Hige vs. Otaku

There was a point-and-click adventure game released around 2001 called The Longest Journey. It had pretty glorious prerendered backgrounds and somewhat awkward 3D characters models and quickly became one of my all time favourite games ever made. Its lead character was fantastic (female, normal sized tits, rational head on shoulders), its narrative was complex and rewarding (also: dragons, everywhere) and the cast were excellently realised in terms of both writing and voice acting.

You can imagine my excitement when a sequel, named Dreamfall, was announced and subsequently released. Expectations were high of course, but I wasn’t unreasonable about it. A new protagonist dampened a lot of my fantasising, forcing me to accept that the creators intended to move the concept forward rather than indulge the fans. It helped me learn that this is the sign of the a good sequel; one that builds upon the series strengths and actively explores every possibility within its world instead of resting on its laurels.

Dreamfall turned out to be something of a big sweaty dickslap to the face. It had many problems (technical mostly) but the biggest for me was its abject brutality to the locations/characters of its predecessor. We get what initially appears to be fanservice with the return of April Ryan, the original protagonist, but she was darker, more disillusioned. Things had gone horribly wrong for her in the interim and she had completely lost her way and she’s not the same girl we fell in love with. Equally, locations from the first game were revisited but everything had gone to absolute shitsville. Ravaged by drugs and crime, a mildly dystopian setting offset by its affable community of people had descended into something perversely awful and intentionally upsetting.

I’m the last person to criticise a no-punches-pulled policy to storytelling – I would do exactly the same thing if I had the opportunity. Where I would differ is to not try so damn hard to separate the new from the old with an active interest in upsetting the fanbase. There’s a difference between forging a new path and incinerating everything in your wake.

(Yes, I am thumping my desk in outrage as I write this blog. A letter to the Telegraph is forthcoming.)

Now you’re obviously smart enough to notice the longwinded parallel I’m drawing here and Darker than Black II isn’t as nasty to its fans as Dreamfall was. But I’ve got the fear that they’re both treading a very similar path, and a very particular fact remains: motherfuckers killed April. Not only did they kill her, but they set her up as a genuine member of the supporting cast – and set her up fantastically – only to snatch it away in one swift wire-thingy to the throat. I can see the bigger picture here, don’t get me wrong, how her death might affect certain characters’ motivations and how it was a broader sacrifice – but I’m not going to lie about the impact of seeing her glassy death stare at the start of episode two and what it seemed to communicate. It smacked of a director/writer wanting to make a point.

The whingy fanboy hysteria was further exacerbated by seeing a particular red-collared cat lying corpse-like in the snow, but we’ve since learnt that was misleading.

I know, I know: all this is ultimately jumping the gun (such is my wont to do with episodic blogging). I’m sure all is not what it seems and getting all flighty about dramatic twists is a waste of time. It also gives the wrong impression: I am actually enjoying the second series of Darker than Black an awful lot. It has an excellent tone and feels a well-considered direction for the series. I just hope we, the fans, won’t be smacked about too brutally in the process.

Chicks with guns in turmoil? Now there’s a twist. Initially Revvy fulfills everything about the male wank fantasy: aggressively masculine, acrobatically violent, nihilistically badass. I started watching Black Lagoon with a tentative shrug, thinking it seems nicely made and reliably entertaining – probably won’t change my life, but sometimes meathead action shows done well really hit the spot.

Then we get a rather interesting scene. After a whacky run-in with some thinly-valed Neo Nazis Revvy and Rock, initially an ineffectual fish-out-of-water protagonist, find themselves in a sunken Nazi u-boat waxing philosophical about the nature of human value systems. During this conversation Revvy suddenly jumps from gun-toting arse-candy to a bleakly thoughtful existentialist. What she says won’t rock the worlds of anyone who has read a Wikipedia article on the subject, but in the context of the show it was quite a shock. We actually get some qualification for her amorally violent tendencies and, damn, character development for an archetype otherwise shallowly reserved for Awesome Action Sequences and not much else.

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Revolutionary Girl Utena represents everything I thought I despised about anime. Almost to the point of exaggeration, which is ironic because it’s the exaggeration in anime that I hate the most. The melodrama, the tweeness, the utter campness of it all. Utena takes notes from everything I can’t stand (particularly about shojo) and succeeds in such a way that, by virtue of being so conspicuously not me, I love it all the more. So let me tell you something you probably already know: Revolutionary Girl Utena is fundamental to any anime fan, regardless of their tastes. It sits firm in the canon with Evangelion, Cowboy Bebop, Escaflowne et al as something even a passing fan of the medium has to see. I mean, personally, it was worth it just to get all those FLCL references that had otherwise alluded me.

