Anime Review: Totally Spies!

Totally Spies!

• Studio: Marathon 
• Network: TF1 (FRA), Teletoon (CAN), Cartoon Network (USA) 
• Air Dates: 3 November 2001 - 2014* 
• Episodes: 156* 
• Creators: Vincent Chalvon-Demersay, David Michel 

*As of this writing, the 6th season has not yet aired in the United States and may or may not have aired in Canada. Concrete information on this show, including its recent airdates, is sparse.

Ladies and gentlemen, I've teased this review a number of times when I started this blog, but I've never been able to work up the material to finish it. But with the Strawberry Dragon Project's 5-year anniversary looming this month, I figure it would be a suitably symbolic time to get it out of the way. So let's do this: it's time to review Totally Spies!.

Back in the early 2000s, Western culture went through some sort of spy-fiction boom in movies, TV, and video games. I'm not completely sure why; maybe it had something to do with the James Bond franchise returning from hiatus in 1995, and it took a little more time to set in. These stories sought to copy the "exciting" surface elements of latter-day Bond, but threw the important stuff like characterisation to the wayside. This movement gave us options for both grown-up (xXx with Vin Diesel) and younger (Agent Cody Banks with Frankie Muniz) audiences, and few if any were rembered fondly in the long run. Heck, even the Bond franchise itself ended up feeling like one of those wannabes at some point. If you wanted anything with any depth of characters or plot, you'd have to turn to sleeper hits like the Bourne trilogy (i.e. The Bourne Identity with Matt Damon). Thankfully, it was those very sleeper hits which shaped the direction of Bond itself when it came back from yet another hiatus, in 2006's Casino Royale with Daniel Craig. But for the most part, we had to console ourselves with junk like Totally Spies!.

The titular spies are three high-school girls from Beverly Hills. Their numbers are Sam (EN: Jennifer Hale, FR: Claire Guyot), Clover (EN: Andrea Baker, FR: Fily Keita), and Alex (EN: Katie Leigh / Katie Griffin, FR: Céline Mauge). Sam is the smart straight-man and unofficial leader of the team, Clover is the most boy- and fashion-crazy out of the three, and Alex is the sporty tomboy who occasionally bridges the gaps during Sam and Clover's arguments. The girls' personalities do overlap from time to time, as is common among friends (I assume), but for the most part they never evolve past their archetypes, if not stereotypes. And annoying archetypes, if not stereotypes, at that. Maybe it's just my educated masculine upbringing talking, but the way these girls blow their civilian-life issues so out of proportion makes it harder for me to sympathise with them. Clover especially is the worst in this regard -- I'm pretty sure she even complains about breaking a fingernail at some point. That's the level of intelligence we're dealing with here, peoples.

The many Clover-vs-Mandy arguments are showdowns of annoying versus annoying.

As is common for this type of "Get up, go to school, save the world" show (see also: the Mystical Ninja anime I reviewed way back when I started this blog), the episodes are framed by B-plots centred around dilemmas in the girls' public lives. Most of them feature Mandy (EN: Jennifer Hale, FR: Céline Mauge), a girl much like Clover, except snobby and antagonistic. Also she looks like Rebecca Black, but without the kind personality that made her crimes against music forgivable. (Man, I really must have mellowed out on "Friday" since then...). If nothing else, she serves to make Clover and company look good by comparison. There are also the numerous anonymous hunks whom our girls attempt various degrees of shacking-up with, but a scant few show up in more than one episode. The most recurring boyfriend prospect is the long/tan/handsome David, but he never gets the chance to have any real character development, and is essentially discarded after the first few seasons. He's basically this show's answer to Sylvia Trench. (Remember her? James Bond's on-again-off-again girlfriend from the first two movies?)

But the "Save the world" part of this "Get up, go to school, save the world" setup is the meat and potatoes of this show. The girls' civilian troubles must, inevitably take a backseat to actual international crises, delivered by their handler Jerry (EN: Jess Harnell / Adrian Truss, FR: Jean-Claude Dunda) and his organisation. Said organisation is saddled with the name of World Organization Of Human Protection, commonly pronounced as WOOHP. *sigh* ...Yeah, apparently this show's writers have a propensity for painful acronyms. If you're hoping for anything of the calibre of "Every Villain Is Lemons (EVIL)" from that one SpongeBob episode, don't. It's even more painfully unfunny then how, EVERY -- SINGLE -- EPISODE, they get summonned into WOOHP headquarters by way of getting sucked into a trap door or some such hidden hole. If you didn't have the right context on hand, you could imagine that WOOHP is in fact a police state that somehow took over the Los Angeles metropolitan area. (By the way, do you think Jerry might be a fan of Excel Saga? This show would be more interesting if our girls took orders from Il Palazzo, I tell you what.)

Furthering the episode-to-episode routine, Jerry follows up just about every mission briefing with a pre-selected array of gadgets; purpose-built devices incorporated into objects which would would look normal on a normal person of their type. And yes, this also gives them opportunities for more painful acronyms, most egregiously with the dive-helmet called the "UPWATI". I warned you there'd be more. First of all, what's the matter, never heard of on-site procurement? Like they made such a big deal out of in Metal Gear Solid? I swear, these gals wouldn't last a minute on Shadow Moses Island. Seriously, I do have some constructive criticism to this setup. My biggest problem is that it's all so contrived. Jerry always picks out the gadgets for them, without any input from the spies themselves, and they all serve a coincidentally specific use in furthering their investigation or escaping from a deathtrap. And yeah, I know James Bond did the same thing too, but he never gave the impression of being helpless without them. Said impression cannot be made of the titular Totally Spies. If I had control over this show, I'd let the girls pick their own gadgets, making them think about the situations that would present themselves ahead. Or is that too dangerously close to character development for this show? Also, can we address the vivid green, red, and yellow catsuits the spies or their superiors thought would be a suitable uniform? I guess I know why they get captured so often, then.

They may come through in the end, but our girls are generally terrible spies,
in case those bright catsuits didn't tip you off already.

From then on, episodes generally follow a pattern of investigation, infiltration, discovering the villain-of-the-day, getting caught by the villain-of-the-day, escaping the deathtrap-of-the-day by way of gadgets, and finally catching the villain-of-the-day. I'm not saying they should tie every episode to one another in an ongoing arc. And I'm not saying that monster-of-the-day (or in this case, villain-of-the-day) shows can't be good, either. Neon Genesis Evangelion was at its best when it did the monster-of-the-day thing, as you may recall me saying. But Totally Spies! just doesn't have the right stuff to pull it off. Whereas some of these shows have some kind of evil organisation tying the monsters-of-the-day together and providing the promise of some kind of climax to look forward to, Totally Spies! doesn't have this, for the most part. I say "for the most part" because the later seasons introduce a team of recurring villains known as... LAMOS. Ladies and gentlemen, you have my permission to facepalm.

 Anyway, the villains at least get some sort of backstory, usually in the form of them having been shot down for a job/role/date/whatever, and them exacting excessive revenge via some form of doomsday device, and not practical ones either. Over the course of the series, the villains use (real?) stage magic, extraterrestrial aliens, and a satellite-mounted freeze ray with intent to freeze the entire Earth over, so yeah, this show plays hard and loose with the idea of reality. You'd think I shouldn't complain about realism, as I have a webcomic which incorporates magic into an otherwise realistic historical setting. But some things are beyond my limits of disbelief suspension, like how a gourmet food critic is entitled to complain when served a 200-ounce steak.

For the record, I'm still keeping the "Anime Review" tag in the title of this article despite this show not having been conceived in Japan, but rather the French and/or Canadian studio Marathon. Coincidentally, French also uses the word "animé" to refer to animated productions as does Japanese (minus the accent on the 'e'). It's furtherly funny I should mention this, because Totally Spies! does rely heavily on the Japanese anime aesthetic for its design and art style. It's "Animesque", if you will. It's a shame they did it so sloppily though, as not only does the animation lack the fluidity of motion and dynamic scene composition I've come to associate with Japanese anime at its best, but animation and continuity errors are fairly common if you look. I'm not normally the type to look out for this sort of thing, but the one scene where Clover and Mandy are arguing with their voices accidentally switched (no seriously, this is a thing that happens) is yet another of those goofs which are beyond even my tolerance. Besides, Marathon forgot the most important lesson they should've taken from Japanese anime, and that is... not to sexualise teenagers. I mean, the other most important lesson: to have actual character development.

