Casshern Sins: Anime Review

Title: Casshern Sins (Kyashān Sins)

Author: Yasuko Kobayashi

Director: Shigeyasu Yamauchi

Year: 2008

Upon starting Casshern Sins I was no stranger to the Casshern franchise, having seen both the live action adaptation Casshern (amazing) and the OVA Casshan: Robot Hunter (seizures). Casshern Sins is described as a remake of the original 1973 series Neo-Human Casshern, but from what I have discovered of that series, it is more of a re-imagining than a straight remake, differing in style, themes, premise and plot. The series essentially seems to be saying: forget that story, this one's better.

Set in a world which would fall squarely in the post-apocalyptic category, the story follows an amnesiac Casshern as he wanders aimlessly around the planet encountering characters who are more than eager to fill him in on his past deeds.

Amnesia can be a useful storytelling device when used correctly, and it is certainly used well in the early stages of this series. By having a character who has no knowledge or understanding of the world around them, supporting characters can explain the situation without this exposition feeling forced or contrived, therefore letting the audience in without being overly simplistic or patronising. This is especially useful in Casshern Sins, as the world is unrecognisable from our own; a huge open expanse of sand and detritus where a mass of desperate, struggling robots suffer from The Ruin, which in my understanding, seems to warrant the capitals.

It becomes apparent that before The Ruin, the humans and robots of the world, mostly robots, enjoyed eternal life, thanks to an individual named Luna, who is more ostentatiously known as The Sun That Is Called Moon, presumably for her life giving abilities. Early on, Casshern is confronted by individuals who claim that he killed Luna, and is thus responsible for the returned mortality of the robots. Though The Ruin manifests itself in a rust-based wasting disease rather than mortality as we would understand it. Their hatred for him is further set in concrete as he has become immortal and near enough invulnerable thanks to this 'sin'.

The ruin (horobi) is really hammered home in the first half of the series, which is essentially a long sequence of tangential episodes, linked tenuously by the appearance of Casshern and several other recurring characters, though the vast majority of prime characters in these tangential episodes never appear again. The pace of Casshern Sins is incredibly measured, which is a welcome departure from the hasty fervor of other series, though in these seemingly-unrelated episodes it can sometimes feel that the series is playing for time, rather than simply taking its time. Each one of these episodes certainly has a point to make, but it never seems to overly affect any of the main characters and it isn't the catalyst for any developemnt, which can make the series feel disjointed. There is also a tendency for characters to get into trouble only for Casshern to simply appear out of nowhere at the last second and save them. This is the worst kind of thoughtless and cliched deus ex machina, especially when used unjudiciously. Despite this however, the series does eventually find its feet spectacularly, and a consistent and gripping narrative does form.

One technique used to knit the series together is the sequence which occurs just before the opening titles, which is a broken sequence revealing tiny segments of the scene where Casshern kills Luna. These pieces beautifully illustrate Casshern regaining his memory and/or coming to terms with his actions, and also help to focus the series even during tangents.

Even through the opening episodes, however, there is a unique style and an overhauled design which could easily keep viewers enthralled. Rather than the fairly common design that was present in Casshan: Robot Hunter, or the grittiness that was present in the film adaptation, Casshern Sins errs on the side of the abstract and the surreal, though darkness is still heavily prevalent, as in the film, but Ruin is the order of the day after all. Despite this darkness however, the design of Casshern's suit is more cartoony than ever before, which is an outstandingly effective contrast to the destruction and ruin around him, as he stands in his skintight shocking-white costume, further emphasising his immortality/invulnerability in a world that is broken.

Though the design may have altered, it is still recognisable from its earlier incarnations, with the ludicrous helmet and the booster-jets on his hips still in place. The fighting style also remains constant, with overblown acrobatics and speed-of-light movements looking more like a dance of death than a battle. It is perhaps necessary to choreograph the battles in this way, as few characters in the series are anywhere near a match for Casshern, and he spends a vast amount of time pirouetting through swathes of robots to the accompaniment of subsequent explosions. Which is no bad thing. Anyone seeking nostalgia through the classic Casshern attacks such as the karate chop which splits an enemy cleanly down the middle, the tearing off of heads and also the impaling of enemies with his arm, will be more than satisfied. Although thankfully Casshern is no longer able to shoot a beam out of his helmet. There are limits to suspension of disbelief.

