My Hero Academia: Two Heroes premiered at Anime Expo 2018 and Anime Diet was on-site to review the film.
Fans of My Hero Academia were thrilled to hear of a movie coming out with more adventures of their favorite heroes. The events of the movie, billed in Japan as “revealing the secret past of a major character,” took place after the Final Exam arc of the TV series. From the official synopsis:
Deku and All Might receive an invitation from a certain person to go overseas to a giant artificial moving city called I-Island. This island, a kind of ”science Hollywood” that gathers the knowledge of scientists from around the world, is holding an exhibition called I-Expo showcasing the results of Quirk and hero item research. In the midst of all this, Deku meets a Quirkless girl named Melissa and remembers his own Quirkless past. Out of the blue, the impregnable security system the island boasts is hacked by villains, and all the people on the island are taken as hostages! Now, a plan that could shake hero society has been put into motion! The man who holds the key to it all is the number one hero and Symbol of Peace, All Might.
Familiar U.A. students had a chance to shine again in this My Hero Academia animated film. With an energizing soundtrack, visually pleasing and exhilarating fight sequences along with well-acted character voices, the movie was a solid and fun ride for the returning MHA fan. Live audience participation made the movie that much sweeter, as anyone who has been at a premiere with hundreds of screaming fans can attest. However, the pacing during the first half of the movie was slow and the overall storyline was not inventive.
It was apparent that writers for Studio BONES (known for Cowboy Bebop, Fullmetal Alchemist, and Soul Eater) were not trying to introduce any drastic changes in the movie, opting instead to play off the things that worked well for and made people love the series in the first place. All the classic elements of My Hero Academia stories were present: friendship, teamwork, sacrifices, moving beyond your limits, and even a somewhat unresolved redemption story.
Arguably, these conservative plot choices showcased the studio’s mastery of animation. Even in a fairly risk-free storytelling, there were surprises and delights. Production values remained high, with fight scenes remaining fluid and well paced, and decompression used to great effect. Many points of the movie moved the audience to cheer, laugh out loud and even experience the “feels”.
My Hero Academia: Two Heroes is a must watch for the die-hard MHA fan. Those new to the MHA universe may wish to watch other parts of the series first, to build a connection to the characters and appreciate the significance of certain events when watching the movie.
Well over twenty four hours since it landed, and I remain in that rare place. A place where something one remembers in fragments, but is jolted back by a newly formed memory. A refrain of an old poem, now enhanced by a long delayed echo. And yet we have been here before throughout numerous iterations. Just as a story is capable of ending its run of flickering across the screen, so too are our absolutes as to what happened after. Such is the miracle convergence of Shinichiro Watanabe(Cowboy Bebop/Space Dandy)’s fifteen minute bridge short, Blade Runner Blackout 2022. A short, but clearly one made with deep reverence, Blackout, portrays an event that came not too long after aged Blade Runner(a state backed assassin of humanoid slaves), Deckard, has disappeared with his last target in tow.
The event as it is portrayed in nonlinear fashion, involves a large scale terrorist attack against the global human technological infrastructure. By way of setting off a missile enabled EMP blast, the aim of a pair of renegade Replicants(Of the 8th Nexus generation. The previous we have been privy to were the 6th.) with the help of a lone human collaborator, seek to send the human race into a darkness long enough to destroy vital records as to their existence. This while the human world has grown wildly intolerant of Replicant technology, opting to enable an even worse breed of death squad. We are given a glimpse into just how terrible things have become since 2019 Los Angeles, where we are introduced to Trixie (A pleasure model Replicant), and Iggy (a former military grade model). Swiftly reunited, and ready to strike a blow against the race that created them.
Rounding out the trio involved, we are briefly introduced to Ren, a sympathetic human with great antipathy for his kind. In a moment that plays like a mildly perverse rendition of Priss and JF Sebastian from the original, we’re left pretty sure that he is to be the main trigger person for the Replicants’ plan. We are also given a window into the moment of Iggy’s awakening. While off-world, and in combat with an unnamed enemy, his discovery instantly turns the imposing humanoid into a resolute force of rebellion. Knowing full well that Trixie and he, while perhaps not long for this world due to manufacturer’s insurance in a brief lifespan, remain eager to live whatever life they choose. Almost indistinguishable from humans, save for their right eyes, plans seem primed and ready for liberation.
