In several of my anime reviews, I've spoken about titles that split the community, and this same principal also applies to series that span several iterations and installments. And If there was ever an anime series that immediately invoked contention among anime enthusiasts it would be that of the Monogatari franchise, with fans on one side proclaiming it as the "crème de la crème of anime" and naysayers labeling it as pseudo-intellectual fanservice-bait for plebeians. Since its anime debut in 2009, that tug-of-war relationship has shown no signs of letting up. With such bipolar opinions between parties, there seems to be only one solution to
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determine the show's worth, and that's simply to have someone who couldn't give a flying fuck either way to provide an impartial evaluation. Ladies and gentlemen, in an attempt to restore a semblance of common sense to this feud, I, a man who has mastered the sacred art of "Who cares" shall proceed to do just that by bringing equilibrium to this cacophonous mess of a "debate."
To put it simply:
-If you're searching for something with a great audiovisual presentation that properly utilizes the medium of anime to its advantage, look no further than the Monogatari lineup, as it rivals many of its competitors in terms of striking imagery and eye-candy material.
BUT
-If you want a little something extra with your audiovisual experience, like, I don't know... maybe a compelling narrative and actual character exploration, then I suggest you go check out a Masaaki Yuasa project instead.
Koyomimonogatari, like its prior installments, is yet another entry into the franchise that upholds its quirky upbeat presentation, wordy banter and all the glitz and glam expected from a Shaft/Shinbou love-child, but like its prior installments, the narrative is a meandering pile-driver of senior-citizen pacing and superfluous storylines that border on utter pointlessness. No, the Monogatari franchise isn't trash like many self-proclaimed elites would preach, but at the same time, it isn't really breaking new grounds either. It's a show that, script-wise, can barely keep its head above water, but presentation-wise, stands as a monolith that dwarfs others around it.
Diving head first into these side stories, the show wastes no time plopping us and our protagonist Ararararararagi against his first obstacle. And in typical Monogatari fashion, that obstacle is, of course, something that is accompanied by the involvement of some quirky female character. If you wanted to make a template to help describe Monogatari as a whole to an outsider, it'd go something along these lines:
Arararararargi meets a female --> He helps solve her problems --> Female has some kind of infatuation with our lead (whether rational or not) --> Bombastic visual motifs and rapid-fire dialogue occur in quick succession--> The cycle starts all over again.
Koyomimonogatari is essentially a set of side stories that can be wedged into several different moments throughout the entire franchise. They serve as placeholders of sorts, all self-contained, but still a part of the ever-expanding Monogatari-verse. Each one of these mystery episodes centers around the involvement of any given female character that has been introduced up to this point, and it is up to our protagonist Arararararargi to solve yet again whatever issue they're having. Take the template I just gave, but applied on a micro scale, and you've pretty much got the plot of any given scenario. Of course there were a few episodes that serve as exceptions to this rule, but for the most part, it consisted of this formula. The biggest difference is that Arararararargi often seeks the advice of other females in the story, this time, around to help piece together the mystery that he can't quite figure out himself. These cases can range from trivial to something that directly ties into bigger events to come (as seen by the franchise's other installments).
There is also a continuing storyline established in the last three episodes. While still self-contained in standing with the rest of the series, it's an overarching story for these specials as its own entity. Another thing to take note of is that these episodes aren't of feature length time for typical anime episodes (20-24 minutes), but are condensed down to 10 minute run times, with exclusion of the opening and ending themes.
The mood of each episode also changed with the female whom it was centered around. For Ougi Oshino, things had this morbid sense of dread hanging over everything, while Tsukihi Araragi's story gave off a more bubblegum mood. It was a minor touch, but one worth noting, as it did much in spicing up the feeling and tone of each new story. Even the color choices placed throughout were adjusted accordingly, with the personality commonly associated with the character. For Yotsugi Ononoki, her surroundings were mostly washed out and devoid of color to reflect her doll-like personality, while characters like Shinobu Oshino had sparse uses of yellow tossed in to represent her intermittent bursts of child-like innocence better. These touches showed an eye for detail on the staff behind these specials, which made them feel like they were done by people who care about the project rather than a team producing material of an established brand for profit. Of course, these techniques were carried over from the main series, but applying them here shows that they cared about these shorts as much as anything found in the main story up to this point.
