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Generally regarded as the preeminent work within the entire anime industry, Neon Genesis Evangelion carries the distinction of inaugurating the medium into complex areas of human thought and intrigue, such as: philosophy, psychology and theology. This groundbreaking approach detached itself from the prototypical formula used by many directors at the time, and imbued original ideas into a stagnating industry that had suffered from the economic difficulties of the early 1990's. While there is much controversy surrounding several facets of the show (I will analyze these discrepancies in due course), one cannot deny the significance it has played on its numerous successor’s.

Without further delay, ... allow me to deconstruct (attempt, at least) the critical components of Neon Genesis Evangelion in a fashion that will shed light onto the remarkable and the mundane aspects of the show, elucidating its place on the hierarchy of all time greats.

Story: 5/10

Taking place in a not too distant future (writing this in 2018 would make it the past, but you know what I mean), unknown beings known as “Angels” wreck havoc on the citizens of the planet, causing unbridled fear and trepidation in response to impending doom. Despite advances in military equipment, guns and tanks are ineffective in combating the “Angels.” Fortunately, for the sake of humankind, the United Nations put together an organization named NERV to combat said “Angels” through the deployment of Evangelions (Mecha’s) to ward off these unfamiliar adversaries. Everything is easy enough at this point, what is not evident is the reason the pilots are required to be 14 years-old, or what allows them to achieve higher levels of synchronization — a vital component (as we are told) when entering battle. Unfortunately, these questions, among several others (I will not list them all, to avoid spoiling the show) are never addressed, leaving something to be desired from the viewer’s perspective.

I have no qualms with the structure of the story or the proliferation and differentiation of “Angels” that come to earth. In fact, the sophistication of the “Angels” to discover new ways of infiltrating NERV headquarters was rather unique and quite enjoyable. My main issue, however, is the constant immature behavior from the main characters, especially when we are led to believe that failure could result in total destruction of the human race. The various attempts at generic comedy — particularly in the first 15 episodes — draws the viewer’s attention away from the serious aspects of the show that ought to be prioritized to provide an engaging story.

Episode 16, on the other hand, is a refreshing breakthrough in the series that explores Shinji’s interpersonal monologue and his authentic feelings about social interactions, and by default, his resultant depression. This marks a dark moment laced with complex psychological implications for our main protagonist. Furthermore, it illuminates the visceral nature that we all are prone to succumb to under situations of extreme duress. Given the known depression of Hideaki Anno (the creator of Neon Genesis Evangelion) the depiction is a poignant display of the inner workings of someone who does not want to integrate themselves into society. The show does an excellent job of capturing the dormant frustrations one feels while in this frame of mind, and how they create ways to shield themselves from feeling rejected by others. The series continues this dark introspection by examining each character’s past events, giving substantive information into their motivations to act in their own distinct ways. This, in my estimation, is where the show begins to shine, as it strikes an emotional chord with viewer’s that most anime wouldn’t dream of touching. It shifts the viewer’s attention away from the escapist reality that we reside in when watching typical anime, and forces us to confront the mental pressures of ordinary life. It is jarring approach that is not for the faint of heart, but it is paramount in conveying a realistic scenario in which teenagers are faced with lamentable situations. This last statement is crucial, because we must remind ourselves, tacitly, that 14 year-olds are cognitively and emotionally tenuous, causing them to resort drastically to unfavorable circumstances.

