AD Police: DVD Review

Title: AD Police Files
Writer: Toshimichi Suzuki
Director(s): Takemasa Ikegami, Hidehito Ueda, Akira Nishimori
Year: 1990

I should like AD Police, but I don’t.  Not that I dislike it, it’s just… not quite right.  Looking, sounding, smelling, feeling right at home amongst other sci-fi anime of my youth, very dark, bleak and gratuitously sexual.

The DVD is a collection of 3 OVAs which, from what I gather, prequels to A.D. Police: Dead End City and Bubblegum Crisis.

The series takes place in Mega Tokyo, which is the same setting as Bubblegum Crisis.  I am not familiar with Bubblegum Crisis, but I gather that it has a narrative focusing on a group of all-female vigilantes, while AD Police is a series of one-off stories connected loosely by the fact they involve the AD Police.  The AD Police are the elite-force that deal with runaway Voomers (also called Boomers), which are essentially female robots which have gone mad for whatever reason.  This manifests itself in grade A crazy shit, generally killing people, causing mayhem, and being sexually provocative.  Mega Tokyo seems to be the classic sci-fi dystopian cyber-metropolis, filled with cyborgs, psychos, bastards and bitches.  The city is absolutely teeming with them, and so is the series.

Therein lies the problem.  There are no likable characters.  There is nothing to grab onto.  The very layout of the series is disconnected, and this just adds to the chaotic, frenetic pace of the stories.  The AD Police themselves are made up of dick-swinging yahoos (male and female), and even the new recruit who is introduced in the first episode quickly falls into step and starts swinging away.  Every woman in the series, excluding one wide-eyed and naïve officer in episode 2, is a bombshell and violent.

The first episode shows an AD Police group trying to take down a rogue voomer.  One officer fires a couple of shots at her, which clearly has no effect.  He declares:

“Bullets won’t stop her!”

And receives the reply:

“We’ll see, take this, bitch!” and then the officer, a beefcake, tries to strangle the robot.  By the end of the scene he is dead.  They are an elite force, you see.  Also, it has nothing to do with the point I was making, but the owner of this first voomer is a very racist representation of Chinese guy, which isn’t allowed.  Sorry, ishant arrawwed.

The first thing you see of the AD Police is their tank roaring down a packed street gratuitously wiping out civilian cars.  This wasn’t played for laughs, nor was it meant as a satire of police brutality, I’m fairly certain you’re meant to empathise and root for the AD Police.  It is quite difficult when their banter includes such witticisms as:

“You okay rookie, you’re not gonna shit yourself?” which could work in the mouth of a particularly gung-ho character, but in the mouth of a dick-swinging yahoo it is just a dick-swingingly yahooish thing to say.

While English-voice acting of anime and games has improved in recent years, the low-budgets of past dubbing has given rise to some poor work, and I would put AD Police into that bracket.  It isn’t so spectacularly bad to make it enjoyable, it is just misjudged.  For instance, by the end of the episode, the rogue voomer is begging for death, which she does by whining “kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiill meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee” in a feeble guff of breath.

The episode also dabbles in grim koolwank, where Gina, the female officer we are meant to care about gets angry and literally rips one of the voomer’s tits off.  Literally, with her hand.  Just reaches on up there and rips it off.  As a wise man once said, sometimes the women are worse than the men.

The second episode opens with a 16 year old female prostitute being killed by a knife-wielding visor-wearing bitch.  This series is dark and grim, by the way, just in case you hadn’t caught on.

It follows a plot which examines what drove the knife-killer to do knife-killings, which is, spoiler, because she’s been slowly trading her guts for robotic guts, and now she doesn’t feel like a woman anymore.  So kill prostitutes, obviously.  It is an interesting premise, but the shortness of the episode means it is rushed, and cheapened.

A police (regular not AD) officer is introduced in this episode, a young, naïve female police officer with a short bob and severe fringe, a cute, bright, cheerful idealist.  I’m not saying the police force isn’t a safe haven for innocent, naïve idealists, I’m not well versed in law-enforcement.  I’m just saying it seems a misfit, especially in Mega Tokyo, where half the city is destroyed on a daily basis by reckless police and psychotic robots.

