Anime Pilgrimage RTT

Burn Up W

Burn Up W was once considered extreme. By today’s standards, it is practically tame. It is also one of the better OVA series from that interesting time in anime history, the mid-nineties.

In the future (2007, according to internal documentation), Tokyo’s police force is centralised in a giant complex known as Police Town. Within the police force is a secret crack team known as Warrior, consisting of four cute women, a tough one, and a perverted man with a video camera.
The series opens with a terrorist attack on a hotel complex. The terrorists demand ridiculous things in exchange for their hostage’s freedom. Things such as a naked bungee jump performed by their favourite idol. Unsurprisingly, this is a camouflage tactic. The true purpose of the hostage situation is for a syndicate to test its new “Virtual Drug” system.
As the episodes progress, the syndicate becomes increasingly sinister, right up to the realistic (if not crowd pleasing) conclusion.

From the first two episodes, one would be excused for thinking that they were watching two different programs simultaneously. The light and fluffiness of Team Warrior – with star member Rio and her Loan Hell – counteracts the dark violence of the syndicate and its mysterious red-head leader.
The last two episodes work because in the first two we gain insight into the lives and behaviours of the characters, and the antics they get up to with their large breasts and panty-selling to get out of debt. In fact, there are even tender moments allowed, adding just that bit more meaning to proceedings.
People freak out when Team Warrior and the syndicate finally clash head on half way through the third episode, yet this is actually one of the strenghts of Burn Up W. Few people can accept just how realistic this series is; for all of its virtual idols, slashed lingerie and giant robot parodies, Rio can’t spend her entire life in the homicide division of the police and expect her worries to revolve solely around shopping debts forever.
The unspeakable tragedies that occure within the third episode are entirely within the realm of possibility. If these events did happen, Rio would react exactly as she does. People can go around leading comedy rich lives and be struck by sudden tragedy. It happens.

Burn Up W is arguably the first “big tit” anime (it’s not, really, but it is a good example of the genre). The characters are attractive, unlike the ultimate in this line, Eiken. Besides which, Burn Up W has a story. The problem seems to be not so much with the fan service as it is the mingling of nudity and violence. Using my unique stance on these things, I argue that certain parts of this program are not service charged.
The most often cited example is Rio versus the knife fighter Wolfhead. To rob Rio of her power (and, more importantly, her pride), he makes her strip. The long pans of Rio’s body as she sullenly removes her uniform may be accused as wholly inappropriate. While it is wrong to objectify Rio in this instance (although this may have been director Negishi’s intent) it is clear that Wolfhead was doing so, an insight into his bastardry. This is exactly as rape in anime isn’t always meant to titillate, and isn’t as jarring as one might expect if they don’t allow it to be.

The animation is pretty right on, the characters are attractive (on the sensible side of top-heaviness) and Imai Yuka is really cool as both comedy Rio and drama Rio – somehow dropping her trademark deep voice for this performance. The OP, “Flash Your Dream” endures in my mind as a classic anime song, and there’s just a general AIC-ness about the whole thing that makes it great to watch.

Burn Up W is actually pretty good, if approached in the right way. The first two episodes are pretty good for comedy, and the last two have a natural progression into drama. Not everything can be expected in this life, and that is what this program tells us. For even more fan service and laughter, there is also the rockin’ sequel Burn Up Excess a worthy and less worrisome successor to this crown.

Emma – episode 1

“The Gift”

Victorian Romance Emma is the new big anime. So big, even Momotato is watching it. Heck, it’s so big even I’m watching it, and I stick to DVDs.
Continue reading Emma – episode 1…

Outlaw Star – episodes 14 to 26

Outlaw Star generally maintains a high standard in the last stretch, but does fall into some dangerous territory along the way. Dangerous, arbitrary territory.

The MacDougall brothers, until the halfway point, were the main “villains” of the story. They were menacing and, in the case of Harry, borderline psychotic. This was some good material, but along the way the writers seem to realise that they were making these two characters a little too sympathetic, and need to inject a threat. The brothers’ drama is great, but narratively they are seen as less important.