Another thing worth noting was that the opening songs would change in accordance with whichever female character the episode was focusing on. These were songs used throughout the prior seasons for their individual story arc and, like the minor details found with the color choices, this too helped in setting the tone for whomever the female in question was for that episode. Every episode was crafted to be in service of the subject matter at hand, which when compared to the conventional method of creating episodes, could be seen as a liberal act for the betterment of creative freedom on the staff's behalf.
If you're reading this review then you're already familiar with the characters of this universe; nothing really changes. It's still the mischievous and slightly perverted Arararararargi being surrounded by a bevy of zany females. And while the main series seems to be zigzagging with its plot constantly, the benefit of this mostly episodic format made these specials far more palatable and easier to follow.
Enjoyment: 5/10
I often found myself spacing out and rewatching several scenes of this show. The content itself is fine, but it contains stories and characters I honestly don't care about. This was made for the fans, not me, so it's really unfair to evaluate it for doing its job. This wasn't made with everyone in mind; this is a niche project that knew who its target audience was. So while I might not find much here to enjoy, there will be those who eat this up, simple as that.
Overall: 6/10
These specials are without question self-indulgent excuses to revisit the world of Arararararargi and friends. Is that necessarily a bad thing? No, not really. As it stands, it doesn't hinder the integrity of the franchise as a whole and serves as a decent enough deviation from the main story for fans to partake in. It's just as eccentric and warped as anything offered in the shows prior and did a commendable job maintaining the same level of quality found in a typical episode of Monogatari. This was made for the die-hard fans of this franchise, and with that said, if you've been apathetic or just detested the series up to this point, then don't waste your time here. However, if you're an avid follower of this ongoing series and for some reason hasn't viewed this installment yet, I highly suggest you check it out soon.
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Mar 28, 2016
Koyomimonogatari
(Anime)
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Mixed Feelings
In several of my anime reviews, I've spoken about titles that split the community, and this same principal also applies to series that span several iterations and installments. And If there was ever an anime series that immediately invoked contention among anime enthusiasts it would be that of the Monogatari franchise, with fans on one side proclaiming it as the "crème de la crème of anime" and naysayers labeling it as pseudo-intellectual fanservice-bait for plebeians. Since its anime debut in 2009, that tug-of-war relationship has shown no signs of letting up. With such bipolar opinions between parties, there seems to be only one solution to
...
Reviewer’s Rating: 6
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Boku dake ga Inai Machi
(Anime)
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Not Recommended
With any established community there are traditions that take fruition from within it. And when it comes to the anime community that tradition can be seen with the ritualistic assignment of labels that is accompanied with every new seasonal lineup. Each season's catalog is cherry-picked through by the ascending masses to be filed away in neat little categories that're decided by whatever the common consensus is at that time. And it's thanks to this unspoken system that we get our "anime of the season," "hidden gems" and "BURN WITH FIRE" shows that, for the most part, seems to be what the general audience agree upon.
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But among these rank-and-filed titles, we always have at least one show that splits the community into opposing camps; with one side exalting it as the next best thing since sliced bread and the other side wanting its head on a stick. These contentious titles ignite the embers of flame wars across several forums and opens the floodgates for keyboard warriors to caps lock the hell out of each other. These are often the most "hyped" show for that given season and tend to remain that way long after its airtime. Ladies and gentlemen, Boku dake ga Inai Machi (or Erased) is without question that title for Winter 2016.
