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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!

Even though I was working on compiling some impressions about Darker Than Black 2, I felt a better way to launch this blog into the new decade was to review something a bit more classy. And of course, there is no series that embodies that adjective more than Sora no Otoshimono.

This setup isn’t anything you haven’t heard before–home-alone highschooler Sakurai Tomoki has recurring dreams about a blue-haired angel, and incidentally has a divine run-in with an angel or “Angeloid” called Ikaros. Ikaros addresses Tomoki as “master” and will grant any wish for Tomoki using her magical powers. Meanwhile, Tomoki’s senior Sugata Eishirou–a man convinced there a “new world” somewhere out there–has been noticing strange readings on his computer that show a strange hole floating over Japan. Putting aside those (rather unimportant, really) plot details, Tomoki has an allotment of haremettes besides Ikaros including his karate-trained childhood friend Mitsuki Sohara,  sadistic class president Satsukitane Mikako and another Angeloid called Nymph, who fills in the show’s much-needed Tsundere slot. The show does pay attention to the plot alluded to higher up in this paragraph, but each episode is mostly wacky high-jinx.

I enjoy anything that can indulge in pure silliness, and Sora no Otoshimono has moments where one may think the writers have a PhD in silliness. It does fire off some duds, but on the whole the show hits pretty hard. Tomoki is setup as a boring harem-lead–peace and quiet is his motto–but a lot of the humour revolves around him being absolutely ridiculous. Tomoki is a step up from the normal harem lead–he’s a harem lead who is fully aware of his situation and takes full advantage of it, not unlike Yoshitaka from He is My Master. As such, a lot of laughs come from his perverted escapades. But aside from that, this show generally has a knack for pushing things over-the-top. Whether it’s Tomoki running around naked, Mikako acting on her sadistic tendencies, Sohara beating the crap out of Tomoki, Ikaros doing something other-worldly, or Sugata experimenting with one of his inventions, the show does well to crank things up past 10 to 11.

The show’s over-the-top nature is supported by fairly top-notch production values. If the characters ever need to blow each other up with guns, or if the show needs a nice shot of an SR-71–all of those mechanics will be rendered with a fetishistic amount of detail, only serving to make the jokes funnier. Similarly, over-the-top actions as well as reactions will be lavished upon with surprising amounts of key frames. Ridiculous situations of all manner happen in this show, and they’re all handled with tender love and care, as well as lots of drawings. In the show’s mellower moments, the animation is pretty standard, and there is a habit to shift Tomoki and Ikaros into super deformed characters (probably in attempt to save money) but there are no striking moments of characters looking terribly off-model. There are some proportion issues at times, but it’s nothing major. The drawings are brought to life with a strong, saturated colour scheme which makes use of deep shadows and complex lighting effects when needed. In short, this show looks pretty good.

Between the humour that primarily drives the show, there is an underlying plot which does get addressed to some degree, and is used to close off the show nicely. However, since the source material isn’t done yet, there are understandably some loose ends. This doesn’t especially matter since the show is mostly about the jokes, but when things do shift to drama, how much you enjoy it is proportional how not-cynical you are. It’s pretty typical shounen-romance drama with hint of DO ROBOTS HAVE FEELINGS thrown in. It does well to help one connect with the characters, but it’s easy to see how it’d turn the more cynical viewer off. As far as characters go, they’re all entertaining in their own eccentric ways and are given plenty of time to shine. As mentioned before, the harem doesn’t cover a full range of fetishes, but there’s a pretty good shot you’ll have a thing for one of the girls.

Alongside the animation quality and writing, the show’s direction doesn’t miss a beat when comes to delivering humour. With the drama the direction is more sedate and cliche, but that isn’t even worth mentioning. The show’s opening number is typical anison fluff, but it boasts an ending song for each of its 13 episodes. Each of these songs also comes with their own animation, most of which are pure gold.

Sora no Otoshimono is a near perfect example of how to do a silly harem show. The fanservice is well rendered and plentiful, the jokes hit hard, and it never really feels like it’s trying too hard. Now, if only they could find a way to successfully integrate the drama in without it feeling shoe-horned and cliche, then the show really would be perfect!

No, really, they do. That’s part of the reason I could in some ways relate to the main guy in Nyan Koi!. The similarities end there, however.

But yes, aside from making an attempt to get back on the blogging horse, why am I writing about Nyan Koi!? Well, amongst the sea of harem love comedies out there, Nyan Koi! stands out just a bit with its unique gimmick and sense of humour. Just a little bit, however. But before we get into all that, I may as well try to summarize the, uh, “plot” of the show in the next paragraph… like a real review.

Nyan Koi! is the story of Kousaka Junpei, an extraordinarily unlucky young man who happens to knock the head off of a statue of the local cat god, and incurs its wrath in the form of a curse. That curse being, Kousaka gains the ability to understand cats and has to help 100 of them with their problems, or else he’ll eventually turn into a cat himself. Considering he’s allergic to cats, one can see how this fate would be less than ideal. And since this is a shounen romance, there’s a harem of beautiful girls all vying for Kousaka’s attention, and are they sometimes related to the cats he has to save. This harem includes the traditionally sweet and caring (and primary love interest) Mizuno Kaede, the tomboyish childhood friend Sumiyoshi Kanako, the Yakuza heiress Ichinose Nagi, the eternally lost postal worker Mochizuki Chizuru, and the shrine maiden sisters Kirishima Akari and Kotone one of which is a by-the-numbers tsundere, the other of which is a creepy sadist and stalker. In addition to all of them are a whole host of wacky side characters like Kousaka’s family, the shifty priest that owns the aforementioned cat statue, and all the cats that Kousaka runs into.