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Owen, ever the Machiavellian puppet-master of the anime blogging community, has kicked off another ramshackle community event by asking a number of bloggers to watch (or indeed rewatch) Darker than Black and then talk about it. The method? Two episodes a day for thirteen days and write about it however you see fit. The intention? To watch the series as it was intended – as two episode story arcs rather than singular episodes, thus preserving the pacing and getting the most out of what is actually quite a sophisticated show. It’s also been two years since it originally aired, during one of the best anime seasons in recent memory, so it’s half-experiment, half-celebration. Kind of puts all the recent dross we’ve had to contend with in startling perspective, eh?

The way I’m contributing is by adding a chunk of text onto Owen’s episodic blogs. I’d originally intended to provide wee quotes, alternative angles on points made by Owen, but they’re basically just mini-blog entries tacked onto the end of his posts. My role in this event is much like Owen’s; we’re documenting how our attitudes have changed in two years as well as noting how rewatching an anime (particularly a BONES anime, I’ve found) can shed all sorts of new light on what it’s trying to do and say. Owen and myself had very different opinions on DtB when it first ran – I loved parts of it but had serious issue with the tangential storylines whereas Owen was a frenzied mess of fanboyism, near incapable of writing a coherent blog because the urge to fap gave him the tremors. We’re older now, and we’re watching the show in a much more reasonable way. You can read our ruminations over at Cruel Angel Theses (we’re currently up to episodes 3 – 4) and we’re running on a daily schedule. It’s worth it just to witness me blog in a frequent and consistent fashion. Quite the phenomenon.

While we’re on the subject of watching and rewatching, I recently sat down with Mamoru Oshii’s latest animated feature The Sky Crawlers, which was not the philosophical clusterfuck I was expecting. In fact, it was an incredibly ambient experience up to the two-thirds mark. Everything explodes somewhat after that point – we get characterisation, plot development, intrigue, excitement – but the nothing that comes before it has a very strange charm. That alienating Oshii vibe is bubbling beneath the surface but it’s nowhere as acute as with his previous films. I think the constant blue skies and lush scenery gave it a serene feeling that stands out against his usual decaying cyberpunk aesthetics, and it works in a difficult-to-grab-hold-of sort of way. It turns out to be a Lain-styled non-reality where everything is fixed to continue on an infinite loop, which is where the textbook Oshii headfuck comes in, but superficially it’s not as unnerving as his usual output.

This infinite loop is what draws Sky Crawlers into the ‘watch and rewatch’ theme of this post. After the credits finish rolling there’s another scene that plays out almost identically to the start of the film; to the point where I thought the video had looped over and started again. Then the Production I.G. logo popped up and I was left with a very upsetting thought. All of these characters were expendable. The deceased would be replaced with exact copies of their prior selves only with none of the memories. Those who survived had to live on and suffer with their memories and experiences with the prior incarnation as the new one stands before them completely ignorant. The cycle continues on and during the film we merely witness one of these repetitions. After realising this I wanted to rewatch the film immediately. I wanted to see it again with this vital bit of understanding so I could appreciate the eerie feeling that had previously confused me and finally grasp the behaviour of some of the cast. The Sky Crawlers is really a film that has to be watched twice in a row to understand as a whole. It’s a very perplexing but very exciting experience.

I’ll start by stating what I felt throughout the whole of Xam’d: Lost Memories: what a sublime piece of work this is. Everything from the presentation to the writing was notably excellent. It swept with an epic, seamless verve that very few anime manage to pull off and it’s wholly down to the high standard of every constituent part. This wouldn’t be a frenzy of hyperbole if I couldn’t reel off at least one of these superlative zomgzomgs, but Xam’d is one of the very few anime I’ve seen where I’ve sat back and thought, Christ, that’s some good writing.

