The aniblog discussion club: erudite thought within

[TheSubtleDoctor]

not R1 sales revenue but R1 licensing revenue

AH, of course. I see. How could I have misread it?

licensing revenue

You're right, and that makes more sense...cause now they know they can't depend on R1Land licensing Avenger, Fafner, etc.

[blkmage]

---

THIS WEEK, we step away from meta discussions about industry and culture and we look at the parts of anime we actually like: the shows. And we'll start off with two shows that I'm sure everyone loves to death. Let's read Remembering Love as Homage in Anime: Eureka SeveN x Mobile Suit Gundam:

Paying homage in the context of a media work is the recreation of one work of fiction in the context of another, with the referencing done as an ‘inside joke’ or an ‘easter egg’ for those familiar with the referenced work. Often this is done with the intention of honoring or paying respect to the referenced work as being the direct inspiration for the referencing one. When done well — that is when the execution of the sequence becomes more than just a derivation and becomes a powerful scene on its own, without making familiarity with the referenced work contingent to the enjoyment of the scene. Familiarity with the original work though, can and does add significant value especially for a dedicated fan.

Recently I’ve had conversations and have read random articles noting the trend of referencing anime, and how the value of these works are not necessarily correct relative to their acclaim and/or popularity (e.g. Lucky Star, Kannagi). Against a universal measure or standard, I can sympathize with ‘correcting’ the assessment of the value of these shows, but on the whole I like them a lot, Lucky Star in particular precisely because of the light-hearted referencing of anime, manga, and other otaku cultural products. Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann is another highly acclaimed and very popular title that indulges heavily in referencing and homage. Very few (if any at all) complain about TTGL’s referential behavior, I do however believe that it is exceeded by far by another work.

TTGL referenced themes, visuals, and ‘trademark moves’ of it’s subjects. From the TV Tropes wiki [->]

Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann is full to bursting with homages. There’s a reason why people have said that the show parallels trends in the mecha genre:

• The Action Prologue is an homage to Captain Harlock (especially the clanking noise the captain makes when moving), which lead to fanscalling the figure “GARlock“
• Several parts of the aquatic fight against Adiane where an homage to the fight against the aquatic angel from the eigth episode of Neon Genesis Evangelion, most noticably defeating the aquatic Gunmen by firing at it with battleship cannons at point-blank range and the cross-shape explosion it makes.
• There’s also the arms crossed pose that the Chouginga Gurren Lagann has when it appears, the look of the Lazengann, the 8th parallel work with Ganmen that look like Getter Robo, Mazinger Z and other classic Humongous Mecha, having a city built around a giant robot ship, Simon holding Nia while covering her in his cloak (which just makes the next scene and even bigger sucker punch), the Gurren Lagann’s helmet.

This is all good, and I do think that these visual and perhaps superficial references are the loving touches that make them entertaining and/or significant. But yes, there’s more. In a previous post I’ve attempted to demonstrate how Eureka SeveN is an excellent demonstration of love remembered for Mobile Suit Gundam through it’s character Holland Novak as a play on iconic Gundam characters Bright Noa and Char Aznable/Quattro Bajeena. Here I will highlight a different homage, a personal favorite due to the strong opinions I’ve had both positive and negative for the referenced material.

Rals, Beams, Runaways, Revenge, and failed Redemption
Amuro runs away, Renton runs away. From my earliest articles on Gundam I’ve written about Amuro’s flight from the White Base as one of the more deplorable actions done by a lead character.

I was particularly upset with Amuro in this arc. I do believe that his running away was an atrocious act. Not only did he desert in the desert, he stole the Gundam and buried it in a hole. He had no plan and didn’t even know where he was headed. He didn’t even bring provisions! Conveniently for the plot the town of Sodon was near enough to walk to which set up the meeting between Amuro and Ramba (and Lady Hamon) in a small saloon. LOLTOMINO plot convenience.

Amuro runs away primarily because he overheard Bright and Mirai discuss the pitfalls in highlightning how Amuro is the only person who can pilot the Gundam. Amuro takes this as a betrayal and runs away, taking the Gundam with him. Eureka SeveN thankfully chose different motivations/reasons for Renton to leave. It’s important to note too that Renton is the only person who can pilot the Nirvash with Eureka (or even without her, which is significant); even more importantly, Renton is treated far, far worse in the Gekko-go compared to Amuro in the White Base. Renton is hazed and picked on from all fronts, trolled and bullied even by his own sympathizers.

And due to the 10k character limit (which I seem to be hitting a lot recently), Part I ends here. Look forward to Part II in a few seconds, after you scroll down!

[blkmage]

And as promised, here's Part II of the same post:

Renton left due to an amalgamation of the following events and his resulting emotions:

• He believed Holland was not doing enough to save Eureka who was ill. Talho straightened him out: “For him, Eureka was always more important. More than the waves, more than me… and probably more than his own life too!”
• Renton runs away because he felt smaller than Holland — who is one of the two things Eureka trusts (Holland and the Nirvash). He felt unworthy of Eureka. Amuro ran away because he felt unappreciated and held on an overvalued sense of self. Renton ran away because of guilt, saying: “I’m just a kid. I don’t know anything! I’m just a kid!”
• But first, he saves holland! He utters a refrain: “I’m just a kid. I’m just a kid who can’t do anything. But… I didn’t know anything, about Holland… about Eureka… about anything. I knew nothing!”
• Renton hates himself for acting in his ignorance, and kills many pilots in their LFOs in a fit of berserk rage. This is something that he will deeply regret.
• While the guilt for not taking care of Eureka in a way that will earn him her reliance (the way Holland does it) is the initial impetus for running away. He actually gets to protect her (and Holland). However, his guilt becomes horrifying after he realizes that he has become a ruthless killer. The image of the severed arm with a wedding ring among the corpses he left on the field got to him (a refrain sung again in Ray Beam’s final moments).

