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'Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water' is a fascinating piece of overlooked anime history, as well as an adventure classic. Those fond of 'Neon Genesis Evangelion', in particular, owe it to themselves to watch it because Nadia is the anime that directly influenced Evangelion; in the form of director Hideaki Anno's very own version of a much loved Ghibli classic.

The reason Nadia holds such influence is - partly - because the stress of working on the series was what lead to Anno's (in)famous four-year period of depression, which he would later channel into a sort of negative creativity in the form of THE psychological breakdown ... anime; Evangelion. The two share the same animation studio, Gainax, and a considerable amount of key staff, including Anno himself, the character designer (Sadamoto) and composer (Sagisu). So, thematically and aesthetically, there are NUMEROUS similarities.
Perhaps even more interestingly, Anno started out as an animator by impressing Hayao Miyazaki... and it was Miyazaki that came up with the original idea for Nadia, based on Jules Verne's 'Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea', which he himself would later transform into 'Laputa: Castle in the Sky'. Nadia could be described as Anno's version of Laputa; complete with his own brand of characterisation where very relatable, human failings become part of lovable characters.

Nadia begins in disarmingly lighthearted fashion. Set during 1889, the series opens with an aviation fair in Paris. The titular heroine, Nadia, encounters the male lead, Jean (a young French inventor), whilst working for a traveling circus troupe with her pet lion and series mascot, King. Jean falls in love at first sight and saves Nadia from comical, almost Team Rocket-esque 'villains' that later become endearing.
Then begins a world spanning adventure that starts out fun-filled. Along the way, an adorable "This is no fun!" young girl called Marie forms a close bond with Nadia, under surprisingly tragic circumstances. The tone then shifts, becoming darker, starting with the first encounter with the series enigmatic masked villain, Gargoyle. An organisation known as 'Neo Atlantis' controls the world from the shadows, using advanced technology from ancient Atlantis, and is pursuing Nadia for the mysterious 'Blue Water' pendant she possesses. The lead duo eventually end up as crew members on the futuristic submarine Nautilus and are forced to grow up quickly due to the crew having but one mission: to destroy Neo Atlantis. They are all that stands between Gargoyle and world domination. The series retains a lighthearted edge, but children having to confront the harsh realities of adult life after becoming involved with military chain of command is undeniably similar to Evangelion.

Before the small matter of Nadia-to-Evangelion influences, what made Nadia controversial to the point of sending Anno into the pits of depression and ALMOST ruined the series? For starters, there was a so-called movie sequel, which Anno and the original staff did not work on and is SO TERRIBLE people pretend it does not exist. And the TV series contains its very own non-Anno horror show. Anno only wrote/directed 26-29 episodes. Episodes 23-34 are the ultimate anime evil that Bleach/Naruto fans will be all too familiar with: FILLERS. The tone shifted to deserted island 'comedy' (complete with cartoonish exaggerations such as Jean filling up with water like a balloon)... bizarrely RIGHT AFTER the series reached its darkest depths. Every character trait was reduced to the most juvenile of levels as the series went in mind-numbing circles. Worse, Nadia's character did a 180 and was butchered to the point she regressed from having an understandably naive vegetarian viewpoint... to deciding she would live only with nature; later begging for animals AND FISH to save her. She also stole food after forcing Jean to build a camp on his own since "she hates science" and just outright started treating him terribly, out of nowhere.
The change in writing and direction was SO BLATANT that, when Anno resumed after the fillers ended, he ignored what came before. The worst involved Jean getting high on mushrooms and Nadia deciding she liked some random episodic boy more than Jean; completing her character self-destruction. And if you think the fillers are ok to begin with, believe me: when the second deserted island arrives, head -> wall.

Ignoring the filler HELL, though, Nadia is an excellent character and FAR from your typical anime heroine. For one, she is black and of African descent. For two, she is best described as the prototype tsundere for Evangelion's Asuka. A more human, less ANIME tsundere, if you will. What is most striking about Anno's work is that he clearly values characterisation above all else (almost in complete contrast to Miyazaki).
Anno's female characters in particular come across so strongly one would assume they were created by a woman. Nadia is no exception to this. Her love interest and companion, Jean, is no Shinji Ikari but she challenges him at every turn none the less with her dominant, strong-willed personality. Her jealousy over Jean unwittingly irking her by talking to other females; her hypocrisy over being a vegetarian / arguing with Jean over eating meat, whilst not minding her pet eating meat... there is a distinctly female charm about her 'evil eye' glares and the natural inconsistency between how she treats Jean and others that make her flaws as a person believable; reminding me of Kyoko from Maison Ikkoku. As I have always said, a flawed character is a human character. Nadia's maternal bond with a young girl, Marie, being reflected in Marie copying her comments about males and how she mimics another female character's comments about the bickering 'husband and wife' relationship between Nadia and Jean was priceless.

Other characters also clearly would later have an influence on Evangelion. Captain Nemo's unreadable persona in a military position and actions that traumatise adolescent characters is reminiscent of Gendo Ikari. Nemo's First Officer, Electra, and her relationship with Nemo has a touch of Misato Kusanagi's father complex issues, paired with Ritsuko's one-sided love seen in Evangelion. And Electra also shared a bond with Jean similar to that of Misato and Shinji. Even moving away from the characterisation and onto more superficial aspects, the submarine battles complete with radar tension and the more serious soundtrack pieces give off a distinct Evangelion vibe. One such track was even later remixed and reused in 'Evangelion: 3.0 You Can (Not) Redo'!

The version I (re)watched was Animatsu's UK Blu-ray release of Nadia, and the remastered high-definition video quality truly impresses. Seeing Sadamoto's distinctive, charming 'old school' art style in an image so sharp that the dirt on the anime cels clearly shows, paired with colours so vibrant, made it a joy to watch. At first I feared the slight 'jittering' of the image occasionally visible and what I assumed to be a related 'vibrating edge-shadow' issue were caused by the remastering process, but no: I checked my old ADV DVDs, and just about visible under the blurriness, it had the same effect. The video quality is just now so vivid I am able to notice those almost insignificant niggles. I did notice some issues during the filler episodes (a few brief parts not appearing remastered and colour bleeding), but nothing too terrible. Overall, it is up there with Cowboy Bebop's remaster; only let down by Nadia having a much smaller budget than that series.

The ONE disappointing aspect of Nadia in terms of audio is the old ADV English dub. It is one of THOSE older anime dubs where the cast read stiffly off the script, sounding painfully wooden. Jean in particular will make or break the dub for viewers: he speaks with a thick/fake French accent... whilst no-one else bothers with similarly totally overdone accents in what is a multicultural anime. Nadia certainly does not sound African. A bad idea, that. The dub cast either only have Nadia on their resume - still - or few to no other roles. And it is easy to see why. Whilst it was a nice touch to cast child actors to voice child characters, it was not a particularly wise move. Compare them against the array of Japanese talent, such as Noriko Hidaka as Jean and Akio Ootsuka as Nemo, and the writing is on the wall. Just the manner in which Nadia's voice actress in Japanese can say Jean's name with such tender affection, then seconds later convey almost venomous anger... the difference in range is night and day. I STRONGLY recommend watching in Japanese.

In summary, Nadia offers a charming adventure, grounded by Anno's human-relatable characters. The tone and pacing is initially inconsistent - only showing its darker edge around episode five - but, ignoring the fillers that weigh the series down like an anchor, there is honestly little to complain about. Jean did become less important as the series went on, in spite of some decent boy-to-man maturity--he simply had no relevance to the plot outside of his relationship with Nadia. Due to this, rather than Jean, my favourite male character was the villain, Gargoyle: his despicable, cunning nature was amplified tenfold by the mystery of a man that ALWAYS wore a mask. Truly a hate-worthy villain with a distinctively arrogant voice; never failing to entertain, much like the show itself.

Buy it, watch it and make it last: they do not make anime like this anymore.

There could not have been a more fitting end. Shinichi and Migi's dream in the final episode, along with the internal monologue life preaching that followed immediately after (consisting of HALF the sodding episode!), aptly summarised everything wrong with an anime that may as well have been titled 'Parasyte: Maximum Chatter Within'. It was telling that, with the chance to have AN ACTUAL CONVERSATION outside of Shinichi's head, instead the last exchange between the two characters played out internally. Migi said it was because he (genderless, but forever a bro) wanted Shinichi to forget. And I most certainly agreed with Migi's sentiment.

One of the ... greatest challenges in adapting manga is transferring static thoughts to a medium with motion. Madhouse's solution? To simply transfer EVERYTHING not involving internet modernisation 'Google snake + hand' awkwardness, instead of attempting to rework it into conversations... or maybe just having faith that the target audience do not need to be spoon-fed the obvious. Throughout the entire series, even the most basic of thoughts, such as "Oh no, I am going to die!" was shoved down my throat. Towards the end, it got to the point where - as if in response to the series spamming me with simplistic obviousness - I was internally screaming 'SHOW; DON'T TELL... WHY!?'

In a psychological series, it is important for the lead's thought process to be broken down into comprehensible chunks. But in the case of Shinichi, it was like I was listening to my West Highland Terrier's thoughts as she hunts her mortal enemy, the local squirrel. For example, in episode 23 Shinichi marches off to certain doom to do battle with THE ultimate enemy. Only when finding this last boss that he previously ran from - crying, I might add - does it occur to him a plan would be quite handy. Beforehand, he even monologues about how the situation will surely work itself out, as if certain the author will save him. Predictably, Shinichi found himself thinking "WHAT DO I DO!?' as my eyes rolled into my head. Then, in a moment of 'I will stand here ominously while you think' inspiration, he remembers the old woman he met a few days ago. "Never give up!", she says in his head (not meaning don't give up in the context of a 1 vs. 1 battle with a monster, but I digress). Only then does Shinichi - still in his head - miraculously remember a weak-spot based on plot convenience.