Needless to say, the presentation remains as impeccably realized for a Watanabe work. But what is truly extraordinary in comparison to previously produced anime shorts based upon existing western properties, this one feels like a dream project for so many animators whom I’ve grown to love. And the end product sings in a chorus of sight and sound poetics that feel less creatively strained than anything sold on the same shelf as The Matrix Trilogy, or Batman. It feels both utterly reverent to the seminal original film, yet with just enough flair and energy to fuel an entire feature. Among the incredible talent assembled, Shukou Murase (Ergo Proxy, Witch Hunter Robin), Hiroyuki Okiura (Ghost In The Shell), Shinya Ohira(Redline), Mitsuo Iso (Denno Coil), and Shinji Aramaki (Megazone 23 III), and others, it is almost like witnessing lifelong rock band fans at last allowed to share the stage with their inspiration. It’s a supergroup effort that only left me wanting more. Suddenly, two weeks feels like eternity.
But what we were able to get, is both gorgeous to the senses, yet also propulsive in helping set up Denis Villeneuve’s upcoming follow-up. Everything in Blackout, feels truly authentic, and honest to the events of the original Blade Runner, which remains to this day, one of the most impactful cinematic experiences of my viewing life. Heck. I’d go so far as to comment that without Blade Runner, so many of my interests(and this includes anime/manga) would never have materialized. So to witness Ridley Scott’s landmark of science fiction worldbuilding, at last merge with a generation of artists I have grown to love as an over thirty year result, is cause for celebration.
– And yes, that is the voice of a certain cast member, reprising a personal favorite role. Man, that was great.
In the race for anime box office domination (a race largely reserved for studios, and the occasional anime industry wonk), the unexpected can often be the most telling barometer of where art and commerce are currently merging. A dance that can often illustrate, befuddle, depress, and justify. But after finally stepping from the dark, and mulling about Makoto Shinkai’s runaway blockbuster, I am again reminded that sentiment, no matter how awkward, can be a powerful force for escapism. Adding to my still controversial relationship with the auteur’s output, the sentiment exuded in often bizarre increments by Your Name, remains a concentrated reminder that for all one’s diet for japanese animation, it takes a specific openness to quirk to overcome what has become something of a signature. Your Name, while the most standard across the surface of Shinkai’s work, stands as a veritable carnival of his best and worst tendencies.
Taking the term, En Media Res to it’s most most absurd conclusion, Shinkai throws us into the plot with all the swift-cut ferocity of an anime television teaser.(Seriously. This is a film with not one- but two segues into anime television opening montages.) City boy, Taki(Ryunosuke Kamiki) awakens, but something isn’t right. His body is swollen in some strange places, his home is now in the sticks, and he has no idea how he got there. Meanwhile, country girl, Mitsuha (Mone Kamishiraishi) is again occupying the body of a young high school boy with a yen for architecture, a crush at work, and some perplexed buddies. Especially in regards to his ability to suddenly talk with girls, and needlepoint. Both sides of this 1980s style body-switch scenario are taking in that both kids are indeed acting strangely, and that they seemed rather out of sorts the previous day. To both Taki and Mitsuha, there are no clues as to what is causing this, but handy mobile phone blog apps are providing clues to these bodies they are forcibly borrowing, and the confusion they’re causing. But can either of them ever permanently retain their respective bodies again? What kind of irrational hocus pocus is behind this shared affliction? And will Shinkai ever be able to maintain a cohesive narrative without falling back to his safe zone – the wistful, longing voice-over?
Without spoiling too much, the film does come at the audience fast and with greater energy than is common for the filmmaker’s more glacial speed. We are quickly granted glimpses into the lives of our protagonists, and their respective backgrounds. Especially true of Mitsuha, who’s father abandoned the family business of priesthood for township mayor, in a town with only a few friends, no real hangouts, save for their idea of a cafe, which is a rural bench near a coffee vending machine. These moments are endearing, but are often too brief to properly absorb. And while we do get a little background on Taki, his background does feel the real end of the shrift. He is well-to-do Japanese city boy, which is an archetype that is never given any proper background outside of the occasional crush. The film is often too busy to marinate, which is strange for Shinkai, who attempts to get out of his safer first gear, only to imitate a teen with a new car; endless stops, starts, and sudden leaps forward. Your Name, never seems to find a footing until the third act, in which case finds itself in a pacing quagmire that threatens to render the film numbing.