Between the villains, heroes, and side characters, I'm only steps away from giving this show the "Eight Deadly Words": "I don't care what happens to these people". So why do I keep watching it? Because Totally Spies! is a prime example of a guilty pleasure. If nothing else, the spy girls themselves are pretty, and say what you want about them being materialistic fashionistas, at least the animators gave them more than a handful of outfits! Plus, there are occasional shake-ups to the formula, and it is those moments which make for the series' more memorable episodes. But most of the time, it sticks to its formula, to its detriment. There's nothing that shows the girls are evolving in their spycraft over the course of the show. Such may be the curse of the monster-of-the-week format, but that's no excuse for not trying. You could also brush off its shortcomings as the curse of childrens' entertainment, but that's not a good excuse either. I'd consider Kaleido Star to be kid-friendly, and it has some of the best characterisation I've ever seen in a TV show. And whilst on the business of comparing Totally Spies! to other cartoons, let me close by reminding you that when this show came out, it competed with the Disney Channel's girl-power spy-fi show, Kim Possible, which was considerably more genre-savvy, gender-inclusive, and didn't use [verb]ing acronyms for everything. I think that says all you need to know about Totally Spies!: apparently, some of the most telling critiques come not from the work itself, but from contrasting it with other works.

Positives
+ The few episodes which shake up the formula shine even brighter for it.

Negatives
- Little in the way of character development.
- Annoying main and side characters.
- The stories adhere strictly to a formula.
- The animation is barely up to par when it isn't goofing up.

Acting: 2 rainbow catsuits out of 5
Writing: 1 rainbow catsuits out of 5
Animation: 2 rainbow catsuits out of 5
Visual Design: 3 rainbow catsuits out of 5
The Call: 50% (D)

Film Review: End of Evangelion

End of Evangelion

• Publisher: Toei (JPN), Manga Entertainment (NA) 
• Production Companies: Kadokawa Shoten, TV Tokyo, Sega Corporation, Production I.G, Movic, Starchild, Gainax 
• Genre: Science-fiction 
• Release: 19 July 1997 (JPN) 
• Directors: Katsuya Tsurumaki (Episode 25'), Hideaki Anno (Episode 26') 
• Producer: Matsuhisa Ishikawa 
• Writer: Hideaki Anno 

Previously on the SDP, I reviewed Neon Genesis Evangelion. And at the risk of spoiling that review, I thought it was quite good -- up until the final two episodes, that is, which left all its twisted plot threads hanging in favour of a whole mess of amateur philosophising. Apparently things got so bad in that regard, that the powers concerned had to make not one, but two feature films to follow it up with. The first, Death and Rebirth, is essentially a recap of the series. But the second one, 1997's End of Evangelion... hoo boy, let's just say it's the one everybody talks about.

We open on Shinji Ikari (EN: Spike Spencer, JP: Megumi Obata) standing at the hospital bedside of Asuka Langley Soryu (EN: Tiffany Grant, JP: Yuko Miyamura). She's been comatose since the end of the original series, having... had a little run-in with the plot. He shakes her in a vain effort to wake her, when he accidentally slips off her gown and... Well, this franchise's reputation being what it is, you probably know what happens next. And if you don't know, well, I shan't say it because I take my self-inforced PG rating very seriously, but suffice it to say, Shinji is dead right when he says, "I'm so [verb]ed up."

"Oh my gosh... Asuka has... boobs!  WHY DID NO ONE WARN ME!?"

Meanwhile, the secret organisation SEELE, from whom spawned the less-secret organisation NERV, is having a little discussion. You see, they've got this grand master plan to trigger something called the Human Instrumentality project. You'd be forgiven for not knowing what it is at this point, even if you've watched the original series, which was less than explanatory on that front. But anyway, SEELE has decided that this whole NERV thing isn't working out, so they decided to cut their losses -- the hard way. First they try to hack NERV's computer network in an abridged, yet otherwise shot-for-shot, remake of one of the episodes. And when that doesn't work, they send an army in to invade the place.

All the while, we get a running commentary from the officers of NERV's command centre. You may have noticed that their voice-actors have changed in the English dub, and not for the better. This does not extend to the entire cast, thankfully; the main characters (Shinji, Misato, Rei, Asuka, etc.) share the same actors for both the original series and EoE, and their performances are just as strong as before, if not better. But everyone else is just phoning it in. There may be a reason for this: ADV Films, who licenced and dubbed the original series for North America, balked at the prospect of taking on the films in addition, so instead Manga Entertainment picked them up. That they were able to bring back as many of ADV's actors as they did is a blessing, don't get me wrong, but on all other accounts, the dub kinda sucks.

During the ordeal, Misato Katsuragi (EN: Allison Keith, JP: Kotono Mitsuishi) has her moment of glory when she rescues Shinji from some SEELE troops who have him at gunpoint. I didn't have the time to bring it up in my review of the original series, but Misato-chan is one of my favourite characters from the Evangelion franchise. During the series, she pulls double-duty as a ranking officer at NERV, and as Shinji and Asuka's legal guardian. In the early episodes, before the show's infamous depression has a chance to set in, she drives some comedic scenes with her hard-drinking, lazy, and lusty personality -- in a cute way, of course. But that's just at the home. On the clock, she's the one who concocts all the plans to take down all the Angels who show up to tear humanity a new one. And considering how close the Angels get to doing so, Misato deserves heaps of credit.

Back to EoE, Asuka has somehow awaken and is dispatched with her Eva unit to distract the enemy forces. Which she does. And how is she rewarded? By SEELE unleashing their newest weapon: a series of mass-produced Eva units. She does great against them too, in an intense fight scene which unfortunately they have to keep cutting back and forth from. But then, a wild Lance of Longinus appears and impales Asuka's Eva, giving the others the chance to tear it up like vultures on some carrion. And thus, Asuka Langley Soryu is killed off. And there was much rejoicing... not. Shinji, meanwhile, is in his own Eva unit as he watches the carnage unfold. To put it lightly, he is not amused.

The end.

Positives:
+ Performances of the returning cast members are as strong as ever.
+ Better, and more consistent, animation quality.
+ Say what you want about the ending, at least it's artistically daring.

Negatives:
- The replacement actors are pretty dang bad.
- The incomprehensible ending.

Acting (English): 3 MP Evas out of 5
Acting (Japanese): 5 MP Evas out of 5
Writing: 3 MP Evas out of 5
Animation: 4 MP Evas out of 5
Visual Design: 5 MP Evas out of 5
The Call: 75% (B-)

Not really. See, this film is divided into two acts, essentially replacing the final two episodes of the series. They have their own episode numbers and titles ("25': Love is Destructive" and "26': One More Final: I Need You"), and the credits start at the end of the first act, as if ending the movie half-way (and on quite a tragic note, at that). Of the two acts, only the second was directed by Hideaki Anno. And... well, it shows. To start off, Shinji's father Gendo (EN: Tristan MacAvery, JP: Fumihiko Tachiki) is holding a little ritual to initiate Third Impact -- you know, that thing they've been trying to avoid this whole series -- and with it, Instrumentality. Which he does by pushing his arm into the body of his naked clone daughter, Rei Ayanami (EN: Amanda Winn-Lee, JP: Megumi Hayashibara). But when that doesn't work, she instead fuses with Lilith, an Angel captured by NERV before the series started. In doing so, she grows to gigantic proportions (still nude), Shinji's Eva gets trapped and sorta-crucified by the MP Evas, and then... well... stuff happens.

You may have noticed that this movie, and Neon Genesis Evangelion on the whole,
uses lots of random religious imagery, like the cross and the Tree of Life above.
Whether or not this means anything is your choice, 'cause it's beyond me. OTL

If you're familiar with the original series, then chances are you know about its many scenes wherein Shinji and company contemplate the meaning of their existence, and existence in general to various degrees, all set to barely-animated images. Well, guess what -- just when you thought you were out of the woods, they did it again. Anno-sama has totally relapsed in that regard. I'm not saying these scenes don't have merit. Like many shots from the original series, they are creatively arranged, and unlike many shots from the original series, they have some actual resources put into them. But I don't know, the moment Shinji starts whining about how the world would be been better off without him, I just tune out. And that does a true disservice to the story they were trying to tell, or at least the story we expected from them.