Characters: 5.5/10

Time and time again, to the detriment of the series, the main character’s exhibit certain behaviors (dare I say, cartoonish) that seem unbecoming given the potential consequences of inadvertent failure. Perhaps we could chalk this up to puerile adolescence, but the behavior is so over the top that it becomes laughably dull and banal. One prime example occurs during episode 10 when Asuka first encounters her new D-type equipment and literally has a meltdown (pun intended). And let’s not neglect the several awkward “accidents” that occur when female characters are placed in promiscuous situations through contrived “happenstances.” Perhaps we could call these situations unnecessary fan service, and in most cases we would be correct, but herein lies the rub. There is considerable controversy surrounding Hideaki Anno’s intent regarding the characters of the show and how he designed them to be received by the general public. A cohort of fans argue, perhaps rightfully so (although, perhaps not), that the characters are ironic depictions of the wants/desires of Otaku culture. By creating characters that resemble their main interests — highly sexualized, valiant, and resolute — it provides an opportunity to dress them down in a way that will overtly expose their numerous flaws. It humanizes them to the extent of making the viewer uncomfortable with their own insecurities, eliminating the escapist reality that some have fabricated to evade certain aspects of the real world. Whether or not these notions have any validity, is a matter for speculative discussion — but it is interesting to ponder, nonetheless.

That all being said, let’s discuss each character in further detail to provide better insight as to why their faults are necessary plot devices to tell a larger story (i.e. the central story).

Shinji — The reserved, self-loathing protagonist, Shinji Ikari, epitomizes the introvert personality by concealing his true identity a-la the hedgehog’s dilemma (first introduced by philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer). Just a brief reminder for anyone who hasn’t watched the show for quite some time, as this concept is fundamental in understanding our main character, the premise of this theory goes as follows: forging intimate relationships, despite our best intentions, causes shared emotional pain; therefore, provoking guarded behavior and overall weaker relationships due to the lack of intimacy. This explains Shinji’s maladroit encounters with female characters in the show, and his reluctancy to solidify lasting relationships. He has become content to live in the imaginary shell that is his happy place, believing that expressing his true self will cause unintended harm to others and himself. Hideaki Anno, to his credit, overlaid his permeating depression into a fourteen year-old character, that, for the most part, comes through as feeling authentic. This is not your prototypical action hero who possesses an indomitable will to overcome any, and all challenges; rather, Shinji, on countless occasions, shows signs of regression, a trait that is synonymous with the human condition. He turns his back on the world when he cannot handle its enormous weight, and clings to his walkman to alleviate his anxieties. This feeling of despondency leads Shinji into a self-reflective period (episodes 25 and 26), which, at times, feels redundant, but emphasizes the narrative goal Anno was trying to convey throughout the series.

Asuka — Over-the-top, cliched, arrogant, and dearth of any real personality (despite glaring arrogance), are only a handful of reasons I despised this character. Then, to my astonishment, a dramatic shift occurred during episode 22, when we discover, poignantly, the insecurities that lurk beneath Asuka’s tough exterior. The alpha (fe)male facade, as we learn, serves as a protective barrier to prevent others from unearthing the psychologically damaged soul that is Asuka Langley. A soul that we soon discover is, in several ways, similar to one, Shinji Ikari. And much like her male counterpart, when her shortcomings come to the fore, she withers under the pressure, revealing her frail resolve. This character had all the potential of being great, but my initial impression of her cannot be burned from my mind, nor can her constant immature, stereotypical, ignominious antics that were displayed throughout the series. She could have (i.e. should have) been handled with a bit of nuance, rather than exemplifying an unrealistic extreme to offset Shinji’s passivity.

Rei — Representing a detached, apathetic personality, Rei Ayanami, is the antithesis of Asuka, but like her fellow copilot, shares a commonality with one, Shinji Ikari. A valid criticism can be made that Rei (along with several characters in the series) serve as “conveniences” for Shinji to move his character along. And this is no more evident towards the end of the series when she plays the role of Shinji’s therapist, by asking pointed questions about his inward feelings. Because she harbor’s the soul of Lilith (the progenitor of the human species) she represents a mother-like figure that comforts Shinji in ways his father never could. Allowing him to take a step forward through adolescence into young adulthood.