Shounen/otaku romance shows can skew in a few directions, and Nyan Koi! skews towards being tongue-in-cheek. The show doesn’t take itself or what’s going on it terribly seriously. In fact, what keeps the show afloat is its use of humour, most of which relies on a lot of loud overreactions to things and in general has a habit of shooting everything over the top. As veterans of comedy anime will know, this isn’t terribly original (what is?) but it’s pretty funny if you get into humour like that. The romance section of the series is strictly by the book, but is balanced out well by the humour, and is sometimes a subject of joking itself. Like I said, this show isn’t terribly serious.

Despite the show’s cat gimmick, the girls are the real reason anyone is watching the show. The focus on helping the cats more or less goes away about half-way through the show, but they pop in every now and again to crack some jokes at Kousaka’s expense. The structure of the show falls back on traditional episodic TV-writing, so there’s not much in the way of serious cliffhangers or a strong romance plot that underpins everything. Characters will refer to past events, and their feelings and thoughts change over time, but things are primarily started and resolved in the span of each 24 minute episode.  This does the show well, since it’s not meant to be that serious anyway.

The characters are somewhat interesting spins on established archetypes, with my personal favourites being the flamboyant Ichinose Nagi and the wonderfully creepy Kirishima Kotone. Perverted mail woman Chizuru is almost up there, too. Mizuno is pretty typical, but she’s very cute and inspired mental cries of “moe~” every now and again. Sumiyoshi is a typical overbearing tomboy with a sharp tsundere edge, but did make her grand entrance in Mamba makeup, so that’s worth noting. As is typical with these shows, the side characters are a bit more off kilter than the main players, and provide a great amount of humour with their own antics. The show could do better with its talking cats, but they manage to pull of some pretty funny personalities with them, as well. It’s pointless to note whether or not these characters break any new ground (of course they don’t) but they’re all fun have a good share of humourous lines.

Design wise, things keep within modern anime convention, but have something of a sharp shounen magazine edge to them. There’s nothing particularly noteworthy about the animation, but it’s all well executed and never really looks lazy. The show’s direction changes between being hyper for humour sections, and being sedate for when the show decides to take its romance seriously. The background music isn’t anything of note, and the opening and endings are typical anisong compositions.

In the end, Nyan Koi! is pretty standard, but has a fairly strong humour element that pushes it beyond the norm just a touch. As one who partakes of shounen romance quite a bit, there are definitely shows I enjoy more, but Nyan Koi! certainly was not a waste of time, and was a pretty fun way to spend 24 minutes each week. If you’re looking for something light and fairly well executed, Nyan Koi! fits the bill perfectly.

Of all the people to write something about a Pizzicato Five album, I am the least qualified. I am neither a music person, nor am I cool enough. However, I’m a sucker for the music enough to write something about it, so I figure I’ll try my hand at a CD review, despite knowing nothing of music, music history or the music industry. This will not turn out well.

Being a poor student living on the wrong side of the Pacific, the only Pizzicato Five albums I could really get my hands on were those put up on the internet by awful pirates like me  for awful pirates like me. These albums were–of course–the more well known records put out by the group (at that point a duo consisting only of Konishi Yasuharu and Nomiya Maki) and were rife with their cleaner, snappier, more streamlined sound.

I quickly grew to like P5’s music, as it owed a lot to old jazz, soul, funk and whatever else P5 found cool enough to latch on to. This mix of sounds and influences resonated in me particularly because I grew up around a lot of jazz (particularly Bossa Nova) soul and funk music growing up, and all of these mixed together, presented in a uniquely Japanese package, was in some ways the ultimate fusion of childhood nostalgia and my modern day tastes. My love for P5 transformed into a general interest in cool-guy Shibuya-kei music, but I haven’t had much opportunity to explore the genre outside of a few acts, most of which aren’t even “real” Shibuya-kei. But I digress.

Even though I really liked P5’s music, there was something missing. What was lacking was a good number of full on jazzy tracks. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of P5’s stuff is pretty groovy, but of the albums I “had” there were few straight up jazz-inspired compositions. Which is just fine by me, but with the few short flings P5 had with the pure jazzy songs in these albums, I yearned for more. I then caught wind of one of their older albums–Couples–and managed to pick it up at my local BookOff during my time in Japan. Between listening to that album a lot over there, and having just come back into contact with it here in the US, I have to say that Couples is the jazzy slice of heaven I was looking for.

Inspired primarily by Burt Bacharach’s sound (According to the CD insert, anyway. “A collection of some Bacharach-ish syncopations and AABA’s…”, it reads.) Couples is defined by its slow horns and seductive strings as they work together to produce some of the most chill chill-out music I’ve ever heard. The tracks aren’t all slow, though. Far from it. The album dances between laid back tracks like its opening cover of Magical Connection and more upbeat numbers like What Now Our Love.

While I enjoy all the tracks on this album, I find myself gravitating towards the slower ones. Cuts like Magical Connection, Serial Stories, The Apartment and Two Sleepy People are perfect to listen to while sitting down with a glass full of something expensive, perhaps while puffing on a pipe. A lot of the tracks that fall somewhere between slow and upbeat such as Summertime, Summertime, They All Laughed, Seven O’ Clock News, The Odd Couple And The Others, and My Blue Heaven are also quite cheerful to listen to, breaking into smooth extended instrumental sections more often than not. My least favourites are actually the most upbeat tracks like What Now Our Love and Every Time We Say Goodbye. There’s nothing wrong with them per se, but I feel the energy present in them is better suited for P5’s later style. There’s a singular instrumental track on the album–Party Joke–which is a playful interlude that comes in near the end of the album’s 12-track run.