In the interest of constructive criticism, here's a tip I picked up from an episode of Zero Punctuation, of all places: "Is this the most exciting part of the character's life? If not, why aren't we witnessing it?" I guess the viewer of EoE is left disappointed because what's going on outside of Shinji's head is far more interesting than inside. The time spent with his internal monologue could have been better spent setting up what happens outside of Shinji's head. Like, there's this one scene where a bunch of Rei clones show up and hug everyone left alive in NERV's base until they explode into an orange liquid (which by the way, is what Instrumentality entails). It would've been nice to see how the Rei clones got there instead of being dropped into that scene in medias res. But hey, that never stopped Call of Duty from pulling that on us!

But there is a point to all this. ...Sort of. With the human race assimilated into pools of Tang, it's up to Shinji to decide whether he likes it this way, or if humanity should be put back the way it was. He starts out the second act inclined towards the former, but throughout these moments of contemplation, shifts his stance towards the latter. Shinji's will be done, Instrumentality is undone and humanity is restored back to its former state, more or less. Yeah, the oceans are red now, there's a giant half of a head laying around, and the only humans we see about are Shinji and Asuka, but you know, close enough. And that's it. Not even a credits sequence to go out on, because we already got that out of the way. You are now free to turn off your TV.

You maniacs!  You blew it up!

I do hope I was instrumental (no pun intended) in helping you understand this movie. But having written all these past words, I think it was otherwise pointless reviewing End of Evangelion. Whatever praises and criticisms I wheeled out for it are mostly the same as what I did for the original series. I liked it most when it was an over-the-top giant-robot show, and I liked it least when it retreated into bouts of navelgazing at the expense of the outside plot. And it's not like those scenes don't have a right to be there, after all, I applaud the daring more often than not. But if you're going to pull that junk on us, could you at least have a point to it all? At the end of it all, my verdict is this: Better to have watched this film and gone, "what the [verb]", than to have not watched it all.

Film Review: The Wind Rises

Previously on the SDP, I discussed the Studio Ghibli film The Wind Rises on two occasions. First, I discussed its ramifications in the context of the Japanese political right, and second, I lamented its lack of exposure and acclaim from my own country. But between the time I first saw it in theatres and when I got to re-watch it on home video, The Wind Rises became, to me, less of an actual product and more of an icon, an ideal, something I chose to stand for. But now that it finally came out on home video and I've had a chance to re-watch it, how does it stand against my mind's interpretation of it?

The Wind Rises

• Publisher: Toho (JP), Touchstone Pictures (US) 
• Studio: Studio Ghibli 
• Genre: Drama 
• Release: 20 July 2013 (JP), 21 February 2014 (US) 
• Director: Hayao Miyazaki 
• Producer: Toshio Suzuki 
• Writer: Hayao Miyazaki

The Wind Rises bills itself as a fictionalised biography of a one Jiro Horikoshi (EN: Joseph Gordon-Levitt, JP: Hideaki Anno), a Japanese airplane designer active in the 1920s and '30s. Sounds like a boring idea for an animated movie, doesn't it? Well if you thought that, A) you suck, and B) Studio Ghibli has ways to punch it up every once in a while. At points throughout the movie, the plot is intercut with Jiro's dreams, where he interacts with a mister Giovanni Caproni (EN: Stanley Tucci, JP: Nomura Mansai), a real-life Italian plane designer who inspires him to embark down a similar path in life. And indeed Jiro does go down that path, studying aviation in high school and eventually landing a job with the Mitsubishi company, all the while accompanied by his friend Kiro Honjo (EN: John Krasinski, JP: Hidetoshi Nishijima).

The character of Honjo stuck out to me, in what few scenes he took part in, because of his commentary on the state of Japan at the time. This movie takes place, at the latest, half a century after the Meiji Revolution brought Japan back onto the world stage, but even then, the nation's industry and modernisation was a work in progress. The Japanese of the time might have been able to make airplanes, but they were still using wood-and-canvas frames whereas their peers in Germany, the United States, and what-have-you had advanced to full-metal models. Perhaps this state of affairs is best encapsulated in an observation Honjo makes, that they still use oxen to transport prototype planes to the takeoff/landing site. It's as if the whole of Japan is a character in and of itself, having its own character arc and all that.

So as you witness this transition take place over the course of the movie, you'd be forgiven for thinking The Wind Rises is taking a nationalistic standpoint on history. You may also feel troubled if you know your basic 20th century history, because this development also led to the Japanese Empire thinking it could get away with bringing its neighbours under its fold -- the hard way. But The Wind Rises is surprisingly apolitical about the whole thing. If anything, it's against war in general, which for the record is also the point of Miyazaki-sama himself. There are a few lines in the script when Jiro states disapproval of how his creations were used for such destruction, but at the end of the day he is proud of his contributions to the field of aviation. As he and Signior Caproni discussed in one of their dreams, he'd still rather live in a world with the dreams of aviation realised. There's even a moment when Jiro discusses how to cut the weight from one of his models, and he half-jokingly suggests they take out the guns altogether. But, I ask of Horikoshi-san, if you don't want your planes to be used for war, then what, pray tell, is their purpose? It's not like these planes can carry a suitable volume of passengers for peaceful air travel! What did you think would happen when you decided to design fighter planes!? Oh well, you know what they say -- the road to Heck is paved with frozen door-to-door salesmen -- I mean, good intentions.

The Jiro/Naoko romance scenes are sweet, but have little impact on the plot.

So going through the movie, Jiro's career goes through a few ups and downs, until one particular failure causes him to take a sabbatical at a mountain resort, wherein he meets up with Naoko Satomi (EN: Emily Blunt, JP: Miori Takimoto). The two spark up a romance in due time, which goes unextinguished even when he learns that she suffers from tuberculosis, thus casting a shadow of impermanance over their relationship. My problem with this romantic sub-plot is that it doesn't exactly have any say on the main plot of Jiro's career, which especially jarring considering that it doesn't start until about an hour in to the film's runtime. And, in fact, it never even happened to the real Jiro Horikoshi. This little diversion comes from a novel also titled "The Wind Rises", written by Tatsuo Hori in 1937. (Hori-san is, at least, given a dedication slide at the end of the film, along with Horikoshi-san.) Remember when I said this movie was a "fictionalised biography"? Yeah, that's why.

It is a perfectly fine romance, don't get me wrong. I like a good tug at the ol' heartstrings every once in a while, and indeed the Jiro/Naoko sub-plot does this every once in a while, for example when he hears about her lung haemmorhage, or when his boss conducts an impromptu wedding for the young couple. All in all, it still leaves me with a warm and fuzzy feeling, and as my praise for the similarly emotional Kaleido Star indicates, this is a positive quality in my book. But you could cut out Naoko's scenes and not only would The Wind Rises not suffer for it, but it would bring the film's 127-minute running time down to a more manageable length.

Whilst on the subject of this film's flaws, I thought the English voice cast was a tad hit-or-miss. Actually, I can think of only one miss, but it's a big one. Maybe Joseph Gordon-Levitt wasn't the best choice for this role. Why couldn't this Honjo guy have been the main character? Or at the very least, why couldn't his actor have portrayed Jiro instead of Mr. JGL? The same goes for the Japanese track, where the lead character is played by Hideaki Anno, of all people. (If you don't know, this guy created numerous anime series back in the day, and was even an employee at Studio Ghibli once.) There are more engaging performances sprinkled among the supporting cast, such as the aforementioned Honjo-san, Jiro's boss Mr. Kurokawa (EN: Martin Short, JP: Masahiko Nishimura), and his sister Kayo (EN: Mae Whitman, JP: Mirai Shida).

Dream sequences and other visualisations demonstrate the animation prowess of Studio Ghibli.