There are the expected sentimental images of dynamic skies, a reverence for tranquil nature, and a yearning for some form of grounded meaning amongst youthful recollection. Like the last twenty years of anime, there is a neverending nod toward some nebulous past that drives Shinkai’s work that echoes a cross between Anno and perhaps even the often forgotten Tomomi Mochizuki, but lacking in the same complexity. His works often feel like an echo rather than a spark, and with Your Name, there is this ever growing sense of the familiar that reeks of everything that has come before, without a terrible amount of freshness. Even as the film attempts to reconcile the plight of our heroes with the cosmic, and the musubi threads that bind us together, the notion never truly finds a place to be properly absorbed. The notion in a story is vital, but like proper sun and moisture, it becomes hard to effectively feel anything that is to be felt. We can gawk all we want, but to truly feel, that is at the heart of what it is to come away from a work forever changed. Which is why it’s one thing to talk about that feeling, and actually experiencing a sensation. Your Name, spends a lot of time trying so hard to obtain this, yet never allows the reins to its world, allowing viewers to take in more than a pat ideal about connection and resonance. By the end, I had no real understanding why these characters would or should find resonance with each other beyond the confines of the story.
It’s a gorgeous film for sure. It’s just too bad that for all it’s greater aspirations, the final piece never finds comfort in prolonged immersion with these charming characters. Every time a gag begins to work, the narrative grinds gears once again, skipping pertinent information that would be better explored in clearly animated terms. Very often, all we get are the occasional line explaining what happened. As if apologizing for a scene that simply had no time to be made. As a result, the film feels helplessly incomplete.
If the goal was to treat humans as proxies for collated data, we could easily watch Ghost In The Shell, but what Your Name implies within the premise, never runs further than skin deep. And if this is what passes for a complete entertainment experience, I’m quite curious about what it is they are seeing. Because for me, I see a grand missed opportunity to tell a tale of better understanding one another via cosmic circumstances. Which still feels like a goal worth exploring. Maybe five more films will be the charm?
Everything Is A Remix, as the touted video series suggests. Not unlike how favorite music finds itself warped into a virtually endless number of permutations, bound by the creativity of the remix artist. There are even times when some actually surpass the radio friendly original. But very often, some works find themselves coming up short. Often bearing the idiosyncracies of the remixer, and not enough to connect on levels that the original might have. Which is often what many condemn as a culture of rehashed filler, often forgetting that some of the most notable works in any medium are but well-executed paeans to other successful creations. This is a long way of saying that for all the bluster and excitement over Tetsuro Araki’s expensive Kotetsujou No Kabaneri (Kabaneri Of The Iron Fortress), is closer in execution to a soulless dancefloor killer 7″, than a populist blockbuster.
Written by Code Geass’s Ichiro Okouchi, and helmed by none other than Tetsuro Araki, Kabaneri is the largely noisy saga of a small population of steampunk latter-edo era nobles and peasants as they struggle to survive a ferocious existential threat. The threat coming in the form of virtually unstoppable zombielikes known as Kabaneri. A threat that has forced much of Japan to forge communities of high-walled steel, all bound together via a sophisticated (and potentially fatally flawed) locomotive transportation system. During a stop over in Aragane Station, Ayame of the noble family, Yomogawa is only around her father’s station long enough to witness it be overrun by an onslaught of Kabane. Losing her father in the scramble, the remaining survivors pack themselves into the Hayajiro Kotetsujou, and are soon rocketing off toward what they hope will mean safety. And along for the ride, are both an enterprising Steamsmith in the all-heart Ikoma, and mysterious young newcomer, Mumei. Drawn together by fates both cosmic, and plotted, the pair are soon seen as potential fissures within this rolling community. You see, the two are both infected by the same virus that has nearly decimated the world outside, complete with glowing hearts and an inability to be easily fell. Even so, the two have found ways to live with it, retaining humanity in ways that have averted seemingly all who have come into contact with the monstrous mass. And perhaps even possessing abilities that could lead the Aragane survivors to safety.
Now, considering that mouthful, about how much of this can we consider to be news? The setting has distinct possibilities for sure, but a great deal of what fills in the blanks plays like a vinyl record of Araki’s Greatest Hits. Everything from the zombies, to the walled cities, to the swordplay, thundering soundtrack, and bishounen complication, the show is more a game of, “What did Araki enjoy most about his previous works?” Even as the show decides to take a breather from all the action with a matsuri episode, there’s never a feeling like we’ve experienced a proper journey. Which could speak loudly to a show that so badly wishes to be a feature film, but is hampered with the kind of required acumen, energy, and patience (oh, and heaven forbid a budget) to function as a televised saga. What we end of getting between arguments about the treatment of our enhanced heroes, or of those deemed to be weak, the show has many philosophical targets, but never fully hones in on what it wants from within all the rabble and fire. There are even characters brought in late in the game that feel grafted in from a completely different series/aesthetic.