So along comes the the Anten Seven, Outlaw Star‘s equivalent of Rurouni Kenshin‘s Shinsengumi, Kyotogumi – just about any -gumi, really – and Trigun‘s Gung-Ho Guns. A group of seven warriors, among them a face copier, a straight up gunman, some sort of necromancer, and a mistress of using cats in space, the Anten Seven are also after the Galactic Leyline. For a while, it looks like the Anten Seven are going to infect the show and make it a countdown to inevitability. This, fortunately, does not eventuate.
This storyline does throw something for a loop. One might expect that an “expert with cats in space” would be a funny thing, especially when this deadly assassin is a twelve year old girl. Yet this episode turns out to be one of the more serious in the series, and has a truly unexpected outcome – the height of the storyline.

The final break before the home stretch is the episode titled “Hot Springs Planet Tenrei”. It is exactly as it sounds, and is one of the best fan service and comedy extravaganzas ever. The fan service isn’t ultra servicey, but it goes a long way to producing big laughs while also providing some history of the universe. Not an overall important episode – it was skipped in American TV broadcasts due to the simple issue of Aisha naked – but definitely entertaining to the max.

The final arc builds well, with plenty of drama and laughs. The sole problem is that it becomes extremely arbitrary at the very end, introducing the idea of making Hazanko, leader of the Anten Seven, centre of a big final confrontation piece. The journey had been fine, but this seemed like the wrong way to conclude it: with giant big growing things that should not ultimately have been as important as they were.

Outlaw Star was fun to watch, with one of the most shocking episodes and one of the best fan service episodes ever. The thing that makes this sort of series work is a great crew, and the Outlaw Star definitely had one of those.

Lightning Speed!

I have decided that in the interest of expediency and me not having to draw at straws, for the second halves of series I’m no longer going to try giant explosive entries. Anime Pilgrimage’s concept is not as it was when it began 13 months ago. There’s not enough time to write each series as a journey.
This way, I will be able to banish Argentosoma and Outlaw Star with small, concise articles, and guiltlessly move onto something else.

EDIT: HC made me realise that I was a bit ambiguous, so I’ve edited this to make my intent clearer.

Angel Heart – Love of City Hunter in the shadow of its sequel

Note: Those who intend to take up City Hunter should not read this article until they are far, far, deeply immersed in the series – and only then if they’re thick-skinned.

Angel voice, a new but nostalgic echo
–“Angel Night” OP for City Hunter 2

A post at Kakumei alerted me to the fact that a new anime called Angel Heart is to be part of the upcoming Spring season. The comment “what’s that? City Hunter!” intrigued me, and I set out on a quest. Taking my readings somewhat further I found that, 14 years after City Hunter ’91 comes a “sequel”.
It is not pretty, and for this reason mangaka Tsukasa Houjo suggests that he has written an “alternate universe” for fear of upsetting City Hunter fans. And I am upset.

“Parallel universe” and “coincidentally the same characters” arguments don’t cut it. City Hunter is a world where danger is supposed to lurk, and tragedy can strike. Think of Angel Heart as a bus stop: one might choose to get off at the end of City Hunter or to stay on, venturing to parts unknown. Double think and remove any knowledge of Angel Heart from your mind. Walk away!

Angel Heart is the story of the professional killer “Glass Heart” – a woman who feels remorse for the crimes she has committed. Glass Heart commits suicide, but is saved by surgeons by way of heart transplant. You can probably see where this is going … (or not, seeing as this is nothing like what City Hunter has offered) the heart that Glass Heart receives is that of Kaori, hit by a car on the day of her wedding to Ryo.
Glass Heart eventually finds herself at Cat’s Eye, where she meets Ryo. Ryo has given up the role of City Hunter but connects to Glass Heart through the shared link of Kaori.
So as not to weigh the series down completely, Ryo does learn to move on somewhat; that is, he still hits on the visions that pass by Shibuya. Saeko can see that Ryo is not completely reverted to “mokkori pervert” mode, but this is how the series has always worked: serious Ryo hiding underneath the outgoing Ryo.

