Errinundra's Anime

It starts of with a breathtaking scene of buildings toppling domino style in Shanghai then moves into an aerial sequence amongst the skyscrapers of a future Roppongi Hills district of Tokyo. Among the other great set pieces are a B2 attack and nuclear destruction of Dubai and a disarming of an ICBM as it flies over Europe and North America. In between these brilliant sequences are the usual Kenji Kamiyama lengthy spoken expositions and altogether too easily obtained answers to plot conundrums. But, really, everything is just an excuse for the 3D visual pyrotechnics that are easily worth the admission price. Full marks to Kamiyama keeping the over-the-top gleefully destructive tone of the two 1960s films, Cyborg 009 and Cyborg 009 and the Monster Wars. Like the end of the Kamiyama’s Eden of the East TV series, 009 Re:Cyborg leaves many of the central questions unanswered: it's a frustrating tease, leaving the way open for a sequel.

Extended review

Tetsuro is mostly an observer so there was little tension to keep me interested. He has done his growing up already so there's also no sense of him experiencing a right of passage. The Leijiverse heroes make their obligatory appearance as do a smattering of new characters but the encounters mostly come across as random adventures rather than valuable life lessons. The interventions of Emeraldas and Harlock are as contrived as ever but the mythic feel of the original is mostly absent.

Still, Maetel and Tetsuro are great characters so all is not lost. Kathleen Barr and Saffron Henderson, respectively, continue their fine work. One thing: the design and posture of Maetel comes across as slightly wooden compared with the earlier movie. I don't think the issue is the acting but, rather, it eminates from Japan.

I'm coming to the conclusion that Rintaro isn't much of a director. I think he fluked something special with Galaxy Express 999.

Review

Review

Extended review; revisit

Extended review

Review

Everybody in the world of Angel Beats! is dead. If you are killed you spring back to life shortly afterwards (if that makes sense). The characters inhabit a sort of purgatory and must come to terms with their previous truncated and traumatic lives before passing on. It's a premise that allows for copious, and often brilliant, black humour.

Nevertheless, it’s the three lead characters and the emotive way their tale unfolds that make this series special. Leader of the Afterlife Battlefront (SSS from the Japanese initials), Yuri Nakamura, is reminiscent of Haruhi Suzumiya in both appearance and character but more complex, if not quite so over-the-top. She has an innate understanding of the other students and how to motivate them, along with an inexhaustible well of protectiveness. Her judgement is usually acute and decisive even if she is as irascible as a mule and as sly as a fox. It takes rather longer to appreciate the qualities of Tachibana Kanade (just savour the rhythm of that name), or Tenshi (“Angel”) as most of the students call her. As the SSS’s enemy and being the archetype of the quiet, set upon girl, there isn’t much opportunity at first to see inside her mind. As she and Otonashi get to know each other better, her observant, astute and kindly nature comes to the fore. The relationship between the two is entirely natural seeming in the way it grows - a credit to the deft writing of Jun Maeda. The lead male, Yuzuri Otonashi may be hapless at first but that's only because of his ignorance concerning the rules of the game. Mild mannered and generous, he is the perfect foil to Yuri and the perfect match for Kanade. It is Otonashi who has the wit to understand what Kanade is trying to tell people and then to convince them to follow her wisdom.

Because a person’s presence in the world of Angel Beats! is linked to their experiences in their previous life, considerable time is spent on individual backstories. In some instances, the events are so horrible they stretch credibility. I suppose it could be argued that extreme trauma is a key selection criterion for entry into that strange universe. All the same, beyond the three leads the rest of the cast are generally single trait characters, although Yui the genki girl is quite a treat.

The premise may be crazy but the series culminates in one of the best emotional pay-offs I’ve yet experienced in anime. The final episode is both bitter and sweet and when the significance of the anime’s title is revealed in the penultimate scene… well, just have a box of tissues handy.

Extended review; second visit

Review

Review

Review

The problem is that, with one possible exception, the six Super Peace Busters are all pretty much stock anime character types. To an extent that's fine: each is entertaining; they are handsomely drawn and animated; and they have clearly delineated characters with regrets and passions. Despite this, an air of unreality hovers over them. Why? Because they lack a realistically complex inner life. I didn't commit to them emotionally. I laughed at them. I even shed tears for them. But I didn't laugh or cry with them. To compensate for the lack of connection, it had to resort to emotional contrivances, such as the "mass hysteria effect" where more and more characters shed more and more tears in the hope of inducing a corresponding reaction in the viewer.

The character that showed signs of breaking her particular mould was tsundere Anaru (she with the gravity defying twin tails). Perhaps it was simply that I felt sorry for her. She had a raw and earthy sensuality that I found unusual for anime. Even though she was arguably less emotionally stable than the others, I always felt there was more going on in her head.

Visually the series is a treat. The backgrounds are beautiful and the characters are, as I've said, handsome. They all have expressive faces. Menma only needs to lower head a little, look up slightly and smile wistfully to melt your heart. Anaru only needs a slow camera pan along her legs. (If ever there was an anime that overdoses on thigh fanservice, this is it.)

Favourite moment? Easily, in the end credits when the music stops momentarily and the descending grey flowers change direction and turn to orange and pink. Such a simple effect and so affective.

Extended review

Review

Extended review

For sure, Aria continues to move at a leisurely pace, but that has the paradoxical effect of creating a sense of grandeur that is hard to explain by the simplicity of its individual parts and by the absence of any serious conflict. It is an immersive world that seductively draws the viewer into its secret places. One minor complaint. In this season only, in profile the characters appear to have a pronounced underbite, creating a petulant and goofy look.

The series abandons the magical elements of the previous two seasons and loses nothing by it. Instead we get something new: drama. For sure, it's not earth shattering stuff. Will the three apprentices realise their dreams and become Primas? How will their lives change if they do? What will become of the three Great Water Fairies? By this time, I had come to know the six characters so well, with all their lovable traits and forgivable shortcomings, that I cared enough about the outcome to be thoroughly moved by the unfolding drama. As the series concludes each character has moved forward with her life. It's bittersweet in that some things will be lost but there is an unrelenting optimism that even more has been gained. That's what change is all about, says Aria: embrace it and appreciate it. Yes, again I admit it can be corny, but it works a treat. One of the reasons it gets away with the preachiness is that it never takes itself too seriously. The messages are mostly delivered goofily and, more often than not, Aika lightens the mood with a typical admonishment, such as "No sappy lines allowed!"

One thing the final season does keep is the wider aspect and painterly style of the OVA. Thankfully it brings the characters' facial profiles back on model. It also maintains the first two seasons' sense of wonder. The vision of the wisteria in the flooded convent is, for me, the most sublime such moment in the franchise. And then there's the last episode, a coda where everything is turned on its head but somehow makes perfect sense. The final revelation of who the new apprentice is ends the franchise on a perfect note. No unresolved final chords for this Aria.

