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Often times I find myself wondering what the heart of lupin the 3rd is; what is the crux, the soul, the spirit of such a perennial franchise? Amidst prolonged rumination no such answer reveals itself, to me lupin is simply too intimate a franchise, as if he refuses to be reduced to a few mere words or thoughts. The man in question refuses to be tied down to a simple description, a simple thrill, or a single woman, there’s no doubt that this franchise can slip through any attempt at description composed of constituent words and sentences and phrases. To bridge what is infinitely apart, ... to catch a witty gentlemen thief and his entourage? There’s just no easy way out.

But as an attempt to decompose what makes lupin so great, one naturally gravitates towards the reusable formula of cast and narrative that can be cooked as simple or complex as the consumer’s appetite so desires: Lupin’s charismatic nature, #ourguy hardboiled Jigen, the walking anachronism Goemon, Fujiko’s antics, Zenigata’s true love-hate chase, and how these characters culminate in the most romanticised, titillating crime. To steal, is it not the ultimate pleasure? The ultimate thrill? Is it not a desire that each viewer has caged inside their heart, ready to burst out in a spectacular fashion? It is in anime, in abstraction that these fancies can be quietly soothed in a gratifying and stylish manner. It is in Lupin and only Lupin that such an appetite can be sated to the highest degree. Yet in many entries of the franchise there seems to be unresolved feelings, an uncertain identity, or maybe just too much filler? Maybe the serious narrative is a letdown, or maybe it’s too experimental? Not everyone can trudge through the dreary narrative of Fujiko’s lie, nor the episodes of nothingness in part 2. Dear reader, has Lupin disappointed you? In that case I recommend you visit, revisit, or even take a simple glance at the Castle of Cagliostro. Sometimes it is hard to describe something with just words, or even just with sounds. Miyazaki’s movie sits atop that throne, or maybe it’s a clam clearing? Wherever it sits, it’s a special place, a meditative place. A place that once you’re whisked away to, you find it hard to dissociate yourself, to leave such a rosy and romantic abode. It is truly an escape into the struggles and adventures of another.

Glossing over the obviously gorgeous sound and visuals, the selling point of this movie is that it’s happy. Let’s begin with the colours. I’m by no means an expert on colours, but there’s just something about that homebrew of vivid complementary colours, pastel and light shading that gives the movie a fantastical, fuzzy feeling. And within these colours a narrative is painted, with an underlying hue of warmth arising from intimate framing. This warmth is perpetuated with the style of animation, which comes off as heavily stylized and cartoonish, but surprisingly tangible and grounded at the same time. The backgrounds definitely speak picturesque beauty, however in the foreground the frisky adventure exhibits itself so stylishly that the entire presentation transcends terms such as “realistic” or “cartoonish” and becomes a synaesthesia of tones that can only be achieved in animation.

The narrative itself moves forward at a rather intense pace, and there’s moments of fear, thrill, and terror. But despite this, the movie somehow remains happy. It’s just always happy. We can thank the clever and snappy nature of each action scene; they never overstay their welcome, yet each remain unique and easily impressionable. The castle set piece moments especially are stringed together in a natural fashion, where it feels like the characters funnel into each unknown area, rather than the areas being scripted for characters. Between all the action definitely lies playful and pulpy dialogue that, if not delivered by a familiar and lovable cast, would come off as tropey, edgy, or romanticised. But because it is such a charming cast, the dialogue instead feels bouncy, slinging back and forth between characters deliciously. I found the playful but serious interactions between the jaded Lupin and the younger princess to be especially endearing, as it constructs this strange dynamic where totally opposite characters slowly thaw and warm up to each other.

Even if the overarching narrative can feel thin at times, it plays out in such a wild and brazen manner that it somehow feels innovative to even the 21st century consumer. And of course, there are moments of injected worldly politics and conspiracy lore that complement the main adventure, although they are simple ramblings, they still retain an agreeable degree of thoughtfulness. Again, due to the linear nature of the story, the movie always moves things along comfortably and naturally. There aren’t even many surprising moments, Castle of Cagliostro is simply obsessed with overclocking the Lupin engine. And by doing just that, it’s stolen my heart.
9/10

Girls Und Panzer Der Film: Passion and Senshadou

The concept of girls in tanks battling each other for sport may come off as facetious or simply nonsensical to the jaded anime viewer. How would such an anime be structured? Is this not simply warmongering? Could there ever be depth beneath the surface of such a flimsy idea? I am not watching a show about little girls in tanks!

Yet Girls Und Panzer struts in flamboyantly; an honest, methodical display of passion. Passion for Senshadou (the sport of girls in tanks), passion for school, for nation, and passion for even the most grounded of club activities. The endearing ... nature of the girls here is easily shown- their desire to protect something, to achieve something, to simply enjoy the day-to-day with their comrades. An honest, straightforward show like this has already won the hearts of many. The bubbly, infectious personalities of the girls blend perfectly well with each tank – a simple joy for the anime fan and military otaku. Yet it is clear that we are here to enjoy the ride, not inspect it- there are flaws present in the show concerning the sometimes-overwrought cast of characters, and more importantly – a lack of meaningful exploration beyond their usual tropes and shallow development.

