Category Archives: Modern Visual Culture

Puella Magi Erandis d’Vol

I like my tea and cake anime, but I like my high brow drama anime too. Too bad the latter require some major spoilerage to get flushed out. Thus, warning, spoilers, let there be.

It is the oddest sort of connected thoughts, but when Quebey discussed the nature of magical girls in Madoka’s universe (episode 6), it spelled out much like a more logically constructed D&D-style lich. In other words, QB makes them into liches.

And once I made that connection, there is nothing really shocking about it. I understood why it is a dramatic moment, that it broke even Kyoko’s poker face, but it wasn’t a big deal. It’s much like how Homura just went and got it, what’s the big deal?

When Urobuchi’s magical girls polish off their soul gems-slash-phylactery with magical grief seeds, what is really happening? What is QB doing with them in his magical container sort of thing? I guess souls are delicious.


Compulsion about the Star Driver Puzzle – Vanishing Age

Star Driver is kind of like a fable. People in the show act out stuff, in representation of higher concepts and ideas, in service of themes. Or at least, that is how it is represented with characters larger than life and brighter than a shooting star. Or something. The problem is these characters all clearly are employed by somebody, and it has become irritating when they don’t say who that somebody is. It’s like when you are being told a fable, you kind of just want to get to the bottom of it, to spin that wheel of morality already and see what the final answer is.

I’ve been pretty okay about Star Driver when it comes to that compulsion, so far. However the recent episodes featuring the Vanishing Age really tickled my fancy. I mean, let’s look at the names of the Kiraboshi Juujidan factions. Unlike Urobuchi, we know Yoji Enokido is not trolling us, right?

  • Filament – It’s bright, but more importantly, it burns out. It also makes Kiraboshi Brigade what it is, or at least the Kiraboshi part. We’ve had the episode about the “glittering of youth,” so perhaps this symbolizes the literal glittering part of youth. Also, filament, an man-made creation, is great foil to the naturally-apprivoise-able Galactic Pretty Boy. It’s tough to beat fusion for brightness.
  • Adult Bank – I thought this one is obvious. But why “Adult” when there are no adults in it? I can’t say for Bouganville, but Vanishing Age and the Science Guild surely have adults? I could also point to the relationship between Leon Watanabe and his teenage bride, but that would be obvious, so the not-as-obvious point here is something about the wealth kids have that are not really theirs. Kanako lives in the shadow of her husband, that much we know for sure.
  • Science Guild – I thought this one is even more obvious. And this one is also the most over-the-top. Can I have Rinko as my First Stage?
  • Bouganville – Besides being the largest of the Solomon Islands (now an independent nation) and that Japan occupied it during WWII, the only thing to say about it is that it is actually an “island in the south.” It makes sense in that it has a flavor of locality and tradition behind it, as applied to the members of this subsection. (Human civilization on the Solomon Islands do date back pretty far.) All two of them, at this point, anyways. Maybe the events of WWII can serve as a possible hint.
  • Vanishing Age – Well this is where…I stop bulleting and start to make the point I was trying …to make.

When I was thinking about putting the puzzles together, I was influenced by this NY Times piece. Generation gap is actually a big issue facing American society today as well, but Japan is really getting screwed–so screwed, that we use a more technical and all-encompassing term, “Generational Inequality.” The socio-econo-political aspect aside, the Times piece paints an image that, hopefully, resonates with Japanese college pre-post-grad/super-seniors struggling to find happiness in their line of work and their near-future. It is a future that is, not unlike Head’s sunset, turning darker each passing moment.

The old boys club, the high-class lounge, the back-room deal made under a cloud of cigarette smoke and over some fine Suntory whisky are a thing of the past. There is your Vanishing Age. That is your modern vice that rocketed Japan to its global economic plateau, perhaps at the cost of its first-born sons and daughters. Looking from that perspective, the Kiraboshi section titles become

  • People who tries, even if it looks like they’re faking it
  • People who can’t get out from under their fetal silver spoons, no matter how accomplished they are
  • Otaku
  • People stuck in the old ways
  • People on elevators

But that is just one interpretation, and you might be able to do better. Also, we clearly see that Vanishing Age represents a group of people who are truly elite, who are born with “the mark” and who use it to reinforce its own elite status. Injecting a dose of real world problem into this fairly modern fable is more nuanced than one might imagine.

All this, just to capture that spark. Will it cure Japan’s problems? DUN DUN DUN.


Melting to Wandering Son’s OP

It’s really weird, but somehow I really like Hourou Musuko’s OP. By Winter 2011 anime on Japanese TV standards, it’s not a happening OP. For noitaminA standards, it’s not a happening OP. In fact it’s basically the polar opposite of Kuragehime OP. Maybe because it is so out of place, that it ranks at the top of my favorite OP/ED this season.