The Wind Rises is a Studio Ghibli production, so I shouldn't have to tell you how good this movie looks. What few scenes of fast action exist in this movie are animated realistically, yet dynamically at the same time. There are some moments where I wondered if the animators used rotoscoping techniques, and I mean that in a good way. But the film isn't entirely grounded in reality; some scenes take place in the dreams of Jiro and Caproni, as I previously mentioned, and other scenes apply a layer of similar dreamlike visualizations onto otherwise ordinary moments, illustrating Jiro's thought process and what-not. For example, in one scene where Jiro is drafting a design for a certain plane component, we see the finished plane flying in a clear sky, and the wind rustling the pages on his desk. And yet no one seems to notice them... But anyway. these visualisations serve two purposes: they make for visually creative shots, and they explain technical concepts for the laymen of the audience. The score is also magnificent, although I'd expect nothing less from composer Joe Hisaishi, who has worked with Ghibli for a long time. I don't know about you, but I'm a sucker for dramatic scenes where the music is a slow buildup and the sound-effect track is muted entirely. (See also: the opera shootout in Quantum of Solace.)

So if I'm able to find so many flaws upon re-watching this movie, why am I still willing to stand up for it? Well, to put it in one word, it's real. It's not trying to be anything it's not, which is especially notable for an animated feature. You know how Frozen, for example, had musical numbers, comic relief characters, and a romantic sub-plot entirely separate from the rest of the movie? Yeah, The Wind Rises ain't having any of that. Except for that last one... bad example, that. My point is, this story could have fit very well as a live-action film, but Miyazaki chose to have it animated because A) animation is what he's good at, and B) this movie is the story he wanted to tell. And to those who say, "Why did it have to be animated?", I say to them, "Why not?"

Positives:
+ Plenty of emotional moments which left me with a warm and fuzzy feeling.
+ An interesting and well-acted supporting cast.

Negatives:
- The Jiro/Naoko romantic sub-plot could have been left out.
- The lead actor's performance is a tad wooden, both in Japanese and English.

Acting (English): 4 airplanes out of 5
Acting (Japanese): 4 airplanes out of 5
Writing: 4 airplanes out of 5
Animation: 5 airplanes out of 5
Visual Design: 5 airplanes out of 5
The Call: 90% (A-)

P.S.: After I started work on writing this review, it has come to my attention that Hayao Miyazaki, among two others, had won an Academy Honorary Award in November of 2014.[1]  For those who don't know, these awards are given at judges' discretion separately from the regular Oscars, but involve the same statuettes given to winners at the regular ceremony. After having been so unfairly snubbed by the Oscars earlier in the year, I suppose hearing about this development has put my soul at ease a bit. I mean, you could interpret that as him winning the award for all of his films! All the same, for the sake of my mental health, I'm probably going to ignore the Oscars from here on out, or at least the Best Animated Feature category. Wouldn't wan't to have my hopes dashed like that again. I suppose this younger, more worldy generation will make the kinds of changes once we get into positions of power, but until then, I'll leave you with these words:

This is IchigoRyu.

You are the resistance.

---

[1] "Harry Belafonte, Hayao Miyazaki, Maureen O’Hara to get honorary Oscars". Entertainment Weekly. 28 August 2014, retrieved 15 January 2015. http://insidemovies.ew.com/2014/08/28/harry-belafonte-hayao-miyazaki-maureen-ohara-to-get-honorary-oscars/

Anime Review: Neon Genesis Evangelion

Neon Genesis Evangelion

• Studio: Gainax 
• Licensor: ADV (1997-2008), Section23 Films (2009-) (USA) 
• Network: TV Tokyo (JP) 
• Air Dates: 4 October 1995 - 27 March 1996 (JP) 
• Episodes: 26 
• Director: Hideaki Anno 

Previously on the SDP, I reviewed Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water, an anime series created in 1990 by director Hideaki Anno. Five years and one (surprisingly important) bout of depression later, he produced his most famous work yet: the giant-robot saga Neon Genesis Evangelion. Evangelion is a singularity among anime. How can the same show attract so much praise and simultaneously so much scorn? How can it explore so many deep topics about the human psyche, and at the same time get merchandised up the wazoo? (If you're seriously asking that last question, then let me remind you, this is a Japanese property. They pull this kind of stunt all the time.) As for everything else, I would more than likely end up in over my head if I attempted to answer all that myself, so I suppose I should start, and hopefully finish, my knowledge quest by reviewing Neon Genesis Evangelion in the context of my own impressions of it.

The story is as follows: In the year 2000, a cataclysmic explosion in Antarctica wiped out an entire half of the world's population, an event known as Second Impact. Fifteen years later, the creatures responsible for Second Impact -- varied, mysterious beings known as Angels -- are coming to Earth once more, because... reasons. But in the intervening time, mankind, specifically the organization NERV, has developed a weapon to combat the Angels. Such weapons are giant humanoid robots known as Evangelions, or Evas for short. As the Angels advance one by one on NERV's base in Tokyo-3, it's up to the Evas and their juvenile pilots to protect the base and the secrets held therein. Failure to do so could trigger a disaster even worse than Second Impact. So, no pressure, really.

The main protagonist is a 14-year-old lad, Shinji Ikari (EN: Spike Spencer, JP: Megumi Obata). (Yeah, apparently Eva pilots need to have been born after Second Impact, because... reasons.) As the son of none other than NERV's commander Gendo Ikari (EN: Tristan McAvery, JP:Fumihiko Tachiki), Shinji is often reluctant to shoulder his responsibilities as an Eva pilot, so much so that he even attempts to run away from home. More than once. That alone is all well and good, as connoisseurs of giant-robot anime may have at one point wondered how all those teenage robot pilots would have reacted to their situation in real life. But the problem is, that's Shinji's only character trait -- well, that, and coming through in a pinch. If Shinji's too scared to pilot the Eva, then what would he rather be doing with his life? Questions like these are never answered, at least not in the canon of the original series.

Rather, Shinji's character is defined with how he reacts to the situations thrust upon him by other characters. For example, there is Rei Ayanami (EN: Amanda Winn Lee*, JP: Megumi Hayashibara). A pale, blue-haired, and very shy girl, she was Tokyo-3's designated defender just before the show starts. But when she gets introduced to us viewers, she is beaten and bandaged, wheeled out on a gurney in front of Shinji, in order to convince him to pilot the Eva in her stead. And it indeed gives him a reason to fight; whether that reason is chivalry, guilt, or a straight-up boner, I approve this moment for the sole purpose of giving Shinji at least a bit of character. Once Rei recuperates, the two become fast friends, inasmuch as Shinji is able to make friends. And while her status as an ace pilot is, at first, naught but an informed attribute, once the show picks up momentum, she more than holds her own in some rather awesome Angel fights.

The Eva/Angel fights are impressively written and animated,
especially given their intricate character designs.

Call me crazy, but my favourite parts of Neon Genesis Evangelion are what, in any other show, would be its "filler arc" -- the "monster of the day" episodes, wherein a new Angel rears its ugly head (assuming it even has a head), and our heroes at NERV must concoct and carry out some new plan of stopping it. What I love about these episodes is that they all bring something new to the table. One of these Angels splits into two halves that must be vanquished simultaneously. One of them is a giant Blue Water crystal that can only be killed by a long-range sniper shot.  One of them is a larva that must be extracted from out of a volcano. One of them is a computer virus that must be hacked out of commission. One of them takes place at sea -- and the Evas can't swim, so they must jump around on aircraft carriers. And through it all, you might even learn something about one of the characters.

So the show has its fun for a while, but then along comes Episode 18, which I dare say is a masterpiece in a dramatic sense. Without wishing to spoil, it opens up the discussion on topics such as the use of child soldiers. And I'm like, that would have been a great thing to base a series on. But as the series gets progressively darker in these penultimate episodes, its attention span gets a little flighty. As the series wraps up, the Angels arrive in more and more insidious forms, quite a number of plot twists rear their ugly heads, and the psyches of Shinji, Rei, and Asuka get stretched to the breaking point and back again. But because they waited until this far into the series, none of these plot points get the chance to truly stick. So it turns out that Rei was one of many clones created by Gendo from his late wife, you say? That's great and all, but how does that affect the overall story? Not at all, as far as the series proper is concerned.

But it all has to lead up to something, right? I mean, sooner or later, you're gonna wonder where the Angels came from and what beef they have with us Earthlings, no? Well, ask into one hand, spit into the other, and see which fills up first. It turns out that the final two episodes eschew any sort of action, at least into the format we've grown used to, and instead focus on the internal monologue of its characters, as they contemplate their worth as humans and soldiers in the front lines against the Angels. For a total of fifty minutes. Now, if you want to give your characters their moments of introspection, that's all well and good; it shows a fair bit of smarts on your part. But this sort of scene should be a couple minutes long, not the entire runtime of your series finale! They even did this before, in Episode 20! There is a clever bit in one of these episodes where the show is temporarily re-imagined as a slice-of-life school drama, and the "congratulations" scene where Shinji finally makes a breakthrough on the causes of his mental maladies is just as rewarding for the viewer -- but only because we've wasted fifty minutes of our lives that we'll never get back.