The internal monologues are more of a superficial problem. Irksome but perhaps ignorable for those demented by anime. The real issue? Madhouse adding emphasis to the flaws of something decades old and not fixing ANY of them. At the start of the show, Migi - in his loveable matter of factly way - pointed out that humans are the true parasites on Earth / eat cows. At the end of the show, after it somehow stumbles into politics, a politician says THE EXACT SAME THING, as if it is a revelation. He even gives a dramatic speech. And that is all Parasyte has to offer: what it offered at the very beginning. The rest of the 'plot' simply had Shinichi fight parasites hiding in human skin as Migi told him what to do and/or saved him, whilst I had to plug my ears whenever Kana Havawank's character appeared to avoid punching her face on my screen; especially when the 'romance' became horribly overwrought with THAT damnable piece of music. Never before did I realise adding a voice could make me go from indifference to hatred. Her most noteworthy contribution was supportive sex--a modern day Japanese comfort girl, if you will.

So, what else does the series offer? Well, unlike in the manga, Shinichi starts out as a scrawny four-eyed representation of the what anime has taught me to be the average Japanese high school student. Most of the time, he sounds like he is on the verge of tears. Naturally, three girls still gathered to talk about him, without the bitchy detest reality requires. But before even being halfway done, Shinichi finds himself some hair gel and contact lenses; becoming a new boy, as it were. And then... CIRCLES. The annoying wannabe girlfriend of the piece runs around questioning whether Shinichi is still human after he put a dog in a bin, whilst I simply questioned if he is just an outright moron. Then another girl - with moe earphones added in the anime - decides to also run around after Shinichi due to the 'red string of fate'. Cringe. At this point all I remember is episodes upon episodes of meandering as girls chased Shinichi as he got lost in thought over his inability to cry. Then, towards the end, he discovers he can cry, loses all composure and reverts back to how he started, making me question the point of life/this story. After that, the series randomly just ends on a bizarrely abrupt and 'parasites are hiding now, OH WELL; bye, Migi!' note.

The single most disappointing aspect? Madhouse's (lack of) budget. Over 20 years late, and the only impressive visuals come in an opening that screams 'TEENAGERS: WATCH ME!' so loudly I feel almost old, an exciting intro though it is. So poor is the art consistency that eyes did not even line up correctly in key episodes. And the parasites quickly took a nosedive towards blob animation, so lacking was the detail. It was so limited I started to believe that the mid-battle internal monologues existed to save even more money by avoiding fluidity. And the colours were on the bland side of dull throughout. I just do not understand: why wait all these years to half-arse something?...

I do like some things. Not many, but some. Migi, for one. The brains AND personality of the series... in spite of being emotionless and machine-like by nature. Easily one of the most unique characters ever created and, despite not being human, more relatable than the rest of the the human cast combined. His intentionally unintentional deadpan "That would be a problem" moments of comedy gold are my favourite parts of the series, along with the bizarre grotesque broship bond he shares with Shinichi. And Parasyte does have an undeniably cool concept. There is something genuinely disturbing about a head turning into a mouth and eating people. Some of the music is uniquely excellent, also: 'hypnotik' being my favourite, if only for the previews. But the rest of the show?... the lack of a plot, or any kind of answers given by its tacked-on 'ending', were issues all those years ago. All the anime added is internal monologue emphasis emphasis suffering and... Aya Hirano as a talking hand. An uninspired adaptation of a manga lacking direction and without any closure does not satisfy me, and nor should it satisfy anyone else.

"Yes, King Il. Nobody has said that the princess' hair is strange. But if I may be so bold to say, there is definitely something wrong with her head."
- Hak, Akatsuki no Yona

After considering at length how best to begin reviewing Akatsuki no Yona (Yona of the Dawn), I decided to quote the series squirrel mascot: "PUK KYUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU~!"

I WILL explain the squirrel hilarity behind "puk kyu", but first of all: What - beyond untranslated Japanese - is Akatsuki no Yona?
The answer is a period piece with a HEAVY ancient China / Korea influence, set in the fictional kingdom of Kouka--a nation held together by ... the fragile alliances of tribes rather creatively named after each element... which, of course, is surrounded by threatening nations that could invade. Half a war epic with a princess-to-zero-to-hero narrative driven by betrayal; half a spazzy comedy involving the single greatest squirrel character in the history of squirrels. It also has a fantasy aspect involving reincarnating dragons-in-human-forms and shares striking similarities (the same composer, even!) with another of Studio Pierrot's anime, 'The Twelve Kingdoms', which any discerning viewer with an affection for medieval-fantasy and/or red-haired heroines should go watch. Right now.

Akatsuki's titular heroine, Yona, begins the series as the sort of empty-headed pampered princess that you/I have to repress the desire to want to slap repeatedly. Initially, she cares more about her hair and love than... well, anything. But - OPENING EPISODE SPOILERS ahoy - by the end of the first episode, she is forced to confront reality for the first time when her childhood friend and the prettyboyman that she loves, Su-won, kills her father in cold-blood before her very eyes during a coup-d'etat. What follows is a shell-shocked Yona escaping death herself only because Hak - another of Yona's childhood friends and her bodyguard - stays loyal and protects her. From then onwards, the series becomes a journey, both in terms of traversing the nation (thankfully, with the 'A-to-B' cut!) and for Yona as a character.
By the end of Yona's anime wanderings, there is a moment where she is in danger. The Yona from the beginning of the show would have lacked mental strength, but after all she has experienced and suffered though, her intimidating glare drove home the point: she has been irreversibly changed and will no longer be an ignorant passenger in her own life. The arrow she later shoots without hesitation only confirmed what I already knew: by the end of the story, she will be a true queen and leader. Aided by the squirrel that has happily made its new home on her shoulder, Yona's path is set.

MANY males were no doubt put off by the reverse harem stigma the series unfortunately has (and many more reading his will be put off by my CUTE SQUIRREL obsession). This is because the focus of the series eventually becomes a quest to find four very shoujo-convenient male reincarnating dragon warriors that serve Yona's bloodline, as she attempts to survive and get justice against Su-won. But the 'harem' does not even fully form until the end of the series, and nearly half of the series simply has Yona with only Hak as her protector. This is not the sort of series that throws ten hairless pretty 'male' suitors at viewers from the get-go. Not at all. What is more, it is tasteful... aside from Hak deciding he likes fingers with honey on them and invading Yona's personal space occasionally, and only Hak/Su-won are treated as potential love interests.

Most people will be disappointed to learn that the future tease at the very beginning will have to wait for a second season, with the first season serving as a foundation for what SHOULD follow. On the plus side, Yona's growth into a mentally stronger, more independent heroine is handled so convincingly that I think a lot of people will come away satisfied... providing there is a sequel. Maybe.

~Squirrel & Tone~

Every great story has at least one defining moment people's minds will automatically drift towards, even years after watching. In Akatsuki's case, most people would - naturally - single out its first episode: the coup-d'etat betrayal that set the series on its spoiled-princess-to-ruler path. Others would mention the sixth episode's spear swinging sakuga, which highlighted that the series is not just a consistently pretty face devoid of animation, whilst also making clear Yona is not a heroine destined to remain as a mere damsel-in-distress. But my brain may very well be wired differently, for what I will always, ALWAYS remember is the series squirrel mascot waving on Yona's shoulder as it said the now immortal words: "Puk Kyuuuuu~!".

If I could, I would review the squirrel. Just the attention it receives doing its own, usually silly thing in the background speaks volumes about the effort put into the show. Whenever it was not busy distracting me by getting its head stuck in a honey jar as a rare romantic moment was occurring (or, jumping out of Yona's hood after a fall as if to say "I AM OK/BACK!"... with a FISH in its mouth), it was - as if responding to the characters - sharing its own thoughts with some choice 'animal-talk' words.
There I was, lying with a full glass of orange on my bed as you do, when the squirrel started saying "puk kyu" as the other characters were talking to each other, and it suddenly hit me that in English it sounds VERY MUCH like the cutest creature you will ever see or hear - complete with a permanently silly, smiling/blushing face - is telling the other characters 'f*** you'. No, really! As if that was the squirrel's contribution to the conversation and its viewpoint. This made me giggle like a school girl uncontrollably and knock the drink all over myself/my bed. If you doubt me, I want you to try to visualise this in your head: there you have the cast discussing serious matters of life and death, then the screen switches to the squirrel's face, as it almost quizzically asks 'puk kyu?'. The moment I saw the squirrel pointing spastically, with daftest face you will ever see, in-sync with its master in the end credits, I knew it was wuv. It took twelve episodes for the damned thing to actually appear in the series proper (every episode I would internally ask myself, "WHER SQUIRREL!?"), but once it did, it did not disappoint. But even I was not prepared for the barrage of squirrel random daftness the series had in-store. So, ye' be warned: do not drink and watch! Lesson learned.

Now, as well as questioning my undoubted manliness (and sanity), you might be somewhat curious why I am going on about a squirrel, instead of actually reviewing the series. Well, there is a reason beyond squirrel moe: the tone of the series overall and how the squirrel silliness reflects the combination of depressing subject matter and the "romantic-panic" style humour that the author manages to combine with it. When Akatsuki first started airing, it had an average of 7.40. Even I was not terribly excited about it. But with each episode, the average has steadily increased each week. And I think the reason for this is, quite simply, that people were initially unsure what to make of it. The series begins with spazzy humour, with a hint of seriousness, then ends with blood and death. One minute, happy thoughts. The next, hopeless despair. Most people would be put off by this contrast and prefer something more... grim overall.

HOWEVER, the series - and author's - greatest strength is making a story of betrayal and exile into one with a 'feel good' vibe. The oriental-themed instrumental soundtrack does a superb job of adding an epic scope and retaining narrative focus, whilst the humour breaks up what would otherwise be a despairing trudge through a land in political turmoil. I was able to enjoy seeing the Yona's growth as Hak teased her in a manner a sarcastic git such as myself approves of, rather than be weighed down by doom & gloom. And the combination defies common sense by working surprisingly well... once I adjusted to it. It is not as if all of the humour is of typical anime 'freak out' variety, either: my favourite parts being Hak's sarcastic deadpan comments and the dry bits; such as when a character asked someone what will happen if they are not who the other person thinks they are, followed by silence and the other character continuing as if the question had not been asked. Comedy is ALL about timing, and Akatsuki Yona nails that. Mostly.