Aria franchise review

Review

Extended review

Extended review

Review

What is good about Attack on Titan is the visceral pleasure to be obtained from the action scenes. Actually, I don't mean that literally - I could do without the gore - but the movement and the perspectives and the stunts are a treat to watch.

Review

Review

The rebuilt from scrap cybog, Gally, is a great character, combining innocence with deadly fighting skills and flowing moves. Sometimes she comes across as altogether too goofy sweet but that's easily forgivable. Ida, her rescuer and rebuilder, didn't have enough time to convince me that his various character aspects made sense as a whole. Gally's love interest, Yugo, seemed a nice enough kid until he assaulted someone in order to steal their spine. That's a pretty evil thing for a nice young lad to do. (As someone in the OAV declares: "If you're not careful, people will steal the back from under your shirt".) The character designs could certainly do with some updating while the futuristic delapidated look could look great with today's CGI technology. All the same it's a good looking and fascinating tale.

Review (scroll down)

Review

Review

What is lost is that the minor characters are glossed over: Judeau, Pippin and Corkus barely appear. It's a cost I'm happy to wear. Among other characters the Midland king and his brother, Julius, come across as unpleasant, though I suppose the latter is supposed to. Charlotte is a disaster - the moment she opens her mouth the movie shoots itself in the foot. It's a girly voice in the most inappropriate and grating way. The problem is exacerbated by the three leads having an older, more mature feel about them than they have in the TV series. I think that is a good thing. Griffith, in particular, seems much more ambiguous at this point of the story than before. (I wonder if it's simply that this time, I know what his pact with the behelit entails.) There's also a couple of gags having a poke at his campy design. Casca is more believably a seasoned warrior but she does lose some of the elfin nature that made her so appealing previously.

The characters appear to be fully CG and have the problem I've noticed with similarly produced films - the movements are so smooth and regular that they sometime seem unnatural. It happened in Appleseed and to some extent in The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya. At other times this film is as good as anything I've ever seen. Generally, the fight choreography is brilliant, although, in some of the battle scenes, the NPC combatants too often gave the impresson of being iterations of the same narrow set of elements, rather than independently moving and individual designed. Having said all that, it is still fantastic to look at. It may lack the expressionism of the hand painted backgrounds of the original but the detail is a marvel to behold.

Review

Yes, Blade of the Immortal ends after just thirteen episodes in the middle of a story arc. Nevertheless, there is still much to enjoy about it. Like the best Kouichi Mashimo anime, it's the interactions between the major characters (in this case, between Rin and Manji) that provide the greatest rewards for the viewer, not the short bursts of violent action, not the impressive artwork and not the appropriately intense soundtrack from Kou Otani. Putting two mismatched characters together is a common technique in any dramatic art form, but something more is happening here. The two are drawn to each other for reasons they can't comprehend. She wonders about the possibities that would be afforded to her if she were immortal; he wonders where she gets her motivation from. Thanks to the other each finds a direction in their life.

Like the more recent Hyouge Mono (and Mashimo's work in general) the artwork can be breathtaking at times (TV Tropes rates him second only to Makoto Shinkai for scenery porn) while any expensive animation is kept to a minimum by having the, usually violent, action scenes short and sharp. The blood and gore can be graphic but, being animated, is never off-putting. Unlike his restraint in Hyouge Mono, Kou Otani's soundtrack is intrusive and, at times, jarring with its jazzy disonances. I think it's entirely appropriate.

From the moment Makie Otono-Tachibana appears in episode 9 the series takes off. For 4½ episodes there is a terrific discourse on revenge and mercy, immortality and death, presented in a series of compelling vignettes. However, an uncertain start, some altogether too-shounen villains and an abrupt ending reduce Blade of the Immortal to mediocrity.

Extended review (scroll down)

Review

Review

Review

Review

Review

Review

For a film with pretensions to grandeur it is surprisingly mundane in execution at times (possibly due to budget limitations) and some of the dramatic scenes fall flat. In one death scene the "dead" character unexpectedly lifts her head and starts talking before having the good grace to finally expire properly. It came across as quite odd. These failings are more than compensated by other dramatic scenes that work well and some stunning vistas and sound effects. The film didn't flinch from the presenting the cruelties of life, including those inflicted upon children and women. Nevertheless, it faithfully captures the optimism that is such an essential element of any Tezuka work. The source material is so rich and so extraordinary that even a ham-fisted portrayal would have some merit. This version is much better than that but sometimes falls short of what it may have been.

I liked Rin's and Daikichi's journey together through the series. Initially they are outcasts (with Rin decidedly more on the fringe of the extended family) but their relationship brings out the best qualities of each and, in doing so, they find themselves interacting more normally with their community. The journey back to community is sweet although the final destination is somewhat mundane. The best scenes are mostly early in the series although the most memorable takes place in episode eight when Daikichi encourages Rin's mother to secretly watch Rin paying her respects at her father's (and his grandfather's) grave.

Extended review

Equally disappointing was the dearth of character development or interesting relationships. The hero, Kimimaro, could (and should) have been far more ambiguous. Had the writers had the courage to do so, they could have presented us with a much more disturbing scenario. If the relationships were drawn so they really mattered, then the losses that occur would have been far more moving. As it was, my reaction to the victims of the dealing was cerebral rather than emotional.

Kimimaro's relationships with his alluring asset, Mashu, and his schoolfriend, Hanabi, are woefully underdeveloped. I would love to see a serious treatment in anime of a sexual relationship between a human and an alien creature. What I’ve seen so far is either comedy fodder or, when taken seriously, such as Blue Submarine No. 6, the writers shy away from any risky exploration. In short, I wish Kimimaro had slept with Mashu. The writers could, alternatively or additionally, have pushed the friendship between Kimimaro and Hanabi. Just imagine the possibilities then if his dealing caused her to vanish.

Basically, this was a story with the possibility of lots of soul, but blew it badly.

Review

The show is always at its best when the eponymous Canaan is on screen. The way she looks and the way she moves are always a treat for the eyes. Better yet, I always appreciate characters that can convincingly portray opposites at once: Canaan is resilient and helpless; ruthless and full of doubt. Just as well, because none of the other characters live up to their potential.

This could have been a truly great anime if it the plot hadn’t been so piecemeal, and if the producers had ditched the unnecessary juvenile elements and given us a serious character driven thriller. As it is, it’s a beautifully animated action show with a memorable heroine and some brilliant set piece action sequences.

First visit (Japanese dub with English subtitles) (scroll down); Revisit (English dub)

Review

Review

Review

Review

In episode 15 Chihaya loses a climactic match to her arch-rival, Shinobu. Thereafter Chihayafuru forsakes its most charming element - the emotional development of the principal characters - and becomes something else: a sports anime with a flimsy plot. Worse, the karuta games entirely lose their electricity. Even the once beautiful visuals decline: the face faults and deformations become more frequent while there is considerably less detail in the backgrounds or even in the characters themselves.