The soundtrack comprises of a set of masterful tracks by Kaoru Wada, and there isn't a moment I can recall where the soundtrack missed a step. There are a set of tracks which form the spine of the series, with other pieces used perfectly at opportune moments, such as to signal a change of mood or to support a point being made. The huge range of the soundtrack, from old school booming orchestral tracks to haunting wind-based pieces to a tastefully used vocal ballad, really flesh out the series, where every choice and placement of track is inspired, the music never becomes arbitrary. Disappointingly, for me at least, there is no place in the show for either version of the original theme Tatakae! Casshern, though given its epic-cheese nature it isn't really in the correct tone for the new-and-improved serious style. Luckily I can have them on repeat of my own free will. Isao Sasaki is my hero.

It is strange that in a series where the vast majority of characters are robots, its main focus of debate seems to be life and death, specifically the point of life, or what it means to be alive. Though perhaps by removing this debate from the realms of humanity as we understand it, and also setting up immortality as possible, the series is able to make more pointed observations on the nature of 'being alive'. A light-hearted fighty shounen romp this is not, and while the battle sequences are spectacular in and of themselves, I wouldn't suggest watching Casshern Sins purely on those grounds. The series aims to distance itself from thoughtless beat-em-ups, and though at times its arguments and conclusions can seem vague and muddled, I feel it succeeds in being an unusually human document on the aims of life.

If you seek mindless violence I would advise you to look elsewhere. However, if you want fuel for the robots in your brain, an incredibly sleek and stylish fuel in fact, I'd certainly recommend Casshern Sins. Bear in mind, however, that patience is a virtue.

Beck: Mongolian Chop Squad: Anime Review

Title: Beck: Mongolian Chop Squad
Genre: Shonen
Studio: Madhouse
Episodes: 26
Released: October '04 – March '05



Tanaka Yukio, sometimes called “Koyuki” by his friends, doesn't really have a passion for anything in life. He gets through the days as normal as any other middle school pupil along with his two childhood friends Tanabe (the pervert) and Ishiguro Izumi (that hot one from every Anime ever). After saving a weird-looking dog (called Beck) from some kids he meets its owner Minami Ryūsuke, a talented rock musician. Ryūsuke soon convinces Koyuki to learn the guitar (giving him a favoured guitar from his own collection) and the rest is there to be found out by you.

It's not often that a series revolving around music crops up in my watch list, but Beck is one hell of an exception. Rather than focusing on the entire band itself it tends to point the camera at Koyuki, who is undoubtedly the main character, even with all the other members of the band. Coming in second in that regard is Ryūsuke, whose times in the spotlight, while few and far between in comparison with Koyuki, are pretty important. The rest of the band serve their own purposes in regards to their interaction with Koyuki (apart from the bassist, he just seems to smile and nod from the sidelines). Their drummer is a good friend of his in school and is a constant source of good company, and the vocalist is pretty much his human shield by the time he gets to high school.
The plot is pretty straightforward apart from Ryūsuke's confusing little side-story in New York and a topic never outstays its welcome; if an obstruction turns up it's resolved relatively quickly again. Well...for the band it does. Anything regarding Koyuki is dragged out to span most of the series and some of it can get annoying. While he is slowly merging with the music scene it's good to see that he's just another average guy who's trying hard to pursue what he likes. He's not an immediate super celebrity in the entertainment industry and at the same time he's not some genius who's magically able to keep up with school on top of his music. He's bullied for quite a while through middle school and it's not surprising when it starts up again (although for a far shorter period) in high school.
He is counterbalanced, however, by one of the love interests Minami Maho, a crazy girl with no qualms over breaking people's windows and spending the night in Koyuki's house. Considering she's a love interest the series still goes along with the classic annoyance of her and the main character giving each other mixed signals. She often turns up with her friends, all of whom are a-grade cunts, and one of them (you'll god damn know when you see him...he's an idol) is the twattiest of all cunts around the globe, earning him the title of King Twunt (did ya see what I did there? Didja?). Now it's all too easy to see how Koyuki's self confidence might plummet somewhat when the girl he likes turns up with a popular super idol as a casual acquaintance, but he hardly does himself any favours when doing easily misinterpreted things with other girls, although to be honest it's not really his fault, he just needs to recognise when he needs to explain himself and apologise.
The art is pretty good, although it doesn't really jump out at you, and there's some brilliant examples of copyright dodging to be found dotted around the place.
Apart from the musical aspect of the series there isn't much originality to Beck, but don't turn it away from the light. There's a reason things are overused, it's just that they've been used so much it's predictable. While Beck is still relatively predictable, it has little quirks and twists that make the entire experience enjoyable and fun to witness (like Koyuki's teacher's pet bird, “Page”).
No matter who you are or what you like, chances are you won't regret watching this series.

Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei: Anime Review

Title: Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei
Author: Koji Kumeta
Studio: Shaft
Released: July 7, 2007

Genre: Satire

The Plot

Itoshiki Nozomu is a pessimist of epic proportions whose very name even spells out ‘Zetsubou Sensei’ (Mr Despair) when written a certain way. He immediately eases us into this show by attempting to hang himself and is immediately rescued though by a strangely optimistic girl who insists that he was merely trying to make himself taller. She then launches into a rambling monologue informing Itoshiki and the viewer that her parents may well have been trying to get ‘taller’ as well, among other things.

After fleeing this terrifyingly happy young lady Itoshiki proceeds to go to the local high school to take up his new role as teacher, only to be immediately greeted by his saviour, and she’s just an appetiser compared to the rest of his class.

What's Good

Right from the get go Zetsubou-sensei seeks to poke fun at anything and everything it can and construct the most surreal scenes possible at the same time. Each show addresses another of Itoshiki’s dramatic problems with the world, and results in a long, rambling lecture to his students (who are just as strange, if not more so than Itoshiki himself) usually explaining why he is “in despair”. The entertaining thing about Zetsubou-sensei is that the characters seem to be intentionally as strange as possible and while this may seem like something that can damage a show's attempt at being funny, it works. Each of the increasingly strange students Itoshiki has to teach are amusing and interesting in their own way with their dramatic personality traits and hobbies. The opening and ending songs are, in this reviewer’s opinion, fantastic; the opening is a nice little rock number (performed by the wondrous Kenji Ohstuki) and the numerous endings are all such strange numbers that are pleasing to the ears. As is typical with Shaft the artwork is incredible and unique in that strange way that only they seem to be able to manage.

What's bad

As I have mentioned in a previous review (Bakemonogatari) the studio behind Zetsubou Sensei absolutely love sticking in as much background text and flashing images as they can manage without melting people’s eyes and this show is no different. If you’re the type to get annoyed by this then you might not be fussed with Zetsubou Sensei. If you’re looking for a series with a meaningful end or even a coherent plot from episode to episode then Zetsubou Sensei definitely isn’t for you; each episode is split in two parts and they rarely connect with each other, or even other episodes and the only common theme between them is Itoshiki’s depressed rambling and his students' differing opinions.

Conclusion

Zetsubou-sensei is a series that absolutely loves to laugh at the faults of Japanese society and loves to be as ridiculous and surreal as possible. It is worth checking out purely thanks to that but even more so because it does all these things well without hamming it up by over exaggerating these points. If you prefer a coherent story or even a show that has some semblance of sense then you’ll hate Zetsubou Sensei, but if you like seeing satire and surrealism done well then look no further.

Black Jack: Film Review

Title: Black Jack

Original Idea: Osamu Tezuka
Director: Osamu Dezaki
Year: 1996

Black Jack is a long-awaited revisit for me, as I caught the film years ago on glorious VHS, after forcing my father to tape it from Sci-Fi. The channel used to be a bastion of good anime, though I’m not sure whether it still airs anime late at night, or whether the airing of late night anime has withered with the passage of time.

The first time round I found that I had a rocky relationship with Black Jack, it contained things that fit awkwardly with my teenage desires, i.e. too much dialogue and a notable lack of nudity, but luckily now I am, at least attempting to look, dignified and cultured and these things are no longer held against it.

The film opens with clips of Olympic athletes breaking world records, specifically a 15 year old Polish girl breaking both male and female 100m sprint records, and a past-his-prime American breaking the pole vault record. We are treated to visuals that will delight ardent fans of thermal imaging, as thermal imaging is recreated to emphasize just how hard these athletes are working. A whole host of records being broken sparks suggestions that this is the next stage of human evolution, and the athletes are labelled superhumans, and though the Japanese phrase is "cho-jin", the ‘evolution’ is far from the sense used in Urotsukidoji. Thank Cruijff.

It transpires that these changes may not be quite the ‘evolution’ that the media had been promoting, as a number of the ‘superhumans’ begin suffering from strange systems.