~Charcterisation~

Akatsuki Yona's positives are not just limited to comic timing and squirrels: the characterisation, which I am happy to report is largely free of the internal monologue NO anime has made me come to hate of late, is a major plus. But, first, I feel a need to point out that A HUUUGE chunk of my affection for the series stems from how similar it is to two entries in the forever loved/unknown video game series, Suikoden. It takes the 'best friends become enemies in a medieval war' plot of Suikoden II, blends that with the 'parents murdered; prince on the run' plot from Suikoden V and also gives a nod towards the main theme of Suikoden: warriors gathering under the one with the power to rule/conquer as decreed by fate. And I can not deny that these links to one of very few things in existence I could be described as fanboy over makes me a tad bias, no matter how critical I am. But there is no denying that Akatsuki's characterisation is very, very good where it matters.

Instead of a pantomime villain that cackles as he murders in order to gain power, Su-won actually wants to make the nation stronger and did what he did for what he perceives to be the greater good. The previous king was opposed to violence/killing and considered a coward, and the neighbouring countries were becoming an increasing threat whilst he did nothing. On the flip-side, the previous king was a good man and loving father, and Yona can not help but feel nothing but hatred for the man she once - and may still - love. Neither of them are truly wrong and both have valid justification for their actions, and that 'greyzone' is what makes the series so compelling and human; even with the anime humour. When the two encounter each other again, much later, I felt the skin on my face prickle as I could almost feel the emotion conveyed by Yona's cold-rage, frozen eyes. Yona can be a crybaby and Su-won's cunning can sometimes get lost behind his Griffith-esque shoujish facade of playful ignorance but, on the whole, their characters and the love/hate relationship they share kept me hooked throughout the show, even as it focused heavily on subplots.

The supporting cast are far more mixed, ignoring the squirrel's +10 eccentric curiosity. My favourite non-squirrel character, Hak, is always at the ready with playful sarcasm - usually directed at Yona - and fulfills his role as the sarcastic love interest with a heart of gold/silver. His loyalty to Yona as her protector may be a little... shoujo but I do like how he balances his - at this point - one-sided affection for Yona with his role as her bodyguard. The reincarnated dragon warriors are more hit and miss. The author tried to make each one unique, with their own ability and quirk, yet ended up making them a tad stereotypical as a consequence. Ki-ja is the naive, simple-minded hot-head with a claw-arm ability; Shin-ah is the silent masked squirrel master with an eye ability; Jae-ha is the playboy with a kicking ability and, finally, Zeno is introduced in the very last episode in a comical '...after all that searching for the other three, the last finds us straight away?' kind of way. His quirk is eating lots of food and playing the fool in spite of being sharp. Zeno aside, they all receive decent development time - most of the series is, after all, dedicated to finding and recruiting them - but only maybe Jae-ha has a personality worth remembering.

What the series did manage to convey well was the difference in circumstance between each of the dragon warriors. where as Ki-ja had a clan formed around himself that worshiped each reincarnation, Shin-ah was treated like a monster by his people and hidden away. I would go as far as to say Shin-ah's unhappy back-story convinced me the series was not going to turn into an artificial shoujo happy place that would make me want to punch myself in the face repeatedly. And Jae-ha's reluctance to have his will dictated by fate and serve someone he did not know impressed... even if the outcome was inevitable. The problem is, it is their roles in the story rather the characters themselves that stand out. They are no more than props with superpowers, at this point. There is another character that joins Yona's 'man-harem' - a ladyboy healer called Yun - but there is little to say about him beyond he looks like a girl and cross-dresses as one, later. Along with the squirrel. Seriously.

~Pacing & Progression~

Where Akatsuki Yona does sadly fall short is its story... or, more specifically, the pacing of its story. Years ago, I tried reading the manga, and with few chapters translated at the time it just did not grab me beyond the opening shock-twist. Possibly because I was unaware of the squirrel. The lulls between events eventually lead to me marathoning episodes, instead of watching as they aired; in spite of the series being one of the best I have seen in recent years. And this will no doubt be one of the main negatives people view the series as having. The premise is definitely intriguing but, in 24 episodes, not a whole lot happens. Yona escapes, hides, escapes again, starts her quest searching for dragon warriors, finds them... the end. Sandwiched in-between is a mini-arc for Su-won that explores his character and the setting a little, which was most welcome, but that is basically it. Certainly not as eventful as one would expect after watching the first episode.

On the surface the story, though compelling, is a fairly plain one, and this is not helped by the complete focus on Yona's characterisation over fleshing out the world and plot progression. For someone like me that values characterisation above all else, it is not something that irks me THAT much, but for others it will be an issue. The few glimpses into the world come from Yona's gradual realisation that her father, whilst a good man, was a weak ruler... but these are handled poorly towards the end. For instance, a corrupt governor is SO corrupt that he openly abuses his people and literally drops beautiful women through trapped doors (safe, that) to sell them as sex slaves. It was great for Yona's character to grow through this encounter but it just felt very one-dimensional and forced; painting the setting as an unrealistic one for the sake of giving her character a straightforward good>evil path. The bad guy was such a bad guy he NEEDED to state how he enjoys women when they are obedient, and other cliched villain arsehole dialogue. And then you throw in pirates that refuse to kill / shouojism and it hurts my head/immersion/makes me want to punch myself. A throwaway plot device villain just does not satisfy when the main plot has yet to inch forward.

As fond as I am of the series, I am cautious as far as my long-term affection goes. As an example of my concerns, at the start Hak was freely slicing - with blood flying - and presumably killing those trying to kill Yona. But as the series progressed, unless a character is so... one-dimensional evil that there is no recourse but to kill them, the characters seem to have taken on an unrealistically pacifistic approach, simply because the dragon warriors are powerful. Which makes little sense in the context of, say, the corrupt governor mentioned above: the people working for him were aware they were involved in human trafficking and doing generally bad things. Yet they got a free pass. I hope I am wrong but I am getting a shoujoish vibe from that aspect, and the author has previous: in NG Life, the lead was once a gladiator - of all things in the universe - that refused to kill. I frowned. I rated it 10/10 anyway but I most certainly frowned.

~Visuals & Audio~

What makes up for the story failings is the presentation. The easiest way to judge the budget a show has - assuming it does not have movie animation - is episode-to-episode art consistency. And Akatsuki Yona is consistently beautiful. When you are told Yona's hair is beautiful, you believe it because of the way the scene uses colour / the dawn theme. And when you see the almost reflective gem-like detail Yona's purple eyes have, there is no doubt she is beautiful enough for Hak to risk his life protecting her. There is also the attention to detail: the almost super-deformed, dot-eyed comedy skits and, in some cases, things like a JRPG 'lost in dungeon' parody. Those in charge of the anime were clearly aware the humour is the series' greatest strength, and they did everything they could to enhance it visually as it made the journey from page to screen, whether by having the squirrel doing silly things such as swinging on/attempting to eat earrings in the background or just general creative stylisation. But what truly sold me on the series visually was the wonderful usage of colour. It can look unimpressive when everything is bright, but when there is a contrast during dark scenes - probably intentionally due to the dawn theme - it impresses. What does disappointment me slightly is how the manga art was made to look slightly more... generic shoujo. The author created my favourite manga, so I know her art well, and she draws with a distinctive pointy-chin style, and very SHARP eyes. Yona looks far plainer in the anime, aside from in a few pivotal scenes towards the end.

The true 'WOW' moment of the show is episode six's sakuga animation. Seeing Hak swing his spear so freely, in such a desperate situation, after previously only seeing speed-lines and limited animation, blew me away. TV budget animation... then, all of a sudden, movie fluidity. Nothing else in the show came close to it, both in terms of the intensity of the fight and animation, but it will remain in my memory as a standout anime moment. Reminiscent of THAT outnumbered spear fight in 'Seirei no Moribito'.

Perhaps even more impressive than the budget attentiveness, the soundtrack is truly wonderful: capturing the emotion of every single scene whilst not being overwrought. It drives home that you are watching an Asian period piece, rather than a squirrel comedy, with every piece of its instrumental music. Hiring the composer of the more-serious-yet-very-similar 'The Twelve Kingdoms' was a very wise move indeed. The music grounds the series in its setting and carries the emotional undercurrent, whilst the humour prevents the emotionally charged tunes from becoming overbearing. Also, although I initially found Yona's Japanese voice to be annoying and... weird, after awhile it grew on me. The spoiled princess; naive sincerity; cuteness; determination; desperation... all of this is captured perfectly by her voice. One of my favourite Japanese voice acting performances, perhaps.

In addition, what sold the show to me in the beginning was its first opening. The visual style reminded me of Suikoden II's EPIC still-image montage, and the visuals truly came into their own once the faux-3D effect was randomly added to it as the episodes released. But far more noteworthy was the choice of music: a non-vocal background track, composed for the show. Not some edgy J-Pop theme--something that actually fit. Sadly, later on the first opening was replaced by what I can only describe as a 'GIRL POWA' track designed to appeal more to the target demographic. It was ok, and I liked that the lyrics were wrote for the show, but still somewhat alienating to males such as myself, where as the first opening can only be described as epic. My cheeks tingled with excitement every time I watched it. The two endings were less memorable, with the second fitting the show better than the first.

~Summary~

Overall, the series impressed me to such an extent that it made me review it semi-seriously. And for a lazy one-finger-typing sod such as myself, there can be no higher praise on this Earth.
The humour transforms what would have been bland into something else entirely; especially when paired with the anime's directional focus on its comedy aspect. What could have been an adventure of misery becomes one that should put a smile on even the coldest of squirrel hating faces, whilst retaining interest in where the political intrigue will eventually - hopefully - lead to; aided by an outstanding soundtrack that fits the series and its setting like a glove. The artwork consistency and squirrel activity convinced me the production was a labour of love for the staff and I am happy that the first manga Kusanagi has had animated was adapted with such care.

In the author's earlier work, NG Life, she made a reincarnation tragedy about Pompeii's volcanic end into a romantic comedy that was equal parts tear-inducing and amusing. So, a medieval warfare epic that fills one's heart with warmth was a given, really. It has its flaws - chugging along pace-wise and not striking an ideal balance between death/funny - but I am just happy it is not another anime sequel that makes me want to beat my head against the nearest available wall--for that, I eagerly await season 2. But, until then, I shall use my 'squirrel wearing a dress' avatar with pride.