Misato — An interesting juxtaposition exists with Misato’s work demeanor and personal life. At her place of employment, NERV headquarters, she is a concentrated, energized individual with an unquestioned focus on her task of defeating “Angels” by any means necessary. Her civilian life, however, includes frequent beer-guzzling stints, unrestrained (i.e goofy) behavior, and an overall indolent lifestyle. It is the latter persona, one which was annoyingly prevalent in the initial parts of the series, that curbed any attempts at conveying solemnity. Even though it is later revealed that her behavior is the result of her upbringing, it doesn’t negate the classic tropes that she exhibits; in fact, to prove my point, rewatch the first episode. After the explosion of the N2 mine (the most powerful weapon in human existence), Misato and Shinji, casually, flip her car over and resume driving down the road. Misato, then, grieves over the damage to her car (I suppose NERV doesn’t have the funds to provide transportation to high ranking officials) and how her dress was ruined by the explosion. Now, let me be clear, if a character within the show is more concerned about her appearance than an indestructible “Angel,” then why should I show any sympathy towards their cause? Answer: I should’t. Keep in mind, this occurs in the first episode, setting an awful tone for the story and the character(s) moving forward.

Animation: 8/10

Due to budget constraints, portions of the animation have the appearance of being underwhelming for intermittent moments. Scrutinizing unremarkable scenes, however, seems hardly fair, particularly when you consider the burden of diminutive resources. That being said, the battle scenes are choreographed with exquisite flare, portraying a natural flow that is pleasing to the eye. The weight of “Angels” crushing the Evangelion’s (and vice-versa) is portrayed in a palpable way, giving the viewer a shared emotional experience with the characters in the show. The dynamic color palette provides a rich depth of visual intrigue, yielding iconic imagery that persists in the viewer’s mind long after the initial observation. In addition, the design of the Evangelion’s, “Angels,” and much of the scenery in general, is highly original with great imaginative acuity. Definitely one of the best animated shows of the 1990’s, and would have easily earned a 10/10 if not for the limitations in capital.

Music: 9/10

Critically analyzing each song would be a bit cumbersome, not to mention, highly subjective. I will say this, though, the opening track, Zankoku na Tenshi no Tēze, was extremely well done, providing an uplifting, yet, appropriately enough, cryptic start to each episode. The jazz ending, Fly Me To The Moon, is a rehash of a Bart Howard’s work, and has been released a myriad of times by countless artists, including Frank Sinatra. Interestingly enough, for anyone that cares, Frank Sinatra had his fair share of depression in his life, ranging from mild to severe. Perhaps the person(s) selecting this song for the ending knew about this factoid, and thought it would be a nice compliment to the show. That said, no disrespect to the great Frank Sinatra, but something about a female voice singing this song felt soothing, relaxing, and tranquil.

Enjoyment: 6/10

The first 15 episodes, regrettably, were too insouciant for a show that had ambitious intentions of tackling existential themes and intense psychological dilemmas. Asuka and Misato, in particular, were the main culprits of my initial dissatisfaction with the show, as they felt too cliched for my tastes. Anime that want to take themselves seriously, as was the intention with NGE, need to shy away from the common pitfalls that consume much of the industry. Also, the religious imagery used throughout much of the series, while eye-pleasing, served no other purpose than reminding the viewer of the heavy-handed re-imagining of the story of Adam and Eve. It is the sort of flourish that sounds nice in preconception, but is as unnecessary as a piece of parsley on a steak dinner. By this point, if you are a hardcore fan of the show, which a multitude of people are, you may vehemently disagree with my assessment and analyzation thus far, and conclude that I am simply a “hater.” But that could not be further from the truth. I yearn for anime to be more introspective, exploring different afflictions that affect large segments of the population; rather than focusing on a goofy protagonist who only wants to kill and be the best (e.g. Goku, Lelouch, Gon, and Naruto). That being said, it should be handled with subtle precision, instead of coarse dichotomies.

The End of Evangelion: 8.6/10

From the material that I have read, Anno does not provide a clear answer as to which ending is the “true” conclusion to NGE. And for all intensive purposes, it doesn’t really matter. Shinji, more or less, confronts the same psychological questions as the original ending, making The End of Evangelion, a stylistic alternative. Be that as it may, the improvement in animation, alone, provides some of the most iconic images from the entire series.