All the while, there are also hints of class struggles, rumination on humanity’s endless grappling with matters of faith in each other, exploitation, and revenge. But it as a twelve episode series offers very little breathing space for themes and characters to breathe. Even when they have great potential. Ikoma, makes for a surprisingly engrossing “Uppity Shonen Hero” type. His unerring wish to not only better help humanity in crisis, and later his desire to save Mumei from her plight, have moments of bittersweet complication. He’s never completely vindicated at every turn, and is often smacked down for his naivete. While Mume, makes for a duration of the series, a decent counterbalance for him by having chosen this fate, and is well under way toward becoming something potentially dangerous. Sure, she’s your typical moe icon with a heart of gold and killer skills, but there is plenty of potential for effective back and forth between these two, as well as with the rest of the cast, many of whom work well. Especially the young noble, Ayame. A character that one could easily see becoming the show’s heart and soul. But again, they are undercut by the seemingly endless collage of machine noise and horrendous screaming. The show’s lack of modulation ends up hurting the whole, while one might keep pining for a better treatment come the announced future feature films. It’s a format that might better help Kabane better tune sharply into what makes the ensemble occasionally work.
And it’s true. There are moments here that are capable of rousing even the most jaded. From well-executed escapes, to even an AoT like run in with a “hybrid” mass of monsters, the show does feature several effective showstoppers. On a presentation level, about 85% of the series comes complete with some stunning animation and color, which begins to falter hard come latter episodes. But the scenes that work evoke some of the most visually striking stuff this side of either the early 00s, or even feature film anime of the latter 1980s. And make sure to watch it with the largest screen, and best sound system possible, as Hiroyuki Sawano (of Kill La Kill, and AoT fame) breaks out some of his most overpowering material to date. But admittedly, the largest draw for me was the new character design work by Macross legend, Haruhiko Mikimoto, who’s work here goes a long way toward helping create this strange aura that can at times feel distracting, but is no less refreshing in the current era. Again, problems become very apparent come episode 9, where not only is the animation starting to cut corners wildly, but the story feels truncated. We are never given the proper dramatic fuel to help propel us emotionally into the climax. So when it all comes to a classically rushed final act, more of it feels perfunctory than satisfying.
So when the series has its great opportunity to turn something familiar, yet grand, it is with great resignation that one says here that even when faced with this not quite as daunting task, Kabaneri never seems willing to break free from formula. This is made all the more painful once we are introduced to these new characters that ultimately split up our protagonists, push them to their lowest points, and resort to Fantasy Saga Climax No.4: Win Your Friend Back With Love. There are hints throughout that it might be headed in this direction early on, but for it to stick so hard to formula does nothing to help the series be more than merely a romp. There is spectacle to be had for sure, but there is also potential for a great deal more. It’s reheated leftovers with some spice, but it’s still the same old song. And these tired dance moves are doing nothing for my back.
Kotetsujou No Kabaneri is now streamable on Amazon!
I have dropped off the face of the planet, in the face of reality and real world. But I still wanted to let people know that I am mindful of some series for when I have a limited time,to watch. So I wanted to speak about my adoration for Wakakozake. This series was added to Crunchyroll’s streaming catalog around Summer 2015.
Crunchyroll has the anime, and two seasons of the live action adaption streaming. So if they have the third season, you’ll expect me to think about the term, Pshuu!
Wakakozake is a story of Wakako Murasaki who is a 26 year old office lady with a desire to drink and search for places to eat. The entire series is about her visiting different eateries after work and drinking alcohol of some type of food. So for the foodie in people, what is there not to love?!
So Wakakozake doesn’t necessarily speak much about the preparation like it is seen in cooking shows or contests, but in the anime and the live action. There is a monologue of Wakako’s inner thoughts as she enjoys the food, and speaks like an amateur food critic.
So for people who like to share thoughts about food, there is Yelp and there are blogs. There is subtle difference between the anime and the live action, because in the anime, viewers see her enjoying the food. In the live action, it turns into subtle food advertisement, that I am unsure if the manga would have this trick. I have seen this in manga form from Fumi Yoshinaga’s Not Love But Delicious Foods. In the live action, the same treatment for introducing restaurants can be found in Kodoku no Gourmet. But it can be said that for the inner foodie, there is such a reaction such as pshuu… which gets animated quite nicely in the show. I am going to sign off on now, and just think about the next experience I have in eating Japanese cuisine!