Get used to "animation" like this throughout the final two episodes.

Before any commenters pounce upon me with a precision nerd strike, I wish to state two things for the record. One, I am at least aware of Evangelion's expanded universe, which covers not only the original TV series, but the follow-up movie End of Evangelion (which effectively serves as a replacement for the final two episodes), the reboot film series Rebuild of Evangelion, and multiple manga series, each with their own interpretations of the Eva universe. Perhaps some of the questions I asked a couple of paragraphs ago are answered in End of Evangelion, but I have not seen it as of this posting. And besides, if your show is dependent on an auxiliary movie to tie up any loose plot threads, then that's just the mark of lazy storytelling. I mean, when even the lead actor talks smack about your ending, then you have failed.

And two, I am well aware of this show's lack of budget. Despite the impressive action sequences when we get to watch an actual Eva/Angel fight, the animators managed to cut corners in every other way manageable. That's not to say the show doesn't "look" good. The designs of the sets and characters is unique, especially for the Angels and Evas, providing the show with its own cool aesthetic, and many scenes are "shot" with clever composition. But on the other hand, if you're willing to trash your liver, you could make a drinking game out of spotting how many times characters speak with their mouths conspicuously covered, or the "camera" is zoomed out so far away as to make animating lip-flaps not worth the effort. Heck, some scenes even linger on one shot with no motion taking place whatsoever, such as a rather infamous moment from one of the final episodes, which is two minutes of nothing but Shinji's Eva holding some guy in its mighty, oversized hand. And in the interest of saving you two boob-less minutes, here are some spoilers: said guy is Kaworu Nagisa, an Angel in a human's body, and the only one who's ever showed Shinji any form of unconditional appreciation throughout the series, and he gets crushed at the end of it, merely by "virtue" of being an Angel.

Speaking of budget cuts, one area of anime production which typically operates under such lack of resources would be foreign-language dubbing, and for some reason lack of money usually translates into lack of caring. But chronologically speaking, the English dub of Neon Genesis Evangelion (produced by ADV Films in 1997-98) may be the first truly great example of its kind. How can I make this broad claim? Let's take the case of Asuka Langley Soryu (EN: Tiffany Grant, JP: Yuko Miyamura), a hot-headed, half-German Eva pilot who first shows up a couple of episodes in. When her Japanese actress speaks German, it sounds a bit forced, like a Japanese person speaking German. But when her English actress does so, she sounds like an actual German speaking normally. (And I should know; I've taken five years of that language in high school.) That should be all I need to say in regards to how seriously ADV took their jobs, but apart from that, I can honestly say that for the most part, the performances in both the English and Japanese tracks suitably develop the personalities of their respective characters. There are a couple of side characters whose voices get under my nerves more so in English than Japanese, but they're few and far between enough that I can live with that.

If I were to compare Neon Genesis Evangelion to any other franchise, it would be the Metal Gear games -- specifically, Metal Gear Solid 2. See, when they do what they set out to do at the start, they're really good at it. It's when they let their auxiliary message take precedence over the original plot that they start to lose favour in my eyes. (Face it, you took some level of offence when you realised Raiden was nought but a surrogate for the player.) I'm not saying writers shouldn't try to incorporate more in-depth themes into their works, far from it. I'd just prefer there to be a balance between them and the plots set up within the story's own universe. For an example of this done correctly, I point you to Anno-sama's other claim to fame, Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water. From time to time, the heroine's words and actions reflect upon the value of life, and it's hard for the viewer's mind to stay out of the mental discussion. But that series never forgets that there's an antagonist who needs to be put down, and a protagonist who needs to do so. A little more focus have made Neon Genesis Evangelion the end-all-be-all of giant-robot anime. As it is, it's a series of worthwhile thoughts and moments that doesn't amount to much in the end. And the way it treats its loyal fans by the end of it all, building up so much suspense and shattering it with an unsatisfying ending, is certainly infuriating. But if I may counter its amateur philosophising with a life-view of my own, I still think Neon Genesis Evangelion was worth putting onto this Earth. As long as it leaves us even with nothing but those thoughts and moments, it's certainly a worthwhile product, no?

*Cast listings refer to the original series. Certain characters have been re-cast for different adaptations, such as the Rebuild movies.

Positives:
+ The Eva/Angel fight scenes are beautifully animated.
+ Brilliant artistic design and scene direction.
+ The voice acting, both in Japanese and English, is some of the best to have been recorded before the new millennium.
+ It makes an effort to explore the mindsets of its characters.

Negatives:
- The non-action scenes suffer a severe shortfall in terms of the animation budget.
- The final two episodes take all the plot the show has built up to that point, and throw it out the window.

Acting (English): 5 Angels out of 5
Acting (Japanese): 4 Angels out of 5
Writing: 3 Angels out of 5
Animation: 3 Angels out of 5
Visual Design: 5 Angels out of 5
The Call: 90% (A-)

Web Work Review: Kung Fu Cooking Girls

So I was trolling around deviantART one day and I read about this animated short called "BatMan in Shanghai", made for the DC Nation Shorts. It's title pretty much describes what it is: an alternate-universe Batman tale set in 1930s Shanghai, in which versions of Catwoman, Bane, and Batman fight over some scroll. And it was good. But then I heard the same team who made it, who call themselves Wolf Smoke Studios, did this other animated short called "Kung Fu Cooking Girls", which is also a more or less a case of Exactly What It Says On The Tin. And it was good. But it got me thinking a lot more than the other one, so please indulge me this opportunity to vomit the contents of my over-active mind.

Having a running time of about six minutes, not including credits, the plot of this video is simple enough. A traveller walks into a village, discovers himself to be hungry, and is called upon by two rival food vendors. One is a Chinese girl selling dim sum (shrimp-filled dumplings), and one is an Occidental (presumably American) girl selling sub sandwiches. They compete to get his attention, only to forget about the man and fight each other directly. Eventually they forget all about the man, who crawls over to yet another restaurant, and finally gets something to eat as the catfight rages on until the credits roll. This sort of love-triangle story archetype is a dime a dozen, something you might find in rom-com anime like Ranma 1/2 or Tenchi Muyo!. Essentially, this tale teaches the moral that if you keep trying to one-up other people, you'll lose sight if what's really important, in this case, doing business with a customer. But by presenting a conflict of East versus West, it permits me to inject my own crazy interpretations, so let's have at it.

The Chinese girl, heretofore referred as Girl Number One in a vague Lonely Island reference, certainly lives up to the expectations set up by the title of this film. She uses kung fu in her cooking: first she throws the shrimp fillings in the air and, with lightning-fast reflexes, catches them in their buns, and to top it off, she cooks them by levitating the basket in a sphere of chi. Simply awesome. I do love a girl with huge... talents. (And I meant that both literally and as a Sailor Moon in-joke.) The Western girl (Girl Number Two) is certainly overshadowed in this department (although her speed at assembling that sandwich is nothing to sneeze at), but she makes up for it in sex appeal, all but flirting with her potential customer (why not call him Steve, just to wrap up the "Just 2 Guyz" reference) in a getup lifted from Gurren Lagann's Yoko. Not that Girl Number One is lacking in this aspect either; I'm guessing she doesn't have a bra under that apron-top-thingie. Regardless, Girl Number One calls Girl Number Two out on this, and on the lack of technical skill in preparing her food. Meanwhile, what sort of smack can Girl Number Two talk about Girl Number One's food? That it's not worth feeding to the pigs. Well, that's just your problem, lady. The way I see it, responding to objective criticism with a subjective insult is just petty. And at the end of it all, the two girls expend all that energy and waste all that food (as complained by "Steve" himself), only for "Steve" to find another place to eat altogether. It's tempting as a viewer to emotionally latch on to either of the two girls, but in the end "Steve" is the protagonist, so it's nice to see his conflict (read: hunger) resolved.