I’m not suggesting that Renton is a superior character than Amuro, only that he is a more nuanced and developed character than Amuro within a context of a 50 episode anime. Amuro will undergo a lot of growing up and do a lot of awesome things in the sequels (Mobile Suit Zeta Gundam, and Char’s Counterattack), which is not to say that Amuro doesn’t kick *** in Mobile Suit Gundam.

I could go on and on and profile the distinctions and nuances of the primary players in the respective anime arcs of these shows, but at this point I will submit a summary of the references and some of my impressions.

Table of Similarities/References

• Lead character runs away: Amuro runs away and steals the Gundam, buries it in a hole in the middle of nowhere. Renton runs away, steals Moondoggie’s backpack which gets stolen anyway by another vagabond while Renton sleeps at a pedestrian shelter.
• Chance meeting between lead character and enemies: Having run out of provisions (not having brought any) Amuro steps into a saloon, where Ramba Ral and Hamon Crowley bring their unit for a meal. Renton wanders to a daytime rave party where Charles Beams was partying. He takes him along with him.
• Enemies take a liking to the lead character: Ramba admires Amuro’s guts when he sees him armed and prepared to fight when Fraw Bow was in apparent danger at the hands of Ramba’s troops. Charles and Ray Beams take to a very strong liking to Renton and treat him very kindly and responsibly contrasting sharply with the treatment he got in the Gekko-go.
• Female enemy longs for a child, like the lead: Ramba asks hamon directly: “Do you like a child like that of your own?” Charles and Ray insist that Renton call them ‘Papa’ and ‘Mama.’ In addition, the two of them behave with such kindness and understanding Renton has never received in his life.
• Male enemy has a blue mecha: The MS-07B Gouf. Spearhead SH-101
• Enemy mecha is superior to commonly fought units: “This is no Zaku boy, this is no Zaku.” To begin with, the Spearhead does not require a ref board to acces trapar waves and therefore fly.
• Enemy(/ies) have a past with lead’s crew members: Ramba Ral raised Core Fighter/Gundam pilot Sayla Mass (Artesia Deikum) while she needed to be hidden from her father’s assassins. Charles, Ray, Eureka, and Holland are all former SOF members who fought together. Charles and Holland were friendly rivals.
• Female crew member fights/threatened by enemies (connected by past): Sayla makes it clear to Ramba that she opposes the Principality of Zeon by affiliating with the Earth Federation, despite her feelings for him. Eureka is vehemently despised by Ray Beams. Ray associates Eureka with the Seven Swell event which resulted in her inability to bear children. Revenge on Eureka is a powerful motivation for her.
• Enemies besiege the lead’s ship in a boarding maneuver: Ramba takes an assault team and takes on the White Base, but fails to control it. Charles and Ray (awesomely) assaults the Gekko-go but are ultimately thwarted after an intense struggle.
• Male enemy is blasted to bits via explosives: Ramba leaps from a hole in the White Base and into the Gundam’s palm screaming: “This is what it means to meet defeat in battle!” He then detonates a bomb on his person and is blasted to bits. Charles is killed by Holland who pumps his guts full of submachine gun fire at point blank. A captured Ray later asks to get close to the body, but detonates a bomb on it. She uses the explosion to get away from her captors.
• Female enemy valorously continues the mission at decreased odds: The remnants of Ramba’s command isn’t really much to challenge the White Base with, considering that the WB did not incur significant human or material losses. Hamon does well for herself actually, which was awesome to witness. Ray took on the Gekko-go in a frontal assault all by herself. This woman is bad-***. The battle that ensued was very intense viewing for me.
• Female enemy gets killed while performing a suicide attack: It took Ryu’s suicide attack with a core fighter to stop Hamon from destroying the Gundam and killing Amuro by firing an explosive shell at point blank range. Holland shoots Ray in her cockpit while she almosts succeeds in ramming the Gekko-go with her own mobile base. Her final moments reaching for her severed arm to hold on to her wedding ring for the last time is heartrending.

Part of what I love about Gundam is that its stories are such fertile ground to grow other stories from. The Beams’ story arc in Eureka SeveN is one of my favorites and elements such as Eureka being the cause of Ray’s inability to conceive and that being such a big deal for the Beams add a powerful layer of tragedy to the story. Even more, how they treated Renton as a son with such heartbreaking compassion, understanding, and maturity really tore me up. Even to the very end, when the Beams let Renton go and make the choices of a man, and yet love him to their deaths… these things will never leave me. Contrast this with how wretchedly Holland treated him up to that point (and a little further beyond) and you have even more pathos.

Mobile Suit Gundam had some of this too, with Sayla Mass growing up with Ramba Ral’s family and he getting shot trying to call out to her, which led to his eventual death. So Eureka SeveN had to do much more than copy the elements. The characters they introduced are far more sympathetic (to me at least), and were allowed to behave in very fallible ways (without tarnishing their charm). Their portrayal allowed far-reaching characterization that set up the tragedy quite beautifully. I didn’t care much for the Ramba Ral arc save for Ramba being of a class of manly soldier seldom seen in contemporary anime. Eureka SeveN made me remember Gundam with more fondness, made me appreciate Ramba and Lady Hamon and their place in the Gundam mythology.

I’m very fond of the idea of newer works serving as an entry point to discovering older creators and works, an entire genre, or even an entire medium. Outside of anime we have video games such as Rock Band, and Guitar Hero who introduce ‘classic’ rock to a new generation of fans; related to this is how many mecha fans are familiar with a large number of robots, and a fair bit of their backgrounds and stories without actually having seen them yet through the Super Robot Wars franchise of video games. These games make the older works accessible. I think shows like Eureka SeveN, and Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann can be used awesomely as introductions to mecha anime in general. The love is strong in these shows.

So, talk about great moments in shows that are homages to other ones, and great moments in Eureka Seven and Mobile Suit Gundam. What makes an homage? For example, the part of a show that I've always associated with Amuro's desertion and encounter with Ramba Ral was Kira's encounter with Andrew Waltfeld in Gundam SEED, largely because it's one of the first shows I've watched. Looking back, it's clearly meant to mirror Amuro and Ral. However, given what Gundam SEED is, is that particular part an homage or is it a ripoff?