Despite all that, the series ends with so much more left to explore. If the type of lapses evident in the last third can be avoided then a further series would be something to look forward to.

Extended review (scroll down)

Extended review

Review

Lurking inside every girls with guns heroine is a psychopath and implicit in that is the struggle for her human nature to prevail. Here it is much more explicit: the women can literally turn into demons if they become excessively violent. The power of Claymore lies in how Clare cares for Raki and preserves her human nature in the process. Similarly, the pact between the partially awakened claymores (Miria, Helen, Deneve and Clare), Irene’s gift of her arm, and Clare’s, later to be reciprocated, rescue of Jean give proceedings a resonance you wouldn’t expect in an anime with many shonen elements.

Set against these notions of redemption is revenge. The overarching plot line of the anime is Clare’s quest to avenge the death of her own mother figure by claymore turned demon, Priscilla. It takes Raki’s love and Jean’s sacrifice to bring Clare back from the brink of the abyss and enables her to repudiate revenge as a solution. The down side of Clare’s choice to reject revenge is that the final battle between Clare and Priscilla falls flat. Not only because it is indifferently choreographed, not only because the previous battle was so riveting, but also because pulling out of a fight voluntarily is hard to portray dramatically and the makers don’t manage it here. Nevertheless, Jean’s actions in particular bring the scene to a satisfying and moving finale.

One of the many delights to be savoured is the star-studded line-up of women, mostly speaking in their lowest register and, with something like 30 or 40 claymores, listening was a pleasure all on its own.

Claymore could have done with more development of Raki and cut back on the shonen aspects of the fight scenes but it’s so refreshing to watch a serious anime without schoolgirls that isn’t afraid to kill off major characters.

Extended review

Review

Review

Part of the Short Peace anthology series - review of anthology (scroll down).

The title is a reference to the preferred reading material of the elf king / black swordsman. (Thanks, Calathan.)

Part of the Deep Imagination anthology series - review of anthology.

Review

Review

Review

The strengths of Crest of the Stars lie in its clever humour, its sharp story telling and its great characters, especially the women. Lafiel, the Abh princess (pictured left), is initially icy (although I like that trait in a female character) but that stems more from her sense of failure and her wariness towards an unfamiliar male, her co-protagonist Jinto. She soon demonstrates her capabilities as a pilot, then her Abh ferocity when crossed, and, finally, her appreciation of the everyday capabilities that Jinto possesses and that she lacks almost entirely. They make a good team.

Lafiel's first commanding officer, Captain Lexshue, has probably the most poignant and tragically ironic role in the series. Her courage and strength of character are highlights of the series. Even more memorable is Rear Admiral Spoor, who puts everyone else in the shade the the moment she appears. There's a cruelty about her that is captivating because it is so gleeful, so witty and so unerringly skewers her victims - in particular her executive officer whom she toys with unmercifully. Her tactical nouse is so second nature that, even when the threat of annihilation is it at its most intense, her greatest problem is dealing with overwhelming boredom.

Crest of the Stars is serious fun, notable for some great story telling and an ironic sense of humour, but most of all, for its endearing characters. For an adventure come space opera it has a central pair that readily gain our affection and, in her few appearances, in Spoor has one of the most singular characters in anime. Shame about the character designs, though.

Extended review

The last two episodes suddenly throw in tragic back stories for both Yune and Claude. Not only could I have handled another 13 episodes of honey but those past events could have been developed at a more leisurely pace. As it is, the tragedies feel contrived, much the way I feel with similar events in the Clannad franchise.

Review

Revisit

Review

Review

Review

Review of both this film and Monster Wars.

Review

Daicon III Review: so-so

Daicon IV Review: very good

The most memorable character is a secondary one: the literary girl. Most episodes have one sketch devoted to her and her love interest Hidenori. The poor girl gets herself into the most diabolically humiliating situations but her sheer doggedness will win you over. How the relationship between her and Hidenori is resolved in the last few minutes of the series is as magical as it is unexpected. A bit like the show, really.

On the down side, although Daily Lives starts out with a fresh approach to high school comedy it quickly settles into a formula of its own. After the first episode it rarely pushes the good taste envelope any further, or develops its good ideas (literary girl excepted). It also veers into some misogynistic territory with its constant portrayal of girls as simultaneously stupid, terrifying and humiliated.

Extended review

There are hints of Oshii's unique vision but it mostly lacks his otherworldly, contemplative moments that I love so much. Think of the Major wandering the canals in the first Ghost in the Shell movie, or the Detective Matsui's exploration of the deserted, crumbling streets in the first Patlabor movie. In Dallos you get glimpses in the portentous images of the head of Dallos and in the final scenes depicting Shun's trip by lunar hovercraft so his grandfather can get one last view of earth. The bitter irony as Shun stands among the tombstones with the earth above is pure Oshii but there's almost two hours of dross before you get there.

Extended review

Review

Review

Review

Dennou Coil could be described the spiritual child of the cyberpunk Serial Experiments Lain, although the "punk" part of the equation has been almost totally denatured. Even though it lacks Lain's attitude and weirdness, it is more emotionally engaging. The mysteries are somewhat easier to unravel and, unlike Lain, it doesn't rely on its strangeness for its appeal.

Pushing the drama along are the three remarkable girls: Yasako ("kind child") who cares deeply for her friends and has vague memories of something terrible happening to her in the cyberworld when she was younger; Isako ("brave child") who is wise beyond her years and who is desperate to bring her brother back from the "other side"; and Fumie, an imp prepared to take on anybody or anything but who goes weak at the knees at the merest hint of a scary story. The best word to describe them is "plucky". The have courage in spades and, consequently, it's impossible not to care for them. None of the three are static - one of the many pleasures of Dennou Coil is how they grow in maturity over the course of the story.

Other characters cannot match those three but, whatever their level of complexity, one memorable feature of Dennou Coil is the enormous range of facial expressions that all the children have. I've never seen a television anime to match it. Not only is there a vast, and often subtle, array of emotions being displayed but, during conversations, the expressions change continuously. And it's all done with the simplest alterations in their facial features. Character designs otherwise are straightforward, albeit unusual for modern day anime.

The concepts involved in the augmented reality and in its glasses interface are fascinating. It relies on the same leap of faith as Serial Experiments Lain - that our consciousness can be directly linked to the cyberworld. It also relies on the same fallacy that underpins many a cyberpunk scenario - the Cartesian belief that our consciousness is separate from our body and thus conceivably can move into other spaces. Of course, this is no more a leap in faith than alchemy in Full Metal Alchemist, or the mushi in Mushi-Shi or faster than light travel in many another sci-fi tale. Accepting the premise allows the viewer to immerse themselves in the pleasure of the storytelling. And there are many pleasures to be had in Dennou Coil.

Listen out for the grim Shostakovichian motif - D-E♭-C-B – used when there are sudden dramatic changes in mood.

