Mistakes of Youth: The Blog (Powered by EXCELLENCE!)

Original Post

I think I’m going to give Shinbo a rest after this comic.

I was going to say I have nothing planned for next week, but then I came up with a bunch of really stupid ideas, and fully intend to use them.

(In Shinbo’s head SHAFT animators look like Lupin and Jigen because I was listening to the Lupin III soundtrack while drawing this.)

My feelings towards SHAFT’s adaptation of Dance In The Vampire Bund are–much like a man’s feelings for Char Aznable–rather complex. If you were to ask me whether I like it or not, I’d have to say that I’m rather happy with it. However, there are a number of things about the show that scare and confuse me, and I’d like to address those things first.

SHAFT shows (post-Shinbo era) typically have really good soundtracks. If you were to reach into a pile of SHAFT soundtracks, chances are you’d have a fairly pleasant listening experience. Sadly, this isn’t the case with Vampire Bund. The music is composed by Dobashi Akio, who was both keyboardist and composer for the 1980s J-pop band REBECCA. (Incidentally, Vampire Bund’s opening is a cover of one of their greatest hits, Friends.) While Dobashi may have a knack for composing antiquated pop songs, he doesn’t seem to have much in the way of talent when it comes to composing engrossing background music. Thankfully, the music occupies the realm of passable-to-decent, but there are times when it just comes off as far too cheesy and lame. A scene I’m thinking of in particular is when Mina messes some baddies up in a warehouse, after being lathered in her special gel. The music accompanying that scene just falls flat, and doesn’t do anything to enhance the action on screen. It’s painfully mechanical. Perhaps SHAFT was going for the 80s action movie aesthetic, but I’m not really feeling it. Thankfully, the music doesn’t bother me too much, but I wish it was something I could get excited about, like the Tsukuyomi soundtrack.

Other questionable stylistic quirks can be seen in the show’s visuals. I’m typically a fan of whatever visual madness SHAFT does, and I can see what they’re trying to do by intentionally making the video look shoddy by way of a noise filter and a green glow that looks like it belongs on a badly dubbed VHS. I don’t think it looks bad per-se, but it certainly doesn’t encode well. However, by episode 4 it seems that they’ve hit a nice balance. It’ll probably look neat in Blu.

Aside from those qualms, I think SHAFT has done well to re-work the series to their strengths. Yuki’s narration (delivered by Saito Chiwa, who didn’t do enough talking in Bakemonogatari, obviously) helps to frame the show nicely, adding something of a personal touch to the story. An account of someone who’s actually “there”, if you will.

Alongside Yuki’s narration, the way in which SHAFT opens the show is far more inspired than the rather dry manner in which the manga opens. My kung-fu isn’t strong enough to claim that an otherwise “serious” anime opening with a satire of variety shows is unprecedented, but it’s not anything I’ve ever seen before, and it’s just plain funny. Similarly, the following episode has a lot more fun in introducing the characters. Mina’s not-very-good attempt at spying on Akira through the bushes, along with her dance atop the building while introducing herself to Akira play up Mina’s more childish side, a part of her that’s not really touched upon until volumes 2 or 3 of the manga. The only newly introduced aspect of the story that doesn’t really seem to add much is Akira’s amnesia, but perhaps they’ll touch upon that later on. There’s also a new character!

The show has some things going for it visually as well, putting aside the deliberate degradation of the video. After shows like Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei, Hidamari Sketch and Bakemonogatari, seeing SHAFT do some real backgrounds for a change is kind of nice. While a lot of the locales are anime standards, the shots inside Mina’s residence evoke the castle interiors in the opening episodes of Tsukuyomi. Except this time they’re lit up. I also like the odd use of photos for quick shots, even if I realize it’s really cheap. It’s neat.

Much like Bakemonogatari, Vampire Bund is “shot” pretty well. None of the compositions really hearken back to Shinbo’s Cossette or Soultaker days, but they make good use of the 16:9 aspect ratio, typically adhearing to the rule of thirds. To put it simply, the show tends to look cinematic. This keen eye for framing along with SHAFT’s newest habit of mimicking live-action camera work (Usually done by zooming in/tilting up on a charcater, but animating each and every frame instead of just zooming/panning up on a still image.) make for fairly interesting episode compositions.