All of the tracks do great to fantastic jobs of interweaving the horns, strings and percussion into both simple and complex compositions that shift in tone from relaxing, to seductive, to just plain fun. An ever-present reverb in the background makes the album feel as if it was recorded in the 1960s as opposed to the late 1980s, and suggests a dream-like atmosphere across the disc. This would probably sound great on vinyl.

The vocals are primary reserved and laid back. Female vocalist Sasaki Mamiko’s voice is certainly more fitting than Nomiya’s in this CD–while Nomiya’s vocals in later P5 albums are more deliberate and full bodied, Sasaki’s are airy and natural, fitting the tone of the instrumentals. They seem effortless in a good way–as if singing well is just easy for her. Kamomiya Ryo provides the album with a masculine voice which works well alongside Sasaki, but on his own his vocals aren’t as enchanting.

Couples is a nice blast from the past, especially if you’re interested in what one of the most prolific Shibuya-kei acts sounded like before they hit it big. Free of a lot of the precise production of later P5 albums, Couples is a more natural sounding record that’s better suited for a quiet time than a party. I highly recommend picking it up. Not like my musical taste is worth anything, though.

(To learn more about Shibuya-kei, I recommend reading Marxy’s old articles on the subject.)

Before I proceed with this review–and I hope it won’t be too long–I’d just like the readers to keep in mind that my Japanese comprehension is still pretty bad, and I had to pee like crazy half-way through the film which resulted in me paying more attention to finding a good moment to slip out than actually watching the movie proper. Anyways.

I hadn’t actually heard of Summer Wars until I landed in Japan–I guess it didn’t really get much press or something, because the first time I saw anything about it was on Moetron’s season listing some months back. I was immediately taken by the Sadamoto character designs, as well news that it’d be made by the same team that brought us Toki wo Kakeru Shoujo. As time went on, I noticed that the film would be using some really Murakami Takashi-esque imagery throughout, which kind of put me off, but didn’t make me hate it on sight. Upon seeing the film now, the Murakami imagery wasn’t a problem at all… but other things did hold it back from being awesome.

The thing that hurts this movie the most is the fact that Tokikake’s boots are kind of difficult to fill. Tokikake is an extremely emotionally charged film, and I don’t think Summer Wars really lives up to that. Not that it really tries to, but what it aims at just doesn’t seem to be what you should be aiming for if you’re the guys who made Toki wo Kakeru Shoujo. It does aim high, and I think they hit their mark, but it seems they kind of missed what made Tokikake such a charming film.

To put it simply, the movie is far too plot centric.  You can read all about that here. Where Tokikake put character interactions and the like first, Summer Wars sets up its plot as the most important part. That wouldn’t be a bad thing, but when your plot is “country hicks have to defeat the rogue AI before it takes over the internet” it does leave something to be desired. And it’s not as if these characters are bad–they’re all spunky, energetic, eccentric and fun in their own ways, but there’s just too many of them! Running at nearly two hours long, the movie still doesn’t have enough time to expand upon its cast to the point that we can really care about them. Heck, I can only remember three of character’s names. But it’s not a bad movie. It’s a fine race-against-the-clock, sci-fi sort of thing, but when you take into consideration the kinds of heights that Tokikake leapt for (pun intended), it leaves one with a profound feeling of “that’s it?”

The movie looks fine. The animation is nice, fluid, and has lots of life. The main thing that bothered me, though, was that the characters didn’t seem as solidly rendered as the characters in Tokikake. They seemed to take on more blob-like existences when we got into medium shots, and faces became less-detailed than I would have cared for. The Murakami-influenced stuff is decent. I liked it better than I thought I would, but it still stinks of Murakami. Once again, it’s not bad, it just doesn’t seem to live up its predecessor.

In the end, even though I did go in with slightly low expectations, the fact that Summer Wars met them was kind of disheartening. It isn’t a bad movie. It’s a fine movie. It’s just not as good as the other one those guys made.

Those familiar with most daring hero of Japanese animation Shinbo Akiyuki through his works with studio SHAFT such as Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei are probably unaware of his other, lesser known works. There’s a reason for this, and that’s simply because these lesser known works aren’t terribly great. They’re directed fabulously, but often times Shinbo’s older work is just held down by some bad writing. Le Portrait de Petite Cossette, or the The Portrait of Little Cossette, or コゼットの肖像 is of a slightly higher pedigree than, say, Shin Hurricane Polymar, but it still suffers from what I will for now on dub as the “Shinbo OVA Curse.”

Cossette aims high, and at a place that I like. It’s a twisted love story between an older man and little, but kind-of-sort-of-ALREADY-DEAD girl. Our main man, Kurahashi Eiri works in an antiques shop and is fascinated by one of the antique glasses in the store’s collection. Within the glass he can see a figure of a girl going about her daily life–the titular Cossette. Through a series of crazy SoulTaker-like imagery, our cute Cossette comes to life by the end of the first episode, which is where their tragic love story spirals into pits of despair. There’s also some other characters who are really concerned with our main man–as they should be–but they really don’t do much.