Extended review

Review

Review

Review

Review

Review

Full review

I thought it was less adventurous than the series but more emotionally involving. It might not be surprising how much anxiety the absence of Haruhi caused Kyon, but I was surprised how strongly I felt about it. The sympathy the series invokes for its principal characters is quite notable, even if sometimes the drive for exploiting dramatic possibilities stretches the credibility of the narrative. It's a bit long and it depends on knowledge of the two TV seasons to fully appreciate some of the time travel implications and some of the gags.

Review

Review

Review

Review

Review

Review

Review

What Durarara!! lacks is the crazy, unstoppable forward momentum of Baccano!. It falters in the slasher arc and, as the more eccentric characters - especially Celty - take backseat roles, the show must rely on the three central student characters, Mikado, Masaomi and Anri. While their story is compelling, they don't have the eccentricities of the others and, well, they're juveniles and, thus, no match for the best adult characters of the two series.

Revisit (scroll down)

The protagonist - the amnesiac Akira Takizawa - has a charismatic personality, although it takes a couple of episodes to grasp his worthy intentions and a little longer to appreciate his strength of character. The point of view character - cutesy Saki Morimi - has little bearing on the story, other than to speak glowingly of the protagonist and express her faith in his trustworthiness when everyone else doubts him. She could be written out of the story without any significant change to the central premise and plot. Her role seems little more than ornamental but it fails even on that count because of her drab character design. Hers is not the only unappealing design. Director Kenji Kamiyama collaborated with Honey and Clover mangaka Chika Umino and the result is the unwelcome face faults and sentimental designs of Honey and Clover TV series. Chika Umino's character designs sit uncomfortably in Kenji Kamiyama's photo-realistic world.

In the tradition of Kamiyama’s own Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex productions, the plot thrives on unexpected developments and astounding reveals. Kamiyama isn’t afraid to think big – the future of Japan is at stake here – but the villains aren’t your typical fare and the heroes – including 20,000 naked NEETS – even less so. The big bad, Mr Outside, even has the grace to refrain from making an appearance – he may even be dead – a sure way to make him seem especially sinister. The series ends with the immediate threat defused but leaves plenty of mysteries to be dealt with in the subsequent movies.

Revisit, including commentary on other releases in the franchise

Other than these developments along with some back story on Takizawa (which becomes more meaningful in the next movie) there isn't a lot else interesting going on in King of Eden. Putting Takizawa back in America (and losing his memories to boot) seem like a ploy inserted just to give the movie some initial momentum of its own and to create an emotional crisis for Saki. Both are remedied easily and in no way progress the important elements of the plot. If I were cynical I'd say the movie's primary function was to milk the popularity of the series.

Extended review

Review

Part of the Deep Imagination anthology series - review of anthology.

Review

Review

Review

The rip-snorting action of the opening and closing sequences have more in common with Gurren Lagann, what with all the explosions and corny stunts, than the original Neon Genesis Evangelion. There never was much philosophical substance to the franchise so if the producers wanted to up the ante I suppose the only way to go is the bigger and bigger explosions route. For all the noise and colour it was, in a word, boring. It's empty and silly and, this time, not even the action sequences could save it.

Extended review

Review

Review

Review

Review

Part of the Short Peace anthology series - review of anthology (scroll down).

The lame introduction of zombies; and two poorly conceived and written confrontations – Kiritsugu and his father / Aoi Tohsaka and Kariya Matou - dangerously stretched credibility in a show that has so many fantastical elements that care needed to be exercised lest things become absurd.

For all that, the penultimate episode is superb. The Grail's temptation of Kiritsugu was one of the highlights of the entire series although some events in the episode did seem rushed (and even truncated). Perhaps they will be rectified on the disk releases. I also appreciated how the final episode tied up most of the loose ends while the final scenes with both Kiritsugu and Sabre were outstanding.

Oddly enough Fate / Zero enhances Fate / Stay Night. Whereas the prequel could be regarded as the tragedy of Sabre and Kiritsugu (even though Kiritsugu comes through with new ideals to guide him), the older series can now be seen as the redemption of Sabre. Because of his role in that process, it also helps give Shirow more depth in Fate / Stay Night than I had credited him with previously.

Review

Extended review

Against all that, the inconclusive ending and three pathologically silly main characters brought the series down. And, while I liked the the mood created by the slow pace I found the development of the story inconsequential, although there were some very powerful moments. Like several others here I find myself ambilvalent about it as a package.

Review

The film can also be hit and miss in its dramatic flow. The extended opening of Umi preparing breakfast for her grandmother, her brother and sister and the boarders is pure delight in its detail, its activity, and how it establishes Umi's character. The crowd scenes at Umi's school, especially Shun's daredevil stunt from the school roof and the mass meetings in the clubhouse, are written crisply and humorously. The downside is that, like their unexpressive faces, the scenes between Umi and Shun come across as perfunctory. This isn't helped by the way the story moves along in fits and starts, interspersed with some attractive, extended visual tableaux. The developments of the couple becoming acquainted, falling in love, discovering their familial relationship, then learning the truth are never explored or explicated in sufficient detail to make them seem important. As a result the resolution comes across as way too pat. The parallel story of the campaign to save the clubhouse is also hit and miss. The student politicking is marvellously entertaining while the visit to the school chairman's business premises creates some tension missing elsewhere in the film. It's undermined, however, by an outcome that, like the romance thread, resolves the conflict way, way too easily.

Extended review

Despite being thirteen episodes longer, all episodes lead to the conclusion, unlike the numerous episodes in the first season that could easily be excised. It is also more economical in its storytelling so that it doesn't dwell too long in its more mundane moments, although it does mean that the more emotional parts of the tale seem rushed. When all is said and done, though, FMB is about the fighting and that's pretty much all the last fifteen or twenty episodes are - one fight after another. They rapidly became a chore for me to get through.

There is no doubt that in one crucial aspect FMB kills FMA - it resolves the story in a highly satisfactory way, allowing FMB to follow up with a equally satisfying coda, detailing what happened afterwards to the principal characters. All the same it lacks FMA's stupendous revelation about what lies beyond the Gate. Who the brothers finally meet in FMB is a terrible letdown by comparison.

Extended review

Review

Review

Young Tetsuro is travelling on the famous train to the planet of Great Andromeda, seeking a mechanical body so he can kill Count Mecha to avenge the death of his mother. Success seems unlikely but the gods and the fates are watching out for Tetsuro: the deus ex machina is hard at work. Help in the form of various intergalactic notables unfailingly pops up in timely fashion, getting him out of jams, giving him a handy tool, or providing the answer to a thorny problem. Captain Harlock, pirate queen Emeraldas, Tochiro and Antares are among the larger than life heroes who come to Tetsuro’s aid. These contrived internventions aren’t the problem they might be in an ordinary anime. This is not an adventure story about dramatic scrapes. It’s about the education of a young man who, through each encounter, learns about desire, loss and generosity. The lessons learned will hold him in good stead when he faces much harder tests.