Due to life events, I’ve been away from the Anime Power Ranking ballots for a few weeks, but I’ve returned to tabulate what I think are the best anime series of 2014!
Kill La Kill
Terror in Resonance
Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun
One Week Friends
Rage of Bahamut: Genesis
This list only includes series that concluded in 2014, which means series that began this year, but are not finished (ex: Knights of Sidonia, Your Lie in April, Shirobako, Fate/Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works, Parasyte) are not included, and shows that started in 2013 but finished this year (ex: Kill La Kill) are included.
Here are my comments about all the series, briefly:
The top position was a toss up between Mushi-shi and Kill La Kill, and there could not be two shows more different. Mushi-shi is simply one of a kind, the sort of quiet, contemplative, and haunting anime that simply has no peer or imitator, and is worthy of nearly every accolade.
It’s sad that a lot of my actual favorites–Knights of Sidonia, Shirobako, Your Lie in April, etc.–do not qualify for this ballot due to them not being done or being split cour. However I was left with 18 choices initially and I had to shut out some worthy but ultimately deeply flawed series like Golden Time, Yuki Yuna, and Chaika.
Terror in Resonance fits that description too, but its highs are so high, and the Watanabe/Kanno combo so potent at its best, that it still is one of the best things I watched this year. It was undermined by a muddled plot and a confusion of symbolic gesture with political statement, but aesthetically it was one of the finest presentations of the year.
Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun is, hands down, the most entertaining and original comedy of the year. More character-driven and consistent than its nearest analogue, Ouran High School Host Club, it takes aim at shoujo cliches but doesn’t forget to make the characters not only wacky but likable.
Barakamon is a personal favorite, being a comedic drama that I could identify with and whose children are deeply authentic in their portrayal. The storyline is typical but the execution is both funny and touching.
The same applies with the patient, low-key, and charming One Week Friends, whose understated innocence is instrumental to its success. Also if one understands the subtext, it becomes a deeply poignant story about a person learning to come to terms with reality.
Rage of Bahamut: Genesis, which just concluded, is simply a winner by virtue of its sheer competence: it is essentially a Hollywood blockbuster fantasy film in anime form, but done with a high degree of finesse and wit. It falters near the end somewhat, but remains endlessly watchable. It may win a special award for greatest adaptation from a plotless card game.
Both Sabagebu and Gugure! Kokkuri-san provided many barrels of laughs, especially the former, which may have been the biggest surprise of the summer season. Both comedies feature demented, jerkish characters who amuse in direct proportion to their meanness. In an anime world full of characters who are too nice, it’s a breath of fresh air.
Log Horizon contains just enough touches of intelligence and thought-provoking drama, as well as far better developed approach to the MMO genre, to assure its place in the top 10. The slow patches were difficult to get through at times, but the reward was worthwhile, even for this non-MMO player.
Mamoru Hosoda makes family movies. That is, he not only makes movies that are suitable for a broad range of ages and backgrounds, but his movies are about families in deep and insightful ways. The families can be biological (Summer Wars, Wolf Children) or the virtual ones of friendship (Our War Game, The Girl Who Leapt Through Time), but Hosoda is most interested in exploring the interconnected bonds between people and how they help individual characters become more than they would be by themselves.
The first quarter of Wolf Children depicts the mother, Hana, and the nameless werewolf father falling in love and marrying, and it is one of the most heartwarming and unpretentious courtships in recent anime, comparable to the first scenes of Pixar’s Up. This is, of course, how new families begin, and the film makes clear about how this is just like any other marriage but also different, given the father’s background. In homogeneous Japan, this mixed race marriage–for lack of a better term–is perhaps even more unique, and by hammering home its ordinariness, it helps the audience empathize with them and paves the way for later conflicts in the story.
For the bulk of the film, however, Hosoda examines what is perhaps the most direct, elemental act of family: parenting. And make no mistake, this film is about the mother much more than it is about her son Ame and daughter Yuki, the half-offspring of an actual, literal werewolf and who have a divided heritage. This detail is simultaneously crucial and inessential to the film’s central themes. The way that Ame and Yuki follow diametrically different paths is a direct result of the different ways they respond to their wolf natures, but it is also an easily relatable analogy for how any children in the same family can follow profoundly different life paths. There is also the specter of racial prejudice hanging over all of their lives, beginning with the death of their werewolf father. The family must figure out just how much to show or hide their lineage, confronting stereotypes about wolves that threatens their self-image, living in fear that their mixed heritage will be discovered and lead to ostracization. It is an unusually sensitive film for an anime in that regard, and perhaps it could only be told in this semi-allegorical, magical realist mode to make it resonate with audiences.