I STRONGLY recommend any males reading this put their reverse harem cringe fears aside and just enjoy hearing a squirrel saying "puk kyu". Assume that the squirrel is not quite as happy with his travel party as its face suggests and laugh you shall. That is the path to enjoyment.

:: Intro & Narrative ::
"I am human, therefore nothing human is alien to me." - Terentius

Some manga fly under the radar. Especially those by authors with no other popular works that are based on novels from well over a century ago. And seinen titles generally just receive a lot less attention than series aimed at younger demographics. HOWEVER, A Falsified Romance deserves better. The art is outstanding, the story is thrilling and the dialogue thought-provoking. A psychological profile of a killer disconnected with life, complete with an accurate representation of the human mind, this is a manga that offers everything.

First of all, an ... explanation is needed. In 1866 the Russian novel 'Crime and Punishment' was released. A Falsified Romance is a modern Japanese re-imagining of this novel. Key plot points remain the same but the circumstances are changed in order for Japanese readers to better relate. The best example of this is how two common problems that plague Japanese society - the hikikomori phenomenon (reclusion) and schoolgirl prostitution - get combined to replace a plan to rob a pawn-broker. The lead's complex thought processes and the end result remain the same, but little else. Even the Yakuza play a role. You could read a Wikipedia summary for the novel and apply the novel's structure to the manga, so it is a faithful adaptation in that sense, but going from mid-19th century Russia to 21st century Japan obviously required A LOT of editing. Most modernisation aspects worked well, but an implausibly dumb school gang-rape scenario further down the line weighed the series down with unbelievable drama.

'A Falsified Romance' is a title sure to make people curious. So, what does it refer to? A romance started under a false pretense, perhaps? Surprisingly, it does not matter until the latter stages of the manga. First and foremost, the series is a psychological thriller. It is about committing a crime, the guilt and fear that follows, and finally redemption. And it is redemption where the 'falsified romance' factors in. The narrative can almost evenly be broken up between these three plot points, leading to a somewhat uneven flow that makes the direction equal parts unpredictable and gripping. Unless you are familiar with the original work, you will be left eagerly flipping pages, trying to discern what path the plot will follow, whilst also being a bit lost as to what the focus is. The first section of the story focuses almost solely on thrills as the lead attempts to pull off the perfect crime, only for everything possible to go wrong. The second deals with the fear and paranoia in the immediate aftermath, leading to a flashback that explains what lead the lead to become so desperate. The third is where the rails start to come off as the series starts 'spinning its wheels' during a period where a vitally important character is introduced: the other half of the 'romance'.

-----

:: Characterisation & Emptiness ::
"You have your philosophy and ideas, but it is all useless in the real world. You can not even face a naked woman without running. You are not interested in people at all. How can you write about people when you do no not even care a little about them? I will say it again: that is why you are empty." - Kai Sudo

The series opens with its lead, Miroku Tachi, already living alone as a recluse in an apartment in Tokyo. He survives on the money his equal parts beautiful and kind older sister (oblivious to his current lifestyle) sends him and is tormented by guilt over his failure to live up to the expectations placed on him. His sister marrying for money - mainly to support him - after having already sacrificed much of her life to raise him pushes him over the edge, with a hint of jealously coming from his sister complex. You do not learn why he became reclusive until after he executes his plan and commits the crime. In his mind, this is his last chance to stop his sister sacrificing herself by stealing money, whilst proving himself worthy as a human by getting rid of vermin for the greater good.

Miroku has an artistic idealism that serves to distance himself from others. A flashback to his university days highlighted both his intellect (realising it was pity) and social failings (making a scene) when he threw a part-time job offer given by a classmate in his face; in public. He wants to be a writer, and he writes about people without understanding them. His first attempt at a novel - a book about how a killer thinks - is described as empty by a character that acts as Miroku's counterpoint and, later, inspiration: Sudo Kai. He tells Miroku to live life before writing about it, mocking him. Hell is paradise, according to Sudo, whilst Miroku represses his desires out of fear of being tainted by the world's depravity. Miroku has a cynical, nihilistic view of the world and fears the impurities of desire as a consequence of his upbringing.

As the above should highlight, what sells the series is Miroku's character and how his development is handled. It is a fascinating character study. He looks down on others and is highly intelligent--crafting a complicated plan to rob and kill, after months of preparation... yet he is only human, and no plan is perfect. All the time he was planning, he was doubting whether he had it in him to kill. And every little oversight comes back to haunt him. After committing the act, his mind freezes. He panics and does incredibly stupid things, like not locking a door, only realising the arrogant stupidity of his actions after the fact. Every aspect of his failure makes him come across more human. He tries to justify his actions by using the book he wrote, which states how exceptional people shed blood for a greater cause, but the harder he tries the more he sees his own folly.

-----

:: Art & Flaws::
"My God, is this me? These eyes, this dead stare... I killed. This is the face of a murderer." - Miroku Tachi

Moving away from the characterisation, the most eye-catching positive is the artwork. The dead eyes of Miroku; the bags under his eyes; the stubble growing on his chin--the art captures his psychological state beautifully. There is a moment early on and another later where Miroku looks at himself in a mirror and is shocked by what he sees. And the reader can understand why. The best of the art comes in the full/double-page shots during the more dramatic moments, such as when Miroku holds a cleaver above his head, ready to swing down. But what really caught my eye was the shading, such as when Miroku turns towards the 'camera' and you see his face completely shrouded in darkness; reflecting his mind. Or more subtle shading, such as the lines under his eyes, or even the usage of light & dark. It sets the mood and atmosphere wonderfully. And the art style itself, along with the realistic proportions, is very attractive. In addition, the volume covers rank among the best I have seen. The front covers and spines are black, with facial close-ups of the cast in colours that vary from volume to volume. Most interesting though is the back covers: they are all fully coloured scenes from the story, most if not all drawn specifically for the purpose of being used as cover art.

What lets the art, as well as the characterisation, down a little is how... one-dimensional the more sinister supporting cast are drawn. A cruel school girl character, for example, always has a one-sided smirk and small eyes that leave no doubt about her evilness. Where as Miroku is drawn to show he is emotionally complex, all you see is what you get from her. A little more subtlety artistically would have made how gruesome the crime was a lot harder to stomach. The same could be argued about Sudo with his one-sided smirk but, in his case, the amount of dialogue and the depth of what he conveyed made him more than the sinister smirker he initially appeared to be. Basically, I think the author went a little too far at times with graphic novel exaggerations in a story about dealing with the very real repercussions of taking lives. Nowhere near as over the top as, say, in Battle Royale, but still...

Far more troubling is the direction - or lack of - the series seemed to have after its opening 'murder & memories' sections. Two new characters were immediately introduced: a former teacher and his former student wife. The latter of the two needed to be introduced for the series' title to make sense and to help draw the story to a close, but the flashback involving teacher blackmail, gang-rape and the porn industry that followed was absurd, to put it mildly. And then the series finds itself in a loop where the police suspect Mikuro but have no evidence and Mikuro remains in despair over how badly his plan backfired. Basically, the plot comes to a standstill. Even more irksome was how characters that appeared in flashbacks, with their roles seemingly finished, randomly turned up to see Mikuro in the present. One of the characters being a wanted fugitive that, last we saw, had formed a harem of underage girls in some obscure foreign country. Thankfully, the multi-chapter confession scene that came just before where I was able to read up to was excellent and re-added some much needed focus, and I am hoping the series retains its earlier brilliance as it edges toward its conclusion.

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:: End & Finish ::
"It was not love. Her feelings for me were nothing but hate, anger, fear and contempt. But what really drew her towards me was the pity she felt for someone deeply unhappy. I should have found that humiliating, that she was only interested in me for that reason. But, strangely, it filled me with warmth and tenderness." - Miroku Tachi

I would have preferred to do this after the translation is finished and after reading the source material. But, given how stop-start-cancel lengthy manga translation projects for unknown seinen titles understandably are, I felt a need to do this sooner rather than later. And, should my opinion change considerably after finishing, I will edit my score and/or review to reflect that. Under 300 ratings at the time of typing is shockingly low for something of this caliber; even just in terms of the art. Manga adaptations of classic literature are not terribly common. There is actually a three volume manga called 'No Longer Human' that deals with the same subject matter as A Falsified Romance AND is also a modern re-imagining of a classic piece of literature. It is also as unread and unknown as what I am reviewing. Both series deserve to be read, and I am hoping a few people at least see the title, description and/or score and read it.

In closing, let me say this: as of yet unfinished (in English) and flawed though this 'inspired by' adaptation is, it combines excitement with food for thought with effortless ease. It begins as a hopelessly addictive page-turner that pulls you into the world of an intelligent yet distant from reality character, as he embarks on the path to insanity by trying to figure out how to murder someone without getting caught. Then it fills in the blanks and follows through on the hints about its lead's past, with some disturbing arguments about just what it is to be human. It is not unusual for a chapter to consist entirely of one conversation, which is to say the dialogue is both intense and well-written, on the whole. The plot does stumble here and there as its narrative switches between plotting a murder to how a person copes after murdering but, ignoring the intrusive supporting cast subplots, the quality is consistently high. If you are looking for a psychological exploration married to thrills, look no more.

Titles do not usually hold much - if any - meaning. But in the case of Broken Blade, which is better known in Engrish as 'Break Blade' (BB), the title refers to the broken blades visible on the head and back of Rygart's (the lead & pilot) robot. The titular broken blades also - symbolically - link into Rygart's character. One of the two things they symbolise is how broken as a person he is in Break Blade's universe due to his "unsorcerer" (can not manipulate quartz / use technology) limitations. The other is how mentally broken he becomes as he goes from being pacifistic ... to the extent he refuses to fight back when hit to killing in a war. What they SHOULD NOT also be able to symbolise is how its adaptation is so hopelessly broken that it is better to skip it ALMOST entirely. Never before has an anime title been quite so depressingly accurate...