I think Kuragehime OP is a good point of comparison. The dynamic and lively chain of references aside, the song “Koko Dake no Hanashi” is one of Chatmonchy’s better works–at least from a non-fan’s perspective–and it is great accompaniment to a happily-paced romantic comedy. On the other hand, I simply melted to my seat when folksy upstart Daisuke played out his “Itsudate.” during the opening of Hourou Musuko. I’m not sure what it was or why it happened, but there was something that was able to grab my attention, help me focus, and make me soak in the watercolor landscaping and the simple guitar chorus, on a dime.

If I had to guess, it was the watercolor credits hovering eerily over the empty school scenes. It came with an English translation. Three-Dee English translation. If that doesn’t draw your fancy, well…

The funny thing is, from some kind of objective sense, the OP to Hourou Musuko is all messed up. There are different kind of visual elements clashing together; it’s largely full of computer generated visuals, and (again) nothing really happens, yet it is almost the first thing we see in each episode. It works for me, but I can’t imagine it working for the average Western anime person. What is going on here?

This is just one part of the conspiracy. To see the big picture, we have to talk about theme (a little). Soft focus? That’s a good place to start. It’s like digestive juices of a pitcher plant, blending together character animation, background, colors, themes, and viewers like you.

One of the themes as expounded upon by others within Wandering Son is loneliness and finding common ground as a way to bring people together. I think the OP plays right in by cranking the folksy nostalgia lever up to 10 and lets you fill in the blank on your own. That’s why the school is empty, anyways. The show works when we project ourselves, when we engage our powers of empathy. The anime works because it invites us to do so. Even if you never had a problem with any of the problems the characters from the show faced, you can put yourself in that empty school. [And you can imagine how much more so for people who can really identify with the cast.]

Anyway, I melt when I watch the OP each week. It’s almost like the whiplash Rie Fu is now serving up weekly in the ED, except it is reversed; the OP buys us in, the ED flips out the trump card and collects the winning. There is a method to this not-so-madness.

And we didn’t even get to talk about transgender stuff! But hey, them otaku love it when a plan comes together. That plan is having a visual direction that is a part and extends the thematic content of the story. And it’s a grand plan.

PS. This is the best anime since K-ON at this trick. And I have no idea why a carnivorous plant was referenced in this post. Food chain identity disorder?


Sequel Tuesday: More Shows I’d Like Mined

I was playing GameDevStory recently, and sequels? They’re grand.

With Gonzo’s revival and plans for more Last Exile, that got me thinking–what golden age early 2000/late 1990s show would I like? And LOL did I just call it golden age? It’s when anime was just making its strides over in America, so I have a particular attachment to that era. I don’t know if I can say the same about the shows from that era: they weren’t really that good. Maybe I could say the same about shows from any era, as long as the number of shows from then is greater than a statistically significant number. Anyways, here are some things I’d like to see–

More Vampire Hunter D. The original Vampire Hunter D novels are pretty much pulp hack-and-slash fics that kind of gimps on that visual kei imagery so stereotypically associated with those musical artists. Of course D is not about music, but about a badass half-vampire person killing things. And sometimes about his badass (usually) non-human acquaintances that often end up dead. I thought the original movie and the subsequent remake did pretty okay to convey a degree of grit, but they could do better on the glam and glitz. Even worse, the action was just not very, well, hack-and-slash. Don’t get me wrong, they had those things in it, but they were not so much a core part of the viewing experience beyond being token genre identifiers. I mean, we watch D  anime because it has cool action scenes. So a D anime with a lot of said cool action scenes would be the ideal way to go.

Witch Hunter Robin. Shoukou Murase bombed his Ergo Proxy bid, and not entirely because it sucked. It just lacked that something which Robin had a lot of. What is it, I don’t know, but I can tell you that Robin is still a character that charms me so many years after her last appearance. Like Last Exile, it is also ripe for a spinoff. It has a fairly open and easy-to-work-with setting. It has a very solid art direction and aesthetics, so a sequel would do well to follow suit. The story may be what’s weak about Robin, but it wasn’t its weakest point. Still it followed a rather straightforward template and people would enjoy even watching the same story unfold, just better executed the second time around, if it happens. Now it is actually besides the point if Robin or any of the original cast makes a return, but cameos would be more than welcomed.

I would totally say Trigun, but having seen Badland Rumble I think it puts that thought out of mind.

Like D, I think the world can use more Full Metal Panic. The problem is I’m not sure how much more we can pull out of that franchise. And I mean it in a spinoff-neutral sense. I wouldn’t really mind another TSR or Fumoffu equally, even if one is much better than the other and I do like Fumoffu much more than any other part of the series. In fact, I can barely stand anything else about the series, having tried them. Hopefully another spinoff anime would salvage the series in some degree for me.