[blkmage]

---

Welp, I guess no one liked Eureka Seven. Oh well.

I guess we'll forge ahead now with a post about a movie everyone should watch. After all, Time waits for no one:

(Even as The Girl Who Leapt Through Time is light on plot, I've no interest in spoiling the film, so you'll have to excuse a few ambiguous statements. If anyone has a request for spoiler-filled clarifications, I'll give them in the comments section.)

Before 2006, Mamoru Hosoda was only on the radar of a select few who were not close-minded enough to dismiss the possibility that two short Digimon films and one One Piece could actually be worthwhile. (Although they'll be forgiven for not knowing that Hosoda used the pseudonym Katsuyo Hashimoto as he worked on multiple episodes of Revolutionary Girl Utena.) I'll cover those at a later time, but as curious anime critics will attest to, those works are not only good, but excellent. They float with an air of whimsy and appreciation for the minutiae of everyday life, even if their plots go far above the fascinatingly trivial characteristics that are so perfectly captured in the better Ghibli films. It should then be no surprise that Hosoda himself is a Ghibli alumnus. The man was poised to ascend as a spiritual successor to Hayao Miyazaki, but some apparent studio politicking forced him from his duty's as director as Howl's Moving Castle (even after having storyboarded more than a third of the movie!). His exit, along with Yoshifumi Kondo's (Whisper of the Heart) tragic passing in 1998, has left us with a Ghibli that seems to have been in a struggle to continue its legacy of excellence that Hayao Miyazaki and Isao Takahata had established and maintained for decades.

But this is not to bog ourselves down as we look over our shoulder into a past that can and should have been better. Hosoda himself recognizes this (and will be explained later), and this virtue is what led him to create his critically-acclaimed piece that finally put him on the map: The Girl Who Leapt Through Time.

High school student Makoto Konno, after slogging through one of the worst days of her life -- waking up late, utterly failing a quiz, scalding herself when cooking and starting a fire, getting inadvertently hit as some boys goofily play around, and nearly (!) killing herself at a train crossing -- manages to survive and go through the past thanks to an accidental event that allows her to leap through time. From this contrivance Hosoda shows a montage of hilarious situations where Makoto milks this gift, such as getting to the pudding before her sister does, working in ten hours of karaoke in one day, or besting her friends in baseball. The prevailing strengths of the Digmon and One Piece are on full display as Hosoda effortlessly shows through understated character animation the comical stumbles and triumphs that Makoto encounters in her pursuit of, what she feels, wrongs that need to be righted. However, it is when the potential love lives and interests of and from two of her closest friends, Chiaki Mamiya and Kousuke Tsuda, where short-term plans are shelved. Amidst confessions and confusions, Makoto avoids and pushes other characters, but never gets it right through incidental complications she's created. Her situation becomes more serious as a boy she had switched places with in order to avoid the cooking burn and fire is now bullied by others; he eventually responds to even more radical degrees to his assailants. Even when Makoto time leaps to save one of her friends, another is still hurt, establishing the fact that things have gone wildly out of control with the young girl's self-indulgent meddling.

At last, as the final third of the film begins, the story turns a notch darker, back to the roots of the original novel by Yasutaka Tsutsui (Paprika). This pseudo-sequel to the aforementioned book (which has been adapted numerous times into live-action) does gradually grip its science-fiction trappings. After an hour of sharp comedy, showing just how important these small-scale and throwaway incidents are to teenagers, Hosoda and screenwriter Satoko Okudera throw in a morbid though retrospectively fittingly planned twist. It is a literally time-stopping event, one that reveals not only the origin for Makoto's sudden powers, but allusions to a larger history -- all beautifully edited and assisted by Kiyoshi Yoshida's (Kaiba, Shigurui) excellent musical score.

Undoubtedly this shift to a more dramatic tone and an ambitious, dark scope can be unsettling for viewers. As the film is from Makoto's perspective from start to finish, the transition is unexpectedly jarring. This can be seen and argued as a negative, though given Makoto's previous value on ridding herself of perceivable regrets while ignoring the consequences and big picture, it is less a drawback than a logical thematic development in a story of a girl who struggles with the consequences of her actions.

Still, even with an acceptance of how Hosoda leads into the third act, the climax itself obviously invites some well-considered criticism. A certain promise on the surface may fly in the face of logic, though isn't necessarily meant to be taken literally -- rather, it is an affirmation from one to the other about their relationship. (Though, of course, there is a rational explanation for literalists that satisfies a romantic's interpretation.) The film is one of growth by building upon all experiences -- as the song, "Garnet," for the movie's credits points out -- regardless if they were good or bad. All promises are not or even cannot be kept, but some are, and those can be the ones that truly matter for you and your loved ones. It's best not to be consumed by what could have been; instead, take your opportunities and run towards what can be achieved. This truth is the promise Makoto can make, and is what she learns and accepts by the film's end.

The recently released Summer Wars might well be a more tonally consistent work -- given the possibility that it may be a refinement of Hosoda's old ideas, I expect it to be -- yet that does not diminish the appeal and power of The Girl Who Leapt Through Time. Its optimism goes beyond placating the audience to become a very real message of coming to terms with the regrets and what-ifs of our lives to become better people. Mamoru Hosoda has plenty of years of greatness ahead of him, and I look forward to see where that ideal and passion takes him.

A note. If you've been enjoying this thread but have no idea what to post, please try and say something. I don't want this thread to be just me posting stuff; I want other people to say something too. And I have no way of gauging interest or choosing what to post next if I don't have any feedback at all. And if it seems like no one's interested in it, I'll just eventually let this thread rot.

[TheSubtleDoctor]

That was a fascinating post. Yet more reasons to plunk down twenty bucks for that film the next time I get piz-aid.