The naïve police officer trails the crazy knife lady down an underground corridor, splashing through sewage ankle deep, the wide eyed young police woman declares:

"I wonder where I'm going, where will this tunnel lead me?"

and then she gets grabbed and a knife put to her throat.  The last person who said “I wonder where I’m going” was no one, it didn’t happen.  Lies.

When the knife-killer runs away, the policewoman faints.  Because she is a girl.  Her presence in the series is misjudged.

By the end of the episode, the knife killer is begging for death.  See the pattern?

The third episode focuses on an ex-boxer turned AD Police turned dead, who is then turned into an experimental police cyborg with the sole purpose of killing the life out of crazy voomers.  What could possibly go wrong?

At one point in this episode, an officer shows his surprise by declaring “Fuck me!”, which, while unrelated to my review, I enjoyed and thought should be mentioned.

The cyborg experiment goes well initially, Billy, the cyborg’s name, is really good at killings voomers.  The problem is that he can no longer really experience anything.  His nerve endings have been dulled, his skin removed to make way for his exoskeleton.  He is left only with his tongue, which he bites in order to feel anything.  This leads to very striking imagery of a psychotic tongue-lolling cyborg ripping up voomers.  Powerful imagery, points scored.

Unfortunately they lose points by making the professor who developed Billy a Sexy-Ass Professor, which I believe is an important breakthrough area of science that was being developed in the 90s.

Billy becomes stricken with ennui, because he can’t feel, and starts getting drugged up by shooting drugs into his tongue.  The professor tries to engage with him using other methods.  To quote from my notes:

‘The gratuitously sexy-ass professor who made him tries to engage his senses by dressing in kinky lingerie and grinding all over his robot body, pressing her tits into his robot face.’

It ultimately doesn’t work, but I’m imagining that the scene gave a lot of teenagers some very confusing imagery to deal with.  She was wearing kinky stockings and the rest of it underneath her lab coat, which I believe was very prescient, and is now standard uniform in all labs.

Billy eventually loses his shit spectacularly, crushing the professor’s head as she is grinding up on him, which is very bad form indeed.  Gina, the AD Police officer who’s been recycled from episode 1, and apparently knew Billy when he was human, comes to investigate why he is acting so strange now he’s a robot.  Again, from my notes:

‘Gina rushes in to find the sexy professor sitting in Billy's cyborg chair, head crushed and mouth-open The Ring-style, and declares:

"it had to end like this”.’  Which, of course, it didn’t.

She hunts Billy down, and even though he has murdered everyone in sight, she manages to kill him, even though he is a man-shaped tank.  She succeeds because, here’s the pattern, he also wants to die, realising that being a tin-man is no way to live.  He declares:

“Yes Gina, kill me, shoot me in the brain”.

Which is an unintentionally hilarious thing to say.  Because of that third episode we are now all aware of the danger of building an indestructible drug-fueled killing machine.

Unfortunately, I started this review with the conclusion, which is quite bad form, so I will re-iterate as though that was my plan all along.  It is so hard to empathise with any of the characters, they are so heartless and unforgiving, as is the location and the scenarios, it is very difficult to engage with.

The first episode ends with a monologue from the rookie, who describes Mega Tokyo as a “savage, soulless city”, and when that is the case you end up with a largely savage, soulless story.

Kagemusha: Film Review

Title: Kagemusha

Director: Akira Kurosawa & Ishiro Honda

Writer: Akira Kurosawa & Masato Ide

Year: 1980

From the explanatory text which opens Kagemusha, to the lengthy single-shot first scene, the pace of this film is decidedly measured.  For those who equate samurai films with supershiny-superfast coolwank, this one probably isn’t for you.  This film is long, slow and marvellous.

A ‘kagemusha’ is an impersonator, a body-double presented instead of a person of influence and importance, in order to protect them.  The titular kagemusha is a thief with a striking resemblance to Shingen Takeda, the daimyo of Kai Province.  He is discovered and saved from crucifixion by Nobukado, Shingen’s brother and erstwhile occasional kagemusha.  It is decided that the thief is to be trained in the ways of kagemushery, and the film follows the difficulties that arise in making this a reality.