**SPOILER ALERT**

In particular, the scene where the “Angels” eat Asuka’s Evangelion is absolutely bone-chilling. Tiffany Grant (the english voice actor for Asuka) does an excellent job of exhibiting the distress of someone who is about to perish. The visceral scene concludes with Shinji seeing the indescribable horror that is the remnants of Eva-unit 2 — an image that will be etched into my memory forever. Also, the ending scene, the one in which Shinji is choking Asuka on the beach, is as iconic as it is perplexing. While numerous interpretations exist behind the significance of this scene, it should be understood that Asuka, for all intensive purposes, represents Shinji (albeit, an aggressive female version of Shinji). Therefore, because we acknowledge Shinji’s dissatisfaction with himself, we must, indubitably, recognize his resentment for Asuka as an act of self-hatred. Their souls, essentially, are one in the same, making the final scene a vicious act of psychological suicide — at least, that is how I interpreted it (to each their own).

**SPOILER OVER**

Overall: 6.7/10 (NGE) | 8.6/10 (EOE) |7.01/10 (NGE plus EoE)

Overall, the series is an amalgamation of bad, so-so, good, and great moments. This is why, I suspect, the vast majority of people either love or hate the series. It is easy to grasp onto the parts that support your particular position, and use it as justification to deem the anime as complete garbage, or unquestioned brilliance. I subscribe to the notion that the truth lies somewhere in the middle — good, but flawed, nonetheless. It is the type of anime, given the controversy surrounding it, that necessitates at least one viewing in your lifetime. It may contribute valuable information applicable to your own life-experiences, or to someone you may know.

That is the conclusion of my review. Thanks for reading and congratulations.

Although Einstein’s theory of general relativity allows for backwards time-travel to exist — at least, theoretically speaking — modern day physicists have yet to conceive a device that would enable humans to manipulate the flow of time. That being said, science fiction author’s, as well as ordinary people, will continue to dream about the notion of time travel, and the boundless opportunities, as well as ramifications, it would likely entail. Toki wo Kakeru Shoujo (The Girl Who Leapt Through Time) is a story that takes a simple approach to the concept of time-travel, following the events of a high school girl who, unexpectedly, ... attains the ability to leap backwards through time and change the outcome of certain events. Initially, her intentions are quite inconsequential, like getting a flawless score on her pop quiz, or avoiding getting knocked over by some rowdy boys. Then, predictably, Makoto (the female protagonist) realizes the inadvertent consequences of her actions, leading her to the conclusion that time should not be altered for the whims of one person. The banal outcome of the main character’s journey notwithstanding, there was one character that spoiled the entire movie with his cryptic motivations and inexplicable actions thereafter. I speak, of course, of Chiaki Mamiya.

Chiaki Mamiya is a high school boy who is friends with Makoto and Kousuke. His inclination to take school lightly and spend the majority of his time playing baseball matches up well with Makoto’s interests, preluding us to the eventual declaration that initiates the final cascade of events. This reveal catalyzes Makoto’s character forward into discovering new emotions about herself, while, at the same time, sacrifice’s vital information that was necessary in telling a complete story. To expand upon this idea, I will need to divulge a handful of SPOILERS.