The core issue presented to Ryo at the outset is impotence. The most dramatic moments in City Hunter occurred when Ryo was powerless to do anything to stop disaster. In this instance, Kaori is not claimed by a bullet, or by anything to do with the underworld, but rather as a result of her own kindness: saving a child from being hit.
The unstated reason that Ryo rarely let on to Kaori his feelings was because he wanted to shield her from that world. Time and time again he saved her, and now it seems that it was all for nought. Not even City Hunter can stop that sort of tragedy.

The idea of Angel Heart so upset me that I knew there was one thing that would stop me from ever watching it: Kamiya Akira. For a while now I have thought that I might be unable to watch Macross again because Kamiya is Ryo – and to see anyone else in the role would be criminal. At the moment I understand that Kamiya is reprising the role of Ryo (last played six years ago) one more time. Kamiya handles the role perfectly, and with the somewhat delicate material on offer here, this will definitely be necessary.

Thinking about this issue has made me realise how much I love City Hunter: Kaori, Ryo and everyone else. The series is written in a way to make the recurring characters as friends to the point that to see any one of them die, even Reika, is upsetting. Getting this news in the week I saw an episode of City Hunter 2 that truly moved me is an extreme coincidence.
The other odd aspect is that, in reality, Kaori has been dead for four years, Angel Heart‘s manga having debuted in 2001. Yet, due to chance, I found out just this week. Almost definitive proof that chance is indeed a harsh and fickle mistress – precisely the idea peddled in Angel Heart.

Angel Heart, whether or not I choose to watch it (indeed, if someone chooses to sub it), has done something important for me. In light of its announcement, I have realised how important City Hunter and its characters are to me. I will cherish the time I have left with Kaori and Ryo, and then perhaps move on, as Ryo inevitably will. Angel Heart is not just about its tragic base: from it, something new has to grow.
Undoubtedly, it would be interesting to see what that will be.

Eiken

Again, extreme use of breast synonyms follows. Also I went overboard with text enhancers.

I recommend Eiken.

Wait, no I don’t. In this world we have anime like Cosplay Complex and Love Hina that have very few redeeming features, but it is the anime like Eiken that receive the truly bad press. What I noticed when I removed the DVD from my player is that the logo is designed to read Eiken ….
Ultimately, “…” is the only appropriate response to this two episode, one hour tit festival.

What the hell is Eiken about? Nobody knows, not even those who have watched it. Especially not those who have watched it.
Mifune Densuke enrols himself at a school with 54,000 students. On his first day, he accidentally trips and fondles wunderkind Shinonome Chiharu’s gigantic breasts. For reasons unknown, this means that he is qualified to join the Eiken Club. What the Eiken Club does is unclear; the only thing for sure is that all of its members except the lolis have ginormous boobs.
After about seventeen minutes of hilarious misunderstandings!!!! between Chiharu and Densuke, the school’s annual competition kicks in. Who knows what the prize is? Who cares! Swimsuits!
The second episode continues the competition and introduces a rival for Chiharu’s non-existent affections!

Yeah, I still don’t know what it is about. What is plain to see is that Densuke has no personality. Also, Chiharu has no personality. Densuke even introduces himself as a “boring student”. Chiharu gets no dialogue beyond her stuttering. The rest of the club are just as hideous and annoying, from their leader Kirika with her arbitray decisions to the pink haired girl who probably doesn’t have a name and whose own boobs stick out well past her elbows. There’s even a scientist loli who complains about everything … and a bear.

The designers of Eiken clearly have no sense of aesthetic. The mammaries on display are somehow made to look even more sick by the bright yellow colour of the school uniforms. Amazingly, the one time when the look is almost pulled off okay is when the characters are wearing school swim suits. Kirika is somehow contained, yet there is no hope for pink haired girl (after all, pink haired girl has no torso to speak of; really, she’s just a host for two giant parasites).
Get the characters into normal swim suits and all hell breaks loose – they leak out the sides. To whom did this seem like a good idea? And why did it take a year to animate the second episode?