Der Film is a direct sequel to the show, and it is not a departure from the well-oiled formula by any means, it is simply an extrapolation of its strongest points with an upgrade in scale and budget. The plot may come off as a pastiche with the same formula of the school shutting down and the need to unite and win against an overwhelming enemy. However, like the show itself it is presented so straightforwardly that the viewer will have no qualms with its simplicity and stupid-fun honesty. The full cast of characters is on display here: however, unlike the show, moments of character nuance are only shown fleetingly – through wordless flashbacks and simple, daily interactions where the nature of characters can bleed through quietly. There are no superfluous character arcs – Miho’s awkward relationship with her mother is presented lightly, the importance of the co-dependent relationship between Mako and the public morals committee can be extrapolated from a single scene. Miho’s relationship with her sister transitions effortlessly from the warm past, to the colder, yet slowly thawing present. By not homing in on main characters and balancing out screen time for every group from the show, the story feels grander yet more intimate in nature, and truer to life.
The melodramatic nature of the over-arching plot does not come off as forced at all, it simply serves as a background to the epic battle ahead. Yet this background is crucial, the romantic slice-of-life sequences allowing the viewer to feel that weight, to shed those tears, to burn in the flames of passion along with our cast of brilliantly charming girls. Even the enemy side, with their little screen time, are easily understood through their respectful, prideful nature.

The battle itself ups the thrills of Senshadou to never seen before boundaries. The setpieces are utilised fully – a winding maze, an intense western, a ferris wheel chase, a roller-coaster chase, and so much more. Yet they never come off as overbearing, no setpiece is utilised twice, every moment of hype fleeting and self-contained. This is all tied into the greater battle – perhaps even more methodical and satisfying given its grand nature. Momentum is maintained – however flawlessly spliced with moments of charming banter and character. Darjeeling sips her tea, Katyusha yells at her comrades and Miho soldiers on. Music plays to flaunt the so silly that it becomes epic moments, and silence accentuates the ferocity of those shots, the screeching of those tracks, and the sweat off the brows of those stubborn girls.

An absolute beast of a movie that somehow gets it just right and levels up from the show in every aspect. 9/10 Panzer Vor

Cowboy Bebop: asteroid blues and cats on mars (minor spoilers)
All good things must come to an end, whether they be shows, summers, or even friendships. But that doesn't mean those things didn't matter, and that certainly doesn't mean many more good things won't follow. That just means you're living in the real world.

From the opening scene, Cowboy Bebop leaves a tinge of sadness; a bouquet of crumpled flowers, hailing rain and a man regretfully leaving it all behind. Bebop presents an array of complex themes yet provides simple and satisfying answers, whilst doing it in a jazzy and stylistically innovative manner.

“I’m not going ... there to die, I’m going to see if I’m truly alive.”

Spike, as best stated by himself, is a living ghost. Once a man who found identity in his gang, friends and his woman, Spike lost it all and is left with a heavy soul and a weight to carry. An old comrade resurfaces as a villain, mocking and taunting him, tearing at old wounds and calling upon great emotions of anger and regret. Cowboy bebop plays with Spike’s lost identity and his obsession with the past subtlety, displaying a façade of an easy-going, all-knowing cowboy, yet flashing uncertainty and melancholy in the sheen of his miscoloured eyes. Cowboy Bebop’s master stroke is the expertise juggling of light-hearted, fun bounty hunting and the tragic, regretful pasts of the main cast which is always there, in the shadow of the various adventures the crew embarks on. The viewer knows it’s there, yet they are able to appreciate the fun, nonsensical moments all the same. As a show of multiple identities, reflected in the cast, cowboy bebop can be seen as a genre of it’s own.

The characters aboard the Bebop truly have character (although they may lack an affirming identity). Their intense races to score each bounty, playful jeering and mopey shenanigans evoke all the feelings one could possibly feel; pure joy and excitement, yet deep inside, as Cowboy Bebop so expertly portrays, the feeling of melancholy. The characters, as well as they mesh and bounce off each other, have all left something behind and are simply living with regret. Faye copes with becoming disconnected from everything and everyone she ever cared for, not being able to grow up and experience the real youth she was meant to, Jet copes with his unintentional selfishness leading to his woman leaving, and Spike copes with being betrayed by a good friend and losing the love of his life. Yet, as subtlely as Cowboy Bebop portrays melancholy, it also tells us that everything will be alright, that if even this rag-tag group of vagabonds can come together, then maybe they did find something real. That despite losing all external links to identity, there is always the possibility of finding more meaning in life.

Cowboy Bebop’s structure may be as complex as it’s themes, it’s an episodic show with a few episodes which depict the cast’s overarching stories. While many episodes have something to say, some are just pure, unfiltered fun. Some instil great fear and terror, others inspire friendship and love. In the background, the past lives of the characters methodically unravel, presenting only the necessary information. Blink once and you could miss it all! The viewer can take Cowboy Bebop as shallow or as complex as they want, it’s truly an enjoyment for everyone. It even blares every type of music you could like: heavy metal, Japanese pop, lounge, swing, chorale and scat-singing, among other styles, as well as the usual blues and jazz pieces. Whether it’s a slow, romantic drink in a bar or a thrilling ship-chase, the music only adds and never subtracts. It pulls you into a thrilling symphony of visuals, sounds and excitement, many times evoking great synaesthesia. The stunning art and animation cannot be discredited either, inspiring great awe or intimacy in the vastness of space. Cowboy Bebop blends all of the classic Anime elements together with multicultural influence and innovative sound design, truly inventing a genre of its own.

The motif of dreams is often repeated by Spike and crew, that sometimes life seems like a dream, and only now that the past has departed that they feel awake. Take this as you will, but I believe that it’s telling us to keep moving forward, that time is unrelenting. In its cathartic finale, some of Bebop’s characters move on, and some don’t. Whatever your choice, you’ll forever carry the weight of the past; but don’t let that weigh down your future.
10/10