In order to post something here, I'm going to go off on a bit of a tangent using an idea in the blog as a springboard. I haven't seen TGWLTT, so my post doesn't have much to do with the movie directly.
---
I love the idea of promise-as-affirmation. Rather than claiming that something is or isn't going to happen, a promise says that the connection b/w the one giving the promise and the one receiving it is such that the promiser will expend every drop of energy s/he posseses for the one s/he gave the promise to. It almost...makes a promise more sacred?Because, even if the promiser fails in achieving what s/he sets out to achieve for the one s/he gave the promise to, in the act of failing s/he gives maximally, all that s/he has, for this person that is important to him/her. If we lived in a world in which all or x-number of promises were guarunteed, then the success or failure of keeping a promise becomes nigh irrelevant. But we don't live in such a world: not all promises can be kept. A promise's value, however, doesn't necessarily hinge on whether it is kept. The failing itself is evidence for maximal output on the part of the promiser for the one s/he gave the promise to. Those who fail to keep promises hit "the invisable wall;" they don't get any help from the universe. S/he didn't have to stop short of giving everything b/c s/he had already succeeded, and s/he didn't have to give only 75% b/c of supernatural help; s/he becomes a cup completely poured out for his/her important person. I can think of little else a human being can do to affirm a relational connection with their existance. Not that promises we are able to keep are bad or less valuable. Far from it. They build trust and allow ones we give promises to feel safe. In failing to keep a promise, however, a human being, with their whole being, can demonstrate to another human being that their relationship is important.

The above suspends the possiblity of insincerity or lack of motivation on the part of promise givers.

[Atria35]

Awesome! XD Okay, this, I can talk about (yeah, I hadn't seen Eureka 7- I keep telling myself it's next on my list, but...).

I always saw the shift in tone from beginning to end as the natural result of things. First you are in Makoto's world, experiencing everything she does, seeing how it affects her. But as it moves on, you see that her POV is very small- that she doesn't really take other people into account. It's when her world starts opening up that she realizes that her actions have consequences. The tone gets darker as her world opens up. It's not unlike what most people go through as they mature. Isn't your world not darker than it was when you were five? As the writer notes, "After an hour of sharp comedy, showing just how important these small-scale and throwaway incidents are to teenagers, Hosoda and screenwriter Satoko Okudera throw in a morbid though retrospectively fittingly planned twist." I do think it's very fitting. It not only brings out how dark reality can be, it can also be seen as her final passage into adulthood, having to face all the bad things that growing up and the passage of time entails and yet stil managing to keep hope for the future no matter how bleak it may appear. It also brings about the idea that their love extends beyond that, literally crosses time, which makes it very bittersweet.

Now, the ending to TGWLTT is either love-it or hate-it. I'm a little of both- my logical side says 'no way will the ever get together again'. Why? Because he's from so far in the future that [spoiler]World War 3 has happened, and enough people have died and knowledge lost that they no longer have baseball! Baseball![/spoiler] But I love it for the romantic implications- I mean, loved ones are often (usually?) promised by a person who's going into a war zone or political hotspot that they'll be okay. Can that always for-sure be fulfulled? No. As Subtle Doctor points out, a promise's value doesn't rest on it's ability to be fulfilled.

[Mr. Hat'n'Clogs]

Though I haven't seen The Girl Who Leapt Through Time yet, I would, after reading the Eureka Seven post, appreciate it if you didn't post spoilers without warnings about shows. I love Eureka Seven, but I haven't seen much of MSG yet, and just got several character deaths spoiled for me, so it would be nice if you could post warnings before a post.

[blkmage]

Though I haven't seen The Girl Who Leapt Through Time yet, I would, after reading the Eureka Seven post, appreciate it if you didn't post spoilers without warnings about shows. I love Eureka Seven, but I haven't seen much of MSG yet, and just got several character deaths spoiled for me, so it would be nice if you could post warnings before a post.

This is the sort of response that doesn't have anything to do with the content of the post but is nonetheless extremely helpful that I like to see. It's ironic because the original post did contain a spoiler warning, which my imprecise copypasting failed to capture.

---

Now then, we'll take a short break of shows that we're familiar with and take a look at a director who may be new to you. Don't worry if you haven't seen his shows, I'm sure you'll go and check them out shortly after. But let's take a look at one of my favourite directors, in Why Shinbo (was: Wherefore shafting)?:
[quote]Few figures in animation are more divisive than Wackiyuki Akiyuki Shinbo, studio head and famously iconoclastic director at SHAFT animation studio. Some love his visually bizarre work, others loathe it for its apparent pretentiousness. Very few people tend to be in the middle. Plenty across the internet have weighed in already – and they tend to do so again every season that one of his series airs.

So what makes this wingnut/auteur so appealing? Let’s pick 5 and run with that (please note that after the jump this post may contain images of animated girls in their skivvies!):

Ownage.
SHAFT’s works are rarely original. And the word “writerâ€

[uc pseudonym]

Some of these discussions I've enjoyed even though I have nothing to contribute. (For example, mecha has never appealed to me on a visceral level so it was interesting to see fans of it talk about the genre.) But with others I have difficulties even giving a neutral response, and this is one of those cases.

I'm a fairly non-visual person. If a work has a certain level of animation quality, the animation style doesn't make a strong difference to me. I might have a comment about the balance between adaptations faithfully replicating the source or creating something new, but I can't really talk about the subject in relation to the applicable titles. Looking over the series listed there, the only one I didn't drop swiftly is Dance in the Vampire Bund (though to be fair I never gave some of them a chance).

[mechana2015]

I've not seen a lot of his work, but the graphics in the first episode of Moon Phase were spectacular if I remember correctly. I'd have to find something with a story I'd like to stick with first before I watch more of this combo's work. I'm not a diehard fan of Negima, and even less of the spinoffs of said series. After reading up on Bakemonogatari, I might be interested in that though. Usually graphics alone can't keep me interested in a series.

[blkmage]

It's not exactly correct to characterize Shinbo's work as amazing art and animation. Rather, it's highly stylized. His style is in the composition of his shots and not any amazing art direction. In fact, the reason for his weird shots is actually in very creative budget-savings techniques. These are things like large amounts of text, quick successive flashes (as opposed to actually animating something), mixing in shots of photos, very simple backgrounds (solid colours or patterns) and other stuff. It turns out it works well because it creates the illusion of dynamism and for a lot of stuff, the heavy use of symbols works out pretty well. His style is very noticeably different from most other studios and directors.