While nothing can quite touch the original Boogiepop Phantom, it is a much more preferrable thing to see sequels of than, say, Serial Experiments Lain. Boogiepop just has the added attribute of a light novel series that has been milked dryer than the Gobi Desert. I think there’s a lot of treadmill crap in that series, especially when compared to the high bar the first book has set, but at the same time there are some stuff worth animating.

These are just a handful. I can continue, especially if I creep up on the time line and hit mid 2000s shows… What are some of yours?


Organizational Management, Ouroboros Wave

Getting warmed up for MoshiDora fer reals dudes.

I exchanged a couple words with 2DT a couple days ago over twitter, and he reminded me how despite Spice & Wolf is a sheep in wolf’s disguise in terms of hard-hitting econ concepts (ie., it’s kinda basic as far as econ concepts go), it forwards some key big-picture notions to a hopefully-young-enough audience that they may be intrigued by them. In the first book the biggest one of these is the notion of silver content as it ties into the power, wealth and prestige of a country issuing them, and how even you could have a ton of money, it can still bankrupt you because some bits of information get leaked (namely, how your money has the just the tiniest less amount of silver than previously thought), despite that there is intrinsic value in silver. I thought learning how to charm a wolf-woman was the far more practical advice offered in the light novel series, the art of relating with somebody in which the bargaining chips are not so easily quantified.

We can extend the same views to Ouroboros Wave, the somewhat-neglected Haikasoru title from late last year. I think it came out with Rocket Girls (which I also finished recently), and since it is kind of this generic not-so-near SF anthology about human colonization of the solar system that feels almost too stereotypical, it didn’t get a lot of attention. I think the fact that it is an anthology hurts it; as a series of short stories there aren’t much in terms of the overarching threads connecting the story other than the setting. A few characters show up in a couple different stories, but it doesn’t matter if you read the story they were first from since only one interesting thing carries over, and it wasn’t a big deal if you missed it. At least, other than the setting, of course.

A strength and weakness shared by most of these short stories is that they all have the same kind of theme and concepts, may it be a story about catching a terrorist on Mars or investigating alien life under the polar ice cap of Europa, the same kind of “magic wand” gets waved around. The story is not very strong on characters, except perhaps the first of these. On the other hand, the strong similarities in theme and concept it has with other franchises like Crest of the Stars and Mobile Suit Gundam (UC timeline) enables some decent comparisons. At the same time though, it shows how those two series entirely overshadow this one when it comes to characterization.

What I want to pick on is Ouroboros Wave’s incessant notion of organization. I understand this is coming from a Japanese cultural context. And frankly Japan is not known for its progressive, productive and innovative management styles in their corporate environment. The social structures and culture just don’t allow for it. Looking at it from that perspective, the notions proposed in Ouroboros Wave in regards to its modular and performance-driven organizational society is a radical notion. It’s almost Borg-like in that there’s an unstated equality between everyone in terms of understanding their role in the mission of their lives, and it’s very Japanese. At the same time it goes to criticize hierarchy and the forceful fitting-in, that passive-aggressiveness in which is part and parcel with that sort of work culture.

It would be fine and another not-very-noteworthy footnote to Ouroboros Wave if I saw it from that perspective. To me, organization management is just like any other branch of information technology or logistics in which we can empirically march towards a technologically superior mode as t approaches infinity. Just like how we didn’t have airplanes 200 years ago and spaceships 100 years ago, we didn’t have the assembly line 200 years ago or Scrum 100 years ago…

And the problem is, while the proposed organizational structure in Ouroboros Wave escapes the worst kind of mistakes (that Nisioisin makes regularly: being outright outdated by today’s standards or completely wrong), they were kind of just there. It’s like telling the reader how there’s FTL drive, and you keep on talking about there’s this FTL drive, but you never even wave your hand to explain how it works beyond current understanding of these things. In other words there’s no equivalent of a “warp bubble” in Ouroboros Wave’s notion of organizational structure. It is as if the way people organized themselves today was not subject to any kind of rational reason as to why they do it in the first place. I guess “the webs” is kind of that? Or a break with tradition (which would sell to a Japanese audience I suppose)? But it seems like an answer to the wrong question. I mean maybe it’s just that the company I work for operates in a manner not too unlike the one described in the book (Earth is not exactly small, after all), so I know some of the challenges are in those situations. Ouroboros Wave addressed none of them, and that is a big letdown in my opinion.

Still, I guess to some people (since this is mostly targeted for young teens and teens) it can be an eye-opening kind of thing. Like how the popular understanding of technology applies not just to Dysonspheres and personal electronics, but also project management and corporate governance, or how currency trading involves large volume and fast reactions. It’s the usual head trick of applying today’s tech to illustrate a bright future, in the meanwhile teach some curious reader a thing or two about something they wouldn’t know. I just didn’t think Ouroboros Wave did a good job at that.