So based on what I just described, the inferrence to draw would be that the Chinese take greater care in not just the preparation of food, but everything they do, whereas their Western counterparts just don't understand the tradition and diligence that goes into making great works, right? Well, it's not that simple, and in fact it falls apart if we were to apply it to real-world macroeconomics. As I have been led to believe, America and allies have been doing most of the industrial innovation in the past few years, as opposed to China being ripe with cheap production labour. Granted, that role has the potential to change -- the quite likely potential, at that -- so we can't apply that to the movie. Besides, it's not as if Girl Number Two is completely out of Girl Number One's league; when they fight each other directly, they're pretty much evenly matched, and their fight ends without conclusion.

But what if the behaviour of the girls could be a representation of Chinese and American mindsets about each other? As mentioned before, Girl Number One can get rather hot-tempered in her attempts to prove herself to "Steve" and Girl Number Two who, in turn, goes for sex appeal over technical skill in doing the same. This may, more plausibly, be seen as a commentary on the mentalities of China and America, both as nationalities and as people. Communist nationalism aside, it is imaginable that the Chinese, and for that matter many other peoples of the East, take offence at the heretofore unrestricted dominance the West has had over politics and culture over the past century or two. Meanwhile, the way in which Girl Number Two attempts to connect with "Steve" suggest that both the works America produces, along with the tastes of American consumers, are geared towards the lowest common denominator. Man, when I put it like that, I really come across as siding with Girl Number One, if not the Chinese as a whole. But who's to say Girl Number One really is better? It's never revealed, but is there possibly any talent she lacks but Girl Number Two possess? (Besides the obvious "talents".) See, this is why you should never draw these kinds of inferences without knowing the whole story.

Why am I telling you all this, especially if it may never even have been intended by its creators at all? Think about it: with China's economic power growing as it has been over the past few decades, the country stands to play a far bigger part in more than just the economic sector. What I mean is that we may soon encounter pieces of media that are not only produced, but conceived in China. Like this film, having been produced by a Shanghai-based studio. So as potential viewers of this media, we need to brace ourselves for what sorts of ideas will be presented therein. If you're worried about the next generation of the Red Scare, I wouldn't. Ever since the end of the Cold War, and the death of Mao Zedong before that, it feels like the Chinse government has become less concerned with spreading the Communist revolution than with just the usual amassment of riches. So we can expect more depictions of rivalries between China and the West, if not on an ideological level, then on economical or cultural terms.

But enough about the message that "Kung Fu Cooking Girls" may or may not be trying to promote; is it any good? Well, the plot is action-packed and concise, with no more main characters or minutes of running time than it needs to get its point across. Enough visual stylings are borrowed from Japanese anime for it to feel familiar, but are used just loosely enough to create a completely new aesthetic identity. The animation is a little sketchy, with roughly drawn outlines barely containing their colours, but for a short film produced by five people (not including music and voice acting), would you really expect a whole lot more? After all, they've got the frenetic pace of the fight scenes down pat, although considering the great Chinese tradition of martial-arts films, I can't say I'm surprised. But most importantly, I had fun and it made me think a little, which I for one value above all other qualities. The future of Chinese media is yet to be set in stone, but for now? Godspeed, Wolf Smoke Studios. Take the time to perfect your craft, and you may one day become animation's equivalent of Girl Number One.

The Call: 5 dim-sum out of 5 (A)

Manga Review: Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei

• Author: Koji Kumeta
• Publisher: Kodansha (JP), Del Rey / Kodansha Comics (US)
• Volumes: 30
• Release: 27 Apr 2005 - 13 June 2012 (JP), 24 Feb 2009 - Present (US)

It seems as if humour is different across all cultures, eh?  I mean, look at the anime scene in Japan -- there aren't many examples of comedy anime series I can think of off the top of my head.  As in good comedy series.  That rely on actual laughs instead of being bizarrely Japanese.  (Why do I keep limiting myself?)  Well, there's Ninja Nonsense, Excel Saga (and everything else NabeShin's touched), I suppose you could make the case for Hetalia as well...  Man, I feel like an anime dilettante...  Oh wait, here's one you've probably never heard of: the manga and anime series Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei.

The first chapter begins with, of all things, our main character Nozomu Itoshiki having hung himself in a grove of sakura trees.  Strange for a story to end before it gets started, no?  Well that's where you're wrong, because along comes the schoolgirl Kafuka Fuura, who saves him against his wishes.  It turns out that she is a student in his high-school class, where we learn an unfortunate truth: the kanji in Nozomu's name, when written closely together, appear to form the word "despair" ("糸色望" becomes "絶望").  Thusly, he has lived out his life in despair at everything around him.  Kafuka, on the other hand, is an unnaturally cheerful girl, always assuming that there's a happy explanation to all the unpleasantries going on around her.  For example: when she saw her teacher trying to hang himself?  She thought he was just making himself taller.

And then, there's the other children in her class, including but not limited to:

• Chiri Kitsu, the de-facto class chairman, she suffers from some form of obsessive-compulsive disorder, and always demands things to be done precise and properly.  She may kill you if you don't.
• Kiri Komori, a hikikomori (one who stays locked up in his/her room); after Nozomu & Kafuka's intervention, she holes up in a room at the school instead.
• Matoi Tsunetsuki, a stalker who goes so deep into her "super-love obsessions" that she copies the person's dress style - including Nozomu's Taisho-era couture.  (I'll explain that later.)
• Meru Otonashi, a shy girl who sends text messages instead of talking - specifically, abusive and sarcastic texts.
• Kaere Kimura, a blonde-haired exchange student from not-Japan who is prone to panty shots, threatens lawsuits frequently as a result, and, under certain stress, switches personalities with a demure Japanese girl Kaere.
• Taro Maria Sekiutsu, an illegal immigrant who purchased her name and class registration from  a (male!) bum who sold everything he had.
• Nami Hito, the class's only normal girl.  She is not pleased at her status.

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei is one of those manga in which, rather than keeping a consistent story arc, each of its chapters are stand-alone stories focusing on a particular topic.  The best chapters are the ones early on, in which each topic is centred around the introduction of a particular character.  Obviously they can't very well do that all the time, lest the cast reach Negima proportions.  But as early as the second volume, a predictable routine sets in.  A situation is set up, and Nozomu complains about it.  Someone from his class, usually Kafuka, looks at the situation a different way.  Some sort of bizarre conclusion is reached, having no bearing whatsoever on the following chapter.  Sprinkle with pop culture references to illustrate both arguments -- the more Japanese, the better.  Bake at 451 degrees Fahrenheit for twenty minutes.  Serves 10 chapters per volume plus extras.  And yes, in case you couldn't tell, I seem to have gotten lost in my own metaphor.

But it's worth dealing with this routine to explore the world, this fractured take on 21st-century Japan.  In contrast with his students' contemporary uniforms, Nozomu always wears an old hakama and kimono ensemble dating back to the Taisho (1910s and 20s) period.  Plus, if you're familiar with the Japanese imperial calendar, note that they use dates as if Emperor Hirohito were still alive (i.e. AD 2013 becomes Showa 88 instead of Heisei 25).  The art style is heavily stylised, even by the standards of manga, as Kumeta-san seems dead-set on avoiding shading in favour of pure blacks and whites wherever possible, primarily in his character designs, not to mention a reliance on static plaid patterns, especially on Nozomu's clothes.  But that's not to say this series' art is devoid of detail.  For example, the translators at Del Rey Manga were nice enough to keep many of the background signage in Japanese, although they did translate some of the funny ones (what kind of school advertises a "Boys' Love Club"?).  In fact, there are such a vast quantity of references that only a Japanese reader would get, regardless of language, that each book ends with a heaping helping of translators' notes -- and even those can't cover all the details.

But far be it for Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei to rely solely on referential anecdotes. Which is good, because as anyone who’s suffered through a Seltzer and Friedberg movie knows, references are lazy writing.  There are puns aplenty to be found, primarily in the characters' names.  As can be expected with most other instances of foreign comedy, these tend to require sufficient knowledge of Japanese language concepts, like the different readings of kanji.  Without such knowledge, you'll be scratching your head -- or flipping to the translator's notes -- for an explanation on certain gags, one noteworthy example being Chiri's sudden adoption of clairvoyant powers.  Fortunately, a good chunk of the humour transcends the language barrier by basing itself around the fourth wall -- or rather, the lack thereof.  Characters often refer to one another in terms of their respective specialties, for example Kaere being the designated panty-shot girl, and Nami being normal.  In addition to the aforementioned translator notes, the manga volumes also pack in bonus features such as previews and/or recaps which have nothing to do with the actual story.  There's even a chapter in one of the early volumes where Chiri and Nozomu get the chapter to start over -- all in the name of demonstraing the point du jour.  It's good stuff.