A blank TV slot in 2014 for twelve episodes? Easy money wanted? THE SOLUTION: Copy & paste six OVA-movies from 2010-2011; splitting the 50 minute episodes into 20x2. To hell with there being no time to correct the anime original rushing / alterations from the movies that required a remake in the first place, much less fit in all of the content from the movies. JUST DO IT!... Insanity is said to be repeating the same actions and expecting different results. And the sad thing is, I would prefer this series to be an act of insanity. Or outright stupidity, even. Better that than laziness driven by greed.

Before anything else, let me make this clear: I, Aion, like BB. *A LOT*. In the same way that Evangelion stands out from the 'mecha' (neither Eva or BB are strictly MECHANICAL) crowd by being almost anti-mecha due to its psychological breakdown / post-traumatic stress disorder approach to piloting, so too does BB. It is not a series where a teenage boy has always dreamed of piloting a walking war machine and then learns some harsh lessons about war along the way. Instead, it is a series where an unwilling young adult, lacking in discipline and mental strength, as well as natural talent, forces himself to fight when he has no desire to do so. What follows the battles is never triumph; it is despair. The lead, Rygart, had been a farmer before discovering that only he - a social outcast due to a rare inability to manipulate quartz in world where 99.9% of people can - can control an ancient robot. The very reason he is an outcast with no loyalty to his nation proves to be the reason he ends up fighting in a war for his nation. A tragic irony that illustrates just what type of series BB is--a series that refuses to glorify or paint an heroic gloss over war. And I would not have it any other way... which is why it is a pity I can not say the same for this anime!

::Manga vs. Movies vs. TV::

Now, stay with me as I *TRY* to make sense of this for those in the dark, with as few spoilers as possible:

There is a fan favourite bishie-psycho character called Girge. He is CRITICAL to the eventual mental breakdown AND growth of Rygart; post-anime especially. In the movies, the best part of the series - a Girge 1 vs. 6 fight - was cut. Worse yet, what occurred immediately after was also cut. This created numerous issues with the series going forward, including even the end of anime fight, and not just in terms of how the fight played out (kicking intelligence vs. swinging shuriken). The meaning was changed to such an extent that the fight ends in the manga with people cheering for Rygart as he laughs in an insane manner... to silence and Rygart passing out in the movies. Other, even more problematic issues include the movies COMPLETELY removing the Krishna-Orlando political intrigue, as well as turning a LENGTHY siege where Krishna tried to hold out in their capital into a nonsensical last stand where Athens' army LITERALLY ran in a straight line and jumped over the walls in one attack. An elaborate faux betrayal 'lure them in' strategy was removed in favour of a time-saving CHARGE! and Rygart swinging a gigantic weapon around like an angry monkey. And, NATURALLY, the Orlando content is important if there is any hope for a sequel. Orlando did not even arrive to help! Practically everything from (roughly) ch35-51/52 in the manga got cut and/or butchered; dialogue replaced with rushed stupidity.

So, now we come to this 'TV version', some 3-4 YEARS after the movies, with the promise of putting right past mistakes. The 12 episode length should have been a warning. There was ZERO new content in episodes 1-9. Everything copy & pasted from the movies. NOTHING to identify the TV version as its own entity. Not even touch-ups or remixed music. Episode nine (where things NEEDED to start changing) ended with Rygart moronically charging after Girge during an ambush, just as he did in the movies. Even the fate of Rygart's village in the same episode was not altered. Episode ten *DID* add THE Girge fight.... however, episode nine had made it made it clear that any changes would be entirely superficial. And this proved to be the case: all that was added was the fight and a THIRD CANON event (in episode 11) that held no value whatsoever without changing the circumstances surrounding those events. You see, in the manga Girge and Rygart are captured immediately after the fight. And what plays out in this scene will forever haunt Rygart. In both the movie and TV versions, Rygart falls off a cliff and never learns what happens. The animation studio went for an easy fix, not wanting to fully re-animate, and failed to even paint over the cracks. A facepalm worthy accomplishment, for sure.

EVERYTHING else in the 'TV version' played out the same as in the clusterfuck movies 5-6's 'sprint to the end; THE HELL WITH DETAILS--CUT!' finale. Not surprising since more episodes and TOTALLY re-animating everything from Rygart's return to his village (ep9/movie5 onwards) was required, but still... Rygart relied on brute strength / luck in the climatic battle via swinging a yo-yo of doom, followed by his believed-to-be-dead-in-the-anime little brother JUST HAPPENING to walk up to him at the end, immediately after the climatic battle at the end of a war (not at all forced). Then, bizarrely, Rygart does what I assume was supposed to be the insane laughter from the manga; it coming across more like relief than a psychotic release due to the timing. And as a parting shot, the show even managed to rub salt in at the last by ending with 'Goodbye!' instead of 'See you again in season 2!'. I can not wait for the third attempt at a BB anime that MIGHT actually adapt the manga so there can be a sodding sequel. CAN. NOT. WAIT.

::Other Complaints::

-- Rygart's Characterisation:
In the manga Rygart still does actions that can be described as stupid, but he also saves the people from his village AND learns enough from Girge to fight in the final battle using skill rather than brute force. In both anime, he disobeys orders to go save his village - failing to save anyone - and he fights brainlessly in the final battle--leaving viewers with the impression he risked lives without saving any and remained useless. There is no sense of 'Wow, he saved lives!' or 'HE IS GETTING BETTER!', and this leads to people hating the character, which is unfortunate given that he is one of the more interesting characters due to his struggles and how he starts to go off the deep end later.

-- The Girge Fight
The best part of the manga, which was skipped in the movies. It was added to the TV version. It is the ONE positive to come out of... this. But I was not impressed, OF COURSE. With no budget whatsoever having been spent in the 9.5 episodes that came before, I expected the entire budget to be dumped into this one fight. Maybe with a new epic piece of music to distinguish it from the rest of the action. Instead, I just got speed-lines and re-used music. So, rather than a reward for enduring, it came across more like a final insult. "We will spend ten minutes on the scene, dutifully, but we will treat it like just another scene." That is how it made me feel. And, maybe because of nostalgia and/or the disappointment, I felt NONE of the manga tingles I recall from when I read the fight in the manga and was left in awe... even though action is the weakest aspect of the manga due to it being hard to follow. It just left me indifferent.

-- The Opening: Junction Heart
Almost anyone that has heard the movie opening by Kokia (Fate) and watched the visuals it is paired with ends up emotionally moved. The song is beautiful, granted, but the real reason for this is that it gives an insight into what sort of series BB is, with an anti-war vibe given by the direction and the music giving a sense that the human condition is going to come under examination in the show. Junction Heart, on the other hand, as you might expect with such a generic name / HEART is... well, generic. The song is vaguely uplifting / exciting average action anime fair, while the visuals consist entirely of facial close-ups from the re-used OVA, a 'zoom through characters' part re-used from the Kokia opening... and brief bits from the ONE new fight scene. It is THAT lazy. And the ending 'animation'? One massive page of character stills panned from left to right. Not even worth mentioning. NO EFFORT.

-- 50-to-40 Scene Removal / Shortening
Honestly, this did not bother me TOO MUCH. But it was always a background issue. A second adaptation should never offer LESS; even more so when simply copying & pasting from the first adaptation. The earliest example I noticed was when Rygart talked to Narvi and they cut the dialogue from the scene; just briefly showing them interacting. That was the strategy: cut as many corners as humanly possible in order to make it fit. The one episode where it was really noticeable was the one where Rygart trained and Girge was introduced. It jumped around so much that it was confusing to see what happened to General True when it switched to him, having cut the first part. Many others commented on this particular episode.

::Closing::

Just to be CRYSTAL clear, this is NOT a 'purist hates anime adaptation; RAGE' review. How can it be when I rated the movies 8-8-8-7-7-6 and this 'TV version' is a slightly abridged version of those same movies? No, what this is is a 'Break Blade fan HATES anime inexplicably COPYING a flawed adaptation, which required a remake, 3-4 years later for an easy cash-grab' review. People new to BB, much like myself when I watched the movies, regard the series highly and will see my score as being 110% unfair. But they are not seeing the full picture: they did not watch this same content years ago, then read the manga and - after getting their hopes up - wait years to see logic defied by having the same mistakes repeated anew, with only 10-15 minutes of new content. Not re-drawn, not re-animated, not re-scored: just ONE fight and meaningless death added. Hopefully this is the first and last time I get to experience a 'second adaptation' (/having an editor copy from the OVA) that fits in even less content whilst not fixing any of the problems created by the first adaptation. It hurts my brain just thinking about the pointlessness. It is as if the animation studio were so incompetent that they attempted to fix the problems without having read the manga. That is the only conclusion I can draw from the way the scene in ep11 was... executed. And I can not decide if that is more offensive than simply copy & pasting the movies.

When an anime is low budget, creativity is often used to mask it. Break Blade 2014 had neither money nor effort applied to it. It is a recap movie delayed so long that no-one cares; when there is no hope of a sequel--a recap movie presented as a TV series that deceives those unaware of the movies. Watch the movies, YouTube the Girge fight and read the manga. Do not even bother with this. It looks pretty for a TV series, it has an epic yet emotional soundtrack... and yet, these positives belong to the original version: not this recap. STAY AWAY... especially if you go into it having watched the movies. Only those new to BB could get anything out of this, and even then it is better to just watch the movies since at least then you are not watching an abridged version of an abridged version!

Tokyopop's parting gift to the manga community was the release of the final volume of this most wonderful series, shortly before they ceased to exist. NG Life is not the usual shoujo mush, nor is it just another romantic comedy destined to be forgotten shortly after being read. It is a work that poses the sort of introspective questions essential to all-time classics being remembered as such.

- Can love survive the tests of time; can it even transcend death?
- Can one be forgiven for falling in love with another, after being separated from their beloved?

Make no mistake: NG Life should be read with the reader ... smiling from cheek-to-cheek. However, understanding the tragic undercurrent hiding underneath the laughter is what makes the humour especially touching. There is no joy without pain, and there is no depth to a comedy if it is not grounded by the struggles of life. NG Life is worthy of the highest grade because of the perfect balance between heart-warming comedy and tragedy.