If I was to give a very brief overview of Erased it would be this: engaging 1st half, deplorable 2nd half. Erased is the type of show that will get under many peoples' skins. There are titles, that upon a 1st glance, you could easily deduce that it will be no better than B-grade schlock, and then there's shows that genuinely get your interest. For most, Erased will be the latter. With a somewhat firm grasp on cinematography, color placement and all around competency in crafting a grounded setting, Erased upon initial viewing, appeared to be one of the most promising prospects from Winter 2016. It exuded this feeling of self-control over its actions that became quite easy to buy into. A reassuring appearance that it will be a smooth ride from start to finish. The reason these kind of titles are more bothersome as opposed to the shows that are instantly identified as bottom-rung, is that with lesser tier titles, there's no expectations set for it. When I view an "Akame Ga Kill" or "Asterisk War" level show, quality is the last thing that comes to mind. I know as a viewer that what I'm getting ready to watch will, at its very best, be easily digestible excerpts of things I've seen done far better. On the other hand, shows that allure me into anticipating something far more substantial carries with it a higher sense of investment. So when these titles fall under their own weight, it packs a bigger punch. As a viewer, there's nothing more disheartening to witness than untapped potential being flushed down the toilet. And like its namesake, Erased "erased" any chances of being herald as anything more than a novelty act. Instead of reciting the synopsis I'll go right into addressing where Erased showed commendable effort and how it eventually unraveled into a hokey hogwash. Time-travel as a plot device in any story can be a fickle thing to work with, the slightest overuse or tampering of it to alleviate inevitable conclusions can quickly result in audience backlash with the collective chant of "bullshit!" being ushered out in response. The best use of time-travel is really not using time-travel at all but there's a reason why it's still a compelling tool for writers to dabble with. It can open up scenarios and prospects that previously were made unavailable in the conventions of regular stories. So the reasonable solution for those instances is finding restraint in when and how time-travel is used in the confines of the narrative being presented. This was an area that Erased seemed to have covered relativity well. The main character can jump back in time a few minutes before something tragic happened, as stated by the synopsis. What made this use of time-travel welcoming was that despite this ability, he himself has no true control over these time jump occurrences; the option to jump at will is out of his hands. With this stipulation set in place, Erased found a reasonable limitation to work with. It eliminated the misuse of time-travel by the protagonist to retcon any events whenever the writer sees fit. But as you may have surmised by my statements regarding this show's 2nd half, this established restraint doesn't remain constant, and that spells the first major misstep of the show. The second major catalyst that crippled Erased was its genre itself. Marketed as a mystery anime, Erased spent a great deal of time foraging through its settings and characters living in it. This is what indirectly set up the first half to seem so promising. There were layers of detail being caked onto the "mystery" story, which helps to better define it to the audience. Erased felt like a place not too far out of reach from our own world, thanks in no small part to the extra time dedicated to making the experience as cinematic as possible. With widescreen angles (Letterboxing) implemented in certain crucial moments, to off-kilter camera angles that helped express messages without the need for expository dialogue, everything the show was doing up to a certain point showed a level of quality not often seen in the anime industry. It was able to build suspense using music cues and proper lighting, giving life to its mystery through comprehensible visual motifs and proper use of color placement. The show expressed capabilities far more common in the world of cinema than what anime usually dabbles with. It's for reasons like these that many flocked to it, labeling it as one of the best without so much as to second guess their stance. And ultimately it's this that also fended off proper judgment for the far inferior 2nd half. The frenzy was too high for rationality to kick in. While the quality of the show's visual and audible presentation remained relatively consistent, the same could not be said about the writing. When I mentioned the show's genre being a detriment, this is where that becomes apparent. With the primary genre being "mystery," one would think a great deal of time would be dedicated to making that aspect as foolproof as possible, but what we got was nothing short of underwhelming. To those unfamiliar with the purpose of a 'red herring' in a story, it's something or someone that's manifested and exists for the purpose of misleading the viewer from the truth. It's like the slight of hand trick practiced by a magician, while the real action is happening out of sight. A red herring isn't supposed to be your answer but rather a falsehood that takes on the shape of an answer. In a mystery story, red herrings are those clues that lead to a dead end, or the suspects surrounding the true culprit that detracts the viewer from the correct answer. At no time is a red herring suppose to be a final conclusion. Even when there is an attempt to subvert this fact, all that does is make what appears to be the "truth" to be nothing more than another red herring in disguise. So when Erased effectively missed this fundamental fact, it is nothing short of baffling. In what was an attempt to curve the obvious fake out into the actual truth, Erased single-handily shot itself in the foot. These are the actions of a satire that pokes fun of the genre, not a show that is a part of it, which made the mystery of Erased to be an unintentional joke to those keen to this fact and an underwhelming reveal to those still infatuated with the show up to that point. No one walks out a winner, both cynics and fans alike lose in this situation. Had Erased place in some kind of deviation from the elephant in the room this wouldn't be a problem but poor planning sadly killed those chances. This anime was one script revision away from being passable. Even if one was to view the show as a thriller (a very common excuse used by detractors that stand against the title's criticisms), it still doesn't hold much merit. A thriller, like its namesake would imply, is a genre