The character designs evoke the manga art pretty well, but they have a touch more solidarity. In recent years SHAFT has kept the designs in their shows fairly close to their source material, but Vampire Bund sees a return to the aesthetic applied in Tsukuyomi, Pani Poni and Negima!?. What defines this style, I think, is a lot of roundness to the characters, while at the same time maintaining solidarity (ie, not becoming KyoAni-like blobs). A lot of detail is lavished upon hair, eyes, fabric folds, and there is a near fetishistic attention to the formation of hands and joints. It’s kind of strange how Tsukuyomi, Pani Poni, Negima!? and now Vampire Bund all share a lot of these traits, considering the fact that they don’t share a character designer as far as I know. I’m guessing it’s just a SHAFT thing. Perhaps Shinbo demands detailed hair and knee-caps.

Going back to important things–like the plot, I guess–to wrap this up, along with bringing Mina’s playful side to the forefront earlier on, the show is wasting no time establishing the main fixtures in the story. As early as episode two, the camera catches a glimpse of some villains, who the manga doesn’t even introduce until they actually do things. SHAFT is mostly likely taking the most important aspects of the manga, mixing it with their own stuff, and putting together a story that can be told nicely in the one-cour runtime (Of course, they’ll leave things hanging for a season 2…). It’s certainly more interesting than retelling the manga straight up because, you know, I already read that.

Scary and confusing things aside, I am more or less happy with how SHAFT’s version of Vampire Bund is turning out. I just hope when the action really hits hard, they’ll be able to deliver. We still haven’t seen many of the scenes from the PV, yet…

…the PV which seems to have disappeared completely from the internet…

Sunred was forsaken by the fansubbing community for a while after it hit, which is why I am thankful towards ANBU for being heroic enough to make this comedic gem available for English speakers. But along with praising their work, I do have a few bones to pick. Because that’s just how I roll.

But let’s start with the good. The translation they’ve stuck onto this show nearly perfect. While not 100% accurate, it captures the feel of the dialogue wonderfully. This is important, since Sunred derives a lot of its humour from just how conversational the script is, so a translation that reads exactly like normal English does wonders in helping the humour cross that often-difficult-to-breach linguistic boundary. It really is a shame that professional DVD translations don’t often reach this level of quality.

However, I think their translation localizes too much. Another thing that makes Sunred funny is how deep it plunges its heroes and villains into the stereotypically mundane Japanese lifestyle. As such, making the characters pay for things in dollars, as well as citing American brands as opposed to Japanese ones robs the show of its cultural flavour. Sunred thrives on references to local and nationally known things. This is a show that has three songs devoted to the city in which it takes place in, Mizonokuchi. I appreciate that they’re trying to communicate this same level of familiarity to American viewers by switching in American references, but it’s pushing things too far. They also make the characters swear too much. This is what I meant by “nearly perfect.”

Also, if they’re really shooting for professional quality on these things, why are they still doing ugly hardsubbed karaoke? Even the most newbie of new groups have gone to 100% soft subs.

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Tentai Senshi Sunred is, without a doubt, one of my most favourite comedy titles to hit in recent years. Along with all the other elements that come together to make each episode as funny as the last, there are two key things that make the humour really work–the voice acting, and the characters’ body language.

Sunred’s humour primarily relies on absurdity. It is a show about heroes and villains living typical mundane Japanese lives, after all. So rather than opting to have the characters deliver their lines in the typical polished anime voice acting style, they instead deliver with a noticeable level of naturalness. The voice acting isn’t rough or unpolished. Far from it. In fact, the acting is very good. However, the voices coming from the monsters and heroes in Sunred aren’t what you’d expect from heroes and villains, or the typical anime character. They’re the kind of voices you’ll hear if you speak to normal Japanese people.