Journeying with him is Maetel, who has an agenda of her own. At once beautiful and authoritative, wise yet vaguely menacing, melancholy yet kindly, she has immediately become one of my favourite characters in anime. Acting as a sort of surrogate mother to Tetsuro (something more true than he first imagines) she seems to bear the weight of the world on her shoulders. Well, she does in a sense, as the viewer learns at the end of the rail journey.

All the female characters have a sadness about them, even the commanding Emeraldas. Is this typical for Leiji Matsumoto? They are each unforgettable: Shadow, the machine woman guarding the lovely body she abandoned, or Claire, who was forced to exchange her flesh for transparent crystal, or Ryuzu, the singer who took on machine form at the request of her lover. Their exquisite, wispy forms perfectly reflect their wistful natures.

The combination of grandeur and melancholy ensure I have a continuous emotional engagement while watching Galaxy Express 999. It’s all in the mythical power of a journey undertaken by two special characters that becomes a metaphor for life with all its joy and regrets.

Further comment

Review

Review

Review

Review

Part of the Short Peace anthology series - review of anthology (scroll down).

I've never yet seen a worthwhile or vaguely realistic Type-Moon villain. It's as if they have an irresistible urge to turn all villains into caricatures, turning drama into theatre and, too frequently, even into melodrama. Plot-wise, Garden of Sinners is a dishonest series, in that the jumbled sequence of events (the chronological order of the films is 2, 4, parts of 7, 3, 1, 5, 6, the rest of 7) doesn't play any pomo games the way the first season of The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya does. Nor does it provide multiple viewpoints to examine the characters the way Millennium Actress does. But, then Garden of Sinners isn't in their class. The jumbled order serves mainly to hide from the viewer crucial plot developments, that characters within the story are fully aware, in order to enhance the apparent mystery. In other words much of the mystery is faked. It also serves to spread the most interesting developments between Shiki and Kokutou across the franchise.

In spite of all this, the mood and the imagery of the series and the character of Shiki have wormed their way into my imagination and won't go away. The main theme is constantly playing in my head. Not that I'm complaining - it's lovely.

Extended review

Another plus is that the film is only 46 minutes long. Short Shinkai is good Shinkai: he can be drearily self-indulgent at times. The Garden of Words is poignant, to the point and never overstays its welcome. Although, when we finally learn Yukino's actual profession and how it connects to Takao, the film's lyricism is suddenly replaced by a rather more everyday prose but all is forgiven when the two lovers finally embrace – another first for Shinkai. That said, he still can't give us a decent female character. As she herself admits, Yukino is "saved" by Takao. That's right. Once again the Shinkai woman is the object of the male's protection. He is developing his craft and pushing his boundaries but this is one boundary he really needs to crash through before his films can be genuinely counted as great.

Extended review

Review

Review

Review

Review

The film can be divided into two halves: life on Shikotan (in the Kurils) before and after the arrival of the Soviets; and what happens after the eviction - set mainly on Soviet Sakhalin, where Miyazawa wrote much of Night on the Galactic Railroad. For me, it was the first half that resonated the most. I was captivated by the life of the islanders, their reaction to the end of the war and the arrival of the Soviet troops. Despite their fearsome demeanour and reputation ("they kill bears with their hands") the Soviets are portrayed, if not entirely sympathetically, then without condemnation. We see all this through the innocent, ignorant eyes of the young Junpei. Which is weird, because the framing device is the older Junpei reminiscing. You would think some editorial commentary from the older man would intrude. In any case, the developing relationship between the Japanese and the Russians is, for the most part, entertaining (tempered by some disturbing developments). The friendship between Junpei and the Tanya, the commandants daughter, becomes a metaphor for what might have been.

From that point the film takes a darker, more emotionally fraught turn as Junpei and others travel by ship to Sakhalin where they face an uncertain future. A train journey to find Junpei's father in a Soviet prison camp makes the parallels with Miyazawa's tale even stronger and the outcome, for all its seeming inevitability, is still emotional, though not nearly as much as I expected. Whenever a sad story is required to carry a philisophical argument - yes, the South Kurils have been lost, but it's time to be strong and work hard for a happy future - I find that I'm detached from the emotion. That's not to say that the message isn't a worthy one, it's just that the message and the story are working against each other to an extent.

The artwork and animation are a curious mixture of styles. The blending of naturalism, artificiality and abstract expressionism matches the blending of the hard reality of the characters' lives with the fantasy of Night on the Galactic Railroad, although it's not always convincing.

Extended review

Review

Review

Regardless of the outcome, the film ends up being a paeon to militarism. If she lives, it’s because her warrior’s strength of will has overcome the greatest battle of her life; if she dies, and with the way the film approaches the crisis, then it becomes a romantic tribute to the soldier’s life. War is the greatest wrong that humans do. In war, even the winners are losers. Anime like Time Stranger promote the myth that militarism is a genuine solution to the problems of the world. Give me Martian Successor Nadesico or Irresponsible Captain Tylor any day. Compounding the problem, in one alarming sequence the six friends massacre hundreds of single-minded Islamic looking adversaries. Due to the absence of any qualifying point of view, the viewer can only accept what is happening at face value – it’s presented as exciting and adventurous, even fun.

Remi is an appealing character, yet she is oddly masculine. The men of the film, for their part, rarely manage to be more than their different manifestations of macho stereotypes, from samurai to soldier, from politician, to businessman. What makes each of them human, thankfully, is their shared love and respect for Remi.

Extended review

Victorique is a great comic character with her arch-intelligence, snappy one-liners and haughty self-confidence. Everything about her is so incongruous that it undermines all her attempts at gravitas. And, for all her pride, she really is quite helpless. Her reaction to receiving a flu injection is a priceless moment of comedy. I make these points in admiration, not criticism. Kujo is more mundane fare. He is a decent enough fellow and a good foil to Victorique but isn't anything outstanding, largely thanks to his obtuseness and by his comic role diminishing his character rather than enhancing it. Eventually the two form a strong bond that will be sorely tested before the series ends.

Some childish support characters and the equally childish designs for the two mains (although Victorique can be attractive in her various outfits) detract from the serious elements of the story, especially in later episodes. For, although the series starts off with a light tone, it changes gear midway and thereafter gets increasingly dark. The circumstances of Victorique's birth and the role that she is required to play turn out to have ramifications far beyond her library tower. Seemingly minor events from early in the series are revealed to have a much greater significance, culminating in a powerful series of climaxes in the last few episodes. And what finally becomes of the relationship between Victorique and Kujo is unexpectedly moving.