[Atria35]

It's not exactly correct to characterize Shinbo's work as amazing art and animation. Rather, it's highly stylized. His style is in the composition of his shots and not any amazing art direction. These are things like large amounts of text, quick successive flashes (as opposed to actually animating something), mixing in shots of photos, very simple backgrounds (solid colours or patterns) and other stuff.

I've seen Moonphase, and didn't notice it at the time, but I did notice it in Arakawa and Bakemonogatari. And when Ef came out, it seemed to draw a lot of interest to the series (also because it was better than ones they'd done previously, but the animation shots were talked about a lot, I remember).

[blkmage]

---

There might be spoilers.

Byousoku 5cm (5cm Per Second):
[quote][I]“…I can survive, I can endure/And I don’t even think about her/Most of the time…â€

[Atria35]

I... have nothing to say about this. I haven't seen this, unfortunately.

[blkmage]

I... have nothing to say about this. I haven't seen this, unfortunately.

You might wanna remedy that ASAP. You'll be glad you did.

[Mr. Hat'n'Clogs]

Yes, you'll definitely want to remedy this. Just don't do it on a day you want to accomplish something.

And...I'm unsure of what to comment on, really.

[blkmage]

What are your own thoughts on 5cm/s? Do you agree with the guy's commentary and assessment? Anything in particular that moved you?

Like, for me, I did not like the final music video montage very much. I liked that it showed the slow drift between Takaki and Akari since their last meeting and I love TENMON's music. But, I didn't like that it was basically a music video that was the method of delivery.

Even so, in the aftermath of watching that thing, I had the exact same feeling as the blogger: a lingering emptiness that kind of hung around while I was trying to go to sleep (don't watch this for the first time right before you go to sleep) and into the rest of the next day. Luckily, it October so it couldn't have been snowing while I took the subway to work the next day, but boy did I feel weird sitting in a train after watching that.

This is one of those instances where I'm glad I have a blog where I can find out exactly what I was thinking right after I watched something. I guess that should motivate me to actually write something once in a while again.

Something else that I touched on when I talked about Solanin was the power of a work that's able to force you to reflect. In this particular case, distance and relationships (the general kind, not necessarily romantic) remains something that I'm terrible at. It's something that I've been forced to realize over the last four years, how even living only 90 minutes away from home and just letting those friendships kind of sit there and atrophy will slowly deteriorate relationships you've had for years.

[Fish and Chips]

SHAFT/Shinbo

I have something of a love-hate relationship with Shinbo's style. I think of animation as a medium capable of things impossible for standard live-action and special effects, and genuinely appreciate it when directors pull something that could only work on paper, drawn and framed. Escher-eque architecture, suddenly sparse-to-detailed settings, carefully clever cuts to colors and dialogue - used appropriately this is exactly the sort of thing I like to see in animation that doesn't concern itself precisely with the material plane. However, where there's use there's abuse, and you can easily distinguish when Shinbo's leaning on his pet structure like a crutch. A sudden blackout to a simple phrase, clean, sharp, and singled-out, stands out well; massive alternating walls of text against similarly alternating red and white cards is needlessly busy and distracting.

There's a definite place in my heart for Shinbo's style - I just don't think he's done grooming it.

5cm Per Second

I'm sort of the odd party out here - 5cm Per Second is still the only work of Makoto Shinkai I've ever seen, and may continue to be so. The baggage people bring in from his previous efforts to this one is clear from my conscious, so it's not for me to say whether or not he should or needs to move on from whatever theme it is apparently every story he's ever done has been about.

That said, I think I can agree the first chapter of 5cm Per Second is its strongest. There's a certain power in its loneliness, almost to the point that I've considered showing someone only the first segment - pretending like the rest is nonexistent - to find their gut reaction, then reveal that, actually, we're not done here, there are still two more bits to get through.

Also, because I feel like being suddenly antagonistic to Blkmage, I enjoyed ending montage to music except that I felt it went on far too long.

[ich1990]

I personally don't mind the ending montage although as Fish says it seemed a bit long. The way it gave a re-cap of some of the past events and people and showed how much had happened in their separate lives really set the tone for the railroad crossing. If one didn't have that bit to remind them just how much the two had grown apart, the crossing would have seemed harsh, rather than appropriate, I think. Could it have been done in a manner more consistent with the presentation of parts 1 and 2? Probably, and it might have even been better. I don't really have any ideas on what to replace it with, though, so I am content with how it turned out.

[edit]How about swapping the train crossing song with the ending credits song? I can almost see that being better and more inline with the other two parts; currently the music video section is a little jarring.[/edit]

I too, have yet to watch any other full length works of Shinkai, honestly I am a little afraid that they will change my view of 5cm. That being as it is, I can't comment on whether he should branch out into different stories or not. There is something to be said for not following too closely to one's masterpiece, though. I can see it being better for him to go for something different for his next film.

Like Fish, I am partial to part one. It really could be a standalone episode, although I think the other two are plenty good enough to be watched as well.

And.... I guess I don't really have much more to say, aside from watch it if you get the chance. There aren't a lot of shows that I am very lyrical about, especially when talking with non-anime people, but this is one of them. This is the one actually. There isn't a whole lot of culture shock associated with it, and the story is extremely easy to associate with, so it makes a great introductory anime.

[blkmage]

Today, we'll examine another genre, this time slice-of-life, looking at the examples of Lucky Star and Hidamari Sketch in particular. I think it does a fairly good job of comparing and contrasting the two and examining the appeal of the genre. Even if you haven't watched those two in particular, it'll be of interest if you have an opinion about the genre. Let's go, Lucky Star as better Slice-of-life than Hidamari Sketch: The macro v.s. the micro:

You can thank Pontifus for this. I’ve been sucked headlong into that nether realm otherwise known as Real Life ever since my last post, and while this blog isn’t dying any time soon (not when I’ve just been accepted into 9rules!), university and the lack of internet due to an absence of phone lines can only mean that my internet life, what little there was to it, has been unceremoniously cut short.