::Story:: (9-9.5/10)

NG Life's lead, Keidai, is a troubled young man. He has always had memories of the days when he was a lion-fighting gladiator/mercenary of Pompeii, some 1,900 years earlier. Married to the most desired woman in the land, the best of friends with a trusted comrade, and with a cute little sister - no man could have been happier than Sirix Lucretius Fronto. However, Pompeii was completely destroyed by a volcanic eruption; everyone dying and poor Sirix not being able to keep his vow to his wife, Serena - leaving her to die all alone, in darkness.

Even more troubling for our most troubled of leads, in his present life as a Japanese high school student, he can not seem to avoid encountering reincarnations of people he knew 1,900 years ago. Whether it is the former whip-wielding, overly-protective older sister of his love (now a womanising man!) or the woman he once loyally served, they are all in close proximity. As happy as Keidai is to be seeing old faces again and finding proof that he is not crazy, he can not help but view his new life as NG (No Good) because of the genders and roles of the people from his memories being altered to the point of mental agony.

His mother? The reincarnation of his little sister. His father? The playboy rival he fought with for the hand of his beloved Serena. His wannabe girlfriend/best friend, Mii? His MALE best friend from his previous life. His next-door neighbor? Naturally, his former wife... who is now a guy called Yuuma, with every intention of developing muscles and winning the heart of Mii. And, of course, it goes without saying that only Keidai happens to remember anything about their time as Italians; Mii listening to (and believing) all of his ramblings, because of the one-sided love she holds for the man who introduced himself to her by crying, hugging and expressing shock over her gender, all at once. (A pick-up technique sure to leave a lasting impression!)

In the hands of another writer, NG Life could very easily have gone in the direction of hard-hitting drama as the present selves of individuals with tragic pasts attempted to avoid repeating the same sins all over again. But that was never the intent of NG Life's author. While the story made me come close to crying and pulled on my heart-strings during some of the sadder parts, the intention was clearly for readers to read with a huge grin on their faces throughout, and - in my case at least - it most certainly succeeded. The only flaw of note is that the story ended rather abruptly; not following the characters as they took their relationships to the next level. But this is a complaint I could throw at practically every series dealing with romance and it would be harsh of me lower my score because of this alone.

::Characterisation:: (10/10)

Keidai may have good looks and athletic skills on top, but he also happens to be a complete dork; much to the delight of manga fans worldwide. Truly, his likeability factor is through the roof because, even though to the unknowing he may appear perfect, his honest stupidity makes him incredibly endearing--as does the Italian playboy confidence he occasionally displays. His tendency to randomly hug those closest to him in his former life - completely oblivious to his identity in the present - leads to much hilarity. His former wife (Yuuma; now male) was his first 'huggle' victim, and he did the same to his former male best friend (Mii; now female). Mii soon realised he had no huggling hidden agenda after he proceeded to treat her like a guy; openly expressing his fondness of her and even denying that they are lovers by suggesting neither of them is female. He also frequently loses himself in thought over the prospect of being led down the path of homosexuality by his reincarnated wife; making agonised poses on his desk in class and amusing his peers greatly by doing so. The girls in his school view him as some sort of comical idol, and it is easy to understand why: few more entertaining characters exist.

As the above should highlight, the most impressive thing about NG Life is the handling of the characters. With the mostly memory-less present selves of the cast being focused on, and their past as Italians only briefly touched upon until the dramatic latter stages, I had no trouble caring about the tender central romance that progresses, bit by bit, between Keidai and the girl he has shared a "friendship alliance" of five years with, Mii. She is such a lovable heroine, always thinking of Keidai's devotion to his former wife and understanding how hard it is for him to convince himself that 'she' is now a 'he' called Yuuma. Her ability to read him, as well as others she is close to, highlights her intelligence and, when paired with Keidai, the chemistry they have makes her genuinely funny. They play off each other wonderfully and, come the end, I had a huge grin on my face as Keidai used some of his Italian charm on Mii -- forcing her usually poker-faced self to flee, blushing from cheek to cheek.

And the above is saying nothing of the supporting cast, whose role in NG Life is significantly more important than is normal. You see, in NG Life each new character reveals a little more of the Pompeii back-story as they become reacquainted with Keidai. This gives each of them a sense of purpose often lacking from other works, where secondary characters tend just to be there for the sake of it. The series only lasts nine volumes, and with each lovable new addition adding something new, there was never any 'mid-series filler' to get frustrated over. In fact, prior to the resolution of the main love story, the love woes of another pairing kept me completely hooked; their personalities and problems differing so much from the leads' that it was a welcome distraction.

::Art:: (9-9.5/10)

The distinctive sharp-chinned art style impressed me with its variation and the life it breathed into the characters' interactions. Like most shoujo, there was not a great deal of background work; most of the time attention only being paid to the characters once the locations had been established. However, there was never a wasted page throughout, with either a wide-range of facial expressions/deformed wackiness or text (NG Life has more text to read than most) preventing me from caring about the typical issues that plague shoujo works. Keidai had internal conversations with himself on numerous occasions, and even those small chunks of comedy gold entertained, so talented is the mangaka.

When judging any kind of art, the most important thing is to be able to FEEL the emotions of the artist just by looking. Even the most technically brilliant of drawings is a failure if it lacks personality and fails to get an emotional response. NG Life's art was bursting with emotion, from start to finish. Kusanagi's characters acted like they wrote their own dialogue, so natural were their exchanges, and the art suggested the characters moved her hand, all on their own. Such natural excellance is a true rarity.

::Overall:: (9.5-10/10)

It is worth noting that NG Life is 110% tasteful. In no way does it pander to those with boyxboy desires, as the read-up may lead some to believe. Whenever Keidai has spaz-attacks over seeing Serena's face through his mind's eye instead of Yuuma's male face, he freaks out in gag-like fashion. Even though his love for Serena is eternal and a source of endless internal conflict for Keidai as he edges closer to the love of his second life, Mii, it is made as clear as can be that he has no interest in men. Not once did my gaydar go off throughout the nine volumes. (In short: fear not, other manly men!)

In closing, NG Life is a fun-filled ride, sure to make most laugh from the bottom of their hearts and - occasionally - cry over the tragedy that haunts characters with memories of Pompeii's final day and all of the betrayal/murder that came with it. It is truly a series with everything; a shoujo that appeals to both genders. The series ending almost immediately after the leads got together was as irritating as ever (typical of a romance story) and Keidai's former self, Sirix, being a gladiator who refused to kill was too shoujoish for my tastes, but these and other minor issues are nowhere near enough to make me reconsider my view that NG Life is the best manga I have read to date. Go read it!

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::Extra // Recommendations::

NG Life is an amalgamation of Please Save My Earth (PSME), Maison Ikkoku and "romantic-panic comedy". From PSME, the past-life/reincarnation aspect and theme of love transcending the boundaries of the flesh was taken. From Maison Ikkoku, the suffering one goes through when separated all too early from a loved one. And these two drama-heavy, tear-jerking themes were then coated with the author's unique charm, which can easily make even the most depressing of subjects absolutely hilarious.

PSME could be described as NG Life's spiritual prequel. Not only are their unusual stories similar, they were serialised in the same magazine: Hana to Yume. I loved both PSME and NG Life, and although how the subject matter is dealt with does differ greatly, I STRONGLY recommend that fans of one of the two give the other a chance.

There is something terribly ironic about me reviewing this surprisingly wonderful attempt at making yaoi fangirls likable and, to a certain extent, understandable. After shedding many manly tears in my attempts to become an infrequent MAL reviewing-person, I eventually retired, following much moaning about MAL being controlled from the shadows by the evil known as the yaoi legion--every horribly typed yaoi review having a near perfect score when I glanced over the latest review offerings. It must surely have been fated in the stars that, not only would a TRULY hilarious series that details the lives of the yaoi fangirls I once hated become a ... favourite of mine, it has no reviews on MAL. How often can a reviewer expect to find a new favourite title without any reviews, on a site as large as MAL? THIS MUST BE MY DESTINY!

I am not going to lie: my oh-so-old, 22-year-old mind cannot follow the the conversations of crazy young girls who rave over this 'uke' and 'seme' business. And as a straight, somewhat hairy male, the mental image of one imaginary ladyboy violating the anus of another does not make for pleasant viewing. But, as much as is possible, Fujoshi Rumi has changed my views on yaoi fangirls, and for someone as stubborn as myself I can offer no greater praise than that.

The tasteful person who recommended the series to me had also recommended High School Girls previously; a series that reveals the truth about the shaving woes of females and proved to be a most educational read. And I can fully understand why she recommended Fujoshi to me now because the series is, basically, a love child of High School Girls and Genshiken. When you combine *somewhat* realistic high school girls with Genshiken's often comical exploration of 'otakuism', what you get is Fujoshi Rumi. So, if you liked either High School Girls or Genshiken, save yourself some time by stopping reading my rambling and, instead, starting Fujoshi, because there is a 99% chance you will love it as much as me. Seeing is believing, as they say.

In case you are curious, four or so paragraphs in, Fujoshi's story is about four characters: two male, two female; two normal guys, two yaoi loving young ladies.

Rumi is an otaku girl who cares not for appearances and often loses herself in her own little BL (boy love) world - she cares not for real men. Abe is in love with Rumi and, in order to win her over, he will do anything - even posing with cat ears. Chiba is Abe's best friend, as well as the school stud, and he often complicates Abe's love life by adding to Rumi's fantasies in an attempt to avoid receiving one love letter per day from his own personal fanclub of hotties. And Matsui, my personal favourite and final main character, is the sexiest girl (G-CUP!!!!!) at school, as well as a closet yaoi fangirl, and she is madly in love with Chiba.

The story gets going in a realistic manner. I am sure, at school, some of you guys (sorry girls; guys only here) have found yourself alone in a classroom with your best friend; examining his nipple hairs... No, you say? Well, whatever: that is what happens when Abe and Chiba are left alone in a classroom... and Rumi JUST SO HAPPENS to spot them with their shirts open. Her imagination runs wild, she accidentally gets a knee in the face by a panicking Abe, Abe offers to pose for her drawings in order to make up for his knee, and hilarity ensues.