Enter Black Jack. When newly-developing, mysterious illnesses are the game, then the two-tone-haired maverick-genius freelance doctor is the only player worth calling. Aided by his borderline-annoying child-assistant Pinoko, Black Jack is shanghaied into the case by suspicious femme fatale Jo Carol, whose motives are ambiguous.

Even since 1996 the anime has aged strangely, and though the ‘superhuman’ times they give for the world records haven’t been surpassed in reality, some of the technology is humorously outdated. *Warning: it is now necessary to turn your innuendo-aids off* At one point Black Jack is passed a floppy disc (though it is possible that it is a mini-disc), which he inserts into a computer and watches a video from I’m not certain whether the Japanese were using super-powered floppy discs in 1996, or whether SPFD is actually the name of a band I would listen to, but the floppies I remember were incapable of holding a picture, let alone a video file. Of course today the device would be a USB stick or a Blu-ray, and in another 13 years these would look equally as technologically redundant. In the future they will plug aerials into computers that link wirelessly to your brain and transmit .esp video files directly into your imagination. That is my prediction at least.

The voice acting is particularly tasteful, where even the saccharine trilling of Pinoko is apt and adds to proceedings, rather than unduly detracting from the seriousness of situations. Pinoko is utilised well as she humanises Black Jack (do I call him Jack, Jackie, BJ?) who is often clinical and cold, and without her presence may come across as an overly heartless and compassionless fellow. Our main man, The Poppa BJ, is voiced magnificently, with one particular explosion of “kotowaru!” (I refuse!) being a genuinely impressive breath-catching boom.

There was one amusing mistranslation in the visuals of Black Jack, in a scene where a giant Olympic banner is being held by the crowd at the event. In reality, the 1996 Olympics were held in Atlanta, though according to the makers of Black Jack, it was held in Atlantis. This probably would have made for a more interesting Olympics, certainly more water-based at the very least. I would like to imagine that the mistranslation was purposeful, an example of the sneaky humour of one of the artists who worked on the film.

There is a sharp shock curve in Black Jack, which is for the large part encouraging the viewer to think and is driven by dialogue, but occasionally abrupt viciousness with explode into proceedings. One example of this from early on in the film is where a furtive discussion regarding patients is interrupted by a physically and mentally unstable sprinter literally sprinting headfirst into a wall, with a very bloody and final outcome.

The film revolves wholly around medical practises, specifically medial ethics, with Black Jack staunchly treating patients with utmost care and single-mindedly dedicating himself to saving them, where others have a far more distanced and dangerous relationship with the lives of their patients. Despite this, the topic isn’t explicitly discussed in any real depth, and the clear goodie/baddie divide that exists in parts of the film is repeatedly blurred, which ensures that the film doesn’t become preaching propaganda. The film is, in my opinion rightly, warning of the dangers of playing silly buggers with your patients, although it is able to portray the human and nuanced side of issues.

An amount of medical jargon exists in the film, though considering the main characters are all doctors this is to be expected. The jargon isn’t rampant, however, and I feel there is a healthy balance, where enough terminology is being bandied to create a credible medical atmosphere, without excluding any who are plebs in the way of medicine. A plebe such as I.

There are more moustaches than are usually present in anime. I was pleased.

On occasion there is a particularly unsettling sequence where Black Jack is involved in self-diagnosis, which takes the form of a monologue. The monologue is particularly cold and scientific, as he is working through his symptoms, which transforms it into a chilling and haunting soliloquy.

The film holds up much better now that I am not a presumptuous young oik looking for nudity and violence.

Kimi Ni Todoke: Manga Review

Title: Kimi Ni Todoke
Author: Karuho Shiina
Volumes: 9 (Ongoing)
Released: 25th May 2006
Genre: Romantic Comedy





















The Plot

The story of Kimi no Todoke centres around the socially awkward Kuronuma Sawako, a socially awkward girl whose resemblance to the horror character Sadako causes her classmates to fear her and believe she can perform various supernatural feats such as cursing people. Enter Shota Kazehaya a boy whose open and kind nature is the target of Sawako's admiration and she is even more shocked when he talks to her regularly, soon enough Kazehaya's kind nature and encouragement helps Sawako to gather her courage and start to open up to her classmates.


What's Good

Although Kazehaya encourages Sawako to try harder to make herself understood to her classmates he never asks her to be anything other than herself an interesting change to other romance stories where they seek to eliminate defect's but this fact is never over emphasised and its nice to see that it makes no difference either way when it comes to this manga. The fear caused by Sawako is often played for laughs and is sometimes genuinely funny when compared to some comedy in manga and anime which isn't quite as amusing as portrayed in some cases.