It’s fair to say that the average Japanese girl does not sound the moe heroines that make up the bulk of female anime characters these days. By that same token, the average Japanese male does not sound like a brooding pretty-boy hero. Rather than mastering voices that are difficult to come by in the real world, the actors in Sunred instead deliver polished and professional performances that sound like, well, your buddies. However, in Sunred each character’s speech quirk is intentional. Things like mumbling are deliberate, and regional dialects are very much written in the script. Sunred’s punk-like cadence and Vamp’s near homosexual tone are especially well done. This perfection in delivering the imperfections of normal human speech is part of what drives home just how absurd the entire show is.

In addition to voice acting, the characters also have their own body language to match. While not the most well animated show, Sunred makes sure their characters express themselves both vocally and physically. In fact, the limited animation probably helps. Characters quickly changing between a few bold poses with no inbetweening does a good job of drawing one’s attention to the body language.

Much like the voice acting, the characters’ body language is also very natural. Convincing awkward mutters are matched with just as convincing fidgeting, and arguments between characters aren’t the typical talking-head shouting match. A great example of how well the body language works in Sunred can actually be found in the latest (not yet translated) episode–Sunred is confronted by another hero in a restaurant, and this hero asks Sunred for an awkward bit of advice. As the sketch begins, Sunred is looking around awkwardly, taking very annoyed puffs from his cigarette. This short cut of him just looking around, clearly looking as if he doesn’t want to be there, sets up the sketch perfectly.

Of course, what makes this all hilarious is that these are a bunch of freaks acting like normal guys. Especially a character like Khamenman, who sounds like some old guy, but still acts like a 20-something loser. The way in which these various factors contradict each other is key to how the show operates. And even though the show communicates quite realistic emotions through body language and voice acting, it doesn’t shy away from sweat drops or other examples of anime visual short-hand, which again contrasts nicely with all the stuff I’ve outlined above.

The are some other reasons why I find Sunred to be one of the best comedies out there, but this more or less covers why I think the show works as well as it does.

The anime calendar has been something of an addiction of mine for the past five years. It has gotten better over time–what was once four calendars a year has now turned into one–but I still love these things as much as I did when my set of coveted anime calendars arrived at my door during my senior year of high school.

For those who don’t know, the made-in-Japan anime calendars don’t really function as calendars. They’re giant B2 pads that contain seven pages illustrations; a cover page, and six other pages that cover two months each. Dates are shoved into a small area of each page, and aren’t easy to mark off to make a notes or something. These calendars are in effect a set of very nice posters that you change every two months, and what makes or breaks a calendar is obviously the quality of the illustrations at hand.

Generally the illustrations aren’t anything ambitious, but they tend to be a step up from generic stock artwork and sit more on level with anime magazine pinups. In the case of an otaku-oriented program like Sora Kake Girl, the pages of its respective calendar are all about the girls looking cute–often times in very little clothing.

The girls in Sora Kake Girl all sparkle with their own unique brand of cuteness, and each page does well to make sure their good sides are showing. These good sides are of course their breasts, butts and legs. Whether it’s Nami thrusting out her tight body while grinning maniacally, Itsuki adjusting her bikini bottom with her butt to the camera, or simply Akiha striking Japan’s favourite V-sign, each illustration is executed with professionalism.

It goes without saying that the quality of these illustrations is better than a random screencap. What’s on display here happily occupies the realm of DVD cover or Megami poster illustrations. The colours are rich and bright, and extra care is taken with the shading and lighting effects. The highlights glow, and the shades are made deeper with choice use of gradients. Dirty pencil lines are obvious up close, but that becomes a given when one’s room is filled with Megami posters. It’s nothing ambitious–like I said before–but it’s all well done.

There are some issues, however. Firstly, only five of the seven illustrations are originals (to my knowledge) and the remaining two are simply re-used Megami posters. They aren’t bad illustrations, but it is rather lazy. That said, the images are printed in the calendar’s larger dimensions, and their colouring comes out more brilliant than their respective Megami pinups’. Secondly, the paper isn’t really strong stuff. My Hayate no Gotoku and Zettai Karen Children posters from years previous were printed on more resilient stock. Because of this, the pages took something of a beating during shipping, and it shows if you look closely.