I’ll go ahead and get the bad stuff out of the way. This writing is pretty confused. In the end, the story makes perfect sense, but there’s too many diversions. I think–on some level–the core plot is fine, but what takes away from it is all the extra stuff. While character dialogue tends to make sense, they do have habit of pontificating upon things that don’t really mean anything. Another thing that distracts the story is the existence of characters other than Kurahashi and Cossette–they do well to illustrate how people close to him feel about this whole thing, but the degree to which they get involved feels a touch pointless. On this same vein, the show doesn’t get to expand much on our cast of characters in its three, round-about-45-minute episodes, so they don’t leave much of an impression. Had the story focused more squarely on Kurahashi and Cossette, I feel it would have been better.

However, I don’t think that hurts the piece too much, as what really makes this is Shinbo’s direction. This is dark Shinbo. This is SoulTaker, and sometimes-maybe-if-you’re-lucky Tsukuyomi -MOONPHASE- Shinbo. It revels in twisted storyboarding, the old-style Shinbo colour palette (which is making a reappearance in Bakemonogatari), hard black shadows, and striking lighting situations, all set to creepy background music. It’s over-the-top. It’s good. What also helps is fairly good animation work. It’s nothing really spectacular, but it certainly does remind one of the days when “OVA quality” kind of meant something. There is some iffy 3D work here and there, which does cheapen the piece a bit, especially when the Golgo 13 skulls make an appearance. The character designs aren’t particularly memorable, but I like the realist look they have about them. Cossette herself is rather cute, in a sort of creepy, porcelain doll way.

Even though the direction is great, the writing does hurt because of what it could have been. Had the staff thought through the script a bit more, this show would have been pretty good, if not fantastic. It sadly gets distracted by too many weird, unnecessary things along the way. As I say in most of my reviews for these old Shinbo OVAs–watch it if you like the man’s work, as it’s pretty good in that respect. However, unlike Hurricane Polymar, Cossette’s decent enough that I’d recommend it with caution to certain people who may be into its subject matter. It’s not bad, but it’s not great.

There is a reason a show with a name as memorable as Butt Attack Punisher Girl that comes with a wild enough concept to match has been lost to the passage of time. Despite setting out to be a wacky, sexual and crazy parody show, it’s strangely not at all very funny.

This set of two OVAs–each running at about 45 minutes each–centers around a religious school which sets out to teach youngsters how to be fine members of society. There are a number of religious schools of thought gathered there, and among them is an evil religious cult known as the Black Buddha. When recently transferred, good-ol’-Christian-girl Tenchi Mari transfers in, she gets shouldered with the task of setting these wrong doers right when they capture her Hindu roommate Minami Saori. When praying to Christian divinities for help, only Buddha manages to come to the rescue, and gives Mari the power to transform into Gautaman–a turban-wearing supergirl sporting a hot fundoshi that runs right up her (Terasawa Buichi approved) ass. What ensues is a rancid tale of copyright infringement, love, violence, and lots of humour that’s not terribly well paced.

On paper, this show sounds incredible. And at times, it is rather incredible. However, what kills it is its pace. Each episode of this thing is 45 minutes long, and of those 45 minutes, about 15 minutes (that’s generous) are spent on actual jokes. The whole tone of the piece is very tongue-in-cheek, but that’s not enough to really elicit laughs. Blatant infringements upon copyright laws such as the masked sumo wrestler “Dark Vader” and The Terminator himself are charming, but the concept of them existing in a Japanese cartoon is funnier then when the creators of this show put it into practice.

Sure, there are some funny parts. There are a fair amount of good jokes spread throughout, but the aren’t shot at Pani Poni Dash/first season of Hayate no Gotoku rapid fire speed to make the show itself seem like a comedy over just some weird show with weird things happening in it. That’s really the big problem here. The show can be as depraved as it wants, but you need to throw some humour in there if you want to make people laugh. The show won’t win many points for animation either, so the whole thing just comes off as a little boring by the second episode.

That said, it’s not altogether bad. It has its charm simply as an obscure oddity, and watching it is a window into just what kind of shit was being produced during that OVA boom all those years ago. If you do hold some interest in old, strange and obscure anime from years ago such as I do, I’d recommend checking it out just because. It’s nothing special–especially now in this age where the parody show has evolved to a point where there needs to be a joke in every second of your runtime (see: Pani Poni Dash)–but it’s just kind of a neat thing to see. It’s not like it’s super long, or anything.

Oh, and it’s called Butt Attack Punisher Girl because she rams her ass into some of the baddies like once or twice.

When the Rebuild of Evangelion was first announced, series creator Anno Hideaki proudly proclaimed that this series of movies would be a bold re-imaging of his original 1995 television series. The first film, “Beginning” came and went, and it’s generally agreed that the first installment was simply the first six episodes of the TV show, just cut down to 90 minutes. There were some slight changes, but it was hardly a “bold re-imaging.” Fans put all their hopes on the sequel, “Division” to really blow their minds.

Having just seen this film on its opening day, I can quite happily say that Evangelion New Theatrical Version: Division, or Rebuild of Evangelion: You Can (Not) Advance does fully deliver on the promise Anno made back when he first announced this project.

The first film, Beginning, decided to open with familiar scenes, but right from its opening minutes, Division delivers something that was never a part of the original series beyond some expositional dialogue. To make it even better, it features the much advertised new character–Mari–showing off her skills. Beyond this spectacular opening scene, the movie establishes quite firmly that This Time It’s Going To Be Different. Events are clearly shuffled around, omitted, or changed. However, while movie 1 also changed and omitted things, it was obviously just for time purposes, or to plant seeds of interest for the following chapters. The changes this time around feel a lot more thought out, and work a lot better to make the movie feel more like a movie and less like a bunch of TV episodes cut together.