Caught inbetween is the protagonist, Hana, whose efforts to raise her children after their father’s death are nothing short of heroic. Wolf Children may be the perfect Mother’s Day film. Hana refurbishes an entire abandoned country house, struggles to learn how to grow vegetables in the field while suffering the suspicions of the local community, goes out in dangerous conditions to look for her lost son. These are actually the routine kinds of sacrifices that parents make every day, but they are presented in the film with such grace and nobility, it serves as a reminder to appreciate one’s parents.
To Hosoda’s credit, however, the story does not end there. To some extent, the story arc of Wolf Children covers the entire cycle of parenthood in accelerated time: from dating to marriage to conception to birth to growing up and, finally, to the children leaving home. Ame, who wishes to embrace his wolf nature fully, leaves first, as a costly act of independence that is both painful and necessary to anyone who has grown up (or who has watched their grown children leave the nest). Yuki, by contrast, chooses to focus on her human nature and thus moves to a boarding school to be closer to her peers. Part of the story fo a family is that the child’s relationship to his or her parents changes over time in just this way: no longer dependent, but hopefully still filled with love and respect. Wolf Children recognizes both the pathos and the necessity of this process. It is how the film can be shot through with melancholy and yet still feel so affirming and warm-hearted by the end.
In my view, Mamoru Hosoda comes much closer to the inheritor of the Ghibli mantle than Makoto Shinkai or, of all people, Hideaki Anno. Hosoda, like Hayao Miyazaki, writes about children and families with unusual perceptiveness, though his imagination is more grounded than the whimsical Miyazaki–it is closer to Isao Takahata’s sensibility and mood. Like Ghibli’s general output, his films have broad appeal that go beyond the otaku audience, and the background art and animation quality are never less than outstanding. Wolf Children represents a further maturation of his exploration of family ties and how they shape people in meaningful ways, and a sincere celebration of parenthood in its trials and joys.
This review was part of the Reverse Thieves’ annual Secret Santa project, in which an anime is recommended for review anonymously until Christmas. The other choices were Tatami Galaxy and xxxHolic, and I chose this one by virtue of its being the shortest. :) The last time I participated in the Secret Santa, I reviewed the first season of A Certain Scientific Railgun.
Short article this time, due to lack of time. Here’s my Anime Power Ranking ballot:
Your Lie in April 8
Sora no Method 8
Parasyte’s double feature was so compelling, it felt like watching one episode rather than two. I’m glad that they decided not to play the usual superhero card and make Shinichi instantly popular and desirable–instead, the one girl who is in love with him is deeply disturbed by his transformation, and his new status just brings more danger. The balancing act between comedy, drama, and horror is something Parasyte handles better than anything I’ve seen in a long time.
Mushishi returns with an episode highly reminiscent of the melancholy first season, with a bittersweet and poetic ending that I found deeply satisfying. The connection to the water cycle and to life is very strong.
Shirobako continues its march toward becoming the definitive workplace anime dramedy, by resolving Ema’s creative dilemma with believable and true advice that anyone should follow, and also highlighting the differences in the way family members act. It’s come a long way since its shaky start as an overstuffed quasi-documentary.
Your Lie in April gives us not one, but two stunning performances, but centered around new characters who are not yet developed. There were signs of its overwrought direction all over, especially in the second half, when the colors and monologuing nearly got out of control. (This was not nearly a problem in the manga.) The other main characters were reduced to a peanut exposition gallery.
Finally, Sora no Method enters my list for the first time. It has been a slow buildup for the show, which took too long to get to the meat of the drama, but at last the character work is paying off and there was enough emotional restraint and beautiful imagery to make it an entertaining, sentimental watch. For the first time, the emotions feel earned.
With the absence of Bahamut due to its recap episode, and the surprise entry of several titles, this week’s APR was hard to choose. Many shows only just barely missed the cut.
When Supernatural Battles Become Commonplace 7
Amagi Brilliant Park 8
Coming in at #1 is When Supernatural Battles Become Commonplace (Inou-Battle), whose shattering breakdown rant by Hatoko ranks as one of the most memorable scenes of the season, if not the entire year. Bravura voice actress Saori Hayami, who did the scene in one breathless unrehearsed take, conveys long-standing frustration over being excluded AND jealousy AND an incisive critique of the chunni mindset, within 2 very long (and necessary) minutes. It was raw, repetitive, and ineloquent, which makes it feel even more real: it felt as if she had been talking not to the character, but to me, and all of my own faults as a fan with chuuni tendencies myself. Hideaki Anno could not have critiqued an otaku better. The scene was also framed by clever foreshadowing and a denouement and twist afterwards that kicks the show into truly high gear. Trigger could not have taken potentially mediocre source material and spun it into finer gold so far.