Japanese acting is often a tumultuous beast, with subtle understatement sitting alongside some pretty huge performances.  Kagemusha is no exception, but does avoid the grotesques of gurning and mugging which is in abundant use in Japanese humour, which is often used to brilliant effect, but would be out of place here.  The understated/overstated contrast is key to this film, as Tatsuya Nakadai puts in a masterfully schizophrenic performance as both Shingen Takeda and the Kagemusha.  The differences between the two characters, and the subtle advances of the Kagemusha as he learns his imitative art is the backbone of this film, and it is a truly impressive achievement.  The crux of one scene, which is perhaps the most impactful of the film, rests entirely on the Kagemusha changing his posture and expression, and the huge effects these tiny alterations have on those surrounding him.

 There is a less subtle piece of acting which makes the film for me, personally, but I’ll discuss that fully later.

I’ve referred to the music in the notes I made as ‘Zelda music’, but it is perhaps more notable for how very sparsely it is used.  It is a largely orchestral score, but used tastefully, with little in the way of relentless pomp to drown quieter scenes.  At one juncture, a death scene; piercing, shrill flute squeals accompany the action, creating a discomforting, pained experience.  ‘Zelda music’ flags up that I am perhaps not best suited to fully critique the film’s score.

Some very beautiful and striking imagery is on show throughout the film, with one particular sequence focusing on the setting sun, as a seemingly endless line of soldier march past it in silhouette atop a hill, whilst in the foreground, in shadow, officers discuss the campaign.  Oddly for a film which has pitched battles as it’s backdrop, very little, if any, clear ‘fighting’ is shown.  When the Kagemusha finds himself actually on a battlefield, the fighting is portrayed by shouting and clamouring off-camera, with the shot focusing on the Kagemusha himself and those surrounding him.  His confusion, helplessness and terror, as well as that of his vassals, is in the foreground, with the grotty business of actual conflict taking a backseat to the human drama.  These sequences make for difficult viewing, as portrayal of the Kagemusha’s lack of understanding as the battle rages around him translates into the viewer also not understanding the ebb and flow of the, largely unseen, battle.

A wonderful piece of, very understated, repetition occurs, almost bookending the film, in the form of location.  By setting two key scenes in the same setting at the beginning and towards the end of the film, it throws the changes that have been wrought over the course of the piece in sharp relief.  That it is hardly flagged up at all, and I only noticed after multiple viewings, made it a much more rewarding and impactful realisation.

There are a couple of sequences which had less impact on me, and I’m uncertain as to whether this is simply because I lack foreknowledge of the story (which is set in the Warring States period, and uses real historical figures for it’s characters) or of Japanese traditions.  In one scene a soldier is shown at great length filling in a primitive musket and replicating a shot he took the night before.  This is done to prove the veracity of his claim to have shot someone, but the length at which the scene plays out suggests significance which I didn’t grasp.  A burst of Noh theatre and a scene where Nobunaga Oda sings in a throaty chant only succeeded in boggling me, though a surreal / expressionistic dream / nightmare sequence stood out as being markedly, but assuredly, odd.

My favourite performance of the film comes from Hideji Otaki, who portrays Masekage Yamagata, the Fire Battalion Leader / Red Fire Unit Leader.  The character is an influential General in Shingen’s army, and a close friend.  He stands out for his furious telling-off of his leader:

“You are a mountain monkey.  You should be out gathering nuts in the mountains of Kai!”

Otaki was possibly selected for the role due to his ability to release pointed tirades, grand explosions of shouting, and then quickly settle back into restrained dignity.  That, and his inhuman ability to turn a shocking shade of crimson.  He is, after all, the Red Fire Unit Leader.  In council scenes, Masekage takes the floor, addresses his peers in a restrained manner, before building up Cleesian volume, often ending his outbursts with barked, powerful laughter.  Of an enemy officer he declares:

“He scares me.”

Before sidling back to his cushion, throwing his head back 90 degrees and commanding all to laugh by turning himself a deep red with forceful laughter.  Frightening and wonderful.