What also helps the movie flow better as a complete piece of work is the fact that very few scenes from the TV series are recycled. There are some spread throughout (they keep the famous elevator scene) but for the most part the movie is completely new. They do cover a lot of familiar events, but the execution is very different. One big difference is the Angels– there are some completely new ones, and existing Angels are modified in ways that make them extremely different from their TV counterparts–even more so than what was done in the first film. The Angles in this Evangelion take on a more abstract existence–they change, evolve, and are clearly very smart.

The best parts about this film are simply how it expands upon aspects of the TV series that were hinted at or not touched upon at all, re-writes events so that they flow well as a film, and how familiar events from the TV series are reproduced at a more epic scale. In short, this movie truly is the epic re-envisioning of Evangelion that Anno promised. In place of filler episodes like Magma Diver and Jet Alone (which are awesome, mind you) the movie takes time to expand upon the post Second Impact world. Other branches of NERV are shown to some degree, as opposed to being simply spoken about. The battles scenes have more tension, more urgency, and at times more obvious Daikon IV references than the original. Even the characterization is changed somewhat. The degree the which things are altered isn’t superficial. This stuff is clearly important.

Of course, the main selling point of this movie is simply how it ends. I wont go into it in any great detail right now, but while other changes in the movie are different and good in their own way, whether or not they one up the TV series is up for debate. However, once you reach the final 30 minutes of Division, you begin to see Anno’s bold new vision come into fruition. It is indeed a familiar scene from the TV series, but the degree to which it is changed, yet at the same time very much the same culminates in such a way that quite honestly drove me to tears, and really does well to separate itself from the original. It’s nothing short of amazing. Almost End of Evangelion amazing.

As far as technical aspects go, this movie looks just as good as the first one, if not better. Since this film features the introduction of Mari, it’s kind of interesting to see how her post-2000 character design (and personality) meshes with characters written and designed over a decade ago. As I keep mentioning over and over again, the battles are simply amazing, even if they are few and far between. The music is primarily re-done tracks from the TV series, but in addition to the new orchestral tracks, there are two quiet vocal songs which play at very pivotal moments and only serve to highlight those scenes a lot better than the TV series did with its over-the-top orchestral score.

There are some minor, nagging issues with this film, most of which lie in Asuka’s somewhat rushed characterization, but for the most part, this movie does well to make good on Anno’s promise. This truly is Evangelion for the 21st century. However, at its core, it’s still the same Evangelion we know and love, just one more time, with even more feeling.

I’m going to make an entry after this one with some spoilers. You can read it if you want.

I actually finished up Zettai Karen Children raw about three months ago on the flight over here to Japan, watched the sub about two months later, and am only getting around to writing about the show now. Yeah, it’s been busy.

However, I feel Zettai Karen Children is worth me taking about an hour or so of my free time to impart to you, the reader, how much of a fun, charming and crazy children’s cartoon Zettai Karen Children is.

Zettai Karen Children was originally a manga by Shiina Takahashi, with the anime version by Kawaguchi Keiichiro and the rest of the cool dudes down at Synergy SP. In other words, the dream team that made the better season of Hayate no Gotoku! The story takes place in a world where people who can use ESP–Espers–are common place. Our main characters three young esper girls, Akashi Kaoru, Nagomi Aoi and Sannomiya Shiho who are special, super powerful espers. Codenamed “The Children”, they do work for Babel, which is an organization of specially trained espers who fight crime around the world. Minamoto Koichi is the man in charge of these three espers, but he also functions as their surrogate father by looking after the girls’ day-to-day life, and even living with them. While episodes tend to be stand alone, the main plot focuses around Babel’s battle with P.A.N.D.R.A–a faction of espers who believe that they are superior to “normals”–people without special ablities–, and wish for a world in which only espers exist.

Zettai Karen Children didn’t really grab me with its initial episode, but I came to really like it as the weeks went by. The series from the get-go is kind of off-putting right down its more-’90s-than-’90s character designs, but once you give it a few episodes, it develops into a very fun show. As mentioned earlier, each episode is pretty stand alone, and the general routine goes something like this–something happens, be it a crime, a disaster, or just an accident; Babel is called, and somehow the problem gets resolved. There are however other more mellow episodes which focus around the girls’ school life, as well as the episodes that focus around secondary characters. The show is rather lengthy–52 episodes–so it has a lot of breathing room.

What makes the show good is just how well-written and entertaining each of the individual stories are. Each and every episode is simply very solidly written, and is complemented by very rapid-fire, fast moving direction that isn’t annoyingly crazy, but just crazy enough. The show is rather comedy-centric, with gags ranging from jokes based around character quirks, to full on parodies of shows you should have watched, but probably haven’t. It certainly does carry the parody show vibe of the first Hayate season (in fact, Hayate characters often make cameos), while at the same time delivering an entertaining plot episode after episode.

However, Zettai Karen Children addresses some serious issues. Sure, they’re presented in a very heavy-handed, kids show manner, but the fact that such ideas are even being presented to such an audience puts Zettai Karen Children a touch above your usual kids show. The issue of prejudice is a big one–espers aren’t normal people. They’re often separated from the rest of normal society, and there are even groups of people who actively display their hate for espers violently. There are often times scenes where our young, 10-year-old heroines confront this harsh reality, and try their best to just deal with it. Another rather mature-for-a-kids-show part of Zettai Karen Children is that P.A.N.D.R.A aren’t really portrayed as such bad guys. Much like Big Fire in Giant Robo, P.A.N.D.R.A doesn’t do what it does just to be evil–they’re simply fighting for their own idea of justice. The members of P.A.N.D.R.A are all fleshed out well enough so that you can really understand where they’re coming from. Especially their leader, Hyoubu Kyousuke. The rest of the issues the show addresses are kids show things like believing in yourself, but if you’re not a totally broken and cynical shell of a man, I still think such messages can be appreciated by adults.