Something similar also happens in Shirobako, as the show continues to deepen its characters and relationships. Ema’s plight is one faced by nearly everyone who’s worked, especially in creative professions: whether to focus on quantity vs quality, and how to deal with criticism from superiors. Having had similar experiences myself, the emotions were painfully familiar, and even more poignant in light of how much she is likely earning every year. Her pain is universal, and portrayed with genuine gravity and empathy, something that the show is gaining rapidly. Meanwhile, Aoi continues to display how indispensable she is to the office as the bridge between different departments and superiors, and Tarou gets what’s coming to him. This has truly become one of the most solid workplace dramedies done in anime.
Parasyte continues its high standard of combining action, danger, and even occasional comedy–which makes its return with the introduction of Uda and his symbiote Parasite. The antics of Parasite, who speaks much more colloquially than Migi, was often laugh out loud funny, combined with Uda’s exaggerated timidity–which proves to not mean that he was useless, in the least. As for Migi and Shinichi, this episode brings a quick end to the central emotional dilemma and cements his rapid growth into the battle-hardened, confident, manlier man that exudes effortless cool by the end. Parasyte is a show that, up to this point, has wasted little time on extraneous scenes and character development, and its march toward being a dark superhero epic is one of the most compelling rides this season.
Amagi Brilliant Park returns to the list with a truly funny, engaging plot about body swapping that ends up making amusing trouble for Kanie’s social life. The confusion/misunderstanding plot was a staple of the humor in Shoji Gatou’s previous Full Metal Panic, and for once, the pacing kept up with the jokes. It seems that Amaburi has at last found its stride, and it remains the funniest episode to show this week, with Garo’s “Full Monty” coming a very close second.
Finally, Mushi-shi turns in another fine story inspired by traditional tales of what lies at the bottom of wells, as well as the idea of slipping into a shadow or faery world. The imagery of the otherworldly stars is simply gorgeous and the theme of families being unable to hear or understand each other works as a fine metaphor. Again, in keeping with the current iteration of this show, the ending is solidly happy, which makes one wonder if we will ever see a return to the melancholy of old. In either case, its unique “traditional folk tales for the new age” continues its march toward greatness.
THINGS THAT DIDN’T MAKE IT BUT WERE STILL GOOD For the first time, Your Lie in April/KimiUso did not make it on the list, and that is largely because it is a transitional episode: a transition from the first arc, which focused on relationships and budding romance, to what I like to call the “tournament arc” that focuses on piano competition. The depiction of stage fright and impending doom was well-conveyed, and Kaori and Kousei share a nice moment in the park as well as some psychological drama, but as a standalone episode, it felt a little bit less compelling.
Garo was a very near contender for Amagi Brilliant Park’s place, with a genuinely hilarious series of gags involving male nudity, chase scenes, and deception. German stands out as not just an all around womanizer, but as a great comedic lead, a contrast to his dour son. It reminds one of a well-directed Hollywood farce, almost veering into territory currently owned by MAPPA’s other project, Bahamut. The “Full Monty” reference is surely not accidental in that context. It was amusing but was just slightly bested by Amagi’s character-oriented humor this week.
Last week’s Parasyte episode is the best one yet. In some ways it echoes a traditional superhero story, like Spider-Man, but with a darker edge: this time, the transformation has made Shinichi much harder and more rugged–dare I say manlier? But it comes at a very painful price. Moreover, while it has made him stronger, it has made Migi weaker, which introduces a new level of danger. Finally, the scene where he confronts his father and his father’s subsequent disbelief is both tense and heartbreaking. I get the feeling that there will be no more comedy in this show, however…
KimiUso/Your Lie in April’s 6th episode spends some more time developing characters in its characteristically florid way. Here it begins to tread on familiar ground for anime romance, from the shafted childhood friend to emotional piggyback rides and sparkling stars. It still does it with all the overheated emotion of adolescence better than anyone else, but I am awaiting the next performance scene, which is being promised with the introduction of rivals–a mark of its shounen manga roots more than anything.