The film also features palanquins, which is always a good thing.  Say it out loud “palanquin”.  Savour the word.  Palanquin.

The overarching plot of the film is Shingen’s forces fighting the combined threat of Ieyasu Tokagawa and Nobunaga Oda, but it is really a study of a man who is forced into a situation far beyond his knowledge, where he is forced to develop responsibility, and dignity.  A fraught film that needs to be properly engaged with to be really appreciated, but which rewards your engagement fully.

Hot-Blooded Woman: Manhwa Review

Title: Hot-Blooded Woman
Genre: Action, Drama, Romance, Supernatural
Author: Hwang Mi Ri
Volumes: 24 (Nice and chunky)



Ha Ji Kang used to be picked on by her brothers who would use her as a practise dummy for their martial arts. Running to her friend for help she is told to stand up on both legs and fight her own battles, otherwise people would look down on her as a dog that needs to be looked after. Having taken this advice to heart she is now the leader of a gang and has whipped her brothers – as well as others – into submission. All of this changes, however, when she smashes straight into a truck during one of her gang’s bike rides. After waking up in the body of the ever so feminine and delicate Aram Han, Ha Ji will be facing many different obstacles ranging from bullying to attempted murder.
If there’s one thing in the world that I know, it is that this series had me hooked from the very first volume. Granted, the opening premise isn’t exactly the most original, but there isn’t much that is these days. Ha Ji’s character is something that always had me chuckling to myself while I was reading; her almost unconditional trust in her friend Han Seo Jang is cute and reassuring, but unfortunately that blind trust is something that throws her and the other main character involved into a horrible messy circle of revenge and cruelty. Most, if not all, of the characters present a fantastic representation of how everyone in society is hiding behind a mask, and it’s interesting to see what happens when these masks are broken, which is what the entire series seems to be exploring.

Maybe it’s just the way that it’s printed or something, but Manhwa has always looked quite grainy to me, not that I’m complaining. Even if you don’t like it it’s easy to ignore as it all comes together into one nice set of pictures, but I suppose that’s just the difference in styles when compared with Manga, which tends to use slightly thicker, more solid outlines to paint the picture.

I love it to bits regardless of the art style, but sometimes it can be quite hard to get used to, not to mention the overabundance of names and families. Sometimes Manhwa has so many different characters with too many names to remember that I’ve had the strong urge to just put it down and walk away, but if that was enough of a reason then there’s a lot of great series that I wouldn’t have read by now. Funnily enough this series doesn’t present so many names that differentiating between them is like trying to pick out a wasp in a swarm of bees. Sure, for me it took a little time to get used to who was whom and what was what, but I got there eventually, and if I can do it then there’s no way in hell you should be complaining.

I thoroughly enjoyed the story. It carries on for 24 volumes but I never got tired of it as it constantly ducked and weaved its way through the plot beautifully from start to finish. Relationships often switched around multiple times and various plot twists allowed a fresh start for many of the characters and their place in the series. One thing I especially liked was how people acted behind the poker faces they’d made for themselves compared with how they spoke to other people, and how getting too used to using that poker face could sometimes screw them over. There are multiple points in the series where the stories just suddenly stops and makes a sharp turn in direction, so you can be sure that you’ll never be bored with it, and it’s great for questioning your trust in certain characters and presenting you with doubt only to take it back. Something else that I like is that this series constantly reminds you that no matter who it is, everyone has a wicked, selfish side to them. Even if it’s small and insignificant, it still exists.

Overall I thoroughly enjoyed this series, but I have been told that it is very similar to her other works, so if you’ve read some of the author’s other series you may end up the same regurgitated character types and plot twists. If you enjoy duality and opposing personalities clashing then this series is most certainly for you, and after some time it will have you asking yourself who has the best poker face, and who is truly the most wicked of them all.

Koi Kaze: Manga Review

Just so's ya know, I'm posting this on behalf of Turbo Weeaboo.