Characters are the big thing that carry this show–all of them are painted with their own unique brand of insanity, but at the same time have multiple sides to them. The main characters, Kaoru, Aoi, and Shiho are of course very memorable for how adorably bratty they can be, but the show also has a rather strong set of side characters such as Umegae Naomi and her supervisor Tanizaki Ichiro, who has an unhealthy obsession with his subordinate, and always ends up with his face flat on concrete. Another amusing pair is “The Chief” and Kashiwagi Oboro, the former of which dotes on The Children like an overprotective parent, while the later has a sweet face, but a cold as ice interior. There’s also the hilariously perverted Dr. Sakaki, as well as the cheery welcome desk girls Tokiwa Natsuko and Nokawi Hotaru. Due to the show’s 52 episode length, all of the characters get a chance to shine.

The animation by Synergy SP is fine considering the length of the show–episodes never look especially terrible, and when they look good, they really look good. One note about the show’s visuals that I already mentioned is the character designs–they’re rather ’90s-styled, and will probably turn fans of more modern design work away. I will admit that they struck me as a bit odd as first, but I quickly came to love them. The only real problem with the character designs is that because they’re so detailed, some of the not-as-stellar looking episodes can kind of turn into slide shows–awesomely directed slide shows, mind you, but slide shows all the same.

Nakagawa Kotarou–one half of the musical talent behind Code Geass–provides a very swing, and at times big band inspired musical score that pays homage to 1970s spy movies for the show. Strangely enough, it complements everything perfectly. There are two opening themes–Over The Future, and My Wings, both by a group of young girls called Karen Girl’s, who made their debut with this show. There are four ending themes, and they’re all fun songs by the seiyuu.

Zettai Karen Children is simply a great time. While it is a kids show, it’s one of those kids shows that can appeal to adults, and clearly has certain portions aimed directly at adults. The jokes are all really good, the main story is rather interesting–even if it is unresolved by the end–and everything is presented in a solid, good looking, 52 episode package. While it may be something of an undertaking, I do recommend picking it up, even if you just want to watch it weekly. You’ll have fun with, I promise.

Reviewing this manga is a little tough for me. I read through its whole first volume raw, and while I got the general gist of things, a lot of fine details were lost on me. Someone had scanslated about a chapter and a bit of this, so I read through those to help me out. So, while I don’t really understand this comic, I’m going to try my hand at reviewing it anyway.

First, let’s set the scene: It’s France, in the second half of the 19th Century. Japonisme has swept the nation, along with a strong desire for modernization. These rapid changes in the times have brought despair to the shops in Galarie Du Roy, which is now in danger of closing its doors. One of these many shops, Enseignes du Roy, is now making an effort to sell Japanese goods to cash in on the French’s love for all things Japanese.

Claude, the man in charge of this shop, is startled when his older friend Oscar returns from Japan with not only Japanese goods, but a young Japanese girl! Her name is Yune, and she has come from Japan with a strong desire to work in France. In France, Yune learns to cope with the various cultural differences, and comes across a couple of colourful characters; such as the Japan-obsessed rich girl Alice, and a young thief.

Ikoku Meiro no Croisée is a unique manga that takes moe elements puts them against a rich historical backdrop. Since my understanding of this was pretty bad, I was mainly taken in by the artwork. Takeda Hinata is an amazing artist who can render detailed and convincing backgrounds splendidly. Her character art is also consistently incredible. The girls in this comic always wear lavish outfits that are rendered perfectly panel after panel, and while the men’s attire is more reserved, Hinata draws them solidly. Her work, while very detailed, never assaults your senses. Her lines are gentle, and flow naturally.

The story is pretty slice-of-life, but there’s decent helpings of comedy, and some drama. Each chapter more or less follows Yune as she gets acquainted with life in France. There are often misunderstandings, Claude usually gets mad, and Oscar chimes in with light-hearted comments every now and again. The characters aren’t really unique, but they’re fun people and their interactions are entertaining. Claude is at times a bit too much of a Manga Protagonist, but that doesn’t really take away from anything. Yune is cute, and Alice’s Japanophilia is absolutely adorable.

It’s a real great comic. If you like like amazingly detailed artwork, lolis, 19th century France, and slice of life antics, I suggest you give this a spin. Not much has been scanslated, but if you can read Japanese go for it.

I was a lot more excited to review Mazinkaiser before I actually watched it than I am now, but whatever. Let’s give it a try.

My experience with Go Nagai isn’t all the extensive, but it is pretty mixed. Out of the four things I’ve seen/read with his name on it, I’ve only really liked one of them. That was Re: Cutie Honey, and I liked that for the Gainax factor more than anything else. Other than Re: Cutie Honey, I’ve seen the Cutie Honey live action movie, which was ok; read the Devilman manga, which was absolutely terrible; and just now saw Mazinkaiser, which was ok.