Putting those nagging issues aside, however, this calendar is a great buy if you’re both a fan of Sora Kake Girl and need a calendar for the year. It’s not the gold standard of anime calendars that Kyoto Animation calendars are, but it’s a nice set of cute T&A pictures to compliment all the others hanging up on your wall.

And since I couldn’t think of a good place to dump these, here’s some bad photos of each page. There’s no scan of this calendar to my knowledge, so if you want it, you have to buy it! Don’t worry! You still have until the end of February before that first page becomes useless!

Original Post

After running this comic by a few people last night, my hypothesis that I’m the only one who finds this comic funny was proven to be correct. It’s not terribly funny unless you find Shinbo getting on Yamakan’s case for storyboarding an episode of Chu-Bra funny, and I find that hilarious. I also think it’s funny for my cartoon avatar to pop out of the corner of the frame in his continuous journey to stalk Mr. Shinbo.

While I’m on the subject–and since I don’t think it really deserves a focused blog entry–Chu-Bra is somewhat disappointing. It is a little interesting how it’s taken a less fanservice driven route (don’t get me wrong, it still has a lot of panty-shots) and has instead decided to focus on the embarrassment that young girls feel about wearing underwear, as well as the mechanics of underwear. It’s interesting to make a show about these things in theory, but in practice it kind of falls flat, especially when I don’t find the characters to be that enchanting. So long story short, the show should be more about fanservice. I may stick around for Yamakan’s episode, but I’ll probably drop it.

That’s it! There may or may not be a comic next week. I haven’t sketched anything yet so I don’t know!

(Get it? He said “wah!”)

Tonight is Conan O’Brien’s last show as the host of the Tonight Show after just seven months of being on the air. But everyone knows that.

I’ve been watching Conan on-and-off since I was in middle school, and it really hurts to see him pulled in such a haphazard manner. Given that a good portion of my viewing diet is composed of anime series with set run-times, seeing a show I’ve  been watching for a good seven years get knocked off the air–and for stupid reasons–makes me feel a little down.

I won’t be able to watch his last show live as I don’t own a TV, but I’ll be sure to catch it on Hulu. Conan is undoubtedly one of the funniest entertainers out there, and I hope the same show he’s been putting on for nearly twenty years finds its way unharmed to another network.

Anime fans are known to often spout off Japanese they don’t know because they think it’s cool. Okay, sometimes they do know Japanese, and still spout off Japanese words. I do this, too. For instance, when I was in Japan, I’d often comment on how takai (expensive) everything was. While I did it half-jokingly, running Japanese words into your English speech becomes a habit once you spend enough time in Japan. So–as awful as this may sound to some–I think in certain contexts it’s okay to run Japanese words into English sentences. For instance, I think it’s fine to do this amongst other people who know the language while talking about concepts with no 100% direct translation. It’s almost fine in blog posts (though I think footnotes would have worked better).

However, when Jake Adelstein quotes his buddy as saying, “Omae, I’ve never seen anyone do that before and live to tell the tale.” in his book Tokyo Vice, I think something is wrong. Yes, he explains what omae means and its connotations (it’s a rude/familiar way to say “you”), and I can see the kind of tone he’s trying to convey with his translation, but this just shouldn’t be done in a professionally published book for mainstream readers. It would have been far better just to use “you” then note that in Japanese, the guy was using omae, and what omae means. People who don’t know Japanese won’t ever fully grasp the tone the man was taking whether or not omae was used in the translation, and those of us who know Japanese will be able to imagine said tone if “you” was used instead, and a note about the use of omae followed afterwords.

The book also uses fansubber favourites like senpai, kohai, as well as the infamous gaijin. I don’t think gaijin is even explained–it doesn’t really need to be, considering the book’s target audience–but it doesn’t hurt to be safe, right?

That said, about a fourth of the way in, Tokyo Vice is a pretty interesting look into a side of Japan that I don’t see talked about much, so to that end it’s a pretty good read. And it’s not like it’s badly written either, it’s just Adelstein’s use of Japanese puts me off, especially when he uses “comic book” as opposed to manga.

I’m sure he appreciates some guy on a blog that has a “Lolita Appreciation” category getting on his case over something so trivial!!