Title: Koi Kaze
Author: Motoi Yoshida
Volumes: 5
Released: September 2001
Genre: Romance, Drama



The Plot

Koshiro Saeki’s girlfriend has just broken up with him; accusing him of being a cold man and his calm attitude towards the news makes it all the more apparent.
The next day Koshiro sees a girl on the train crying while looking at a button. As she leaves he notices the girl has dropped her wallet and runs after her to return it, finding her smiling at the falling cherry blossoms. Later that day when leaving work with a co-worker Koshiro yet again sees the same girl, and having two free tickets to a local amusement park he offers her both of them, but is surprised when she asks him to come along with her.

While riding the Ferris wheel the girl confesses that she was rejected after confessing to someone she had a crush on and Koshiro follows suit by talking about his own break up, shocked to discover himself crying while the girl comforts him.
As they leave the amusement park they both greet Koshiro’s father and are soon shocked to learn that they’re siblings; thanks to his habit of staying out all night Koshiro was unaware that his sister Nanoka would be coming to live with their father because it would be closer to her school, and thanks to their living apart they were both unaware of what the other looked like.

Although he now knows they are siblings Koshiro soon finds that the initial attraction he felt when he was unaware Nanoka was his sister continues to grow, despite his own horror and revulsion at these feelings and his attempts to repress them. Meanwhile Nanoka is developing feelings of her own.

What's Good

The idea of incest is one that usually sparks disgust in the majority of people and although the subject matter is a bit uncomfortable it is interesting to see how well the characters’ reactions are portrayed. Koshiro’s struggle to deny his feelings for his sister and his hatred for them are admirable and (at least to this reviewer) allows for a sympathetic feeling for his awkward situation. The way his attempts to act like a normal brother are conflicting with his hidden attraction result in some seemingly realistic responses, becoming flustered and angry at some times, amused and doting at others. Nanoka’s own conflicted feelings are also quite realistic and due to her young age her confusion over matters of romance are typical of a teenager.

What's bad

The obvious thing here is if you’re not willing to abide the subject of incest then this is definitely not a story for you since it is the central focus of the series, essentially portraying it in a more sympathetic light than modern society might consider proper.
The series also ends on somewhat of an unresolved note. In the sense of keeping with the story this is more realistic, since in real-life situations (especially those so controversial and awkward) are rarely resolved to such a complete degree as shown in fiction. However it can still be frustrating for someone who seeks ultimate closure recipe “a la ‘happily ever after’”.

Conclusion
While the subject matter can be viewed as taboo I would recommend this series if you feel you can handle the controversial nature and although incest is not normally seen in a positive light you can still feel somewhat sympathetic towards the two main characters, who have been thrust into a situation neither planned nor wanted in the beginning, but are now stuck dealing with the consequences the best way they can. In my humble opinion it is a sweet and touching story, although ultimately that is up to you to decide.

Tokyo Godfathers: Film Review

Title: Tokyo Godfathers

Written by: Satoshi Kon & Keiko Nobumoto

Directed by: Satoshi Kon

Year: 2003

Before we begin, I feel it's probably worth noting that there are probably spoilers in this review.

I wanted the review to go a bit more in depth than just outlining the plot, so it is perhaps unavoidable that some aspects would be revealed in order to explain my points.

If you're reading this review in order to determine whether or not you should watch Tokyo Godfathers, here, in short, is your answer: Yes. It is good.

The review beneath is less critical and more analytical than is usual for reviews I think, but that is, on this occasion, how I rolled.

I will reiterate, slight spoilers below.

*****

I felt since it was Christmas I would do the right thing and make an offering of a Christmassy film as a review. Being a cynical individual, however, I felt it was necessary to stay away from offering that were morkish or twee. I feel I achieved this well.

Set around Christmas and the New Year, Tokyo Godfathers is the story of three homeless people who discover an abandoned baby and proceed to care for it and attempt to return it to its rightful owner. Sorry, to its parents. The three homeless protagonists are: Miyuki, a teenage runaway; Gin, a bearded man in late middle-age and; Hana, a slightly-too-masculine flamboyant transvestite.