What is right about Eiken? Practically nothing. The only thing I can think of is the buttocks and panties; in the arena of fan service, miraculously they managed to get the lower half of the female body correct. The few moments when the camera focuses on anything other than massive tits are spent on the more realistically (and, importantly, more attractively) designed … not-breasts.
It is pretty sad when the best thing about an anime program is its ass content.

The cast is made up of mercifully few popular seiyuu, but Kawakami Tomoko has added a rare blotch to her resumé. There are a few up and comers, but most of the cast stayed in junk like this. Oshiro Miwa is particularly bad as Chiharu. Chiharu has no personality to speak of, and here you can see it’s not just the fault of the script!

Eiken is not good. Eiken does not make sense. The characters’ obscene breasts are only barely made up for by the tasteful-by-comparison ass and panty shots. Still, this does not deserve to be the most pilloried anime release ever. It’s not worse than so much other pointless, bad anime … without the boobs, it is almost certain that no one would care.

Berserk – episodes 1 to 13

It is a sad fact that many anime fans go on first impressions. If you were to do that with Berserk, you would be hit by a first episode that is entirely unrepresentative of the whole, and quite uninteresting at that.

In a medieval land, war constantly rages between the Midland folk and the Chuders. The Midland armies have a trump card: a group of mercenaries known as the Band of the Hawk. After three years working under the Midland monarchy, the Band of the Hawk are granted official regiment status and their leader, Griffith, is knighted.
This political context is that which surrounds the three main characters: Guts, a man forced into the Band of the Hawk; Caska, a woman who has spurred herself to victory by rejecting stoicism; and Griffith himself, ruthlessly in pursuit of his dream.
When the series begins, and you would be hard pressed to remember this, Griffith appears to have become the King of Midland, and Guts, going by the name “The Black Swordsman” is out to get him; Caska’s whereabouts is unknown. The first episode cuts, in the last thirty seconds, to the distant past and chronicles Guts’ entry into the Band of the Hawk and the band’s subsequent rise to official status.
Dark glimpses of Griffith’s mysterious “Egg of the King” pendant give suggestion to the future that awaits.

The first episode of Berserk is likely designed to give the viewer a feel for Guts’ “bad ass” nature and the extreme violence that the series promises; it does not. The action in this episode is largely confined to Guts charging people, and the results of his violence are displayed as still images with animated blood spraying from them. This is hardly inspiring.
Repeat viewings, when one understands what is going on, might make the first episode a better prospect; as an introduction to the world of Berserk, it fails.

The strength of Berserk is in its characters; there is a political undercurrent, but for once it plays in the background to the development of the tricky relationships between Guts, Caska and Griffith. The characters take the story with them, rather than the story carrying them along – at least, from the second episode onwards.
While Griffith holds them together, it seems that on the whole this is about Guts and Caska’s relationship. Caska is both jealous as a warrior and a woman; Griffith gives all of his praise and attention to Guts, and shows an interest in the princess of Midland. Caska’s past led to her being a highly strung woman in the first place,
The only real criticism that can be levelled here is the writers’ reliance on the “female warrior fails because she is on her period” device – firstly because Caska seems never to have had this problem in more than ten years of battling, and secondly because it is a contrived way to suggest that women have no place in melees and need Guts to look after them.
Around the pivot of Caska, the series is turning.

The casting is generally right on, but the Guts of three years’ before the “modern past” period of the story is not suited to Hayashi Nobutoshi’s voice; it may have worked better if there had been three different Guts actors for each stage of his development.
The highlight is Miyamura Yuko’s turn as Caska, which gives her a chance to play her usual angry self but with a dramatic edge; she is definitely nice to watch.

On the other end of the production scale, the OP and ED are laughable. From the beginning of “Tell Me Why”, the viewer is struck by the hilariously untuned instruments. Then the nonsensical lyrics kick in. There’s a certain charm to the song that means one can keep going back to it and laughing. “Waiting So Long”, on the other hand, is not actually very good at all. What does “spending my glass” even mean?
This is all a pity, because the song used for the next episode previews is excellent. “Forces” is reminiscent of the powerful music of Millennium Actress. This sort of music is very modern but manages to transcend ages; it is an inspirational battle song.