In any case, what I want to present here is both simple in concept and difficult to grasp: Lucky Star is slice of life first, and comedy second; no matter how you want to argue it, the chances are high that you’ll never enjoy it unless you approach it from that angle, and there’s no exceptions to that rule. It’s the lens by which LS was made to be seen, and if you’ve difficulty in swallowing my argument at this point, well, you’ll find plenty a spoonful of sugar waiting for you after the jump.

First of all, it’s definitely a false dilemma to say that all because there’s pandering (and note here that it isn’t so much character shallowness as it is pandering that’s the issue here) involved, the slice of life factor disappears completely, for they aren’t mutually exclusive, and to make it to seem like it’s an either/or case is misleading. It all goes downhill from here: while up to this point I’d have to say that Pontifus still had a point, from this line onwards it was just like watching a group of Britannian soldiers playing into Lelouch’s request for an honourable battle:

The effectiveness of slice-of-life depends in large part on how recognizable its characters are to us.
How does Lucky Star hold up in that regard? Not so well, I’d say. At long last, let’s take a look at Konata.

With regards to the spectrum, it’s only fair to say that from Manabi Straight onwards, most of the cast in each anime are nigh unrecognisable; an eclectic mix of surreal pandering. Be it a cast of five high-school (but looking very very underage) girls in the distant future or five elementary school girls or four art-school girls right out of the moe catalogue or even a bunch of… gondoliers, there isn’t one of them in the blue spectrum that’s either realistic or not pandering. In other words, fault one, and you’ve got to fault them all for not being as true to life as they should.

It certainly begs the question: Where is the value of slice of life, then? Surely not in the form of a character, that’s for sure. We’ve long established that realism is a rarity in anime; in fact, I’d suspect that the only form of English-speaking anime fans prone to questioning the coloured hair of a cast in a given show would be those of the R1 variety, but the less said about them the better. Here’s a hint: it’s not in how a character’s designed, but how a character behaves; the words coming out of their mouths, do they ring true? Do they behave like I would in a given situation?

This brings me to Hidamari Sketch. It’s an anime well know for its slice of life pedigree; no one debates that, no one has ever debated that, and even after I’m done with this post, I suspect that no one will ever debate it again, not in such a manner at any rate. What I’m about to tell you now, however, is that HS isn’t as slice of life as you thought it was. LS is all of that, and more. How so? To do that, we’ve got to reverse-engineer it, deconstructing slice of life in the process, and how it entertains us with tales of everyday living to great effect.

HS, for all purposes, was spectacular. Take this order of events for example:

1. Yuno internalises A.
2. Miyako internalises B.
3. Yuno and Miyako talk about C with their understood meaning of A and B respectively.
4. Hilarity/realism ensues when they realise that they’re not on the same frequency.

Simple? Quite. Realistic? Very. I’ve lost count of how many times everyday conversation treads along those lines; a common, innocent error in conversation that makes us aware of our imperfections as people; how we fail to get simple meaning across to another person despite how they might be an arm’s length away. We revel in HS and its ilk and laugh at it, but not because it’s funny; when I am laughing at how Yuno, Miyako, and sometimes Sae internalise their thoughts before bringing them together in an explosive conversation, I am not laughing at them per se; rather, I am laughing at myself, having gone through the same experiences as they have.

This is the crux of slice of life — to mirror the viewer’s reality as he or she knows it, albeit through a slightly more polished veneer, and with all the familiarity of an inside joke. This isn’t done through how a character looks, but what a character does. To have that moment, or moments of truth where I see myself reflected in a character’s thoughts, hopes, fears, or actions, and to be able to recognise that I see the reflection — that’s what slice of life’s all about.

All good (and bad, to some extent) anime is necessarily reactive; that is to say, we have a reaction towards whatever is being presented, be it emotional or intellectual. Slice of life differs in that it isn’t so much reaction as it is reflection we’re looking for, and of this HS provides in spades. In the span of a single cour and two OVA episodes, we’re treated to many an everyman conversation, predicament, or situation, and at the end of it all, we’re sated, having gorged ourself on a steady diet of life through rose-tinted glasses.

Is the same reflective nature present in LS? I’d have to say yes, there is, and the quality of it is what matters, not the quantity. Of quantity HS has by the truckload, and if we’re going to debate about exactly how many slice of life moments each show has, then HS wins hands down, no contest. It’s definitely got several weaknesses, though, one of which being that its modus operandi is painfully formulaic to anyone slightly familiar with the series. Take this for instance:

1. Yuno wakes up.
2. Theme/mood/motif of the day is established.
3. This theme/mood/motif is repeated throughout the day.
4. Yuno’s day begins.
5. Conversation happens.
6. Things happen.
7. Slice of life moment.
8. Repeat #5, #6, and #7 for the duration of the episode, in any order.
9. The only exception to #8 would be that occasionally, surreal things happen.
10. At some point or various points throughout the day the daily theme/mood/motif is repeated, occasionally with irony, but always bringing Yuno back full circle.
11. Yuno retires, her day ends.
12. Yuno reflects aloud in the bathtub.

How’s that for repetitive? “But that’s how life works!â€

[blkmage]

Let's continue.
[quote]I see many slice of life shows, those further along the blue spectrum in particular, as possessing what I call “fanserviceâ€

[Atria35]

Belated, yes, but I have to say, I really liked this article. I've come across so many that complain that slice-of-life is rarely slice-of-life, and why are so many that depict unrealistic settings considered such? This is a very detailed legnthening of my answer. And I have to completely agree! The value is not in the setting, but the people. In LS, I got the characters, and was hooked from the first episode's 'coronet', due to having done something similar with my friends. And we reacted much the same way the cast did.