After Chiaki asks Makoto out on a date, Makoto begins to see her friendship quite differently. Going so far as to avoid the question through her time leap and pretend it never happened. But it did happen. At least, from Makoto’s perspective. The numerous awkward encounters that proceed culminate into a situation in which Makoto continues to obviate Chiaki’s efforts, leading to a situation in which Chiaki catches Makoto by surprise, questioning whether she knows about the time leap. This is where the relatively bland, mundane movie begins to unravel. Chiaki reveals that he is from the future, and has traveled back through time to see a…painting. Of course, you would think we would be privy to the significance this painting holds to Chiaki, but, alas, we are not. It is, after all, the primary reason — the only reason — this character decides to alter an entire timeline of events and, most likely, change the trajectory of future events thereafter. Then, matters are exacerbated further when Chiaki announces he must return his home (the future) through the use of his time leap. Implying, invariably, that the time leap can be used to travel forward through time, as well. Why, then, did Makoto, through her numerous time leaps, never travel forwards through time, even by some accident? It was clear from the outset that she never truly understood the mechanics of the time leap, as she would often times overshoot her desired time location. Wouldn’t it be entirely plausible for her to accidentally travel forward through time, creating new dilemma’s that must be dealt with. Furthermore, the enigmatic ending that leaves a realm of possibilities for the viewer to ponder, only imbues further dissatisfaction. Because now we must consider what Chiaki means by these words: “I’ll be waiting for you.” Notice that Chiaki does not kiss Makoto in this moment, but, instead, hugs her. Perhaps indicating that Chiaki is, in fact, her future son? Due to the dearth of character depth, it is challenging for us to pull anything away from this encounter. Sure, we can speculate, as several others have done. But what can we hope to learn when there were no attempts at fleshing out the authentic nature of these characters. Everything is presented as surface level fluff, evading the core principles that govern the character’s actions. Because of this, I can only conclude that Makoto feels attracted to Chiaki because of jealousy — remember, she only starts to like him after she time leaps and sees him with another girl. And Chiaki only likes Makoto because they play baseball together. What else is there to go on?

Overall, the movie did not live up to the praise everyone showers upon it. The animation, while intentionally simple, was uninspiring, leaving little to no impression. A rare miss for Madhouse studios. The music was decent, but is easily forgettable. The cast, like I explained ad nauseam, were surface level characters, lacking essential depth to give the viewer a bridge to create a bond of empathy. Which is a shame, because when the story is devoid of interesting, well thought out plot points; and the character’s motivations/emotions are scarce, to say the least, then it really leaves nothing else for the anime to effectively stand on with firm footing.

4/10 —Unremarkable

A shot of epinephrine straight into your veins that escalates to ever higher doses with each successive episode. Being self-aware of its own brand of action-packed "absurdity," Gurren Lagann continually pushes the envelope to epic proportions, forcing the viewer to speculate: "just how far will they go in their insanity?"

Not far enough!

Just when you think the scale of battles has reached its absolute peak, another door opens into a realm not previously contemplated, creating new layers of suspense and intrigue into what’s coming next. Gurren Lagann is the perfect dose of machismo-ladened entertainment for any person ready to face the challenges ... of life and kick some rear-end. Clearly demonstrating that not all anime require a Machiavellian premise to be regarded as a classic. The story follows a conventional premise typically seen in the majority Shounen anime (i.e. a large oppressive force that must be overcome through constant battles of ever stronger adversaries). The differentiation comes in the form of pacing. Serving as a predecessor to One Punch Man, Gurren Lagan skips the fluff and drills straight to the point — action! Leading the charge, of course, is our copilot Kamina, a man who neglects standard procedure and charges forward without a second’s thought. A perfect symbol for the outward appearance of what the show represents: strong, confident, and above all, awesome! For some, this is sufficient to provide a pleasurable viewing experience, but for others, additional elements are required to yield something truly spectacular. Luckily for us, Gurren Lagann does just that.

Surprising to numerous viewers, myself included, the characters in Gurren Lagann possess considerable depth for an action based anime. Sure, the dynamic battle scenes provide ocular pleasure that serves as the focal point of much enjoyment. But the development of Simon — particularly after episode eight — gives the viewer a human perspective of our main protagonist. Being the antithesis of his big bro, Simon struggles to assert himself as a clear and respectable leader among his compatriots. Battling depressive episodes and moments of lashing out against teammates cast doubts among his friends on his aptitude to manage the elevated levels of stress that come with war.

Despite Simon’s deficiencies, he soon learns that strength exists in several forms, and only through catharsis can he illuminate his tenacity to conquer any challenge. This new found confidence serves him well for a period of time, until political tensions come to the forefront, presenting new obstacles that cannot be remedied through might alone.