that's supposed to "thrill" the audience with an exciting, often intense plot, where the tension feels ever-present and a sense of urgency is placed on the viewer for the character's well-being. It's wound up dread followed by cathartic release. A very textbook component that's the backbone of any successful thriller. That being said, it's hard to be "thrilled" when the narrative makes irrational decisions that quickly breaks immersion, or deflate any tension that was built up with an anticlimactic conclusion. You're supposed to be in a state of nervous anticipation as to the outcome of a storyline, not scratching your head questioning the leaps in logic of said outcome. If a convenient ticket out of every impending danger is offered to the characters, then how could their predicament be anything short of a temporary bump in the road? Without a proper end result to any build-up, the show is essentially leaving you mentally flaccid. When a show continuously makes decisions that negate risk or impending danger, then it ceases to lack consequence in the eyes of the viewer. A thriller with no substantial consequence is like a mystery with no red herrings; and wouldn't you know it, Erased ended up being insufficient in both aspects. This half-baked writing also seeped its way into the visual presentation, as the show's ineptitude in handling its symbolism and motifs became quickly apparent. What is important to note is the proper usage of these elements in a story and not the actual meaning of said elements. In any form of grounded storytelling, symbolism and motifs are suppose to be implemented with finesse. They're placed there to add subtext to what is being presented at face value. They're things that don't necessarily need to be identified to properly understand what you're watching, but upon analytical inspection, adds a new layer of meaning to what is presented on screen or implied in the narrative. To put it in layman's terms, they're like brownie points for those that dig deeper into the subject matter they're presented with. That being said, when these literary devices are spoon fed to the audience, it defeats the purpose of their usage. At that point, it's no longer a praiseworthy effort, but something that's equally detestable with the likes of lazily implemented expository dialogue. It's the difference between letting the visuals and action speak for themselves, oppose to beating the audience over the head with the obvious answer (Yes MothersBasement, red = danger.. In other news, cows go moo). Something being symbolic doesn't inherently make it good, an aspect that Erased failed to comprehend. And like a snowball effect, all these shortcomings kept on culminating into something far too glaring to be rectified. This brings us to the conclusion of the plot in the show's 1st half, which saw our protagonist Satoru muster everything in his power to protect Kayo. All of the show's efforts were slowly crafted around this plot. It was a gradual buildup to Kayo's revelation in the story. This brought with it the show's best efforts. Viewers were swayed into investing in this conflict, which became more gripping by each new episode. "Will Satoru finally save her?" "Would his efforts be in vain?"; these and many more questions were raised along with the stakes as things drew closer to its final destination. And after all the layers of suspense, all that attachment, all that investing... the conclusion quickly deflated in value by a poorly-realized, rushed solution that saw a character be re-written and patronized, while simultaneously removing one of the central focuses from the story entirely. So when one of the biggest investments for many viewers were removed from the equation, all these aforementioned issues that were initially dismissed, no longer had anything to hide behind. The shit was out in the open, it was just a matter of stepping back to finally realize it. If I had to say what the biggest issue with Erased was it would be that all of the great aspects of it, all of the promises it made, and all of the standards that it set, was quickly counteracted by the occurrence of everything in the 2nd half. While the same issues were also there in the 1st act, it was never made apparent when the show pulled focus away from it. For every high point that Erased offered, an equally appalling low point balanced it out. It was a duality that kept it from being any better than where it ultimately ended up in the end. Enjoyment: 6/10 For the first 6 episodes or so Erased was quite the enjoyable experience. I was invested in the conflict, I wanted to see the protagonist succeed, as well as uncover the mystery surrounding the killer. The show had my interest. But just as quickly as it drew me in, it lost me with the same speed. The 2nd half of Erased is nothing short of painfully mediocre to intellectually insulting. It was disappointing to see what it could have been, and how it turned out instead. Overall: 4/10 Erased could have been great, what it did well it did exceedingly well, the potential was there in ample proportions. But almost like a countermeasure, when it faltered it didn't just trip a little before catching itself, no, when it fumbled, it pretty much fell down a flight of stairs, breaking every bone on its way down. So do I recommend Erased even with acknowledgment of this? Yes, I do. Despite what trouble it had, later on, the 1st half was enjoyable enough to still warrant giving it a try. You may not like the end result but there's enough inherent value here for the 12 episodes to be worth going through for yourself.
Reviewer’s Rating: 4
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Mushishi Zoku Shou 2nd Season
(Anime)
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Recommended
As understood by most sensible viewers that dissect the content they watch, anime, throughout the years, has become an expressive form of art in its own way. It's a medium that utilizes and relies heavily on audiovisuals in accompaniment with a script to bring a story to life; a story that takes on new impressions and interpretations depending on the creative choices taken up by those involved. Sometimes this art is used as a vehicle to service self-indulgent shows, and other times, it's used for something that's worth its salt. Regardless of the quality of the title, or the effort on the part of the
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creators, what remains true is that in some way or another, they can all be considered "art." Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder after all, and as long as an individual finds something to be aesthetically appealing, whether that be a visual experience with plot or a visual experience with "plot," that's all that really matters at the end of the day.