It would not be a lie to say that the series pokes fun at those in lust with ladyboys deflowering each other but, much like Genshiken, the true purpose of Fujoshi is to show that even people with obsessive interests in disturbing things are lovable. In fact, Fujoshi goes as far as to suggest that otaku are worthy of respect, as opposed to being disrespected, because of the passion they have for life. I know from personal experience how hard it is to move forward without having any passion for anything, and it made me almost envious to see two people SO enthusiastic about something - laughing, crying, and talking the night away. No matter what anyone else thinks, if you have friends who share your interests and are able to live life to the fullest with them, life starts to look a whole lot brighter, and that is what I think the author of Fujoshi tried to convey with her work. Differences make people unique and draw people together, and different does not always have to be a negative thing.

I started this review by highlighting the irony that follows me wherever I go on my travels, and a certain aspect of Fujoshi's story is deliciously ironic, also, and it goes along nicely with the above paragraph.
Matsui, the big-breasted, long-haired, aggressive but very loving BEST CHARACTER EVER candidate from the series (note: any girl who pushes a guy's buttons, testing his manhood, is a-ok in my mind) was once a fat, glasses-wearing otaku - the sort you cannot help but automatically visualize when you think 'otaku'. In order to fit in, she changed herself; pushing her hobbies away and becoming a drop-dead gorgeous stunner. And, in order to complete her transformation into a 'normal' person, she set her sights on the the #1 boy (Chiba) at her school; hoping to enter into the perfect relationship, in terms of looks. But he rejected her because she was too normal. The irony here is that Chiba only fell in love with Matsui AFTER she reverted back to her true self; expressing her love for boyxboy action - Chiba being amused by her eccentric side and it endearing her to him.

Maybe I am reading too much into it, but I think the author was trying to express with the ChibaxMatsui romance that being true to oneself is better than living as a fake for all of your life in order to qualify as normal. And she is on the ball, if that was indeed her intent.

As you have no doubt gathered from my typing thus far, Fujoshi is primarily a comedy. But it also has a LOT of romance; the vast majority of the comedy resulting from the woes of the main four as they come close to getting it on.
Abe and Rumi's relationship is a little difficult to take seriously due to Abe doing all the chasing while Rumi shows no interest in anything outside of boyxboy action. But, on the flip side, Chiba and Matsui's romance is one of the best I have seen to date. It starts out with her chasing him, then he kinda-sorta starts chasing her, then they have a standoff as they compete over who is going to wear the trousers in their inevitable relationship, and then... well, I will leave that for you to discover! But it is pretty steamy; Matsui taunting Chiba into making him do the tongue dance. Also, it is hilarious how Chiba, typically for a guy, struggles to say the 'L' world but does not struggle to go for boobies and Matsui refuses to lose her virginity out of fear of him only wanted her body, because he cannot say he loves her. In a twisted sense, they are perfect for each other.

Aside from the comedy, romance, and realism, what REALLY sells Fujoshi is its artwork. Typically for a female artist, there is an awful lot of whiteness where backgrounds should be, as well as random dots, but the character art adds to the humour AND highlights just why two normal guys would suffer such hardships, risking their anuses, to get with such weird girls. The horizontal v's for eyes and deformed style change works wonders for the witty, reference heavy (if you happen to be a Gundam fanatic, you will LOVE the dialogue!) comedy bits, and the mangaka is also able to draw sexy girls. As a guy, I cannot help but grade art based on how much my lower brain appreciates how the ladies are drawn, and the way Matsui is sexualized pleased Aion #2. Her lips become juicy, her eyes passionate, her cleavage exposed, and she truly does turn from cute to lust worthy. So, a big +1 for the artwork enhancing both the funny and sexy parts in equal measure. Females know how to draw female characters from experience, I guess!

My main disappointment right now is that it is impossible for me to read further than the third volume in English. Media Blasters released the third volume back in 2008, and it seems like they have been forced to drop the series due to no-one buying it, or even being aware of its existence. Worse still, the only English scans on the net are scans of the volumes Media Blasters released; meaning, unless you understand Japanese or do not care about missing out on all of the witty dialogue, not even the internet can save you. It is a real shame if Media Blasters do not continue releasing the series because, at the back of each volume, there is a detailed list explaining ALL of the references to the anime, manga, and various other Japanese things mentioned--I would have been lost without the help of whoever took the time to explain everything. At this point, all I can do is hope that Fujoshi is not set to join Life and GTO: The Early Years on my list of manga that I will probably never be able to complete...

...In any event, there is little else of value to add. Where as Genshiken focused mainly on the more accepted otaku activities - anime, manga, figurines, models, etc - Fujoshi focuses exclusively on yaoi moe, and the way the subject is handled with both delicacy and humour makes me regard Fujoshi higher than even Genshiken. As far as I am aware, there are six volumes out in Japan, and although it is not possible for me to state whether the high level of quality continues past the third volume, I can say that the first three volumes are up there with the best manga I have ever read. It was consistently entertaining and I often had to hold myself back from laughing out loud. The fact that there are only four characters who get a decent amount of time makes it very easy to care strongly about all four of them, and the romantic drama blends well with the yaoi craziness. Considering the story is about yaoi fangirls and even I, being the manly man I am, was able to favourite it, I seriously doubt there will be too many people who would come away from reading Fujoshi unhappy. Heck, even a person I know online who has the worst taste EVER should be able to appreciate it, so I will be at loss if I should receive an angry message, complaining that my review is misleading. Blame God, rather than me.


Short version of my review:

Guys: In volume three, Matsui is shown naked in the bath; nipples and all. And, GOD, does she ever have BIG, lovingly drawn boobies, complete with space saucer nipples. (If you only care about the boobies, I will hook you up. I would never let a brother in need down.)
Girls: If you pleasure yourself at night while looking at drawings depicting young men being ravaged by other young men, you probably need to feel better about yourself. Reading about Rumi will make you feel better about yourself. Trust me.


Extra: Despite being a manly man, I run away from bees. This is a sad but very true fact. That said, I cannot tell you how reassuring it was to see Abe afraid of a cockroach when he was asked by Rumi to deal with it. I think I would honestly need therapy if I was alone in a house with a cockroach... spiders are bad enough. I AM NEVER GOING TO JAPAN!


Unless I happen to find another favourite that lacks a review, this will be my final-final review. DO NOT EVER TRY TO TALK ME OUT OF IT!... Well, ok, everyone needs love once in awhile. A nice message or two would not go amiss. Maybe even three.

"When I saw the pictures and the explanation of the story, I thought it was a coarser, scarier and darker anime. But once we started, I realized it had less violence and more heart." - Mie Sonozaki

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Before anything else, you need to understand the following: Witchblade is, first and foremost, a character-driven drama, rather than an action series. It has some fighting, yes, but the vast majority of the episodes are spent focusing on character development. Everything else comes a distant second. At first the suggestion is that it's going to be a The Devil Lady, 'monster of the week' type, and that is simply ... not true.

Marketing Witchblade as a violent, fan-service heavy title was foolish. Taking the title of a popular American comic and then creating an entirely different story, with an all-new cast, was not exactly the wisest of moves. By attempting to pass-off a slow-paced, heartfelt and very human drama as a generic action title with added boobs, all Gonzo achieved was getting the wrong type of viewers; pushing away people more likely to appreciate a family drama about a mother loving her daughter with all of her heart and being willing to do anything for her.

Judging the series based on the revealing Witchblade forms and boob sizes, it's hard not to expect an utterly tasteless anime. But you know what? Sex only occurs ONCE during the entire series, and NOTHING gets shown--the two involved kiss and then it's the morning after. That pretty much sums Witchblade up: there's a lot of cleavage but, that aside, Witchblade is surprisingly tasteful. In truth, there isn't even a huge amount of action once series gets past the introduction period.

:: Story :: 6/10

Six years prior to the start of Witchblade, Tokyo had been left devastated by a catastrophic earthquake. Two people were found alive at the ground zero of the quake: a 17-year-old woman (later named Masane; her having lost all of her pre-disaster memories) and a baby (Rihoko). Only the maternity diary held by the woman pointed towards them being related...

Once the series gets going, the two are heading back to Tokyo on the run; desperate to stay together and not be separated by the child welfare organization (created after the quake, to 'help' children). As jobless Masane struggles to keep Rihoko, she encounters the 'monster' responsible for a string of nasty murders, and that's when what had been sleeping within her for six years awakens--the power of the 'Witchblade'; something that has existed since the beginning of time, selecting its (female) hosts and forcing its hosts to give into their lust and destructive urges. Masane then gets caught between two organizations who seek the Witchblade, ending up working for one (Douji: a major weapons supplier) to support her life with Rihoko and hunted by the other (NSWF: in charge of the child welfare organization and with links to genetic research).

I'll be honest here: the story of Witchblade is full of anime silliness, ranging from fat men disguised as killer microwaves, genetic experiments, and women who use 'Cloneblades'--lesser, copied versions of the ever mysterious Witchblade. It's never explained why the weapons Masane hunts target random females, or why the Witchblade only selects women as 'hosts'... or what the Witchblade actually is. And I couldn't help but see most of the twists coming in advance; the writers actually intentionally spelling out how the series would end in order to impact on the viewers' feelings progressively rather than shock them.

While it does have a B-movie sort of entertainment factor in its favour, if I were to score Witchblade based only on its story, it wouldn't be very flattering... But this is where the negative ends because, like I've already pointed out at the start, the characters are where it's at. The story is no more than a means to an end; the backdrop for lots of excellent drama.

:: Characterisation :: 9.5/10

Masane (nicknamed 'Melonie' because of her boob size!), the lead of the story, has nothing going for her apart from her six-year-old daughter, Rihoko. She isn't incredibly sharp, has no skills of note and, really, only has her love for her daughter. The child welfare organization try to separate them; Masane's ability to transform into a scantily-clad, sexulized version of herself (thanks to the mysterious Witchblade attached to her wrist) puts her in danger and powerful corporations involve her in their troubles, but, no matter what stands in her way, she fights to protect and give a better life to the one she loves the most.