What's bad

The typical 'will they wont they' cliché between Sawako and Kazehaya can be seen as a bit tiresome for people who don't enjoy that sort of thing, especially since both characters quite obviously like each other but seem unaware of it. The manga's idealistic attitude may also be a point of scorn for some people, as most characters are nice enough in they're own way (apart from a few exceptions) meaning that this manga can be a bit idealistic.

Conclusion

Kimi ni Todoke is a sweet manga with an entertaining story and interesting characters, although it doesn't stand out compared to other series but it is certainly a good series in its own way and is well worth a look.

Like the Clouds, Like the Wind: Film Review

Title: Like the Clouds, Like the Wind (Kumo no you ni, Kaze no you ni)
Director: Hisayuki Toriumi
Writer: Kenichi Sakemi (Novella) Akira Miyazaki (Screenplay)
Year: 1990


It is claimed that people often mistakenly believe Like the Clouds, Like the Wind to be a Ghibli offering, since its character design was undertaken by Katsuya Kondo, who worked on Kiki’s Delivery Service and Ocean Waves (although more excitingly for me personally, he worked on the criminally underrated PS1 game Jade Cocoon), and the feel of the film, if not the story, seems to be cut from the Ghibli cloth.

The story is based in ancient China, though my knowledge of ancient Chinese history is sparse so I cannot comment whether the premise has any historical accuracy or whether it is entirely fantastical. The tale opens with the death of the current Emperor, and the subsequent crowning/throning of a new Emperor hails an Empire-wide search for concubines suitable to become the new Empress. The search throws up Ginga, a country girl who is inappropriately uncultured in the ways of the aristocracy. She is energetic, brash and comparatively boorish when seen alongside the contained and stringent respect-based understated dignity of the aristocracy. From the outset she is set up as the most unlikely person in the world to be become the new Empress, though I would argue it is purposefully clear from the outset that she is so wrong, she is right.

Ginga decides to put herself forward as a candidate after being told that the Emperor’s wife would enjoy the luxurious lifestyle of “three meals a day and time to nap”. Sometimes I shudder at the things I take for granted, when in ancient, possibly fantastical, times, people would have to marry an Emperor in order to enjoy the lifestyle I enjoy.

As the story unfolds, it veers back and forth from being an adventure story, to being a tale of romance, eventually incorporating a plot where a wholesale rebellion erupts. Rather than offering the story depth and nuance, I feel this eclectic approach makes the piece slightly too busy, where characters are introduced without enough time to explore them or even to allow them any real actions, making them feel like cameos, which I presume only has much impact for people who are familiar with the novella that the film is based upon. For instance, Ginga, upon reaching the Inner Palace, is made to share a room with 3 other potential-Empresses, and after a scene where we are introduced, including names and backgrounds, two of the characters have very little bearing on the actual story.

Though the animation draws comparison to, it doesn’t quite have the glistening style of a Studio Ghibli production, which isn’t to damn the film as Ghibli’s offerings are sensational.

I was slightly unsure whilst watching the film what sort of audience it was originally aimed at, for the background music; chirpy upbeat woodwind for the most part, and various characters’ reaction to punchlines; falling over and yelling, seemed to suggest that this was a kids film. However, there are some examples of explicitly vicious violence hidden in there, such as when the main character bricks an assassin in the face, or when a horse rider takes an arrow to the throat, or when a main character is impaled by spears. Multiple spears. Impaled. Violence in offerings meant for the Japanese kiddie market is hardly surprising, as they, the Japanese filmmakers, seem to take a far more laissez faire attitude, where there are moments of genuine hair-raising violence in, to return to previous comparisons, the works of Ghibli. It seems that while Western kids' films will allow some ‘mild peril’, the Japanese are happy enough to include ‘explicit impaling’. Not that I was overly bothered by this, just a bit shocked, as the film flits back and forth between overt violence and cartoony invincibility, where soldiers survive and stumble around covered in soot after a huge cannon is fired directly into the tunnel where they are charging.

There is also a suicide in the film, which is perhaps due to suicide being treated far differently in the Far East, especially in a historical context. Despite not being able to make up its mind between harsh violence and sweet silliness, the film does occasionally display a genuine deft suggestive touch, where adults will understand what is being hinted at, but, arguably, inappropriate topics will sail over the heads of children.