But sometimes, among the clutter, you'll stumble across titles that take it a step further, it doesn't simply use audiovisuals as a tool to compensate for whatever is written, but rather, it embodies both breathtaking audiovisuals and proper storytelling to become something far loftier. It reaches an equilibrium that's usually unobtainable by many that strive for it. Finding a delicate balance that's almost ethereal in quality, something that can't truly be expressed and appreciated until it is experienced first-hand. And for many that actively follow the anime industry for an extended period of time, one title that reaches that benchmark in terms of quality is, with little dispute, Mushishi. While all anime could be considered "art" in its own way, Mushishi itself is like a master canvas being brought to life; it's art personified. The elegance and command in which it carries itself is both awe-inspiring and inviting. It doesn't take long before you're sucked into its universe, with vignettes of lush, layered color and soothing imagery that quickly breathes life into its folklore and characters living in it. Everything feels organic, undisturbed by human tampering. It's a feeling that many titles have attempted to emulate but very rarely coming close to sharing the same living quarters with Mushishi's level. Following our protagonist, Ginko, we find ourselves back on a journey that feels unwavering to the current anime climate that surrounds it. Almost a full decade after its first 2005 run, Mushishi shows no sign of compromise, containing the same dense melancholic atmosphere and simplistic, yet universal messages that made it a household name among anime fans, to begin with. Just this fact alone is impressive enough, given the market's current need to produce more self-indulgent works. Any fan of the first season will be more than satisfied with this follow-up. You could even inter-splice the episodes from both seasons and not notice any change in terms of quality, outside of a more gussied up art and animation output of course. But despite that fact, or maybe because of it, this follow-up season may technically reach the same heights as the first but can't help shake the feeling that there's just a sense of something being absent. This isn't to say this season wasn't a great sequel; on the contrary, it's one of the best entries of the 2010s, but rather, there was an element that the first had that didn't seem to transfer quite as well. It's a missing ingredient, an "aha" moment that seemed to have been lost in translation. This could be a result of the novelty of the mushi and their mysterious functions growing less intriguing after seeing it play out numerous times before or a case of the second season being stuck with less impactful storylines. Either way, there was a slight disconnect to be found. The essence was still there, just more watered down this time around. But don't let that deter you, as this bit of grievance only comes as a result of comparing what I consider being "the lesser of both greats." By comparison to almost everything else being produced around it, Mushishi still stands tall, reaching the apex of visual storytelling that lands it so highly on most critics' "best of" lists, to begin with. One of Mushishi's strongest suits is its ability to never take sides in any conflict. It presents the story as is, and like the mushi that populates the universe of the show, everything here is treated as occurrences outside of malice or forced circumstances. Nothing is ever painted in stark black or white, it's a show that constantly dabbles in the gray. Like Ginko, we are mere spectators to the occurrences that happen in any given situation. Life is never picking favorites and the show knows that. Instead of catering to what would be favorable, all incidents that pan out to any given end result are usually determined by basic cause and effect. It doesn't wrap things up in a tidy little bow, like everything else in this world, the show simply moves on, uninterrupted by the personal struggles of man and creatures alike. This unspoken understanding is what makes the case by case basis of each episode to feel so engrossing. You never know the outcome, there's no predictable line of thought; like nature itself, every occurrence simply... exists. But outside of the show's strong writing, the prominent feature of Mushishi that initially draws audiences in is without question the breathtaking scenery and haunting musical selection. Whether you like Mushishi or not, it cannot be denied that this title's prowess for crafting dense atmosphere is almost unrivaled. The blend of rich visuals and coaxing auditory cues brings forth a strong sense of pathos