Loud, simple-minded, direct type of characters tend to be hard to like and easy to hate, but Masane is very endearing. There are many simple things that made her into a likable character, such as when she went into a blind panic after learning that her daughter had been hurt; Masane ending up running out of her apartment barefoot. She's often called a primate by her 'boss', Takayama, because of how she acts without thinking and says what's on her mind, but that's what's so lovable about her: her honesty, maternal instincts and selflessness. It's little surprise that she eventually wins over even Takayama with her natural personality as the series progresses - she's just impossible to not like and respect.

The supporting cast backing up Masane aren't too shabby, either. Rihoko basically 'mothers' her own mother by shopping, cooking and caring for the more absent-minded Masane, and her being so mature at such a young age makes her have instant likability. Takayama plays the role of Masane's stern and somewhat awkward middle-aged boss, giving her orders to hunt down rogue 'weapons' for money, and it's his banter with her that provides much of the comic relief--the two later also becoming much closer; the writers doing a wonderful job of humanizing him and showing his softer, caring side as the series progresses. The rest of the cast are less developed and involved than the main three but all play important roles; the residents where Masane and Rihoko live, though never getting much time individually, are responsible for the 'family atmosphere' always being in the air during the more relaxing periods, for example.

:: Art / Animation + Sound:: 8/10

The first thing that made me think, 'Wow, Witchblade might not be so horrible, despite the title and fan-service!' was its opening. I watched/listened to the opening by chance, and as soon as I heard the fast-paced, exciting beat and saw the visuals that accompanied the music, which included a close-up of Masane's eye and a tear coming out of it, I just knew I had to watch it. The first opening is THAT good--even the 'GIVE ME YOUR XTC!!!' lyrics going with the show itself. Gonzo went on to regret changing it halfway through since they replaced the far less impressive second opening with the first for the final episode.

In terms of the overall art and animation, the best word to use when describing it is consistent. Why? Because Gonzo are known for running out of budget and forgetting to animate towards the end. This wasn't the case with Witchblade, though, since the final episode featured fluid animation; Gonzo not being reduced to showing movement through lines on the screen and actually showing the characters running. Aside from a few instances of laziness where there wasn't animation and a few stills were linked, it was great to watch. And the art style is both distinctive and attractive. Even Japan's obsession with breast jiggling got attention throughout! Alhough I can't say Masane's HUGE, could-suffocate-with-ease breasts appealed to me personally, overall it did look very nice, with a higher than average budget.

As for the soundtrack, I have to say: it's excellent, as expected when the same composer did Claymore. One track that stands out is one used for action quite frequently; a track with an eerie edge and... a woman breathing in an 'erotic' manner in the background - the track having an action-oriented beat. I was ALWAYS pumped for the action - my attention focused - simply because of the music. Towards the end, I recall the intense beat of a track after what had been a nice 'family life' sort of episode, and I just knew some sweet action would be coming my way. If a soundtrack is good enough, it can make something great into something even greater, and that's the case with Witchblade.

:: Overall :: 9/10

Witchblade has its flaws: the story isn't anything special, Gonzo appeared to run out of ideas at the death and just ended it, and the near enough naked girl-on-girl battles might be off-putting for some. However, the good by far outweighs the bad, and the characterization is at such a level that, if you're anything like me, you won't give a toss. Once the introduction was over and time had been given for attachment to the characters to form, I was too engrossed in their struggles to concern myself with negative thoughts about a robotic monster with the head of a bug and the like.

To sum it all up: If you go into Witchblade expecting nothing, you might just get everything in return. It's always rewarding to find a gem, and in my eyes Witchblade is a gem that deserves to have more people look at it. Do yourself a favour and watch it!

Ikigami is a surprisingly unknown title about the value of life... or maybe it's actually about how worthless life is. It depends on your perspective. But, whichever way you look at it, the following is true: Ikigami shows how very real characters react when told they're going to die within 24 hours. Some seek revenge, others try to help their loved ones before their time runs out. Just like if people were told their date of death in real life, the reactions of the characters depends entirely on their backgrounds.

After reading the title, you might assume Ikigami is a sort of spiritual successor to Death ... Note. After all, there isn't much difference between 'Death Note' and 'Death Paper'. But the titles are where the similarities between the two start and end. Where as Death Note relied on a supernatural notebook of death that could kill anyone with ease to power its story, there's nothing mystical about the papers with information about deaths written on them in Ikigami. In fact, the papers are no more than normal, everyday paper handed out by civil servants.

You see, Ikigami is set in an alternate universe where Japan is ruled by fear, similar to the setting of Battle Royale. At the start of school life, every child is immunized against various diseases. However, because of a law called 'The National Welfare Act', 1 out of 1000 of these vaccines contain something else - something that makes a person die at a predetermined date between the ages 18-24. After being immunized, the truth is then revealed to the students - the truth being that not everyone will make it very far into their adult lives.

The National Welfare Act is a relatively well thought out law. The victims of the law are told only 24 hours in advance to limit the damage they can do, and if those who are destined to die break the law in their final hours, their family is took to court, made to pay a huge fine, don't get their bereavement pension and, finally, they're ostracized by society.
All of the above, combined with the citizens being told to reveal the names of social miscreants to the authorities, means no-one can do anything about the law. To be a good citizen, one has to accept that - no matter how illogical - random people getting killed is for the good of the country because it forces people to value life. Really, nothing changes for people until they're told they're going to die, and all it achieves is creating a society of sheep who only know how to follow.

The story is told from the perspective of Fujimoto; a civil servant whose job it is to hand out the papers of death 24 hours before death. Known as a 'Messenger of Death', he's a man who sees no value in his work but does it anyway. To begin with he struggles to handle the weight of revealing to unsuspecting people that they're going to die, informing them their deaths are for the good of the nation (when he doesn't actually believe it), but the more he does it the easier it becomes. His role is to be the observer, and the reader is supposed to feel the same as him about what's occurring.

But, really, even though Fujimoto is there for the reader to connect with, Ikigami is basically a collection of three chapter shorts. So far (up to the end of volume three), every story has lasted for three chapters, and each story has differed from the one that came before it. Though the series opened as most would expect after reading the description - with a fairly typical tale of a man who suffered severe bullying during his high school years - since then there's only been one other revenge story. There's been a story about staying true to oneself and valuing friendship over fame; there's been a story about a worker at an old people's' home getting a woman, who mistakes the worker for her late husband, to walk again; and there's even been a story about a brother tricking his blind younger sister into having his corneas transplanted into her just after his death. The huge amount of variation between each story, and the circumstances of each new set of characters, has prevented Ikigami from becoming stale.

My biggest fear right now is that, eventually, Ikigami will become stale, though. At this moment in time I can't see Ikigami failing because the art is near enough flawless - showing the natural ugliness of humans (rather than there being a super model cast) and being very detailed - and the stories have all been emotionally moving for differing reasons. But every author only has a set amount of ideas, and sooner or later (assuming it isn't destined to go on forever!) Fujimoto is going to have to become more than just an impartial observer. Honestly, it's hard to see how and when the series will end at this point, so it's hard to determine if the high level of quality on display in the opening three volumes will remain throughout. Only time will tell.

NOTE: Finished the series, and the end is disappointing. Won't elaborate but I have adjusted my score.

If you've become disillusioned with anime/manga because of the vast majority being childish and are in desperate need of a title aimed at adults to reignite your interest, Ikigami might just be it.

Until yesterday, the title 'Me-Teru No Kimochi' meant nothing to me. And, going on the small amount of ratings it has, many others are still in the dark. After reading all 28 chapters in one sitting, never once feeling bored, my goal is to bring this unknown gem some much needed love.

If you've read 'Welcome to the NHK' then you'll have a decent idea how the story goes: a reclusive guy gets helped out of his shell by a beautiful lady, eventually finding himself able to live a more normal life. The big difference between the two is that, where as it's fairly believable for ... a slightly nutty young(er) girl to want to use a loser for her own interests (NHK), it's pretty... out there for a HUGE breasted, super model type 22-year-old woman to first marry a bald old man (because he looked like her father) and, later, go on to mother/wife his 30-year-old son; a son who has locked himself in his room for 15 years. Where are these selfless 'would die happy after having sex with' women in real life!?

However, if you can get over the basic premise, you're in for something of a treat. Slowly but surely, Haruka - the aforementioned big-breasted lady – attempts to get her reclusive 'son-in-law' out of his room by first trading a notebook that they can communicate with in order to work around his shyness and, later, helping him talk, go out and... well, do 18+ things I'll cover at the end. Early on in particular, there's always comedy preventing the mood from being depressing (just like in NHK), with the reclusive lead plotting how to win the heart of his new 'mother' and, among other things, naming a dog after her in order to practice calling her name affectionately. (Note: The dog and him get pretty close - there's mouth-on-mouth action! If you love your dog more than you should, this is the manga for you!)

Ignoring Haruka's devotion to bald old men and losers, the biggest issue series has is, not surprisingly (for a NHK fan, that is), its ending. It's open-ended and rushed, and it didn't even end very well in terms of the relationship shared by the main two. It wasn't the worst ending known to man, but there are examples of far better executed endings out there. The mangaka working on 'Gantz' at the same time may have played a part in how the story ended.

Honestly, I'd recommend this to anyone not cynical to the point they'd judge it based on its first chapter and/or basic premise. It's a heartfelt comedy/drama, sure to be involving for anyone who can relate to the lead and enjoyable for those looking for something different from the usual romantic comedy offerings. The art is very appealing, which allows readers to fully understand just why the reclusive lead gets tongue-tied around his new 'mother', and the manga is short enough to read in one sitting. What do you have to lose? Give it a go!


Extra: The manga isn't ecchi until towards the end, when a few chapters are dedicated to a sex scene. There aren't any nipples or private parts on show, but there's plenty of kissing and touching, and it's made perfectly clear what's going on. If you're against the idea of cunnilingus in your manga, then this might not be the one for you. But let me repeat myself in order to make this crystal clear: the scene is near the end and there are only a few chapters covering it. The sex scene in question does serve a purpose, meaning it'd be wrong to class the manga as pornographic because of it.