance.
Not to mention, boycotting The Vision of Escaflowne over one actor means hurting the other actors and actresses. Like it or not, boycotts hurt the workers more than the companies, and FUNimation Entertainment is run almost entirely by VAs. By boycotting The Vision of Escaflowne, there’s no doubt FUNimation will survive, but you’d be robbing these VAs of a potential paycheque. And the anime dubbing industry is bleeding enough from piracy and lack of real interest/competition, so is that really fair?
Sufficed to say, I’m incredibly excited for The Vision of Escaflowne’s new dub. Like Yuri Bear Storm, it’s a chance to experience something from a part of the anime world that I’ve never experienced. Except this time, unlike Yuri Bear Storm, it’s not a new show, but an old show being redone. I only hope it lives up to its reputation. Or, rather, I hope I can watch it without FUNimation’s video player lagging every 3-5 minutes. (Seriously, you’ve updated your site HOW many times? Fix your streaming service, dammit!)
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EDITOR'S NOTE: Vic's attitude towards queer characters and women has been pretty infamous for the past few years. Zach's argument is just one take on this, and I allowed it to be published because this isn't a defense of Vic's actions and behavior.
However, you also have the absolute right to be disgusted with the man and not want him to act in dubs. Make no mistake, Vic Mignogna is a pretty obnoxious and troubling person in this industry, and it's perfectly understandable to not want him to be a major face in the western dubbing industry scene. It's not unlike having some of gaming's biggest names being sexist dude-bros. Like, they aren't being criminal, but they reflect on us. And that's shitty.
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Heavy Storms 013: Fractale
Jonathan, David, and Stephanie look back at Fractale, a series once predicted to be the savior of anime, but turned out to be a series of stories that can be roughly summed up as "old man yells at cloud." Sci-fi as it was always meant to be. Talks of terrorism, sexual assault, and wacky hyjinks commence as Jonathan gets actual mad again.
Click the title card to listen to the episode.
Click the title card to listen to the episode.
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