Simon’s character goes through a metamorphosis of sorts, as he transitions from adolescence to manhood, growing emotionally by learning from his experiences to become the best version of himself that he can possibly be. The process is not without its fair share of difficulties, but the eventual payoff is worth the transient struggle. A marvelous coming of age story if there ever was one.

Speaking of transitioning from childhood to adulthood, Rossiu (a grounded, rational character among a sea of gladiators) provides insight into someone that lacks talent for the sword, and instead resides himself to the pen. I speak, of course, about his ability to handle political situations with nuance and pragmatism, rather than hot-blooded emotion. Several of his decisions may seem questionable at first glance, but examined from the view of an impartial observer, he did what he considered was the greatest good for the greatest amount of people: a utilitarian approach.

Despite the outcome of said decisions, one must respect his fidelity to protect the citizenry from — what appeared to be — impending doom. While not popular among the anime community, he had the best of intentions for his people (and yes, I am well aware of the popular proverb: The road to hell is paved with good intentions). That being said, determining the correct course of action in a world that is neither black nor white, but countless shades of gray, is beyond complicated, especially with the dire consequences presented to our heroes. Placing blame on a character that did not seek to enrich himself by means of corruption, nor satisfy his ego through self-aggrandizing behavior affirms that he was only slightly misguided with his decision making ability, yet far from reproach.

The remaining cast of characters can be summed up in one word: cliched. Granted, a twenty-seven episode anime that generates a name for itself by concocting inconceivable battle scenes has limited time to expand upon each character to their fullest extent; however, episode twenty-one, in particular, seemed superfluous to the overall story, missing an opportunity to build upon Yoko’s character, rather than tacking on an unproductive side anecdote. That being taken into consideration, one cannot be too harsh on the simplistic approach of several characters within the show. After all, we are dealing with Mecha’s that can merge at the drop of a hat, produce substantially larger drills out of thin air, and can exceed all limitations through sheer force of will. If we can suspend disbelief for all of these other phenomena, perhaps overlooking some underdeveloped characters is possible as well.

If the various side characters are nothing more than one-dimensional character tropes (which seems to be the case), it is bearable due to the intermittent moments of comedic relief that they provide to offset the non-stop action.

The art/animation is sensational throughout the series. While the battle scenes maintain a fast clip, everything feels smooth and well defined. Complex movements are integrated seamlessly as they never interrupt the natural flow of the fight. The amazingly bold color palette creates a vibrant atmosphere, especially the use of red and blue as symbols of strength and heaven (piercing the heavens). Overall, it is a beautiful piece of art that may feel a bit over the top, but considering the circumstances, fits splendidly within the context of the anime.

The soundtrack is an instant classic that belongs in everyone’s personal collection. One cannot help but feel invigorated by listening to this exhilarating score of vivacious music.

In addition, the actors/actresses deserve high praise for their respective performances. They all seemed to understand the overall tone the writers were going for and executed their vision with superb precision. Both the dub and sub are equally respectable, in this regard, and there should be no reason to not enjoy both of them equally.

Gurren Lagann is a constant reminder that personal enjoyment should not be sacrificed in the quest for cognitive refinement. Indulging in “comfort anime” allows you to drift into the temporary feeling of being a care-free child again, forgetting about the importance of substantive story lines, and focusing solely on being entertained. There are plenty of intellectually stimulating anime that hit all the criteria for eruditely inclined individuals, but few action anime as well done as Gurren Lagann that allow you to recline your chair, grab your popcorn, and have a damn good time.

9/10 — Top notch action anime

“In exchange for power, maybe I’ve lost something that’s essential for a human being?” — Saitama.

In honor of staying consistent with breaking tradition (as One Punch Man often does) I will end my review here……

”OK.”

Joking aside, allow me to construct an argument explaining my reasons for giving this anime a perfect 10/10.

