Mono no aware

A theory of mine is that advances in digital technology and the Internet can really help independently-produced films from the smaller animation studios. Viral marketing, fansites and blogs have produced some surprising success stories in recent years; similarly the mind-boggling leaps in hardware and software mean that small groups or even individuals can further their careers on realistic budgets in ways that were inconceivable a decade ago.

Atsuya Uki’s debut feature Cencoroll fits into this trend in that he’s produced a short film based on his award-winning manga short Amon Game with minimal outside assistance. While he’s hardly the first one to take this route it has its own quirky charm that really grew on me; it’s one of those one-shot home-grown oddities whose indie roots are not necessarily detrimental to their quality, and benefit greatly from online fan exposure for their success. Granted, it’s not *quite* what I expected it to be but even aside from the ‘one bloke made this’ angle, it shows a hell of a lot of promise.

What with Darker than Black: Ryuusei no Gemini, my rewatch of Kuro no Keiyakusha is a primer of sorts for getting back into the the story so I can hopefully breeze effortlessly(!) through. One of DtB’s defining features was the way it held back on explanations for what appeared to be quite significant plot points to make it occasionally frustrating but undeniably compelling. I must admit that even on the second attempt I still can’t say for sure I understand everything but oddly this doesn’t really bother me as much as I expected.

And yes, Shinjuku really does look as awesome as this IRL…

I don’t feel I have to understand the full background to the characters and their situations to understand them because enough of the important things are already made clear, which I hope was the intention of the writers. As is often the case I instead try to immerse myself in the worldview to let the answers reveal themselves in a passive fashion: something I find particularly easy for a show that takes the approach that this one does.

There’s been a lot said about Bakemonogatari just lately, which makes me worry about whether I have anything new and valuable to say. I’d been relatively quiet about it for other reasons too: one being how the middle section of the show left me with mixed feelings. Another is that, as I mentioned in my comment to Gaguri’s excellent recent post, the overall experience of dialogue and visuals combined is so overwhelming that I’ll need a rewatch to appreciate it fully.

Where’s a Reaction Guys-style celebration when you need one?

The problems with the middle episodes were minor ones: mostly the general absence of Hitagi, plus the ‘higher class of fanservice’ (as I clumsily called it) starting to feel a bit exploitative. Fortunately episode #12 made up for whatever I’d felt unsure about earlier on with the only remaining concern being that of the final three episodes. As in, how could anything follow on from this without feeling like a let-down? It was as fitting as it was surprising – I wouldn’t have minded too much if the series ended there and then.

This will get a second season, right? Right? As much as I praise various anime titles for being outstanding within that ‘anime’ context, it’s a rare thing indeed to experience one that transcends the genre convention – simply put, it’s great storytelling, full stop. No question. The long waits between releases, the short episode running times and the ONA distribution all worked to build up my anticipation for each instalment and leave me wanting more every time but the fact remains that it’s not only good anime; it’s just good.

For every question answered in this episode (which is, I might add, a full ten minutes or so longer than the previous five) I reckon it posed another. But whatever. The way it effortlessly sways the viewer’s emotions every which way then leaves a bittersweet aftertaste is something to be treasured, really. I can’t stress how rewarding a rewatch is though, because there are little details that are important yet all too easy to miss; I’d love to see this in full HD. The Crunchyroll DtO option isn’t bad in itself: all good entertainment is worth paying for, after all.

In my first post on FLCL I stuck to a general impression-style approach because, quite honestly, there’s too much to say about it in one go. Given the fact that it’s easy for the colourful and frenetic nature of the series to obscure the really clever things it does, I felt the need to concentrate on the characterisation. So here it is: the second half of my assessment of why FLCL is pure win, even now.

In most cases the point that stories are always about the characters is fundamental and obvious: remove that and all you’re left with is a cool-looking music video or experiment in artistic techniques at best, and a meaningless mess at worst. There’s more to FLCL than just the superficial coolness so the usual rules apply: when the after-effects of the explosions and WTF moments subside this series stays with you. Important things happen to those involved and, are meaningful because you care about what happens. The crazy stuff really just serves to emphasise why certain things are significant, albeit conveying the said significance of the feelings and events in an innovative and memorable way.