Orginal Post

You know, I’m not even going to say anything about what’s going on this fucking comic strip. I mean, it can easily just stand on its own without any explanation or commentary. But before anyone gets the wrong I idea, I did very much enjoy the first episode of SHAFT’s Dance In The Vampire Bund anime, and enjoyed the second episode even more. I’ll expand upon why I like them in a post that will hopefully materialize later on.

I’m quite happy with how the artwork turned out on this one, save for Rets’ dirty pose in the last panel, along with the fact that the background perspective may not make too much sense. If anyone who knows how to draw (Why would you be subjecting yourself to my crap if you knew how to draw?) has any tips or crits, drop ‘em here. Crits are welcome for every comic, actually. That’s how you get better, after all.

Next week’s comic isn’t sketched, but with hope I can get something out. I think we’re due for another Life and Times of Akiyuki Shinbo…

Having never seen nor read any of Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni, I had very little interest in Umineko no Naku Koro Ni when it was set to hit Japanese airwaves. However, while I was in Japan, a friend of mine insisted that we catch the show’s premier on TV, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give it a spin. Two cours later, despite the animalistic moaning of fanboys, I found the Umineko TV series to be quite good. Perhaps it’s because I have not yet partaken of the original visual novel, but I found the TV show to be a not-bad way to spend 24 minutes each week.

Before listening to a review of Higurashi, all I knew about the show was that it was a series of stories featuring recurring characters in which the continuity was reset each time. I just assumed all of these stories were standalone, but apparently they all have something to do with one-another. This being something of trademark for Ryukishi07, a similar thing is done in Umineko, and it happens to be one of the things I find the most fascinating about the series.

The way in which the story moves from a simple murder mystery into a Death Note style battle of wits between people who can walk between different thinly defined realms of existence while privy to the details of alternate continuities is really neat. The politics between the witches isn’t really focused on too much, but their interactions add another layer of intrigue to the story. The entire thing is underscored by unclear definitions of what’s real and what’s not, which serves to make things all the more exciting. All of this mixed together with some nice plot twists here and there makes for something of a satisfying viewing experience.

Fans of the novel complain about the show’s direction, putting forth that it doesn’t communicate the “feel” of the novel well at all, but I love it. I think the over-the-top handling of every ridiculous plot twist is part of what makes the show so entertaining. It’s kind of like Code Geass, I guess.

Umineko does suffer visually, but the novel does as well. For the anime, the character designs are actually drawn by a professional, but they just look generic. The actual animation really isn’t that bad, but it doesn’t stand out either–it’s simply average. It doesn’t really effect things much, except for the laughable fight scenes. The only real notably bad part about the show’s animation is how awful the colouring is. It really is just hideous.

One area in which the show does suffer in is characterization. The characters are merely meant to push along the narrative, and don’t leave much of an impression beyond the fact that some of them have nice tits. I suppose this is one area in which the novel is a lot better, since people seem to be quite attached to some of these characters, and I don’t understand why from just watching the anime.

I don’t see myself sitting down to watch this again, but it’s a good page turner for what it’s worth. If inspired I may pick up the visual novel, but I prefer sitting down and looking at moving pictures to sitting down and clicking through text on a screen.

Before I launch into this unorganized mess of thoughts, I just thought it would be prudent to inform you that this post is in fact an unorganized mess of thoughts. Enjoy!

After a year or so, OS (or that guy I used to talk to on AIM a lot) made a post on the latest incarnation of his blog saying he’s outta here. Gone for gone. Packing his bags. While his post in itself didn’t offend me, it was a comment left by Hung that inspired noticeable levels of rage. Long story short, OS has lost interest in anime, and feels kinda bad about it. His post is allegedly a look back to the “good ol’ days” of anime blogging (i.e. probably no more than four or five years ago), but it reads more like a giant apology for no longer being a nerd and instead taking pleasure in watching football and fuckin’ women. Hung–who never ever has anything good to say, really–weighs in with his far more bleak point of view, suggesting that anime is only something you do when you’ve got nothing else, and by god he doesn’t wanna go back!!