Thread comment; and more

Probably the most interesting character is the heterochromatic Urumi Kanzaki who retains enough evil traits after Onizuka rescues her to always leave me wondering what she might do next, and who metes out some satisfying rough justice to Onizuka and other deserving characters. That she is voiced by my favourite seiyuu, Kotono Mitsuishi, probably helps, even if she is closer to her Sailor Moon squawk than the gravelly voiced Jean from Claymore. Absolute highlight of the series happens when Onizuka agrees to step in temporarily for a missing bridegroom at a wedding. The impossibly sweet bride smiles at Onizuka, revealing a shark's maw, with the entire wedding party following suit. I couldn't believe my eyes at first. Full marks for that. The young man's image of commitment, I suppose.

Review

The appeal is much, much more than any “sad little girls with tragic backstories” trope. That trope is established to provide an element for something I think is altogether more sophisticated. The opening scenes aren’t about cuteness; the overwhelming sense is menace. Triela walking through a door with a trench gun and bayonet is signalling that something very odd is happening here. The unease continues throughout the series and the relentless hinting at violence by and against children and the paedophilic tease that hovers constantly create a sense of rottenness at the very core of the Social Welfare Agency and, by extension, the series itself. Thanks to some deft writing and an implied moral stance, the series never quite oversteps the limits of propriety. Hovering at that boundary is a large part of the pleasure.

At the core of the “Girls with Guns” trope is the phallic mother – the woman who replaces the male as the wielder of the phallus, metaphorically represented by the gun. In Gunslinger Girl this is up-ended; the girls are simply tools for the men. It’s a fascinating step forward in the genre, if a retreat for feminism (assuming that valorising the phallic mother is a positive, which is arguable, and also assuming that anime can ever be a flag waver for feminism, which is also contestable).

Extended response to other forum comments (scroll down)

I think the major difference is the approach the different studios and directors take to establishing and exploiting the contrast between the girls as objects of innocence and the violence of their backgrounds and their profession. In the newer series the makers are attempting to emphasise this contrast by exaggerating the apparent sweetness of the girls and by using a colour palette that embellishes this misleading view. The killing scenes and the off-handed callousness of the girls have a consequent greater impact. Well, that’s the hope, I suppose. Unfortunately, the unexciting direction undermines the intention. The original series, instead, chose to create a sense of unease, of menace, from the very beginning, discomforting the viewer and causing us to have misgivings about all the actions and relationships presented to us. That is its power.

The strengths of Il Teatrino lie in its overarching plot involving the terrorists Flanca, Franco, Pinnochio and Christiano, something that the first season entirely lacks, and in the development of those four antagonists. As Il Teatrino proceeds we learn how normal they are compared with the operatives of the Social Welfare Agency. They become more human as the girls and their handlers become more monstrous. So, in that sense, the Pinnochio arc is entirely successful.

The music is terrific. The incidental music lacks the variety of the first season but, what there is, enhances what is happening on screen. The OP theme is every bit the killer as its counterpart from the first season.

Simon went from snivelling weakling to being a one-man threat to the entire universe; Kamina spends much of his time extolling the virtues of suicide attacks; while Yoko was just a rack for hanging artillery upon.

There were things I liked about it, though. There are many memorable one-liners, I did like one or two of the more comical characters (Viral and Leeron come to mind) and the last few episodes amused me thanks to their visuals, weird science and even weirder arbitrary plot developments. By Gainax standards, however, the ending wasn’t the least bit disappointing, which was, paradoxically, disappointing. I also liked the incidental music. The best things, though, were the explosions. Yeah, I liked the explosions.

Extended review

On a technical level, the artwork and animation is often slipshod but that’s all right because it kind of fits the rustic, re-cycled nature of the haibane world. Indeed, the muted greens and browns give expression to the austere life of the haibane. Austere perhaps, but they aren’t unhappy. Kô Ôtani provides one of his best ever musical scores, using traditional instruments such as bodhrán, South American flute, harp, mandolin, mouth organ and squeezebox to enhance the folky, traditional feel of the series. The opener, Free Bird, is one of my all time favourites.

Extended review

Review

I really appreciated the full 26 episodes given to the story. Two contemporary series, somewhat similar in tone but just shy of half the episodes, Usagi Drop (though it is the better show) and La Croisée dans un Labyrinthe Étranger, both felt cut off at the knees in comparison. Hanasaku Iroha had few wasted episodes and no sense that more could have been said. Mind you, it's just crying out for a series following events after the re-opening of Kissisuo.

Review

Review

Review

The plot is formulaic, monster-of-the-week thin: a vampiric creature is discovered; the usual forces are unable to cope; the Hellsing organisation is on the brink of collapse; Alucard saves the day. I have to say, though, the scenes in the Tower of London were fascinating. Referencing Google Maps while they played out revealed the depiction to be very faithful.

Part of the Deep Imagination anthology series - review of anthology.

Review

Review

Review

Yukino and Arima are both given extensive family back-stories, enhancing their depth as characters. Both situations reveal how Yukino and Arima developed their dishonest personalities. Arima’s history is darker while Yukino has been blessed with a happier domestic environment, though not without its own trials. Yukino’s wise-for-their-age younger sisters, Tsukino and Kano, frequently steal the show while their voice actors provide hyperactive next episode previews. Indeed, when Anno is at the helm, each episode ends on a high – with those over-the-top previews and the simple but captivating roving camera live action EDs.

Extended review

The most notable trope of the series is unrequited love and, boy, does Honey and Cloverr trowel it on thick. Constant frustration of desire inevitably becomes tedious - not only for the sufferers, but also for the suffering viewer. Unsurprisingly, the series gets duller as it progresses. Happily it extricates itself from the mire during Takemoto's bicycle trip - my favourite segment - but that's only for three episodes (and right at the end).

For all this criticism, Honey and Clover, is humorous and clever and it's a pleasure to watch an anime with older characters and aiming for an audience older than high school age. I loved the visuals in the first version of the OP - especially the "saucy" knickers and the prawn fingers - but the singing grated badly on my ears. If not for the music I would rate as one of the best OPs I've ever seen. JC Staff's subsequent spiritual sibling, Nodame Contabile is a much more convincing and entertaining romantic comedy.

Extended review

Review

It’s well written and nicely paced (until the end), very pretty to look at, and the main female character – Hotaru – is sweetly observed. These qualities are spoiled by the emotive ending, not because it is emotive but because it is both predictable and rushed. Somehow it lacks the gravitas it should have.

Combining grotesquerie and beauty, the artwork happily departs from anime conventions and nicely evokes the Edo period. Because it so suggests that era, and because it captures a beauty amidst the ugliness, I think it surpasses the visual style of its noitaminA contemporary Tatami Galaxy.

It doesn't hurt that each episode starts with the beguiling song, Sign of Love:

Miwatasenai chizu ga aru
Tohou ni kureru hodo hiroku
Shiru koto akiramesou ni naru

The major problem is that Humanity Has Declined doesn’t have a real lot to say, and it takes its time in saying it. Two episodes may be spent making one small point, sort of like a shaggy dog story. The effect is rarely less than charming in a leisurely sort of way but only occasionally manages to be truly memorable. The seven story arcs unfold in roughly reverse chronological order, which seems to serve no other purpose than to follow the eccentric internal logic of the individual stories.