The film ends with an anticlimactic narrated outro, which is seemingly jammed in to make up for the lack of any genuine closure, and tries its hand at symbolism, where crows are nesting in the ruins of the citadel, and rearing their young, emphasising that new life can come from destruction. Aww, lovely.

All in all, the film won’t blow your mind, but it is quite nice. Damned by faint praise, sorry Kumo Kaze.

Mushishi: Film Review

Title: Mushishi

Director: Katsuhiro Otomo

Author: Yuki Urushibara (comic) Sadayuki Murai (screenplay)

Year: 2006

There is a penchant in Japanese media (anime/manga/film particularly) to hang onto a successful story and milk it for absolutely every last drop of sustenance, and then continue sucking. A prime example of this would be the novel Battle Royale, which was then adapted for manga, then made into a film, which also spawned a sequel. The problem with this process is, often, aspects of the piece will go missing, stories will change and the artistic vision of the original piece will often be altered or watered down.

Mushishi began its life as a manga, which I have not read, but according to Wikipedia:

“The Mushishi manga won an Excellence Prize at the 2003 Japan Media Arts Festival and the 2006 Kodansha Manga Award.”

So its original incarnation won critical acclaim. I first encountered Mushishi in its anime form, and was blown away by its engrossing measured pace and, to my trusting young eyes at least, unique style. For reasons I cannot remember, I never got more than a few episodes into Mushishi, though its standout opening track (The Sore Feet Song – Ally Kerr) and unnerving brand of unusual visceral horror branded itself into my brain.

The series wasn’t linked, as far as I had seen, by any more than its main character, silver-haired Ginko, the titular mushishi (bug master), as he travelled around ancient Japan curing those suffering from mushi-related plague like a ancient-Japanese silver-haired Jesus. Each episode followed a standalone plot, and I was interested to discover how these unlinked tales would be strung together over the length of an entire film.

Answer: they aren’t. Apart from one introductory tale, which I recognised from what little I’d viewed from the series beforehand, which is used to contextualise and introduce the role of the mushishi to the audience, the mini-stories are dropped, focusing more on the past of Ginko, following that ark as it comes full circle to the story’s present time. The lack of the unattached stories in the film is dramatically a good thing, as the plot would likely seem fractured and stuttered without the presence of the narrative ark. Having the past of Ginko explored also enables the audience to care more about the character, where if Ginko was merely a device in order to explore a number of mini-stories, he would seem hollow and 2D. The downside of not being able to include many of the side-plots is that people who are already fans of Mushishi will inevitably pine the lack of their personal favourite tale. This was certainly the case with me, despite having seen few episodes. The defining moment of my relationship with Mushishi in its anime incarnation was a scene where a character blinded by mushi that live in eyes, stood in complete darkness with a river of undulating silver unguent gushing skyward from his/her eyeballs. Moments such as that are few and far between, said the silly young man, wiping a tear from his eye.

Having spent an unjustifiably long time pontificating on what is not in the film, its probably time to tell you what is, for there is plenty there to be pleased with.

The film opens with slow, atmospheric shots of foggy mountainous woodland, distant prolonged shots where the ominous and mysterious nature of a non-industrialised natural world is fully accentuated. The subtitles appear to inform us this is turn of the century Japan, although which century is either not made clear, or I was too engrossed in the misty forestscape to notice. Suffice to say, this is the pseudo-surreal landscape of the none-too-recent past, with characters clad in tabi and sandals, conical straw hats etc. I found the style utterly true to the anime adaptation, which is a fantastically good thing indeed, the world created by Mushishi is utterly engrossing despite the fantastical nature of the tales. It is certainly the style that is most notable of the series, with the eeriness of the landscapes together with the aged, graininess of the footage and the deliberate slow pace of the storytelling transporting you into the story with ease.

The fantastical nature of the stories, centring as they do around ephemeral magic bugs (mushi), means that at times the story may be difficult to follow, especially since there is no time in the film for the sort of explicit explanations that occur in the series, but I would argue that this is a good thing, as the mystery of not knowing the exact nature of the creature adds to the overall ambience of the piece, as it thrives on oddness.

Despite omitting many mini-stories, the film still goes on for a fair old length, which may seem a hollow gripe, but since it is my only real complaint, I will have to follow through with it. Now I am a fan of lengthy works, although sometimes an abundance of material is simply evidence that the writers were utilising a ‘throwing-shit-against-the-wall’ technique, and this certainly isn’t the case with Mushishi, the problem is simply that there is too much good material to comfortably fit in. On the other hand had I known it was going to be something of a monolith before I’d pressed play, I might not have become shifty and agitated in the middle, wondering whether it would come to an end soon.