Shirobako continues to be the believable workplace dramedy that is it, but this episode is special in that it reminds the characters of why they got into the industry in the first place: fandom. The way the 2D and 3D artists bonded over Ide(p)on, complete with nods to Ideon’s OP and ED as BGM, was actually a little bit touching. It’s a shame that we all know a Tarou in every office, though.
Mushi-shi presents a lovely tale, one of its most hopeful and positive ones in recent days, loosely based on the traditional stories of the tennyo (heavenly/angelic maidens). A fine metaphor for child-rearing as well as a meditation on how to raise a son, it’s nice to see an uplifting story from a series that has usually excelled most when it is tragic and melancholy. As always, the atmosphere of hushed contemplation and wonder is one of a kind.
Bahamut takes a bit of a breather in both action and story, though it’s still nothing less than polished as always. Most interestingly we see the full mishmash of different mythologies and religions that comprise the show’s mythos, and promising developments for the show’s larger plot of preventing Bahamut’s awakening. Sadly, it appears next week’s episode is a recap so we will probably have to wait for a while for the story to continue.
What an emotional roller coaster Your Lie In April is: this is the best non-performance episode yet, with some of the best-directed visuals this season, in the service of a teenage melodrama that is so immediate and so true to my own internal experience of that age. I understand that this is, among other things, what repels others, but it’s rare to see a show that speaks directly to my heart, including all of the painful and uncomfortable parts. Frankly, KimiUso transports me back to my own musically inclined, guilt-ridden, and rescue-longing adolescence, and nothing else this season is doing that.
Parasyte 5 is clearly some kind of turning point in the story and for our protagonist, where the full terror of the situation finally, literally hits home. The desperation and growing despair in the final scene is a mini-masterpiece of horror, eliminating whatever vestiges of humor may be left in the series and setting the show on a course for higher stakes action. I can’t wait.
Bahamut 5 continues to astound by not only including well-animated individual duels between Favaro, Kaisar, and others, but also a tremendously epic large scale battle led by St Jeanne d’Arc. Perhaps it’s this show, not Fate Stay/Night, that should earn the nickname Unlimited Budget Works, because very little expense was spared in the volleys of trebuchets, wyverns, flaming arrows, and a collapsing organic floating ship. Studio MAPPA: the Weta Workshop of anime?
Amagi Brilliant Park enters my ballot for the first time with the first truly laugh out loud episode (for me). It was the first episode that truly reminded me of one of my favorite comedic masterpieces, Full Metal Panic: Fumoffu, with its quick-witted humor and better pacing. Amagi Brilliant Park had suffered to some slack pacing and potted “serious” sequences in the past, but at last it hit a comedic high that proved to be the funniest thing I’ve seen this past week.
Finally, the always gorgeous, regret-tinged Mushi-shi earns a somewhat lower place this week than in the past. The idea behind the story was great, but the solution was a bit perfunctory and pat compared to previous episodes. Mushi-shi works best when the atmosphere works hand-in-hand with the balanced, nuanced message that each episode is supposed to deliver—often about people who refuse to let go of their pasts. So far, the somewhat more positive tone of this season has been handled brilliantly, but it falters here just slightly. I am confident it will continue to be on my ballots in weeks to come, however.
—Psycho Pass takes a turn toward the jarring and confusing, after an extremely violent episode. We are beginning to see some of Tow Ubukata’s weaknesses on display–its approach felt like, in some ways, the rather muddled final episode of Ghost in the Shell: Arise. I felt curiously unsatisfied by the end, especially with the video game-based twist. Ender’s Game this is not.
–The Sabagebu OVA sadly dispenses with a lot of what made the original series funny (Momoka’s meanness and the surprising twists in plot, plus the narrator) in favor of self-aware fan service. It doesn’t improve things that much to proclaim how much you know it’s an OVA special, guys.
—Fate Stay/Night: UBW is solid, but unremarkable at this point. The battle scenes were well-drawn as always, and it’s always nice to see Rin being tsundere, but I thought this was going to be more about her rather than Shirou. Shirou isn’t as annoying as he was in the original anime, at least, and the appearance of Rider was welcome, albeit brief. But other shows provided more kick this week.
Ahhh, how absurd it is. Absurdity is post-modern, yes stipulated by Albert Camus. Being absurd, and I never seen anything absurd like this. Yeah, “Gonna be the Twin-tails!” OreTwi. This is just too stupid, it’s so stupid that I can’t stop watching. Oh yes, Otaku, totally us, otaku are absurd! Otaku’s existence is absurd! Continue reading Gonna be the Twin-Tails! Just absurd!→