From this rather brief experience with the man’s works, Go Nagai strikes me as more of an awesome ideas man. The idea of a super robot beating the crap out of mechanical monsters with terribly silly and impracticable designs week after week sounds cool, but in practice it seems kind of lame. Despite this apparent lameness, I’ve always had a desire to see a Mazinger-something series, simply because the work is so influential. So naturally I was quite excited when I found out that my local library had Mazinkaiser– a new-ish seven episode OVA set in the Mazinger universe– available to check out.

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I’m a pretty big Lupin fan, but I have to admit– the series hasn’t held up all too well since the 1980s ended. Sure, some of the ’90s specials were good, and Episode 0 was almost a masterpiece, but for the most part modern Lupin productions just… suck. I went into Green VS Red with low expectations, but at the very least expected a confrontation between a green jacketed Lupin and a red jacketed Lupin. And I got that. Along with a lot of other shit.

Before I go any further, let me set the scene: Green VS Red is an OVA meant to commemorate 40 years of Lupin, and to the film’s credit it does this spectacularly. In fact, I’d even venture to say that the entire point of watching this at all is for the sheer amount of Lupin fanservice and general otaku antics. The movie makes excuses time and time again just to make throwbacks to older Lupin works. For example: The film opens with a scene that involves millions of Lupin impersonators wreaking havoc on a city, which reminiscent of an episode from the 1971 TV series. Other bits of Lupin fan-pandering involve a scene in which all the Lupin character designs from the past 40 years are shown side by side, or flashing one after another; a scene with Lupin watching The Castle of Cagliostro; and an amazing 30 second sequence which is animated in Monkey Punch’s signature sketchy and crazy style.

Sadly, the story for this one is just a mess. There’s a bunch of elements thrown out there that, in the end, don’t really come together. It seems they only put a white guy in the movie just so they could have the real life white guy they had in the studio do some bad English voice acting. Similarly, they gave this one Lupin impersonator an afro just so he could look like Nabeshin. And there was a giant robot. No, really.

What saves most of these new Lupin productions are the characters. Even if a Lupin story sucks, these things are least kept watchable due to the series’ charming characters. Sadly, most of them don’t get much screen time. The main focus is on the conflict between Lupin and Yasuo (the main Lupin impersonator, who is named after the late Yasuo Yamada– Lupin’s old seiyuu) while the rest of the characters are pushed more into the background. Fujiko probably gets the least screentime, because I guess they wanted to hide the fact that her seiyuu is something like 70 years old now, and they also wanted to give Aya Hirano’s character more lines.

Fujiko aside (who really doesn’t sound all that bad after 40 years) the rest of the seiyuu have aged pretty well. Jigen and Goemon still sound about the same as they did 40 years ago, and Kurita’s Lupin is fine, but will never live up to Yasuo Yamada’s legendary work. The voice which has probably aged the most is Goro Naya’s Inspector Zenigata. In older Lupin productions, his perforamaces were filled with lots of energy, but these days (or at least in this special) Zenigata sounds very old. It works, though. One thing that’s always bothered me about most Lupin animated things is how Zetigata is often played for a fool. This was not so in the original manga, and I like how they brought some of that back for this OVA. He still gets to yell RUPAAAAAAAAAAAN, though.

I sound like I hate this movie, but it actually wasn’t too bad. If you want some good Lupin fanservice, it’s all here, but if you want a good Lupin story, watch the older stuff. I wish these new writers would stop trying to copy off of the old stuff and just make something that captures the spirit of the old stuff, but tells a completely new story. I understand it’s a tall order, but if they could do it with Episode 0, they could do it again.

Alright, I’m just going to come out and say it: The Golgo 13 movie (or, Golgo 13: The Professional, as it’s known in the States) is an absolutely horrible movie. Having just seen about 14 episodes of the TV series, I knew kind of what I was in for, but never did I guess that this movie would reach such heights of complete unadulterated terribleness. This is pure garbage, ladies and gentlemen, and it’s absolutely the worst thing one could ever think to watch. And that’s what makes it worth searching out.

When I say searching out, I mean Google searching. This movie is not by any means worth your money. It’s junk, but it is worth pirating, and you do get your effort’s worth in the end, since this movie is terribly entertaining for the 90 minutes that it runs. It’s a party that plays out like a pulpy comic book, with stunts that defy the laws of everything, larger than life characters that could never exist in this world and 3D CG skeletons that fire revolvers into 3D CG skulls. It’s almost a perfect mix of pure and utter shit that just nearly pushes this movie into “so bad it’s good” territory.

Just nearly, though. What keeps this movie from working at its full potential is Dezaki’s direction. For some reason, the man treats this as an art film, taking every possible moment to be as goddamn experimental as possible. This however isn’t altogether a bad thing. In fact, I quite liked what he was doing until the last 20 or so minutes, when shots just stopped making sense. It’s the climax of the film– there’s no room for awkward directorial choices that entail repeating the same frame of a crazed old man’s face over and over again on the screen; nor is there room to break out the 1983 computers to render some helicopters that look straight out of Comanche 3D. Except worse. Yeah, I know you guys thought that 3D opening was cool– I thought it was ok myself– but seriously, 1983.

Speaking of that opening, it’s quite a piece of work. It would be almost good if they could’ve worked out how to make the animation not jump all the fucking time. Perhaps also mix in some cel-animated naked ladies to go along with that snazzy jazz piece for the full James Bond effect.

Anyways, time to cool down. I’ve shat on this thing long enough, so let’s switch gears and talk about the stuff I didn’t find totally awkward or ironically good. The animation is really great 80s stuff– very fluid and organic looking, with great lighting and shading effects. There are a few unfinished cuts floating around the film, but they’re few and far between. The music is also wonderfully 80s, and suits the film well. It’s a lot better than that horrible synth shit they use in the new TV series.