Sitting there actively wanting a film to end is never a good thing, but it is certainly the length of it, rather than a discrepancy in quality of content that places the ants in my pants on this occasion.

The film is also guilty of being accidentally funny, though again I can’t be sure whether this is simply my highly tuned comedy eye or my rampant de-sensitivity when it comes to the odd, but there were a few incredibly strange scenes that were perhaps meant to be taken seriously, where I couldn’t help but laugh.

Mushishi is a good example of strange and slow creepy horror, the sort which makes you twitch and clench your jaw rather than make you jump, the storyline has been honed to a fine art over its several incarnations, meaning that the film is a fantastic rendition of the story, rather than a heavily watered down version. If you are planning on watching it, however, bed down comfortably, get your snacks and your drinks in at the start, and attach the catheter, it’s gonna be a long one.

Rosario + Vampire: Manga Review

Title: Rosario + Vampire
Author: Ikeda Akihisa
Genre: Supernatural, Action, Romance, Harem
Released: Season 1 - 2004-2007, Season 2 - 2007-Ongoing
Volumes: Season 1 - 10, Season 2 – 4



Aono Tsukune is one of those useless main characters who doesn't really seem to be able to do anything. The Manga starts off with him finding out that he hasn't gotten into a single High School and despairing about said lack of High School.
His parents turn around and tell him he'll be going to Youkai High School, a place they found out about from a pamphlet dropped by a totally not suspicious *cough cough* guy wandering around. With this being the only school to turn to, Tsukune decides to enrol and after a long bus journey with a disturbing driver it's not long before Tsukune discovers the true purpose of the school, which just so happens to be teaching monsters (Ayashi) the traditions and ways of humans, in the hope that one day both worlds could co-exist peacefully.
It also just so happens that the first schoolmate he bumps into, Akashiya Moka, is a vampire who just loves (elongate 'o' for mediocre comedic value) the taste of his blood. Moka is apparently so super-de-duperly powerful that she has to wear a rosary to seal her powers, and when it comes off it's like she's a completely different person.

Yet again we come across a series where regardless of how the author tries to convince you you will never for a second doubt the main character will get with one of the girls (in this case Moka). To be honest it's not like any effort is made to convince you otherwise, but that just makes the lewd passes (which happen annoyingly often) of the other girls unnecessary and waste valuable time that the main characters could spend fighting people. The past sentence isn't a symbol of my love of action, by the way, beating people up with the power of heart is the only thing these characters seem to do. Of course, the main character is a useless shit whose only purpose is to take off Moka's rosary. She then proceeds to pulverise the character while uttering the catchphrase “Know your place”. This wouldn't be anywhere near as annoying if she didn't use it every god damn time she beat someone.
One thing that seriously bugs me if I'm reading action is when the main character is dependent on someone else's power. This is a trait held by the Manga for so long that when he finally ended up less dependent on Moka's power (only less depended, by the way, not actually independent, that comes later -_-) it's like a ray of sunshine shining down the damp, dark well that Rosario+Vampire has shoved you into.
I would say that the Manga gets better as it progresses but to be honest that shouldn't really be regarded highly considering “better” is the only direction it's actually able to go.

Any characters other than the main ones (Moka and Tsukune) seem to be there purely to act as deus ex machina, or as filters so that the main characters don't have to spend a chapter wading through shitty weak enemies. Seriously, they have no place in the main other than as soldiers or informants, and taking away any of their little side-stories would probably increase my liking of the series tenfold.
The main characters themselves, however, I like. While Tsukune is similar to pretty much every action main character in existence, I've always liked the stubborn, hearty attitude that they get while fighting to protect his friends (which only really includes Moka, maybe the others are too busy sucking to be kidnapped or targeted) and his home.
Moka herself comes in two flavours, Strawberry and 99% Belgian Chocolate. Both of her personalities heavily contradict each other, although rather than separate personalities I can't help but view it as a switch to make the sweet Moka look cool and kick arse. The inner Moka (who just so happens to be the original one) isn't really explored that much, making her nothing more than another “Fight Mode” without a substantial face. She is also a huge cock-tease and more often than you would care to enjoy she leans in for what looks like a sweet kiss, only head straight for his neck and start sucking a different kind of juice to what Tsukune wants her to swallow.