[blkmage]

---

So, I heard you like moe. Welp, here's a post that looks at one possible root cause for the attraction of moe. Careful, though! The post does not explore what you might think it will. Let's read this relatively short bit (less than ten thousand characters for once!) titled Thinking About Blobs: KyoAni and Social Impairment:

“Thus, when you look at a photo or a realistic drawing of a face, you see it as the face of another. But when you enter the world of the cartoon, you see yourself.”
- Scott McCloud, Understanding Comics

Tomorrow is the start of Silver Week. Instead of traveling like everyone else in Japan, I plan to stay at home, study and catch up on anime. One of the shows I have in queue is Clannad After Story, which I’ve been thinking about for a while. But I have mixed feelings about the plot, and I also can’t think of Clannad without thinking of Kyoto Animation and the “moeblobs” that made them infamous.

Months ago, someone told me that they found a substantial section on anime in a guide to teaching autistic children. Of all places, I wondered, why there? As it turns out, many autistic children like anime because the facial expressions and gestures are easy to understand. For people with autism, who normally have immense trouble reading the emotions of others, anime characters are a way for them to participate in a social arena that the rest of us hardly think about.

Then again, for Japanese otaku, we can’t assume they take the social graces for granted. In my short time here, I’ve noticed that Japanese culture places a high value on sensitivity and implicit communication. To outsiders it might seem nigh-telepathic, but I would say that people in Japan are simply expected to read the air. Of course, part of what makes that work is enforced homogeneity; as their saying goes, “the nail that sticks up gets hammered down.” If your interests diverge as radically from the norm as they do for the Akiba-kei, it poses a real problem. The truly hardcore among them, the NEETs and hikikomori, are effectively banished from the human network.

Now I’m going to throw in some comics theory, courtesy of Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics: The decision to cartoon, that is, to create abstract human figures as in anime and manga, is an artistic choice with real consequences. We automatically recognize more realistic faces as the faces of “other” people, because all the details add up to an image that isn’t “me, as I recognize myself.” But by abstracting a face to its most essential lines, it actually gets closer to our personal self-image, which creates instant sympathy.

So, assuming otaku really are socially stunted on a massive scale, and assuming they’re the ones who are buying DVDs and oiling the gears of the anime industry, is it any wonder that today’s designs are ruled by faces which are simultaneously softer and easier to comprehend, in which emotional cues are as easy as blushes and peanut-shaped mouths? What we see in the KyoAni moeblob is a visual replacement for the human network, made by the people who are denied access.

Well, it’s just an idea.

I will suggest not diverging too far from the ideas presented in this post and exhausting yourself, because you can bet I have a more substantial post (posts, even!) about the moeru waiting in the pipeline.

[Davidizer13]

Months ago, someone told me that they found a substantial section on anime in a guide to teaching autistic children. Of all places, I wondered, why there? As it turns out, many autistic children like anime because the facial expressions and gestures are easy to understand. For people with autism, who normally have immense trouble reading the emotions of others, anime characters are a way for them to participate in a social arena that the rest of us hardly think about.

I've heard that Thomas the Tank Engine has a similar effect on children with autism: the camera focuses on the trains' faces as a voiceover narrates and explains things like "Thomas was very cross," helping make an association between the emotion and the expressions being shown.

Also, Scott McCloud is one of my favorite writers. In Making Comics, he expounds a bit more about seeing ourselves or others through faces in drawings and photographs, and how we look for faces and make up stories about them. He touches on how we find familiarity in things that are close to human (such as drawings of people in comic books) or possess the bilateral symmetry that shouts "life!" to us, and unnerving when we see faces or symmetry in things that are not so human (McCloud uses a picture of a fly), touching on the concept of the uncanny valley.

However, by adding details about these drawings' lives, about their struggles, their personalities and backgrounds, this connection between the drawings and us becomes stronger, because we're programmed to look for faces and the stories behind them, because that's how we make friends and build relationships. If you were isolated from other people, like a hikikomori, then you would need another outlet for this need for connection. Hence, they're drawn to characters with expressive faces and personalities such that viewers can't help but make connections with them.

Also, a set of drawings can't reject them the way a real person might; this might be overly simplistic, but I believe that the otaku subculture is made of the rejects of society, the ones who couldn't fit in, so they reject the culture right back; they disconnect from it by forming their own society. Something like that.

[blkmage]

---

Alright, this thing clearly didn't garner enough interest, but a post caught my eye and I figured that it should be of interest. It is about the conundrum that licensors have, that fans (both here and in GLORIOUS NIPPON) are far more likely to spend their monies on goods rather than anime itself. The Basis for Purchase of Plastic, Or the Problem with Content on a Disc:

SDS’s post will be primer material for what I’m about to talk about.

Having seen Inception just this weekend, let’s just start with a cliche from the film: an idea is infectious. However an idea is like an virus without a host if it isn’t heard, if it doesn’t take root in a mind. But what is a virus like when it isn’t inside a host, doing its thing? What is an idea like when it isn’t being acted on? When it isn’t being processed by the intelligence of man or spread like viral marketing?

It’s probably in the form of a silicate polymer, a piece of plastic, or in its time-honored tradition of dead trees and grooves on stones.

But as much as words, sounds, images, and the like can be stored in physical media, they are still just representations of ideas. In OSI terms (for example), it’s kind of like the transport layer versus the application layer. Before an idea gets into your head, it has to get through the previous six layers of communication hurdles. In other words, while seeing may be believing, an idea has a long way from being even visible.

So let’s talk about merchandising. Publishing anime on DVD is an arduous task. Besides the packaging, all DVDs are alike physically. While it is the transport medium of what makes anime fandom, well, anime fandom, it is as cut and dry as a script in the hand of the scenario writer. Until it get storyboarded, drawn, filmed, edited, and with the audio track added, it’s nothing like the finished product. This is hard work. Like a certain sketch comedy anime said, it’s not something you do by yourself.

But the idea in that scenario script, once became “anime” and then consequently consumed, it becomes, if one may borrow an analogy, a mustard tree. Such is the substance of faith, as in other words, the belief in a vision. Or in this instance, the inception of an idea.