Really, the only thing that keeps this film from being totally BALLS TO THE WALL awesome is Dezaki’s approach to directing this thing. Which is weird, since he can do stuff like this well. The Space Adventure Cobra TV series is a great straight up action piece, and has no pretensions at all. But then again, the Cobra movie, also by Dezaki, is another wannabe art movie. Maybe he feels he has to prove himself as a director when he’s making big things– I don’t know. But what I do know is that the only person who can make that kind of shit work is Shinbo, as demonstrated in his confused masterpiece SoulTaker.

But with all that said, I do recommend this film for a one off, or for something to watch with your buds. It’s very entertaining, not too long, and delivers pure 1000% trash, even with all that distracting arthouse direction.

Japanese Schoolgirl Inferno: Tokyo Teen Fashion Subculture Handbook by Patrick Macias and Izumi Evers, with illustrations by Kazumi Nonaka

The image of the Japanese schoolgirl is one that many a Japanophile fantasize over and romanticize to ridiculous degrees. But really, who can blame them? With the way that these girls are presented in anime, manga and games, you’d think they were were angels straight out of heaven. However, those of us keen enough to realize that Japan isn’t at all like its cartoon counterpart know that such an image simply doesn’t jive with reality. However, upon opening this book, one notices quickly that the reality behind these girls is much stranger than the fiction.

Japanese Schoolgirl Inferno takes us straight into the belly of the beast without any warning. The introduction throws you into a club with Patrick and crew as they do some research for the book you’re holding in your hands. The image painted by this opening text is one of youth, excitement and energy. Nothing too strange, really. But as your eye scans these opening pages and actually starts to notice the accompanying photographs, you realize that this whole affair is anything but normal. And once the introduction ends, things really get weird. In the best possible way, of course.

Spanning from the late 1960s to the present day, Inferno covers all the major movements in Japanese girls’ fashion, complete with interviews, photos and Macias’ unique brand of writing. In each chapter, Macias puts you right in the middle of the movement, involving you with these girls and their era personally. Simply put, it feels like you’re there. This is actually pretty incredible, considering Macias himself wasn’t even around to experience some of these movements, which just goes to show how great this book is.

It’s evident a meticulous amount of research and love went into writing this, as each chapter contains a comprehensive history of each movement, but at the same time is presented in a very conversational manner. Macias talks to you. He knows this stuff back to front. He’s seen some of this stuff happen, and for the stuff he missed, he talks to people who were there, reads old magazines and just digs around. Then he just tells it all to you, and you simply can’t help but be mesmerized.

This book isn’t all a history lesson, though– as the title states, it’s a handbook. So, between Macias’ witty and entertaining discourses on various fashion movements, the book comes with various “How To” guides, “Day In The Life” segments, interviews with current/former Gals, and each chapter ends with a list of “Must Have” Gal items complete with “Ideal Boyfriend.” This mixture is one that produces a most entertaining read.

Another notable aspect about this book is the design and illustration work. Izumi Evers, the designer, lays out the book very well, and pushes the aesthetics appropriately over-the-top to compliment the subject matter. Similarly, Kazumi Nonaka’s illustrations are detailed, colourful and have a doll-like look to them that works well with Macias’ witty writing style, and interacts nicely with Evers’ design work.

Japanese Schoolgirl Inferno is simply a great book. It’s fun to read, informative, and just nice to look at. If there needs to be complaints to make this review complete, the ending of this book is a bit abrupt. It would have been better if there was a closing statement after the final chapter– a section where Macias could reflect on all this and provide some witty opinions. But that’s being nitpicky. It does come with this “WHAT GAL ARE YOU” test at the end, which is clearly hours of fun for the whole family.

Go out and buy this if you haven’t already. You don’t even have to care about fashion or Japan at all– this book will make you care. Because it’s that good.

Me being the artsy fartsy douchebag that I am, I always look forward to independent anime productions and try to get my hands on as many as possible (though, I’m kind of lame in this respect– I needs me some more indie anime.) As such, I have been looking forward to Eve no Jikan for a while– probably for something like… two years? Whenever the first poster came out. Right when I saw it, I was hooked. It just looked good.

And about two years later I can say with confidence that, yeah, it looks good.

But before I talk about how it looks, let’s focus on the story. You don’t get much from this first 15-minute part, but I liked how it played out. The concept is kind of been-done SF stuff, but it’s done well and works. The characters are all also been-done archetypes, but once again are all written well and don’t really detract from anything.

Where this thing really shines is in the artwork, animation and direction. Eve no Jikan’s directorial approach is closer to that of a film, rather than that of a cartoon. The crew treats the world as one that exists in three-dimensions, resulting in a number of cool shots. Sure, there is a good helping of anime flatness in the piece, but at times there will be the odd shot taken from the first person view of the main character, or things will go all Akiyuki Shinbo-styled shaky-cam for a bit.

The animation itself is also gorgeous, and compliments the ambitious camera work perfectly. Scenes are always well lit, characters always look good, and the backgrounds look way cooler than Shinkai backgrounds. Character designs subscribe to typical anime rules of design, but at the same time look unique and attractive. Everything is rich, well detailed, and does well in immersing you into this (perhaps) not-so-distant SF future.

I have hope for Eve no Jikan, and feel it is a strong contender for best anime of the year already. While the basic parts are kind of cliché, the show more than makes up for it in its execution. This is style of production is what all anime should strive for.