The film flies in the face of conventional Christmas fare, as the overtly grim and bleak storyline often deals with neuroses and mental illness, featuring as one of the film's main antagonistic driving forces is a disturbed grieving mother who resorts to kidnap in order to resolve her manic misery. The film also features a raft of characters you likely wouldn't expect in a festive feature: a mafia boss, and by association, the mafia; agressive judgemental drunks; weapon-toting nihilistic youths and; homeless people as the main focus.

The conoisseur of all things Satoshi Kon will know that his stories often run along dark tracks, often with the focus on a mental illness or psychotic behaviour of some description. This is definitely present in Tokyo Godfathers, and while those may sound like awful ingredients for a Christmas film souffle, it is a delightful antidote for the often vapid and cloyingly hollow Christmas offerings. The film is, in places, a satire of the Christmas film genre, for example; in the faux-montage sequences where the characters are travelling around the city, with a relentlessly upbeat and claustrophobically chirpy backing track powering away throughout. This is but one of the ways in which the film is able to engineer an ironically harmless feel to a scene, where the reality of all of the characters is far from the sterile warmth that is suggested. Another technique is to use overblown bombastic gurning during arguments, suggesting a cheesy light-heartedness which the actual subject matter does not conform with.

Throughout the piece there are ludicrous 'magical' or 'miracle' coincidences which drag the story out of the fairly realistic portrayal of other aspects, such as living on the street, rummaging through bins and being treated with suspicion and distaste by the populace at large (for being homeless, and everything that brings with it). These 'miracles', however, often coincide, or are inextricably linked to, horrific and/or fatal goings on. In this way, the often highly improbably good fortune is portrayed in the foreground, while something far darker and gruesome is shown behind. For example: an argument breaks out between an aggressive drunk and the main characters in a shop, the drunks aggressive behaviour driving the group outside. No sooner are they outside than an ambulance careens off the snow-covered road and ploughs headlong into the shop, reducing it to glass and rubble as the group look on from mere yards away, shocked but unharmed. These bizarre episodes lend the film a delightfully offbeat feel, where each scene, as innocuous as it may appear, has a brooding tenseness to it.

Further contrast is to be found as the seemingly invincible cloud that covers the main characters is sometimes punctured, which is dramatically appealing, as there is no excitement in following the story of characters who cannot be harmed. In one sequence Gin, the bearded father-figure of the group, is assaulted by a group of teenagers, who seem to be trawling the area attacking tramps for their own amusement. It is unusual to find such a random occurence in a film, and it is an event which seems to acknowledge that however pressing and important the narrative you believe your are following is, there are often situations that arise that are out of your control. It is also an unusual thing to find in a Christmas film, which further adds to the subversion. I doubt there are many Christmas films where a bloodied and beaten homeless person lies on the cusp of death on bins in an alleyway. I suppose that is probably a good thing though, it is fresh as a change, but if it was a staple of yule offerings it would seem needlessly upsetting.

The messages I felt the film was sending were, despite its atypical nature, were fairly similar to those you'd expect of a Christmas film, albeit from a very extreme angle. The film promotes love and family, particularly working through hardship for your family, although it does acknowledge that the perfect family often depicted on-screen is a ludicrous fabrication. At one juncture the characters are discussing people having started a family, and the shot cuts away to a billboard atop a skyscraper which portrays a beaming pregnant wife with a responsible proud husband standing beside her, hand around her shoulder. In comparison, the main 'family' of the film is the infinitely unconventional unit that consists of homeless father, transvestite (and homeless) male-mother, runaway (and homeless) teenage daughter and abandoned (and therefore homeless) baby.

There is a steep arc of ridiculousness toward the end of the film, where, despite characters often declaring in self-awareness that they aren't action heroes, the plot does veer down an action-packed tangent. Strangely, this works well, and in no way does it undermine the integrity of the piece. It is as though following protagonists who are so cut-off from the world which the viewer inhabits (I am assuming here that the viewer isn't homeless) that turning up the level of surrealism in the film doesn't alter it's credibility. Although eventually the film feels as though it no longer desires your credulity, and is experimenting with extreme grotesques of overblown miracles that feels like a middle-finger-up to the Christmas film bourgeoisie (Home Alone etc).