There is one issue that got me thinking, however, and that's Nozomu's repeated propensity towards attempting suicide.  This comes from a culture which has a well-known association with the subject.  I'm sure you're familiar with the rituals of seppuku and/or hara-kiri that were practiced every so often back in the day.  Yup, made in Japan.  Even today, in this post-war, commerce-driven age, Japan continuously ranks among the top 10 countries for suicides.  For example, the World Health Organization reports that ever since the mid-1990s, Japan experienced close to 30,000 suicides every year, having only last year dipped below that benchmark.  So that makes me wonder: is it right to trivialise a such serious problem like Kumeta-san does in Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei?  Because by playing suicide up for humour, he's not exactly portraying it in an undesirable manner.  Then again, could Kumeta-san's approach be not an endorsement of suicide, but a parody of such?  Given the context of the series, this may be what the author had in mind.  After all, if you read about a guy who sought to hang himself at the slightest provocation, real or imagined, surely you'd think that he was being unreasonable at least once or twice, no?  This is a complex issue, and at times like these I think back to the words of the great philosopher Basil Exposition: "I suggest you don't worry about this sort of thing and just enjoy yourself!"  That goes for you all as well.

And it’s totally worth putting your reservations in the backseat, because Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei presents heaping helpings of hilarity to revel in. Yes, a sense of repetition creeps into this series the further you delve into it. But when it’s good, it’s nothing short of sublime. By not only breaking the fourth wall, but reaching out across it and sharing with the reader what it has learned about our world, Kumeta-san has created a surrealist masterpiece.

Artwork: 5 suicide attempts out of 5
Plot: 4 suicide attempts out of 5
Dialogue: 5 suicide attempts out of 5
Characters: 5 suicide attempts out of 5
The Call: 90% (A-)

In case you haven't noticed, up until now I've been primarily referring to Sayonara, Zetsubou-Senseias a manga series.  Well, there was an anime produced as well, which ran for three half-seasons in Japan.  The show was a product of Studio Shaft, and given their other works (Negima!?, Puella Magi Madoka Magica), you can bet this is one bad mother[Shut your mouth!]  What, I'm just talking about Studio Shaft!  [Then we can dig it!]  The animated version of SZS keeps the existing bizarre flavour of the manga whilst adding its own clever touches, such as non-sequitirs on the classroom chalkboard, some guy's head used as a censor, and the uber-bizarre opening and ending themes.  And for perhaps the prime example of Studio Shaft’s non-sensery, there’s a certain episode from season two.  The chapter it’s based on is a relatively straightforward one -- straightforward by its own standards, at least -- about a guy who think’s he’s Commodore Perry and goes around opening everything in the school -- and I do mean everything.  But for the anime, the dialogue was replaced with nonsense syllables, and the subtitles made the plot even more insane, if you can believe it, by telling some completely unrelated story about Goku finding the [bleep]balls.  And since my “Not Making This Up Disclaimer” can only go so far, just take my word for it.   Or watch it for yourself.

There's just one problem: Media Blasters did licence the series for North America, with the intention to release DVDs in May 2010.  Unfortunately, in the almost three years since, they still have yet to show up on the market, and the company has said nary a word about its status.  Hey, at least Capcom had the decency to explicitly state that Mega Man Legends 3's production blew up in the hangar!  ...That doesn't excuse them or anything.  Anyway, this is the reason why I focused my review on the manga instead.  If an American video release was in the works, I'd need to know whether or not an English dub would be part of the deal, so I can include it in my judgment.  Still, whether you're willing to wait for an official release or jump the gun and watch some fansubs, I unofficially deem this anime a...

Anime Review: Kaleido Star

Kaleido Star

• Studio: Gonzo
• Publisher: Funimation (USA)
• Network: TV Tokyo (Japan)
• Air dates: 3 April 2003 - 27 March 2004 (Japan)
• Episodes: 51
• Directors: Jun'ichi Sato, Yoshimasa Hiraike

This article was updated on 7 November 2014.

Riddle me this: Have you ever heard of the anime series Princess Tutu? It's supposed to be this awesome magical girl-type show which takes the roles of classic fairy tales and turns them on their head, brilliantly combining the elements of dance, fairy tales, and classical music into a genre-bending experience. There's just one problem... when I said dance, I meant ballet. Now I'm not the world's most masculine guy, but I have to draw the line somewhere, and considering that I already identify as a Lil’ Monster, Brony, Moonie, and... whatever a Totally Spies! fan calls himself, that's saying something. Now, I strongly believe that guys should be able to enjoy girlish things and girls should be able to enjoy… guy-ish things without being labeled a traitor to their sexuality, but… I think I’m gonna have to work my up way to Princess Tutu. Not that I’d try to review it anyway; apart from my aforementioned misgivings, there’s also a fantastic review on the subject done by JesuOtaku way back when, and with the knowledge and insight she exhibited therein, there’s no way I could one-up her. On the upside, its director, Junichi Sato (also the director of Sailor Moon), also created another series – one that should only make you rip a tiny tear into your man cards instead of shredding them up completely. Oh wait, I just said I don't believe in "man cards". Anyway, enter Kaleido Star.

Our series stars Sora Naegino (No, not that Sora. Not that one either.) (EN: Cynthia Martinez, JP: Ryo Hirohashi), a teenage Japanese girl who emigrates to America to join the Kaleido Stage. What is Kaleido Stage? It’s part circus, a little bit musical theatre, a little bit magic show, and so much more. In other words, it’s Cirque du Soleil on drugs. And the drug is anime. (Seriously, is Cirque do Soleil really the only example Americans can recognise!? I guess that just goes to show the stranglehold the Ringling Bros. racket has on our country’s market.) In the first episode, Sora spends her first day in America getting lost, getting her legs checked out by some pervert, and getting her luggage stolen. She gives chase on some roller-skates – think the skateboard scene from Back to the Future on steroids – again, the steroids are anime – and as a result, she catches the thief, but ends up missing the Kaleido Stage auditionfor her efforts. This comes to the displeasure of its current star, Layla Hamilton (EN: Sandra Krasa, JP: Sayaka Ohara), who won't let her try out, for the sole purpose of her being a little bit late. But it turns out the assumed pervert from before is really the founder of the circus, Kalos Eido (EN: Rick Burford, JP: Keiji Fujiwara), who puts her in their show at the last minute. Despite a rough start, and another dismissal from Layla, Kalos intervenes and lets her stay on as part of the Kaleido Stage cast. But Layla intends to put Sora through the ringer before letting her share her spotlight. Sora must push her body to the limit, and rely on the friendship of whomever she can manage, in order to survive.

Sora has talent, but that alone can only go so far in the world of Kaleido Stage.

The series is divided into arcs of five episodes or so, each focusing on Sora's attempts to master a certain act. Whether it's on the trampoline, tightrope, or trapeze, no matter what the circumstances, Sora tries her darndest to prove herself to people such as Layla and the manipulative Yuri Killian (EN: Illich Guardiola, JP: Susumu Chiba). Despite the occasional bout of sexual tension with characters such as Yuri, Sora never shows any romantic interest to speak of with any of the boys. Her raison d'etre is performing to entertain and/or inspire the audience. She is, above all other qualities, selfless, and in the hands of a lesser writer this would run the risk of portraying her as a pretty little perfect Mary-Sue. But her idealistic desires are used effectively, clashing with the harsh realities forced upon her by her peers. Sora is not immune to being comsumed by the metaphorical darkness, but she always has a way of bringing the light of hope back into play.