A while ago I asked my readers for some recommendations and you wonderful people obliged. One of the titles that cropped up more than once was Hataraki Man and since it had been on my to-watch list since forever I tracked down the full series. And marathoned it. Cheers folks.

I can see why it’s one of those sleeper hits because of its realistic setting, live-action feel and they way it appeals to the josei or seinen demographics, without limiting itself to either piegeonhole. As I said in my previous post a healthy slab of realism is a good thing, and Noitamin A has a history of being a good place to find it. This title also goes even further than the pleasant surprises of Clannad ~after story~ and Solanin in breaking through the glass ceiling of portraying life after high school. Win.

I was intrigued by Tokyo Magnitude 8.0 because of the Noitamin A timeslot (which has so far also yielded Higashi no Eden, Hataraki Man and Moyashimon) but also because of the promise to portray the events of an earthquake in as realistic a manner as possible. I’m guessing that animation, rather than live-ation, was the most efficient medium to go about this project for budgetry constraints; in terms of character designs and fluidity of animation I wouldn’t say it goes out of its way to dazzle the viewer though. It’s in Bones’ typical MO however: not necessarily groundbreaking but reassuringly solid and consistent.

The visuals do at least show how the events would look without overdramatising things, which is a particular benefit for those of us who have never actually witnessed a major earthquake for ourselves. I have to say there are some nailbiting moments here, mainly because the order of the day is preventing the drama being at the expense of being true-to-life. In the posts I’ve read so far it’s surprising how so many bloggers have found more to say on the drama side of things rather than the documentary aspect…and I can see why.

I know I’m late to the Bakemonogatari party. I shouldn’t be, considering how it’s so Relevant To My Interests: it has a vampire, a tsundere, puns and wordplay with Shinbo occupying the director’s chair, for crying out loud. The first couple of episodes didn’t blow me away immediately though: there’s always this vibe of quirkiness that surrounds everything that Shinbo does, which means I have to do a little mental adjustment to appreciate it so I’m confident that it’s worth sticking with.

The whole catching of a floating girl reminded me of the beginning of Miyazaki’s Laputa for some reason. Oh yeah, the staircase looked like DNA or something

I was a little sceptical about the Nisio Isin connection since he was the author of that Death Note spin-off I had mixed feelings about. This is I think completely his own work however, and fortunately has plenty of potential too. After I’d sat through both halves of the first arc my confusion gave way to a sense of respect for how the visuals and themes worked together. I now have a really good feeling about this one.

Spice and Wolf was always a B-list title for me, albeit an enjoyable one. I appreciated the fact that it was an unusual series in terms of the setting, characters and story but even so it lacked a certain spark; something that would take it above merely enjoyable and into something to really look forward to every week. Maybe the animation was lacklustre, the direction not firm enough or the plot itself didn’t set the world afire but whatever. I wanted to love it but in the end it never really made a lasting impression.

The second season has everything the first one did – namely a continuation of the two travelling companions making their way through a Middle Ages countryside with some medieval economics along the way – but somehow it’s much more impressive. Brains Base are handling the animation better than IMAGIN did and the Lawrence/Horo relationship is actually developing now; There’s certainly much more dramatic tension than I ever noticed in the first few episodes, which is also what makes the second season really outstanding.

Although the episode titles are usually self-explanatory for this series I’d say this outing was as focused on Rikuo as it was on the young girl and her elderly companion. Not that this is a bad thing, mind: we’ve been given hints of who (or what) they may be already, and they’re frequent visitors to the café anyway. It’s not so much who they are as why their relationship is the way it is that is interesting for me because of the resulting ethical questions. Not to mention another tantalisingly small piece of the jigsaw puzzle of the backstory for the show.

Perhaps we’re supposed to be concentrating on Chie and Shimei here but I was even more fascinated by Rikuo’s predicament in this episode. The philosophical stuff – and simpler, more day-to-day issues too – gave me plenty to think about, and ultimately provided the biggest emotional hit from Eve no Jikan’s latest quarter-hour offering. As unlikely as the prospect may be, I hope Ray Kurzweil is watching this too.