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It’s funny, so many of my animu blogging brethren (init) are getting exasperated about how much they love Eve no Jikan when, personally, I’m finding it nigh-impossible to express how much I’m enjoying Detroit Metal City. Like, for serious guys. I watch a few episodes and I’m gob-smacked. Completely dumbfounded. The best reaction I can muster is to plan how I’m going to introduce this tour de force of offensiveness to my filthy goth friends (of which I have numerous). The fact that I live in Glasgow makes DMC’s copious use of the c-word just all the more perfect. Although I’ve always sworn like a motherfucker the c-bomb has remained sacred and employed only when necessary. Until I came to Scotland, that is. Now I drop it so frequently in casual conversation that I actively worry about going home in case I let slip in front of my mother. Needless to say, this anime is practically handcrafted for the majority of my friends. Not since Honey & Clover have I ever felt this eager to show my generally anime-phobic chums something of the animated persuasion. Yes, not since Honey & Clover. How bizarre is that?

But there’s obviously more to DMC than the initial shock value of its foul language. I love its laconic exposé on the reality of these obnoxiously stylised acts. It takes the notion of ‘everyone has a mother’ and pushes it to hilariously cutting extremes. I also identify somewhat with the schism Negishi faces between his musical tastes and those he associates with. Most of my friends are the aforementioned goths who would legitimately enjoy DMC’s music. Obviously not so much the lyrics, of which they’d enjoy in the same self-mocking way I do, but the music isn’t too far removed from what I hear before a night out with my nearest and dearest. And yet I’m as indie as you can get without broaching Insufferable Wank territory. Negishi actually mentions Cornelius at one point and I sat there aghast, pointing at the screen in recognition. I’m not saying I’m all about Swedish pop music or anything – I do actually partake in metal diversions when something interesting comes along – but I can’t deny a slight twinge of identification with the boy. The animation style, too, is fantastic. I was initially a little unnerved by the heavy use of borders but Studio 4°C obviously have a vision in mind with the aesthetics and I’ve grown to love it. There’s also a certain superflat element to them that I really appreciate. So yeah, DMC is this year’s Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei. Only with more rape gags. So many more wonderful, wonderful rape gags.

I also managed to find a Michiko to Hatchin release that didn’t rape my computer in a horrible Krauser II-like fashion. I enjoyed the experience but can see the show becoming needlessly overrated by the community. It’s no Cowboy Bebop, that’s for sure. I got none of the sophisticated storytelling jollies from it as I did from Bebop, nor could I ignore how much it pandered to us, the white-ass crackers of the West. It seemed like a fairly tepid attempt to recreate that genre-striding filmic quality of Bebop though ultimately came off too contrived with none of the meaty substance. I agree with Bateszi that the torture suffered by Hana was very difficult to watch, thus successful in one sense, and I felt a bit of satisfaction when she broke free of it, but it could’ve been more acute, more gratifying. The concept of Michiko to Hatchin reminds me a lot of the manga Bambi and her Pink Gun, only with none of its fantastic anarchy. And seeing as it’s aimed at us, the violence-loving, gun-toting arseholes of the world, there seems to be an overt degree of restraint to it. If you’re going to be so obvious in who your target market is at least go completely nuts with it and show no restraint. Michiko to Hatchin is obviously a highly polished anime with a lot of financial weight behind it, so why not follow through with a punch that doesn’t feel so frustratingly pulled?

Wow, I’m surprised how similar Kaiba got to Evangelion (specifically, End of Evangelion) in its final episodes. The collective consciousness of the Kaiba plant and how it represented a sort of desperate salvation for some of the cast; the covertly omnipotent mother who watches and protects the main character; that serenely apocalyptic final scene where everything seems to have been reset. I’m not saying Kaiba cribbed massively from Evangelion, nor did it misuse what it did ‘borrow’ (not in the slightest), but some of the parallels are difficult to ignore. Nonetheless, Kaiba maintained its own unique vision, offering a completely individual experience, and cooked up a pretty phenomenal finale. How could I be disappointed with a show that gave me all I wanted and more regarding one of my favourite animal sidekicks ever? Today’s lesson learnt: don’t fuck with the mothers, else they will reincarnate as green space ostriches and mess you up.

In the words of Daisy from Spaced, it’s been ups and downs, ups and downs, ups and downs. Only with fewer drug-fuelled pub sessions and more hectic post-graduation real life bitch slaps. Things are much better now, mind you. I have a job, an overdraft extension and the Internet. It just got a bit dicey there for a few weeks. But frankly who gives a toss. Let us discuss animu.