The colour palette is unusual for anime, with lots of oranges, greens and pale space. It’s also simultaneously luminous and washed-out, if that makes sense. Scenes often had a distracting series of faint rectangular haloes overlayed upon them that it could have done without. Nevertheless I liked the overall appearance, however the best that can be said for Humanity Has Declined is that it is diverting.

Review

Absurdity is the flip side of tragedy and Hyouge Mono revels in that contrast, played out through the military and political ambitions of the generals and the aesthetics of the tea ceremony (particularly the visual appeal of the various implements used). This play creates a sense of fatalism, that the machinations of these men are ultimately pointless. All the characters are absurd, no matter how grandiose or dignified or cunning they try to be. The writers and director subtly allow the viewer to see how pointless, how ridiculous and how dangerous it all is, highlighted by enthralling dialogues between the main characters, with all their undercurrents of threat, treachery, double-meanings and incitements. The series oozes irony, like no other anime I've ever seen. This isn't a show for adolescents (or adults who are adolescent at heart) who want their hormones excited. This is a witty and pitiless examination of the barely disguised brutality of the men competing for power in one of the most violent times in Japan's past. History tends to glorify the exploits of these men. Hyouge Mono gives them the merciless lampooning they arguably deserve even more.

At its core, Hyouge Mono is high tragedy in the classical Japanese or Greek or Shakespearean sense. At the centre of the tragedy is Sen no Rikyu, the classical tragic hero, whose flaw - hubris - leads him to destruction. The point of view character, Furuta, is a variation on the theme. While he isn't destroyed by his flaws, the death sentence given to Rikyu, whom he idolises as his hero, is his moment of crisis. Much of the power and poignancy of these crises for the two main characters comes because they are preceded by moments of clarity where Rikyu and Furuta reach new levels of self-awareness that give them a degree of contentment hitherto eluding them.

Hyouge Mono has the perfect director in Koichi Mashimo. It is as if he were born to direct this series. Not since The Irresponsible Captain Tylor in the early 90s has his penchant for absurdity been given such free rein. He has the ability to be simultaneously po-faced, over the top, and yet profound. Sure, there are the expected Mashimo lapses of judgement and times where I feel I'm just not getting the point but I never get the feeling he's just going through the motions so evident in El Cazador de la Bruja or the latter parts of Phantom ~ Requiem for the Phantom. For the first time since Noir it feels as if he is fully committed to the project. Like Noir and Phantom there is a powerful redemptive element to Hyouge Mono for, despite the terrible climax, the series ends on a hopeful note. The long night of horror gives way to a new dawn as Osen, his wife, watches two birds of prey circling above. One bird is caught silhouetted by the sun and the anime transforms the image into a beautiful enso painted on pottery in the Oribe-yaki style. Furuta Oribe has found his true voice. Two of the episodes of Mashimo's Blade of the Immortal contain similar stories about artists trying to find their voice. In Hyouge Mono Mashimo has found his.

Extended review of episodes 1-14

Extended review of episodes 15-25

Extended review of episodes 26-39

Review

Review

Like Martian Successor Nadesico, it is much more than simple parody. What it has, in spades, is emotional clout, thanks to its marvellous characters. You can add to that a heart of gold, thanks to its unceasing optimism and relentless ridiculing of all things military.

Everything revolves around Captain Justy Ueki Tylor. Even though he is a slacker in the finest anime tradition, I’ve never, ever encountered a character quite like him. Initially, he comes across as a complete dill. Everybody in the series has the same first impression accept, notably, two important Raalgons – the empress Azalyn and her loyal military prodigy Ru Baraba Dom. His own United Planet Space Force command don’t know what to make of him so they give him command of an old rustbucket, crewed by incompetents and misfits. They are sent to the most dangerous sector of the galaxy in the hope they are killed. Things aren’t helped when his own crew, to a man and woman, share the common view that he is an idiot. Tylor proceeds to win improbable battles, gain the loyalty of his crew, and steal the heart of the young Raalgon Empress. It climaxes when he is given command of the UPSF fleet and faces off against Ru Baraba Dom in one last epic confrontation. The outcome of the battle is unexpected, gripping, and utterly in keeping with the spirit of the anime. Is Tylor really the idiot we have been led to believe?

Other Koichi Mashimo trademarks include a colour palette and composition that varies from the pedestrian to the sublime, neon city designs and character designs typical of the 90s. It scrubs up pretty well given it was first aired in 1993. Sometimes with Mashimo I get the sense he is not fully engaged with his art, that he is merely going through the motions. The Irresponsible Captain Tylor has a freshness and enthusiasm that is infectious – as if everyone involved enjoyed themselves immensely.

Extended review

Review

In one of the three commentaries accompanying the film, Anthony Lucas (the director of The Mysterious Geographic Explorations of Jasper Morello) explains that animating the camera is about the most expensive thing you can attempt to do. But as another of the commentators (Philip Brophy, author of 100 Anime) points out, this sort of thing is impossible with live action cinema. The six-minute film took 29 months to produce and involved almost 4,000 fully painted cels. You can see that they have tried to make it as simple as they could but it’s still breathtaking to watch.

Now, you may think that this is just an esoteric, technical exercise. Believe me, it could be the most entertaining six minutes you can spend watching anime. The girl starts of by jumping up and down in a country laneway. Her first exaggerated leap is to avoid being run down by a car – immediately there’s a sense of danger, along with a sense of fun, setting the tone for the next six minutes. With each leap she lands amidst some vignette of life that we glimpse for a second or two before she continues – kids playing on a demolition site, a motorist being booked by a policeman, a would be suicide on a railway line, a naked woman sunbaking. At one stage the girl leaps a skyscraper in a single bound and, if you move the anime frame by frame, you can see events unfolding on each floor, including a cameo from R2D2 and C3PO.

This is a wonderful example of the technical merits, the structure and the narrative each reflecting each other: Osamu Tezuka’s ambitions, the jumping format and the escalating events. All aspects of the production enhance the others, adding to the overall effect. As Tezuka himself puts it in his own commentary to the film,

“You can’t keep jumping forever. But this one does and it can’t stop till it jumps into a nuclear explosion. It’s like mankind and its technology. They don’t know when to stop.”

The achingly sad, yearning opening theme sets the tone beautifully for this tale of memory and love and how each nourishes the other. Indeed I haven't seen another anime where the OP so powerfully dictates the mood of story. It's nicely complemented by the various renditions of The Tree Song that accompanies the more poignant moments. While the music is exceptional the artwork is more dubious. It seems director Masaaki Yuasa didn't have a huge budget to play with and it shows. Ever resourceful, however, he has adopted a bubbly, seemingly sloppy style that complements the emotive themes while softening the emotional and physical violence. Nevertheless the artwork can be annoying, especially in episode 5.