I see nothing wrong with losing interest in a hobby. I’m not the huge Star Wars fan I was when I was a kid, and I don’t feel bad for it. However, I do see something really negative in losing interest in a hobby, then showing disdain for it. Especially showing disdain on a blog about the hobby that you’re showing disdain for!

Every situation is different, but I can see Hung’s story plain as day without even speaking to the guy. This dude got into anime in college–at the very earliest, senior year of highschool–and was blown away at the fact that drawings filmed together in a sequence could tell actual stories! These cartoons weren’t concerned about whether or not it was rabbit season, nor were they about one-hundred-and-one talking dalmatians. They had real human characters, man! This shit had drama, this shit had comedy, this shit had MARTIAL ARTS, and it was all STRAIGHT FROM FUCKING JAPAN, MAN. This shit was so exciting, young Hung didn’t know what to fucking do. He did crazy things like start some fuckin’ anime blog and some fuckin’ anime blog aggregator. Dude was doing whole bunch of crazy things just because he liked these cartoons. Then after the 1000th summer season of love comedies and sad girls in snow, the dude got sick of it all. To put it all briefly, the dude got burned out.

My story is a little different. I discovered anime at the impressionable age of ten, watched a bunch of shit I should have and should not have, and I had a good time. There also wasn’t a lot available to me, so I couldn’t really binge on torrents or anything. But above all of that, I saw anime as simply an extension to my already very active enthusiasm towards animation in general. Anime wasn’t something new and weird that was automatically better than everything else. It was simply an addition to the types of media I enjoyed taking in. Okay, so it was new and weird, but not so much that I lost track of myself.

I’m not saying I’m better than the people who only got into anime in college, but I think perhaps my lack of access and early time of entry has positively effected my longevity as a fan. I think my gradual easing into the medium as I aged did well to defuse any disappointment I may have had a as result of noticing that all of these cartoons aren’t that wonderful, only some of them are. If anything, Hung’s case is just tragic, and it happens to a lot of ex-fans. That’s why there’s a lot of dead blogs out there. That’s why Garten finally stopped writing. “The Hung Method”, as it were, oftentimes leads to jadedness. This isn’t bad in itself, but shit gets personal when you start making your jaded nature known to other fans happily taking in this stuff. That’s basically what I’ve been trying to say across these 700 words and counting.

A jaded fan is someone who sees absolutely nothing redeeming in what he’s a fan of anymore. However, since he’s still a “fan” he sticks around and chimes in with his often uninformed and cynical viewpoint from time-to-time. (For an example, take a look at Hung’s latest masterpiece!) By all means, this person should get the fuck out and stop bothering us. But no, they stay. Hung is still around in some form, and Zac Bertschy and Justin Sevakis still work at Anime News Network.

In fact, I have to thank Zac and Justin for wonderfully illustrating just what distinguishes a jaded fan from other fans. Especially those fans who may be perceived as jaded because they come off as overwhelmingly negative and critical. It was in their episode of the ANN Cast where Daryl Surat guest starred. Before that point Daryl Surat was, in my mind, something of a jaded fan. This was before I came to the definition that I outlined in the above paragraph, mind you. But after listening to Zac and Justin talk about how just how awful everything is, then listening to their conversation with Daryl, things became very clear: Daryl is a huge fan. Daryl is excited about anime.  He just has very specific tastes. (Correct me if I’m wrong, Daryl.) It’s the same with all those Brazen Braggarts over at Colony Drop. Between reading their blog posts and speaking to them on IRC, I don’t think any of these guys are jaded, they just have very specific tastes. Even Sean, who is arguably the most cynical, and who I’ve argued with on numerous occasions (he wins because I can’t think straight) gets excited about some things.

In an attempt to bring this all together, the difference between the legions of jaded Hung-like fans who just couldn’t replicate that first high and our friends at CD and the AWO is fire. Passion. If you’re not excited about this hobby, you should just leave. Even if you disagree with them (I’m sure a lot of my readership does.) Daryl and CD have something to say, and they mean it with all their hearts. Hung doesn’t. This has fire. This doesn’t.

(And before anyone gets on my case for jumping on Hung, I’m simply using him as an example for an trend I’ve noticed across my time as a fan. He’s just the closest thing in my sights at the moment.)