I feel my rewatching of Haibane Renmei requires a brief word. Yes, I was one of the poor simple fools that discarded it after the first four episodes (DVD volume one), but I’m willing to reassess such misdirected dismissal when enough people shit their pants about a show. Haibane Renmei seems to inspire such affection, and now I’ve seen the whole thing in succession I completely understand why . Reki is perhaps one of the best-realised characters I’ve yet to see in an anime. I’m talking Misato levels of accomplishment here. I know, there’s an obvious theme developing in my love for certain beauteous raven-haired train wrecks, but Reki is a worthy addition (I’m expecting big things from XamD’s Ishu, too, and not just a cheeky flash of her monstrous tits). I loved how understated the show was in making Reki its true protagonist, that it was really her story we were following. Rakka was our vehicle of experience but Reki was the heart and soul, the real weight and depth of the show. Not to devalue Rakka’s importance, though – her existential crisis down the well stands out as my favourite episode and one that concerns itself almost solely with her. It didn’t hurt that it reminded me of Murakami’s A Wind-up Bird Chronicle either, but the comparison is likely superficial as slight gusts of wind remind me of the author (yes, fanboyism shares many parallels with schizophrenia). The one big shame about Haibane was its second-rate animation quality. Yoshitoshi ABe’s artwork deserves nothing less than reverential respect – especially when the material is so personal – and bar the final episode Haibane’s visuals didn’t do him, or his vision, enough justice. It was adequate, but could’ve been something truly special with a bigger budget. All in all, though, my opinion of the show has been greatly improved. Still a little unsure of the Dennou Coil comparisons but on its own merits I officially concede that Haibane Renmei is Special.

In terms of new stuff XamD is the only show I’ve been following with any vigour. This being a BONES show we shan’t waste time swooning on how masterfully consistent it all is, but I will say zomgwtfawesomepie. Not since Last Exile have I been so wrapped up in an adventure sci-fi show like this, and XamD may even peg that particular benchmark by not losing its shit two-thirds in and maintain, y’know, coherent characterisation. It’s still early days of course but my faith in BONES is much less questionable than my faith in Gonzo. I will say I’m getting on a whole lot better with XamD than I did/am with Eureka Seven. Outrageous as this may be to some folk, I find Eureka Seven quite hard going and have more aborted attempts to watch it than I care to mention. Its merits are self-evident as they often are with BONES shows, but I can’t resolve myself with what a tedious shonen cock Renton is and that its aesthetic style reminds me a little too much of Mighty Morphing Power Rangers. Both XamD’s protagonist and visuals appeal to me much more. There just seems to be an underlying sense of maturity to XamD whereas Eureka Seven placated its shonen audiences explicitly. Plus I’m always fascinated by anime that touches on the issue of divorce. It seems so rare for any kind of Japanese fiction not to celebrate domesticity, the power of the family and other such suspiciously socialist things, that when something considers the process of a home falling apart it genuinely sticks out. With XamD particularly it grounds the otherwise high sci-fi conceptualising in reality and makes its already accomplished human characters all the more fascinating. Let’s just ignore the blatant, uh, homages to other shows in much of its design and say I’m having a thoroughly good time watching. A ripping good time if you’re feeling fancy.

Anyhow, that’s enough clumsy non-sequiturs for now. I’ve got a backlog the size of my arm and I want to write at least a few words on Kaiba when I finally get around to watching the last three episodes. I probably won’t episode blog anymore due to time constraints and real life mayhem, but I’ll certainly knock out something akin to this post on a regular basis to keep things ticking over.

First, props are due to the wealth of coverage Kaiba is getting in the ‘sphere lately. Not only is the attention surprising (though wholly deserved) but impressive, too. This is why left-field anime shouldn’t be feared; it’s not out to rape your mind and make you feel stupid (like Mike Tyson with a First from Cambridge). It makes beautiful and intelligent things happen.

So, seeing as I’m hopelessly slow with my coverage of the show, I’m going to use Mike and itsubun’s recent postings on this episode as points of reference. Both consider different elements while tapping into the general consensus well, and direct acknowledgment avoids any shifty acts of plagiarism. I guess those coat tails are just little too inviting when you’re slow on the uptake.

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Kaiba’s third episode is testament to the strength of the show’s core themes and ideas. Chroniko’s story of naive devotion to her aunt-cum-adoptive-mother and the subsequent betrayal of this devotion is startlingly affective considering its brevity. It drives home the disposability of physical bodies in the universe of Kaiba and subsequently how this disposability has royally fucked its value system – all within a very short but intensely moving story arc.

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