Berserk is less bleak than one might imagine; at times it has just the lightest touch of comedy while maintaining the characters’ horrific pasts. Worth watching for the characters, and because every anime fan should listen to these superlative OP and ED at least once in their career.

City Hunter 2 – episodes 21 to 45

In my convalescence, I reached an epiphany: City Hunter is pure. There is a comfort in the familiarity of the series; every episode works as one might expect, but frequently they offer new insight into Ryo’s character or his feelings for Kaori. Several aspects of the series improve as they come along, with Umibozu becoming an increasingly excellent character.
For this reason, it is excellent to watch to get back into things.

There will always be questions about the nature of City Hunter. Why, if Ryo’s identity must remain secret, are his services publicly advertised by Kaori? There are so few episodes that actually use the XYZ system that it borders on weird – especially as there is an episode about a photographer aiming to uncover City Hunter’s identity and spread his good word throughout Japan. This makes no sense, a tactic that is usually engaged in City Hunter for laughs alone. This two parter is one of the biggest let-downs because its nonsensicality is treated seriously; the situation simply does not and should not work like it does.

OH DEAR LORD THE MAN WITH THE CYBERNETIC ARM – I normally edit out my notes, but I think this one should stay. Among these episodes is a particularly nice two parter about Makimura. Clever editing abounds, and nice character depth is shown; Kaori and Ryo both knew Makimura very well, but never each other until Makimura was gone. What marrs this episode is the inclusion of a villain who has a prosthetic arm – the sort that you can attach cannons and the like to. Considering that particular character’s alleged origins, this could have been handled much better. City Hunter is still capable of darkness; it should have been used here, even if that villain was not the focus of the episode.
This is yet another episode that proves that City Hunter does rely overly on orphans, but that is not something to worry about.

Complaints out of the way, there are many good things going for this series. One quite funny episode is about ninja trying to live in a modern world; their breed is dying out as more and more become salarymen. The best thing about this is that the ninja want to become salarymen and fantasize about desk jobs. The conclusion of the episode completely ignores continuity, but all is worthwhile. City Hunter‘s comedy doesn’t always have to make sense – which is why the hypnotism episode is so damned confusing.
The two parter “Ryo is the love thief” is based on the worst joke in City Hunter history, but that does not stop it from hilarity. The situations, judged by previews (“Ryo and the Esper Girl”), make the writers look like they are grasping at straws; however, the quality of execution seldom fails to disappoint.

The biggest highlight is Umibozu. The giant man is an excellent character, a more serious Ryo. However, upon meeting Miki (a character that left me befuddled in City Hunter: Magnum of Love and Destiny) in episode 40, a new side of his character is revealed. Tessho Genda gets a meatier role and more chance to work range. One might be surprised to see Umibozu bursting out laughing, but thanks to Miki this actually happens. Umibozu still has his own dark past, but has now found something good that has grown from that. This means that he is able to whisper threats to Ryo, rather than being permanently gruff. Umibozu comedy became a whole lot funnier as a result.
The examples of character depth given in these episodes prove that City Hunter can, indeed, be worthwhile.

The OP “Sarah”, introduced around episode 27, is the best since the original “City Hunter”. The animation gives a great sense of four of the main characters and, as usual, it is an outlet for Kaori and Ryo romance. The ED changes as well, to something by TM Revolution. This is a welcome change from “Super Girl” which, while a fine song, is not suitable for some of the bleeds between episode endings and the ED (the upbeat tones are not suitable for episodes in which Ryo is forced to kill an old friend, for example). TM Revolution’s song works for both happy and sombre episodes, an excellent medium.

City Hunter 2 is reassuring anime that has some gems of laughs. The scenarios no longer impress with great frequency (the writers have done the “visiting princess at threat from own advisor” story at least six times now over both series), but there are still some great character revelations. It’s hackneyed, yes, but Umibozu, Saeko, Reika, Ryo and Kaori are like old friends. Around halfway through the whole four seasons, I’m already starting to miss them.