Despite its eccentric visual style, the story of Kaiba is most akin to cyberpunk science fiction in the tradition of Serial Experiments Lain, Ghost in the Shell or even Dennou Coil. Like them it relies on the Cartesian conceit of the separation of mind and body. That's fine - like much of anime, if you accept the premise the development is often exceptional, as it is here.

The series does have some structural issues, though. It begins immediately after some unexplained catastrophic event that has left Kaiba character with amnesia. Thereafter you get eight episodes of languid development as Masaaki Yuasa explores the implications of body and memory swapping followed by three episodes of rushed resolution.

But it's kind of understandable why things turned out this way. At their best the early episodes are more interesting than the final two. Episode 3 - Cronico's Boots - is quite simply one of the most magnificent episodes you may ever see in anime, approaching the field of flowers episode of Clannad After Story in its emotional impact but exceeding it in its savage irony. The episode heaps irony upon irony on top of its wrenching sadness. If you don't feel inclined to watch the entire series at least check out this particular episode. Another problem with the back to front plot structure is that numerous significant things happen in the first half of the series with the viewer having no inkling of their import. Two characters - Pal, the bubble-headed bird, and Kichi, the wheelchair-bound and button-eyed memory merchant - keep popping up unexpectedly with their seeming deus ex machina interventions. Their connection to Kaiba / Warp will become apparent late in the series. What all this does mean is that a second viewing is highly rewarding. Not only is the story much clearer but there is much pleasure to be found in the many things that seemed inconsequential or confusing first time around.

Extended review

Review

Review

Review

The visual style not only emphasises the absurdities but it also, paradoxically, compensates for them by being so refreshing and so entertaining. Yuasa's style is changeable, grotesque and very, very fluid. All outlines are highly unstable: solid objects take on a life of their own; faces are constantly mutating; and actions are always highly kinetic. I'd just about say that Yuasa has the best eye for motion of any anime director I know yet his means are always economical.

The downside of his stylistic contortions is that the viewer never forgets they are viewing artifice. This distancing meant that, by the final episode I wasn't really emotionally engaged by main characters. I mean, I wanted to know what would happen, but there was no sense of dread or grief or loss or victory or resolution. Add this to the abovementioned descent into absurdity and, to be honest, I didn't really care how it all turned out.

That said, another of the very refreshing things about Kemonozume is the adult cast of characters and, mostly, adult behaviour of those characters, notwithstanding Yuasa's almost juvenile glee in violence, gore and eroticism.

Extended review

Kick-Heart has created something of a buzz, being the first successful Kickstarter anime project. It's hard not to approach it hoping that it will be better than it ends up being. What's more, at only thirteen minutes long there's not a lot to consider - about half a dozen scenes, including two extended, visceral wrestling matches. It's place in the history of anime will probably outweigh its significance as animation but I'm chuffed something as eccentric as this got its moment in the limelight.

The two main threads – the jazz tinged friendship between Kaoru and Sentaro on the one hand, and the various romantic - never sit together comfortably. The series starts off as one thing (two friends exploring jazz) then spends most of the rest of the twelve episodes as something else (a josei tale of entangled love).Based on a josei manga it shouldn’t surprise that Kids on the Slope portrays the friendship and loves of two young men as a female audience might envisage them. The relationship between the feminine Kaoru and macho Sentaro could even be considered a chaste and restrained yaoi romance for a mainstream female audience. This isn’t a bad thing. Indeed, the friendship between the two young men is one of the richest I’ve seen in anime, with jazz as its metaphorical expression.

The female characters aren’t realised nearly as well. Ritsuko has a nondescript personality with an annoying voice and a character design that is initially unappealing. Even the most interesting ongoing female character, Yurika, subordinates her future to the man she loves.

The music is so good - another memorable Yoko Kanno effort - I just wish Kids on the Slope had explored it more. That and a female lead to match Kaoru and Sentaro and this could have been a masterpiece.

Extended review

Review

You can look it up on Yoshiura's Studio Rikka website - a google translated version of the page is here.

Review

Extended review of the two seasons

Haruto is a country boy who travels to Tokyo on a school excursion where he hopes to meet Eba with whom he is having a long distance relationship. Amongst his travelling classmates is an earlier flame, Nanami, who still harbours feelings for him. The first episode sets up the crisis; the second resolves it very sweetly. I found it a tad predictable but there's plenty of things to appreciate about it in any case. The artwork and animation are gorgeous, the characters are appealing, and the many small observations hit the spot perfectly. Best of all, the outcome is satisfying, even if the characters still have much more ahead of them. (I guess that's the point of the OAV: to get people buying the manga to find out what happens afterwards.)

In its atmosphere, colour palette and structure Kite reminds me strongly of the 1960s French film Le Samouraï about a precise, emotionless assassin in Paris. Interestingly, the plot of Le Samouraï strongly informs the John Woo film, The Killer, which, in turn, inspired the Koichi Mashimo “girls with guns” trilogy. The french film, itself, consciously follows the American film noir tradition and, besides, there's its name, of course. The journey from Japan and Hollywood to Paris to Hong Kong and back to Japan is a fascinationg one.

The OVA comes in three versions. The sex scenes in the completely uncut version disrupt the narrative flow and carefully wrought mood, while the standard version leaves out important elements that dilute the power of the director's vision. The Director's Cut should be the version of choice.

Extended review

Extended review

Review

As far as plot goes, Kurau: Phantom Memory is both episodic and, too often, relies upon convenient solutions to provide short cuts or resolve looming plot cul-de-sacs. These contrivances spoil an otherwise well-written script but I suppose you could say this is an emotional journey, rather than a more conventional action story. Thankfully, the two heroines are sufficiently appealing and their relationship so affecting that it isn't that great an issue. The grand, ecstatic emotional moments shared by the two make it all worthwhile. These big moments are enhanced by a musical score that gets better as the series progresses, while the science fiction setting, the colour palette and the character designs are all pleasing to the eye.

Extended review

Review

Part of the Neo Tokyo anthology series - review of anthology.

Another problem is that a genki girl, and that's basically what Fam starts out as, isn't appropriate as the main character of a space opera. Genki girls don't have much depth or staying power. True grandeur, and Fam the Silver Wing has pretensions towards the epic, should be played over a slow and steady beat. Because the rhythm of the series is way too fast, events pile up one after the other with no sense of development or import. The characters' motivations are opaque (because they lack depth) and too often their actions make little sense. Oddly enough, as Fam's genkiness declines, so does her significance in the unfolding events.

All these problems can be forgotten once the anime becomes airborne. The flying scenes and the aerial battles are breathtaking. The ships themselves, from the vespas to the battleships get the bulk of the creators' love and attention. Happily, Fam the Silver Wing is worth seeing just for the aerial pyrotechnics.

Review

Review

Review

The Australian release (part of the Tezuka: The Experimental Films collection) has an informative and entertaining commentary by Philip Brody that significantly enhanced my appreciation of what Tezuka was doing in the film.