and satisfaction to whoever is consumed into the lore of its universe. Mushishi isn't simply something you watch, it's something you actively experience with each passing minute. The opening song "Shiver" by Lucy Rose is perhaps one of anime's most tranquil and transcending musical intros. It embodies everything Mushishi stands for in the brief 1:30 seconds it takes to lead us into any given episode. Capped off by the musical outros that transition itself with a seamless quality and you have yourself a complete package. This doesn't even touch upon the gorgeous soundtrack, which was comprised of a mixture traditional Japanese instruments with other ear-grabbing pieces; from the slow introduction of the Kugo harp that's later accompanied by the softly plucked strings of a Shamisen, to the less common Handpan bell that interweaves itself into the mix to create walls of textured sound. All instruments playing off the strengths of each other, a balancing act of synchronicity and purposeful calculation. The music here is simply therapeutic. There are many instances throughout the show where no word of dialogue is even uttered, but instead, leaves only long sweeping vistas of nature to keep the audience entranced in its world. Something that's properly exemplified with the introduction of each new episode, as the title banner slowly fades in, the landscape shifting behind it with steady ease. Not many shows can boast that ability of instant immersion. It's even elevated further when the music slowly chimes in without even bringing attention to itself. Working as the backbone to the scenes being presented but never overstepping its boundary; an act of complete unison, giving a voice to the textures and shapes that make up the feature presentation. It's these moments where Mushishi shines the brightest; these moments of uninterrupted serenity. Moments that hold onto you long after the credits roll, leaving an almost sticky and instantaneous feeling of nostalgia. Enjoyment: 10/10 There are very few shows that I think unquestionably deserve their place at the top of anime's podium and Mushishi is one of them. It's a title that never ceases to amaze me with its simplicity and beauty. Nothing is wasted here. Every aspect coalesces into an artistic goldmine, where great writing, visual presentation, and enjoyment completely harmonizes to give birth to an experience that forever stays with you. To me, it's a project that has transcended the medium altogether, becoming something far more significant as a result. It's an all time favorite, a show I can revisit at any time with the reassurance of its quality forever holding firm. Overall: 8.5/10 Mushishi isn't great for any complex philosophical pondering or sociological observations; what makes Mushishi so great is that it doesn't try to impress the viewer by subjecting some kind of birthright of importance. It doesn't draw attention to itself, it isn't an ostentatious try-hard screaming at the top of its lungs for a chance at the limelight. It simply shows what it has to offer and leaves it upon the viewer to take the initiative in exploring its layers. There's a zen-like quality that sweeps into every crevice of this anime, and those willing to get invested into it will surely find something worthwhile tucked between the folds of its narrative.
Reviewer’s Rating: 8
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Argento Soma
(Anime)
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Recommended
When a show is described as a "hidden gem" it immediately calls into mind something that you've stumbled upon by happenstance with no prior expectations. These are the titles that come in and out of focus partially thanks to the presence of much more all-encompassing works made around the same time period. It's a common occurrence that spans across every medium but perhaps most notable in anime, where only a handful of shows per year are thrust into the limelight, while the rest are left to gather up dust and become yet another mortared in brick to support the weight of the juggernauts resting on
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top of it. These "hidden" titles were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Like in the case of 2015's superhero show Concrete Revolutio, which unfortunately had to compete for views in the same season that aired the much more popular One Punch Man. Or even self-indulgent titles like Sword Art Online, which ultimately received a far bigger viewer base than 2012's Accel World, an anime made by the same author, Reki Kawahara. Had these shows aired at a different time, the chances of it receiving better coverage could have been amplified, for better or for worse.