The school itself seems to be there only to act as extra stuff to smash to itty bitty little pieces. You don't often see any studying going on and when it is nobody's paying attention. It also closes down for six month for repairs (the result of a fight between the main characters and various arseholes) and somehow all of the students still have the knowledge required to wander along into their next year.

The art is alright, not really making use of all the space it's given but too much can be a clutter and I'd rather space than clutter, to be honest.

The plot itself is as average as they come, with a nice little rival faction aiming to overthrow the human race, appointing Ayashi as the new rulers of the world. I have nothing against this considering it's a tried-and-tested plot that can easily be taken new places (not that the author tries). However it is full of holes, especially regarding Tsukune's fighting power. What you read in the latter part of what's been released for the second season should really be inserted in between the third and fourth quarters of the first one, and the first half of what's been released for the second season should be burned alive and buried underneath a mountain of shit.

If you can get through the curiosity of finding out what this series is really like, save yourself from the noose and run to the hills, because this series isn't really worth the effort.

Mahou Sensei Negima: Manga Review

Title: Mahou Sensei Negima
Author: Ken Akamatsu
Volumes: 27 Volumes
Released: February 26, 2003
Genre: Harem, Action, Comedy, Magical girl
















The Plot

Magician in training Negi Springfield dreams of being a Magister Magi (Latin for 'Master Mage'), one of the highest classes of magicians who travel the globe helping normal people while keeping their magical ability a secret. Negi's main reason for wanting to be a Master Mage is so he can find his father, Nagi Springfield, a legendary magician known as the 'Thousand master' who has been missing since Negi was young and is believed to be dead.

At ten years old Negi Springfield has graduated from the Merdiana magic academy and as per tradition he is expected to take up a pre-assigned job and continue his training. He soon finds out that his duty is to become a teacher at Mahora academy, where he will be teaching a class of 31 middle school girls. Soon enough Negi is enveloped in his students' and school's chaotic lifestyle.


What's Good

Author Ken Akamatsu is famous for his harem Manga Love Hina and it's nice to see him try a new genre although the romantic style comedy elements are still present. Slowly (at first), as the series progresses, the shift to a more action oriented plot is soon established and it is amazing to see how well some of the fight scenes are pulled off. The ever present perverted moments played for laughs due to the main character's young age and a lot of alike moments are more like subversions of the original jokes. Although a few of the characters play up to the typical clichés such as the 'shy girl' Nodoka Miyazaki, the nervous bookworm with a crush on the main character, it doesn't mean that it's tiresome. Rather these walking archetypes are comfortable to see and as with any tried and tested archetype or model they can still surprise you every once in a while.

What's bad

A major problem I feel I must mention is the whole 'creepy' angle the series can give off, with a ten year old pre-pubescent boy running around giving 'proper' kisses to girls to make 'pactio cards' (magical cards that grant the magicians 'partner' special abilities). There is also a point where the main characters get a hold of candy that can give the illusion of the characters being older or younger when consumed, which while tame by itself it does get a bit weird when characters remain in 'loli' form far longer than they actually have to. In one case the girl has, for reasons known only to the author himself, taken the opportunity to dress in frankly downright revealing clothing while in 'loli' form. With all this paedo-bait it can be a bit uncomfortable for even the most desensitised reader. Frequent breaks from the main story to mess about with comedic elements means that the Manga can be slow moving sometimes, and the latest two arcs have been ticking along for such a long time now that it might be seen as annoying by some readers. A more personal gripe for me is the claim that Negi is Welsh; while I always enjoy seeing my country referenced in anything I do wonder if the author actually understands exactly how the whole England and Wales thing works, because at times it can seem like he knows precisely what he's talking about (especially when talking about magical myths and such) and at other times I truly wonder if he actually has a clue what he's talking about (Negi often refers to himself as an 'English gentleman', for example).

Conclusion

If you can get past the slightly creepy nature sometimes seen in some of the chapters then this series is about average. It is a refreshing change from other action Manga with its blend of fighting, more traditional slight romantic elements and comedy, but it's still very mediocre in some ways. Although I personally enjoy the story I wouldn't exactly call it amazing, and although they don't detract from the overall enjoyment of the series the typical archetypes spotted in some characters do nothing to actually add to the story. I would recommend this Manga only if you're in the mood for a blend of magic, fantasy and harem.