Three week absence

Due to a shift of gears and a desire to spend more time watching anime than writing about it, I have left the month of March pretty much bare on this site. Ever since The Big O II – indeed, since Pom Poko (seen at the start of January, written up in February) – I have had difficulty writing about anime.

I will endeavour to actually put stuff up, but somewhere along the way it stopped being about the journey; that was the point of the pilgrimage. This site was like my anime footsteps.

Anyway! I recommend that to keep track of my updates you use my handy feed. I will be back, and that little device will tell you when.

Dead Leaves

“Nothing I see shocks me any more.”
Fifty minutes of liquid desensitisation is the perfect summary of Dead Leaves, a sure fire sign that Manga Entertainment throwing money at things can pay off sometimes.

In the middle of nowhere, a man and woman wake up naked. The man has an old-style television for a head, so he calls himself Retro; the woman a ring around one eye, making her name Pandy. Retro and Pandy have amnesia, so naturally the first thing they do is go on a violent crime spree.
Their actions catch up to them soon enough, and Retro and Pandy are imprisoned on the moon. The moon is home to genetic freaks like themselves, and is run by two sadistic wardens and an evil “princess”.
The two criminals break out of their strait jackets and lead the rest of the inmates on a wild escape. There are many casualties on both sides along the way. Retro and Pandy must take on the evil princess before they can fully take their leave.

Dead Leaves never stops moving. This means that it is incredibly fun to watch, but also that it would not do to give it too many repeat viewings. The mind actually boggles at how anyone could write this; Honda Takeichi (alias Imai Toonz) somehow managed to produce a script that represents fifty minutes of energy. The waves of the narrative are so major that to describe them would be to excise the “mystique”.

As the anime itself is one big scene, there is little point in examining storytelling nuance. Dead Leaves is presented in the form of one big comic book most of the time, with the action actually divided into panels and sound effects animated across the top of the picture (language choice here is random).
The colour design is bold and the civilian and police designs simple. For this reason, watching secondary characters actually becomes enjoyable. They are uniform, and therefore unimportant. When the escaped moon prisoners die, it is much more gruesome as each one of them is unique – from the quack doctor to the man who has a drill for a penis (affectionately referred to by the production staff as “Dick Drill”).

The designs themselves are slightly vulgar, but do not cross the line into full-fledged vulgarity until being animated; one character has testicles for his head, which looks bad but not too obvious. Then he starts moving, and white liquid starts spitting out of his top. Still, the action is too frenetic to dwell on any one sickness; each instance kind of mounts upon the next, causing an avalanche of so many things to freak viewers out that they cancel each other into negative space.

The one problem with the production is definition: the characters do not have bold lines to separate them from their environments, so some times this looks like a giant blend. It’s not frequent enough to be a major issue, but it makes something that is barely coherent slightly less so. Dead Leaves is definitely not for the passive viewer; it practically demands wide, open eyes at all times.

A cast of veterans (and relative newcomer Honda Takako as Pandy) brings the OVA to life. Watching supplementary materials, it becomes apparent that the entire cast loved Dick Drill, and Takagi Wataru and Yamaguchi Kappei tried to quit their primary roles so they could take the character on. It is not even as if he says anything particularly memorable; he just has a drill.
Mizutani Yuko goes completely against type as Galactica, princess of the moon. Mizutani, normally known for bubbly, slightly grating types such as Tenchi Muyo’s Mihoshi, plays Galactica as a woman smouldering with hatred.
Watching an excerpt from the recording session, the dedication of the actors and the effort that they had to is readily apparent. How do you voice act decapitations? Mizutani’s energy, Honda Takako’s smooth anger and Yamaguchi Kappei’s shrillness hold this all together.

Dead Leaves is fun. They don’t make anime like this any more, and on the whole that is a good thing; if it were made at the start of the nineties, it would not garner a recommendation. There is nothing for it to float to the top of, and for this reason, the Dead Leaves stands alone.