“By changing your viewpoint just a bit, you can see familiar things in a whole new light. It happens a lot. And really works.”

I’ve no idea what’s up with the current fad for live-action adaptations of anime and manga these days, although I’m pretty excited about the feature-length effort of Solanin. The thing is, it’s so easy for me to imagine how well Inio Asano’s graphic novels can make the jump from paper to big screen since he has such a keen eye for scene composition and, to coin a hackneyed phrase, a finger on the pulse on what makes ordinary ‘real life’ people tick. He captures snapshots of everyday life events with the flair of a skilled photographer; What a Wonderful World! pre-dates it by several years but the intentions, and end results, are similar.

I’ve been interested in twentieth-century history for as long as I can remember – before my fascination with Japanese popular culture even began I was drawn to the issues surrounding the atomic bombings of 1945. Fumiyo Kouno is one of many writers and artists who have taken on the subject but her approach is one that conveys the human cost of the events in an unusual way. Town of Evening Calm, Country of Cherry Blossoms is a short, surprisingly sweet but nevertheless powerful work.
I’m always wary of spin-offs and retellings that aren’t done by the original writer or artist; particularly so when the story is one of my personal favourites. As much as I admire Makoto Shinkai’s Hoshi no Koe OAV I’ve always felt it had some room for improvement, but wasn’t sure whether anyone else could recreate what made it so special. There’s no denying that it was a tantalisingly short piece in the first place, which is all part of its charm really, but I was still intrigued by what could be done in a different format without the restrictions imposed on the film that it’s based on.
“As I was watching Evangelion, up until about the fourteenth episode, I remember thinking ‘Ahh! Everything I’ve always wanted to do has been done! I don’t have to do anything any more! Anno and his crew have done it all for me!’” admits Hiroki Endo, in the Afterword to the first volume of Eden: it’s an endless world!, as he shares his thoughts on how certain titles set the standard but at the same time can never capture your own individual emotions and ideas. I know exactly where he’s coming from: had everyone resigned to the notion that there would never be anyone to top Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton might have thrown in the towel and Stevie Ray Vaughan may never have bothered either. How could the evolution of guitar music ever continue?
There’s still a lot to be said for the good old-fashioned medium of words stamped onto slices of dead trees. I honestly believe certain stories work better in one medium than another; Haruhi Suzumiya is I think a case in point. The TV show’s shuffled broadcast order never significantly improved the experience because I’ve yet to hear a convincing explanation for it. The translation of the light novel on the other hand seems to keep an ordered chronology as nature, and Nagaru Tanigawa, intended and is more satisfying for that.
Satoshi Kon’s animated adaptation of Tsutsui’s novel Paprika shouldn’t need much of an introduction; at least I hope not since I can’t give an objective view on the film given the immense amount of respect I have for Kon as a director. I’m glad I found out about the English translation of the novel though, not least because Tsutsui is apparently one of Japan’s most well-known science fiction authors; he has a reputation for being notoriously outspoken and prolific, and even wrote the original Girl Who Leapt Through Time. I like him already.