The film uses Hana, the trampvestite (what?), to excellent use, using his/her tongue-in-cheek bombastic flamboyancy to deliver lines that are slightly too sincere to meld comfortably with the film, in a way which fits perfectly. My personal favourite is: "Being able to speak freely is the lifeblood of love". Suckle on that for a bit.

At the conclusion of the film, SERIOUSLY NOW SPOILERS, the pieces are all in place to allow an all-loose-ends-tied-up/happy-ever-after finale, which it deftly sidesteps by simply presenting the various jigsaw pieces needed, which while it is heavily suggestive, it requires the viewer to assemble them in their own imagination, or not to, as they see fit.

A powerhouse of a film. Funny, too.

Riding Bean: OVA Review

Title: Riding Bean

Author: Kenichi Sonoda

Director: Yasuo Hasegawa

Year: 1989

Back in those golden days when the Sci-Fi Channel had the presence of mind to broadcast anime goldies, there were certain factors that prohibited me from viewing them. The main factor was a bedtime. So in order to avail myself of these films, it was necessary to badger my parents, to ensure that they put a tape on to record at the end of the night, and all-importantly, that it was on the correct channel. It is in this way that I availed myself of many of the retro classics: Patlabor, Appleseed, Ghost in the Shell, Black Jack, Golgo 13, Black Magic M-66 and, slightly inappropriately, Violence Jack. I would often view the information tab on these shows, to decide whether or not they were worth recording, though in the end it likely boiled down to two variables upon which I would judge a film. These two variables were: running time and, more importanly, age certificate. It is for these reasons that Riding Bean was never taped, being quite a short film, and not having an 18 certificate. In a strange twist of fate, it is currently listed on imdb as an 18 certificate in the UK, so whether or not my memory is letting me down I may never know. I may simply have avoided it due to its title, imagining that it is a tale that centred around an anthropormorphised runner bean with equestrian tendencies.

As it turns out, I would very much have enjoyed it. So, I am glad that I have watched it now.

Riding Bean is a masterpiece of gratuitousness: gratuitous violence, gratuitous nudity and gratuitous chin.

The film (or one-shot OVA?) throws us into the midst of the action, with our hero, the daftly named Bean Bandit, waiting as a getaway driver for two goons who are committing a robbery and peppering the inside of a mall with shotgun shells. It is in this opening sequence that we also get to see pretty much all of a hostage, an inexplicably naked orange-haired lady, suspiciously too faithful in her representation with a corset-shaped tanline. Is it more suspect that they drew it, or that I found it worth commenting on?

So follows the film's first car-chase, of many, with obligatory police-car pile-ups. I like my sentences hyphenated. Using the term 'obligatory' sounds as though I am doing the car-chases down, which certainly isn't the case. As car-chases go they are very entertaining, but in reality those sort of sequences have never really been my thing. Though my mind was blown by some of the activities of Bean's wIkk3d k3wl car, such as when the wheels turn 90 degrees and send the car hurtling sideways instead of forwards. That is the sort of sequence that would've blown the mind of my 12 year old self, unfortunately only leaving my 22 year old self ruing that he hadn't watched the film a decade earlier. Since the film was released in 1989, it apalls me that this technology does not come standard with every car. The concept is at least 20 years old now! Henry Ford would be spinning in his grave! But no, the technology isn't there yet. He has to make do with doing doughnuts. It's just not the same.

Riding Bean is very much a product of the 80s. The anime of that era which made it to Western shores seems to share certain things in common: an over the top grotesque obsession with "cool" style, being set in a cityscape, nudity, and guns, specifically, a tendency to use them wantonly. Not forgetting a gloriously New Wave/Power Rock crossover of a soundtrack, to be drunk into your ears like a pint of the distilled sweat of Oingo Boingo and Stan Bush. Sound appetising? It is!

In my notes I have written that the film is, on occasion, "fucking vicious with blood", which is certainly an accurate description, and I feel omitting the coarse language of that description would be doing the film down. Its the sort of film which doesn't mind a character getting shot, and if that happens, it would be wise to expect sudden torrential hemoglobin downpour.