Yeah, the drama can get heavy throughout this show, but comic relief comes in the form of Fool (EN: Jay Hickman, JP: Takehito Koyasu), the self-professed "Spirit of the Stage" and our exposition fairy. Fool can only be seen by people who are true stars of Kaleido Stage, or on their way to becoming such. This leads to some… intriguingly realistic reactions when Sora first lays eyes on him and, instead of accepting him right off the bat, thinks she’s lost her mind. But once his presence settles in, he becomes a living barometer of Sora's psychological state. If she loses her ability to see him, then you know trouble’s going down. He also presents the audience, and occasionally characters, with fairly obvious foreshadowing in the form of fortune telling, either of the tarot card or astrology variety. And to round out his character, he has a running gag of making perverted suggestions to Sora, for which he either gets locked in a cupboard or punched into the sky, Team Rocket-style, for his endeavours.

I would say this kind of humour is inappropriate given the context that surrounds these scenes, but A) given the state of such context, I could use a break in the tension every once in a while, and B) all this is handled rather tastefully. In fact, whilst the show isn’t shy on the actual fanservice, it’s also done to a tasteful degree – and I can’t believe I’m saying this – but it even makes sense in the context of the show itself. Think about it – the work of a circus acrobat demands a high range of motion that won’t be hampered by an inconvenient costume, and plus, for the shows themselves, you’d also want costumes that pique the audience’s interests. What better way to accomplish both than, say, a leotard, or if you’re really lucky, something that bares the midriff? Throw in some choice stretches with camera angles that put the focus on certain choice body parts, and badabingo – fanservice you don’t have to feel guilty about! ...Did I mention the guy who created this also worked on Sailor Moon? And no, even the males aren’t immune to the fanservice stick.

The only major character who elicits a "meh" reaction from yours truly would be a mister Ken Robbins (EN: John Swasey, JP: Hiro Shimono). Ken apparently has a weak heart, precluding him from being an acrobat, so instead he got a job running the shows behind the scenes, controlling the set changes, special effects, and what have you. From the very first episode, he becomes one of Sora’s best friends, and I guess the closest thing she ever has to a love interest. But apart from the occasional bout of moral support, he does practically nothing else in service of the plot. Heck, even Sora’s other friends each get an episode devoted to exorcising the metaphorical demons of their backstories, but Ken? Not so much!

The second season mixes it up with two rival performers: Leon Oswald (EN: Mike McRae, JP: Takahiro Sakurai), a loftier-than-thou trapeze veteran whose backstory involves a dead sister, and May Wong (EN: Hilary Haag, JP: Mai Nakahara), an envious ice-skater who’s gunning for Sora’s spotlight. Sora’s conflicts, especially with these characters, highlight the struggle of performance versus technical skill. While Sora does have the goods, she is unable to nail everything that May, Leon, and others are able to pull off. Yet their style is cold and aloof, as if they don't even recognise the audience's existence, whereas Sora takes pleasure in making at least one of her fans smile. It really makes you think of which side of the performer-versus-technician debate is really better. If the decision were up to me, I’d say there are benefits to both approaches. A character who can pull off moves perfectly and effortlessly is awesome in his or her own right, even if -- or perhaps because -- their personality is so cold and aloof. As for the other side of the argument, it reminds me of that starfish fable. As long as the character can make a difference to even just one person in the audience, then the performance, warts and all, will have been worthwhile. So what side does Kaleido Star take in this argument? Well, let’s just say the main character is a "performer" more than a "technician".

Also, even though the conflicts in Kaleido Star are non-violent in nature, I don't think I've seen any antagonists who filled me with as much rage as Yuri and Leon. See, there was this one time when... Well, without wishing to spoil... I don’t know if I can go through with this. Folks, let me put it to you this way: I’m a huge fan of The Simpsons. But there are some episodes I just can never watch again. Because sometimes, unfair things happen to the main characters and they don’t get any decent justice for it. And I bring this up because the same is true for Kaleido Star. In an attempt to give the viewer a taste of the emotions Sora goes through, the series is rife with bittersweet moments. For example, there’s a bit where her parents visit Kaleido Stage, only for her to flub her act.  But then, her stepdad survives a heart attack, and they both have to head back home before they can see her act perfected. And that's only on the first DVD! There are similar moments here and there throughout the series, but there was one episode from season two which… I’m not gonna spoil it all the way, but suffice to say, it was so depressing, that even to this day it’s given me some form of anime watcher’s PTSD.

The Kaleido Stage productions are just as stunning for real-world viewers as for its in-world audience.

It is worth going through all that just to watch the finished acts. Like the superhuman feats of strength and spirit showcased in other genres of anime, the routines here are based in reality but throw in the right pinch of exaggeration and magic that only the medium can provide, to create the perfect spectacle. It also helps that they brought on the multitalented circus performer Atsushi "Dio" Kobayashi – no, not that "Dio" – as a special advisor. (Fun Fact: A character in one of the filler episodes was named Dio in his honour.) (Second Fun Fact: Ironically, the character Dio uses a whip, even though his namesake quit that act ever since accidentally injuring an assistant with one.) The end result is that the writers and animators know their stuff; they know the ins and outs of how each of the apparatuses are used, how the acrobats must train themselves to use them, and they also know where they can take creative liberties to create the perfect animated spectacle. Let me put it to you this way: if they made an OVA which was nothing but one full-length Kaleido Stage performance, it would be like the COOLEST thing ever!

Thankfully, the animation is up to the task of bringing it all to life where it counts, doing sweet justice to the many performace scenes. Even if the other scenes get the short end of the budget, such as some training sequences relying on a series of still-image overlays to show action, the animation quality never dips below comfortably competent even then. As for the voice acting, the Japanese dub has got the goods, with Ryo Hirohashi's Sora packed with the enthusiasm so inextricably associated with the character, albeit never crossing over the boundaries of being "sugary". The English version, whilst by no means being of 4Kids caliber, has a few more misses. In her take on the lead role, Cynthia Martinez does keep much of the emotion of her character intact, but sounds far too young and, dare I say it, annoying for a lead character. Ironically, the reverse is true for Serena Varghese as Rosetta Passel, the young diabolo champion who joins the cast a few episodes in, who sounds too old and wooden for someone her character's age. And rounding out his status as a "meh" character, John Swasey's performance as Ken is downright derpy. I do like how the English actors for Yuri and Leon did their respective Russian and French accents, but other than that, I can't completely recommend the English dub.

And then, there's the soundtrack. You may not think the soundtrack can make or break an anime, but it can. And in the case of Mina Kubota's score for Kaleido Star, it makes the show. The lighter scenes use cheery woodwind melodies, the more melancholy moments bring in solo horns or pianos, and the circus performances bring the whole orchestra together for an epic musical climax. In fact, I doubt that certain scenes would have had half the dramatic impact if not for the music scored for them. The same cannot be said of the theme songs, however, which are pretty much your standard female-fronted J-pop fare. If I have to pick a favourite among them, I'd choose "Tattoo Kiss", used during the second season, because unlike the others its melody at least has some texture to it, starting in a minor key only to crescendo into a major-key climax.

In the case of Kaleido Star, I do see a couple of flaws here and there. Some of the more emotional scenes are just too hard to sit through for some viewers, myself included, and of course the English dub's a little hit-or-miss. But let me put it to you this way: I don’t know if I'll ever raise a family. But if I do so, I would show this to my hypothetical children. Sora Naegino is just such a great role model for anyone who has goals for their lives. It's true that outside circumstances may put a damper on those plans, but with enough diligence and the right attitude, she can power throw anything life throws at her. Now that, more than anything I could say about the animation, the music, the storylines ‒ which are all fantastic by the way ‒ is the greatest compliment I could give anything. But even if Kaleido Star's problems are enough to dock it some points in the end, well, that's why I invented the Dragon Award modifier -- to celebrate those works which do something so amazingly and uniquely good, that I simply have to recommend them despite any minor flaws. So, if you can steel yourself for a bit of heartbreak, you're in for a fantastic treat for both the eyes and the heart. And hey, if it gets you turned onto Princess Tutu, so much the better! I won't tell.

Positives:
+ Superbly well-written characters.
+ The story is moving and even inspirational.
+ The circus scenes are well-animated.
+ The soundtrack complements the show's moods perfectly.

Negatives:
- Some episodes may be too heart-rendingly bittersweet for some viewers.
- The English dub is a little hit-or-miss.

Acting (English): 3 Fools out of 5
Acting (Japanese): 5 Fools out of 5
Writing: 5 Fools out of 5
Animation: 4 Fools out of 5
Visual Design: 5 Fools out of 5
The Call: 95% (A)