Between a somewhat vague plot synopsis and bizarre promotional artwork, the image I had in my head of Kuuchuu Buranko was a strange one. I had visions of a cartoon in which narrative and direction went out of their way to be confusing, visuals made no sense at all, and crazy Denki Groove music played without rest in the background. That turned out not to be the case.

For those not familiar with said vague plot synopsis, allow me to enlighten you. Kuuchuu Buranko (which means Trapeze, by the way) is a series of short stories that all revolve around people who have some kind of mental issue. Each episode begins with them consulting Irabu Ichirou–a psychiatrist at the Irabu General Hospital–about their issue. Irabu and his hot ‘n’ sexy assistant nurse Mayumi then proceed to rid the patient of their ailment using a host of unorthodox methods.

While initially disappointed by Kuuchuu Buranko’s relative normality outside of its visual style, as the series progressed I began to appreciate it a bit more. At first glance one may think the visual style is simply a flashy way to keep costs down, but with each passing episode one begins to notice a touch of cleverness.

The show has a set of motifs that remain consent across the eleven episodes, and motifs that are specific to each episode, which illustrate the various facets of each story in interesting ways. For instance, the show has a habit of rendering crowds of people as walking cardboard cutouts, and if one of these background characters becomes important, they’ll change into a traditionally drawn character. The faces of the main characters for each story also often shift between drawings and photographs (of their respective voice actor, hilariously). Irabu himself shifts between three different forms–one as a giant stuffed bear, one as a slightly effeminate younger man, and one as a child. Mayumi is generally portrayed in live action by an actor, or as a rotoscoped drawing.

There is a fair amount of the show’s visual styling that is merely cosmetic, such as the backgrounds which are no more than photos that have been altered so everything has polka-dots. However, due to this ever-present strangeness, the viewer loses track of what’s actually there and what’s just shown as symbolism. As such, when characters openly address something one assumed was just some symbolism, it’s rather surprising.

Despite having a very flashy aesthetic, the show is animated pretty cheaply. As I mentioned before, the aesthetic cuts down on costs a lot with its heavy use of photos and live action. The animation tends to be composed primarily out of still shots of characters, and the parts that are actually animated aren’t especially fluid, with few exceptions. This doesn’t hurt the show at all, since it’s first and foremost about talking heads matched with weird imagery. Things don’t need to move around much.

Being based off of a somewhat well-known collection of Japanese short fiction, Kuuchuu Buranko really proves itself in the story department. Even though it’s composed entirely of one-shot stories, each story tends to be a rather interesting look into whatever mental ailment is affecting the patient. It’s especially scary if one can relate to any of them. Given the country of origin, oftentimes these mental illnesses are products of Japanese society, so to that end the show works well as something of a social commentary as well. There is one episode that’s all about a kid who’s addicted to his cell phone, after all. One other interesting aspect of the series is how all of the stories take place at the same time. So as the series progresses, various aspects from other stories interact with each other, and at times explain plot points from past stories which felt a little strange out of context.

The stories would be nothing without their characters, who all strike a good balance between being realistic while also being hyperbolically goofy (usually when their mental illness kicks in). The characters–both the recurring Irabu and Mayumi as well as the patients that come and go really are the heart of the series, and cover a wide variety of personality types. My favourite was The Owner. He owned things, like baseball teams.

Visual weirdness aside, the show’s direction is generally quite normal. However, there are times when the atmosphere becomes very manic. Incidentally, this happens whenever the patient’s mental illness begins to manifest in some way. Musically, nothing stands out too much aside from the groovy opening and ending numbers by Denki Groove. The background tracks employ some Denki Groove at times, but they only serve to underline what’s going happening on-screen, not overtake. The show is more about the voice actors delivering their lines and atmospheric noise than anything else.

Between its strange visual style and unique premise, Kuuchuu Buranko is certainly an alternative title that may put off viewers who prefer shows that skew towards familiarity. However, if you’re one always on the lookout for something new, weird, and good I endorse Kuuchuu Buranko 100%. Irabu just may be able to help you with some issues you’ve been having, too!