There is a vein of comedy running through the film, though the humour shies away from subtlety, instead favouring overblown shouting and gurning. One example is where Bean is rendered furious by an oafish gunman disrespecting his car, which prompts a hugely odd reaction. Bean throws a number of peanuts into his own mouth, straps himself into the car-seat and then chomps down so aggressively on them that his shades fall off. A strange, strange scene.

The car is a big focus of the film, named 'The Roadbuster', it is zehr fast, ludicrously armoured to the point of near-invincibility and red. It seemed to be Bean's main strong attribute, to the point where I had to wonder if he would be of any use away from the wheel of the car. Ohohohoho! I am glad you asked Mr Gilder. Bean is able to withstand bullets, punch through doors and lift a car up by its bumper. "How?" I hear you ask. Fuck knows.

This is the sort of inexplicably daft point that would usually anger me in a film, but Riding Bean somehow manages to be thoroughly endearing despite the ludicrousness of its plot. This is further strange as the dialogue is often banal, with the hilarious quips and witty badinage between characters lacking any wit. The film is probably helped by its relatively short running time, which keeps things punchy, and also by the fact that it is in some way an unofficial pilot episode for Gunsmith Cats, which the author was forced to rename it thanks to falling out with the production company. So I can at least hope that the issues of Bean's superhuman strength are explained in there.

If not, Kenichi Sonoda needs a slap. A soft one though. On the wrist. The other wrist, silly. Do I have to do everything myself?

I haven't really dealt with the film's plot, which was tactful of me as it is full of twists and duplicity which I would've ruined through explaining. So go and watch it and find out what they are.

Oh yes, and Bean Bandit has a stupid chin.

Psycho Staff: Manga Review

Title: Psycho Staff
Genre: Action, Comedy, Romance, Sci-Fi
Author: Satoshi Mizukami
Volumes: 1 (7 Chapters)



“To Hiiragi Kouichi, I’ll be waiting for you after school behind the gym. Sakuragi Umeko.” This is the first time Hiiragi Kouichi has ever gotten what seems like a love letter. He goes to the meeting place thinking something exciting and extraordinary is going to take place that will blow all reality out of proportion. Well it turns out he’s right for all the wrong reasons.
Sakuragi Umeko is an agent of the Space Esper Corps from the planet R’lyeh looking to recruit Kouichi, claiming he is a B-Class psychic.
Needless to say he immediately rejects her invitation, ignoring her rambling and saying he wants to go to University more than he wants to go to space.
The series spans seven chapters, allowing the reader a glimpse into a brief but interesting sequence of events.

I like dry, serious characters. I say that, I like it when they’re done well. A lot of the time characters that are supposed to be blunt, witty and clever are nothing beyond a shallow, insensitive husk that barely resembles a decent character. A character needs another element to his attitude that off-sets these harsh characteristics, maybe through using some kind of personal information to justify them, or softening their effects by adding a layer of sensitivity or content that makes the dryness seem less harsh.
This is why I like the main character of Psycho Staff. Kouichi avoids nonsense and always has a serious, cynical outlook on what he does, but over the seven chapters you get to find out what he’s like underneath it all, and that is something satisfying to read.
Umeko is another great character, although her conviction and motivation is something you see in a lot of characters just like her, so as a person she is quite predictable, but the scenarios within the series are interesting enough that while the character is predictable the situation she’s in is bizarre enough to warrant different courses of action.

Fans of “Lucifer and the Biscuit Hammer” (a.k.a Wakusei no Samidare) and “Sengoku Youko” will immediately recognise Satoshi Mizukami’s original art style. While the style is pretty simplistic, it has enough detail to make sure the panels aren’t bland but not so much that you can’t see what’s going on (one of the things I hate most in Manga is when you can’t distinguish one thing from another in a scene).

For all its merits it suffers the problem of being very short. While I was most certainly satisfied with it as a whole, the ending seemed a little rushed and a lot of pivotal moments are busted out in a short amount of time, leaving the reader to wonder whether the artist really did have bigger plans for the story. Rushed as it is the ending is satisfying, finishing the story while implying that more happens later.

While I am slightly disappointed by the short length of the Manga, it is still very much worth the read as long as you can let go of it by the seventh chapter.