Shounen anime has gained a reputation, perhaps deservingly so, of opting for grand visual displays over stimulating plots and character progression (style over substance, as it were). The classic road of generating super long arcs to manufacturer an enemy menacing enough to seem invincible is as routine as the human necessity ... to breathe. Not to mention the inevitable character flaws/weakness he will endure to strengthen his resolve in conquering the unbeatable foe. Let’s not forget the inane qualities of our protagonist, some of which include childish behavior and ridiculous low intelligence (particularly for someone who is expected to save the world). Suffice it to say, the process is commonplace and to be expected when one engages in viewing such anime.

Enter: One Punch Man.

Gratuitously long plots are a thing of the past when Saitama is on the case. Villains barley have enough screen time to utter their name before being vaporized by the kinetic energy of the One Punch Man. And rightfully so, why would a hero waste time trifling with second rate adversaries when he could be saving endangered citizens? Practically speaking, its what any sensible hero would and should do. Attempting to reform a criminal by allowing them to live, when they have committed horrendous atrocities never made sense to me; thus, making Saitama’s brand of swift and merciless justice appropriate.

Overcoming character flaws/weakness does not exist for Saitama, at least not in the traditional sense. Typically, we encounter a hero who has a unique talent with an undying motivation to become the strongest he can become through training and other outlets. This, as we are lead to believe, is the essence of Shounen anime, the ability to overcome burdensome challenges through sheer grit and determination. Similar to when you play a video game for the first time, you must acquire the necessary dexterity to play proficiently enough to complete the game. But what happens afterwards? Your skill accelerates to the point of becoming too good and then the challenges that were once difficult become rudimentary. How does one create a pleasurable experience when worthy competitors are non-existent? This is the question Saitama continually asks himself when his powers become, apparently, infinite. Coping with the permanent reality of defeating substandard opponents becomes underwhelming and quite depressing. Imagine, if you will, playing basketball against a two-year-old. Your success in defeating the two-year-old is all but assured, but what satisfaction does it give you when win a thousand times over (as Saitama has done by punching countless villains)? This dilemma does not have a defined remedy, making Saitama’s eventual realization all the more soul-crushing when he determines that his strength may be unmatched.

This sort of inner personal struggle leaves Saitama feeling isolated from modern society, as he spends most of his days watching television. Later attempts of joining the hero association do little to nothing for his gratification, and in fact, augment further emotional strains that must be burdened.

Juxtaposing the “strong” characters (Saitama and Boros) with the “weak” characters (pretty much everyone else) reveals interesting perspectives on what power represents to individual people. Extraordinarily, power appears to be less important to those that possess it, as opposed to people void of it. Genos and Speed-o’-Sound Sonic are great examples of characters that lack significant power, feeling slighted and demoralized by their failures, always craving the goal rather than the experience of the process. Whereas Saitama and Boros — characters flushed with power — hunger for an opportunity of being tested and could care less about gaining additional strength because it yields no additional happiness (law of diminishing returns).

Beyond the breaking of the Shounen code, if you will, through the psychological realities of power, One Punch Man also does so in a comedic fashion. Some may argue, myself included, that this is where the show really shines, by tearing down walls that were thought to be untouchable. The disclosure of Saitama’s training regimen is perhaps the prime example of spitting in the proverbial face of Shounen tropes, yet not really feeling offensive when doing so. Comedy done in a self-deprecating way eases the tension of One Punch Man’s numerous attempts of mocking an entire genre. For younger viewers that may not appreciate the psychological aspects of the show, the comedy alone serves as a foundational piece that can be enjoyed all on its own.

I would be remiss not to mention the wonderfully animated battle scenes that eclipse the vast majority of Shounen anime, matching the visual mastery of Samurai Champloo. The battle scene between Saitama and Genos, in particular, has become a cult classic among fans, yielding over 6 million views on YouTube alone. If you are on the fence about watching this anime, watch this one four minute scene and you will be instantly addicted.

Speaking of addicting (wipes nose indiscriminately, lol jk), the musical score is an adrenal rush of epic proportions. How many times, honestly speaking, have people listened to this soundtrack when performing their daily/weekly exercise routine? Because I use it all the time! Just like anything in life, everyone has their own personal tastes in regards to music; however, if you enjoy fast paced guitar solos with energizing beats, then this may be up your alley.