Those who believe (ie., fans) will no longer be driven by what’s written in a book or on a DVD, but by the ideas that are now thriving within their minds. They may seek out those writing, on paper, plastic or what have you, but the changed man, woman or child will now have a directive that is coherent with the ideas growing inside of them. As such, the ideas they consume next will reflect the ideas inside of them.

Logically, does this mean only non-fans buy DVDs? If you already got your mustard tree, why do you need more mustard seeds? My yard is only yea big. But this is not exactly the case.

Put it in other words, let’s say you have become a fan of a show because you’ve seen it and fell in love with it. You might want to get a copy just so you can re-experience it over again. You might want to get a copy just so to spread your love for the show to the people around you. You might want a copy for archival, reference purposes. You might want to get a copy to support the people who has made the inception of that idea, in you, possible.

That’s all well and good. But SDS brings up another point implicitly–every one of those points that I raised in the prior paragraph is meta. In fact, if you really like, say, My Neighbor Totoro, as an idea, you are not necessarily any more likely to do any of the above. Why do I say this?

Because we don’t sell DVDs to kids. We sell them toys. Parents might buy DVDs to placate them, but that is a meta function that grown-ups have learned over the years. This is a big reason why majority of entertainment media is aimed to create an experience first than to disseminate ideas. Edutainment, right? Fables are rarely fun to read.

However, we do sell toys to kids, because they relive the ideas in their mind differently. It is a function of, dare I say, imagination. In fact it is this reason why fans create fan works. This is the reason why fans become creators. Imagination is something of a mystery; some people have more than others, some say an external force operates with it, I don’t know. But unless the idea has germinated in your mind, your imagination is going to do squat with it. (In fact, you probably won’t even remember the idea.) This is why fans buy fan…things. Like a Fender American Vintage ’62 Jazz bass guitar, or a MG Qubeley MK-II. Even if it is an alternate way to “relive” some kind of experience, because you are doing it in your own world, on your own terms, within the directive of the idea inside of you, it is not exactly a meta function. You are engaging the work, the actual intellectual property, the idea, directly.

As to how those directives work, I don’t dare to guess. Ask SDS maybe.

TL;DR (1): Fans engage with the IP in direct, non-meta ways. DVDs are meta products.

The question that I want an answer to: so who buys DVDs? Obviously, a large part of the anime industry thrives on the meta of fandom. The city of Baltimore pulls in millions of dollars in tourism revenue thanks to Otakon every summer. Otakon exists because there is all this anime-related fandom. I believe DVDs serve in a similar manner as the city of Baltimore, for the purposes of fans. After all you gotta have it to talk the talk, to walk the walk. You can’t party until you are there. I think. Fans know to obey all the unspoken rules.

[Tangent: new media (the semi-legal, technical, business term) challenges some of these unspoken rules, which is why there's all this debate about copyright and all that jazz. I'm just plugging in another spoke in this framework.]

Here’s the unspoken rule question that started me on this post: why do adults collect Toy Story DVDs and children collect Toy Story toys? Shouldn’t we all be collecting Toy Story toys and nobody should be collecting the movie on BD/DVD? I mean, they are already toys! And the toys are infinitely more meaningful than some shelf-gracing plastic pieces. Heck, you can see them with your eyes! And if not (as it is the case in reality), why not?

I am probably biased in saying this, but the logical next thing I would have to discuss are so-called non-fans. They are the people who watch an anime and move on to the next thing. They are mostly defined as consumers. Perhaps I’m going to hit a snag in terms of defining who are fans and who are not, it might be better in the context of this discussion to say fans are those who are now infected with the IP, the idea. This way I can sweep all that semantics under the rug. I am not even sure if being a fan or not matters, or if it is the right word.

What I am trying to get at is that non-fans are those who the idea is transmitted to, but no application occurs. Fans, on the other hand, will divert their time, energy and resources to follow the directive as fans. If both are equal consumers, who consumes new media/IP better? Probably the non-fans if we assume both are equally entertained. Presumably the fan would divert resources to old, existing IP.

TL;DR (2): To sell DVDs, you need to engage and create consumers, not necessarily fans.

To wrap up, well, we know it is very hard work to make anime and then to sell it on discs (or even as a digital streaming or download product). We know consumers consume, fans do fan stuff, and only some fans are consumers. It’s also likely that pure consumers consume more than fans. I guess you could say some are fans of consumption, which is kind of a meta thing. Like selling gotta-catch-them-all collector edition crap to people who have that meta thing going on. But that’s meta. It only works on people who are old enough to be affected with those other sorts of ideas. Kids, not as much.

In the grand scope of things, the purpose of derivative copyright protects the business model of making money on fans. When your typical Japanese anime production committee breaks down their licenses, the infectiousness of the idea and the nature of the directives associated with that idea will play a huge role in terms of who will make more money. I can’t begin to imagine how complex this plays out in a franchise not protected by copyright (eg., idol groups). I guess that’s why those tend not to be a by-the-committee thing unlike late-night anime.

It also makes sense why it is extremely within the interests of the media industry to reinforce, modify or add “unspoken” rules type things. Because in the end it is those things that sell DVDs and CDs, that make us into fan-consumers, if we are not much of a consumer to begin with. Social engineering is better than DRM any day.

Fans of disposable entertainment has it rough. Yet we keep on perpetrating this lifestyle, at least in America. Maybe it’s just too much fun to give up.

Some homework questions:

• For R1 licensees, does it make sense to sell “anime”? Does it make sense to sell, say, “Hoshizora Kiseki” or “Maison Ikkoku”? It’s a branding distinction, but also a matter of business method. Mostly think about what Funimation and Sentai is up to, and think about what Geneon, Aniplex and some of the newcomers are up to.
• Why is it that we collect DVDs? What are the unspoken (or spoken but not really unspoken) rules about our fandom? In other words, what makes one piece of plastic superior than the other piece of plastic?
• Why is your favorite anime your favorite anime? Does it have anything to do with your imagination? What’s the last imaginative thing you’ve done in regards to a specific anime/manga/etc title?
• What are some ethical and positive “directives” that should be encouraged along with consuming anime? (Like, watch TV in a well-lit place not too close to the TV. Just kidding).