All in all, there are multiple levels of enjoyment to be had by watching One Punch Man. It is a lean 12 episodes that has sufficient depth to produce numerous fond memories that may take a typical Shounen 100 episodes to yield the same effect. Not bad for a Seinen anime that aims to parody the traditional Shounen tropes present in today’s medium.

10/10 — Masterpiece!

Nostalgia is a distorted lens in which we attempt to recall past events in an optimistic light despite the thoughts/feelings we may have felt at the time. Rewatching an anime after an extended period provides the viewer with the perception of experiencing a show as if it was their first time, providing useful insight into the human psyche. In this regard, we can compare the two experiences and determine the validity of one's nostalgia and whether or not it is warranted or a fabrication.

**SPOILERS AHEAD**

Jyu Oh Sei: Planet of the Beast King attempts to produce shock and anguish by eliminating Thor and Rai’s ... parents within the first six minutes of episode one, and while no one envies the melancholic situation the boys now find themselves in, it is difficult for the viewer to share their discontent when their parents are never properly introduced. They are sparingly talked about in the latter parts of the series, but their identities/back stories are never truly explored. This dilemma is further exacerbated when Thor seems poised to murder Rai when he cannot keep up in the forest. I understand the notion of siblings fighting, but the two are in the forest for not even a day and Thor’s bloodlust is indisputable. This becomes further perplexing in future episodes when Thor displays moral qualms about murdering others when he showed little regard for his own brother (SPOILER ALERT: I understand the two are not brothers, but Thor believed him to be his brother at this point in the story). Let us then make the assumption that Thor was slightly naive at this point in time and gradually learns the value of human life throughout the series.

The hypothesis just stated works out fairly well until Thor becomes acquainted with Zagi’s second: Karim. Perceived as a strong, independent woman who does not rely on her genetic disposition of producing children (Tiz is scowling right now), Karim represents Thor’s “ideal” woman. Closer inspection, however, reveals the nugatory feelings the two share when Karim expresses her affection based solely on Thor’s beauty. Consequently, the writers decide to make this superficial relationship that was forged in one night the crux of the entire series. As it serves as the principle reason Thor loses his sensibility and lashes out against Zagi. If the entire purpose of Karim’s existence was to produce a visceral reaction from Thor, why not use Tiz instead? Third’s betrayal was quite evident from the outset, but eliminating Karim was far from mind-blowing, let alone unnecessary. Using an existing relationship, albeit a one-sided affection, would generate the same response from Thor and stimulate feelings of empathy on the part of the viewer. Of course, the one dimensional aspect of Tiz always yearning to procreate with Thor does wear thin on the viewer’s nerves, but at least they share a friendship that lasted five years rather than the one night underground with Karim.

Speaking of superficial, the man who orchestrates the entire cascade of events bases his entire existence on seeing a planet that he has no connection with — other than being human — because of a three-dimensional image he saw as a child. In addition, his role to accelerate Thor’s development and eventually become the Beast King is evident rather early, making the “surprise” assassination not so astonishing.

The other aspects of the show like the planet of living plants, the sterility of the human species, and separation of male and females are all interesting concepts, but never examined with any amount of detail to be worth mentioning. It is as if creator(s) thought of these novelties whilst writing without putting much thought into how it would eventually tie together. Hence the slovenly ending where they attempt to mash everything together in an unmitigated farrago.

Circling back to the original paragraph, I had fond memories of this show when I decided to come back and watch it for a second time. I vaguely remembered the fight scenes and the twists and turns that came from each episode; thus, leading to a reasonable amount of excitement. Nevertheless, after watching this for a second time, it is my conclusion that Jyu Oh Sei is not a fine wine that ages gracefully with time, rather it resembles a chain link fence that has rusted, becoming putrid in appearance, leaving no substantive mark in my mind of anything positive or worthwhile. There were some good elements that if fleshed out more could have made for a fascinating story — pity.

3/10 — Worth skipping if you don’t have the time.