And when it came to being at the wrong place at the wrong time, Argento Soma could not have picked a more unfortunate release date; being produced during a period where any title with the slightest use of biomechanics and distressed young pilots were quickly dismissed as "Evangelion clones." This decade-long dark period also saw with it the likes of RahXephon, Brain Powerd, Fafner of the Blue Sky, Gasaraki, Brigadoon, Betterman and much more receiving that label for either legitimate reasons, or simply for the sake of grouping anything remotely similar under the same umbrella. Argento Soma was no different, becoming another statistic forced to carry the burden of that appointed buzzphrase. The reason for the label was pretty self-evident too, given the ominous aura that was ever-present throughout the mecha show's production; the pervasive nature of that 90s to early 2000s aesthetic that dominated all genres at the time, where anime entries were drenched in a pensive temperament, often dissecting itself and the broader storytelling landscape as a whole. This all served towards Argento's quick dismissal, almost being instantly forgotten upon arrival. But that's where the thin line of surface-level evaluations ended, as the show never stayed under Evangelion's thumb. Unlike the fate befalling some of its brethren like RahXephon, whom to this day still can't shake that "Eva-clone" label, Argento quickly grew into its own identity, taking a stance against its patriarch and choosing to draw from influences outside the medium altogether. Its statement may have been lost in the clutter, but for those that heard it—and more importantly—understood the bold proclamation; what they came to encounter was nothing short of an interesting artifact. To quote the words of the infamous ThatAnimeSnob: "Argento Soma, is to me, a deconstruction of Neon Genesis" and honestly, that's as befitting of a description as any. Instead of following the trendsetter at that time, Argento chose to challenge it in a way not seen before or since. Argento Soma is a "hidden gem" in every sense of the term. Starting off in a semi-episodic structure, we're introduced to our protagonist and residential edge-lord, Takuto Kaneshiro, who, like many others, found himself involved in a lifestyle where the military's far-reaching hand became a part of everyday life, thanks to an ever-present threat of alien invaders. After a series of unfortunate events, Kaneshiro took on an officer role in a paramilitary group called Funeral; a subsidiary of the army made for the sole purpose of combating the increasing wave of alien invasions. And as the fight against these extraterrestrials rages on, new information is slowly unveiled that changes not only the course of the battle but also humanity's stance on the perceived threat as a whole. The biggest forewarning that should be brought to your attention before viewing this is the choice of pacing. Argento Soma operates with a sense methodical arrangement, where everything is laser-focused to serve its characters and narrative, as it slowly builds towards its penultimate third act, where all its careful planning exfoliates into a much grander concept. A slow-burn that never concerns itself with side-show theatrics to maintain short-term attention spans, and as such, may require a bit of patience on the part of the viewer. It's the defining feature that separates sci-fi from hard sci-fi, Stars Wars from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Where the minutia of individual character involvement and the events of all things big and small are all held accountable; introduced with the promise of a return in investment. If pathos drove Evangelion, then Argento functions on precision. The benefits of this slower-paced first act can be seen with the metamorphosis of our protagonist, as well as the side characters that make up his surrounding environment. As already stated in the synopsis, Kaneshiro is motivated by vengeance, which gives way to a lead that's enveloped in a lot of mental grief and suffering due to his circumstances. He's possessed by this idea of "getting even" with the aliens that robbed him of normalcy and happiness, and it's seeing this very mindset mold him that brings a great deal of intrigue towards his growth throughout the series. As if donning a mask to hide his true feelings, we come to know Kaneshiro for a majority of the show by the alias Ryu Soma. An alias he chooses to adopt when becoming a member of the Funeral organization. But beyond the need to shield his identity, what's truly being put on guard is the person himself. Kaneshiro is in a state of denial about his shortcomings. Something we're made privy to as the veneer behind his actions slowly washes away, and he's forced to confront the true source of his grief. The first half of the show entertains a "monster of the week" formula but never places it center-stage to its true intentions: the character involvement and the grander concept that awaits them later down the line. In fact, it could be argued that the first half of the series is merely there to flesh out the world, give weight to the increasing alien threat, and more importantly, to add dimension to our cast of characters. In order to achieve this, the show develops its cast byways of a collective character study; a situation where the actions of one could indirectly paint a picture of another. Developments that come as a result of close-quarters interaction. And as all of this is being done, a slow paradigm shift from a character-driven story to narrative-based one is slowly being orchestrated in the background, as the show works its way towards the final thematic proclamation. One that makes broad implications yet remains intimate at its core. And while screen-time is evenly distributed to most side characters to help achieve this third act revelation, the primary focus is always awarded to Kaneshiro. Seeing his slow metamorphosis and growth as a character was quite fascinating. His brash and somewhat pigheaded persona never felt like artificial drama but was branched out from a place of genuine angst. There was a poignancy there, something that similar works fail to grasp. He's driven by a need for redemption and lashes out, not because he's justified in his actions, but because the moment he seeks for the answer through introspection, the truth revealed is far crueler than the scapegoat he designates for his revenge. He's drowning in self-pity, searching for any means of resurfacing. And seeing his struggle, contemplation, and eventual catharsis through acceptance was something well worth the price of admission. For those that have seen and appreciated Argento Soma, it's hard to fault the show's usage of deliberately slower pacing, as it's that very attribute that made its methodical reveals effective. But perhaps it's because of that that the show is practically unknown to a vast majority today. This isn't to suggest that the show had filler, but rather, it lets the narrative operate organically for far too long at times, even when it was done under careful observation. Ironically, the very free-flowing narrative that helped gave the events of the story a naturalistic expression is the same thing that contributed towards alienating its viewership. It was simply too long-winded for those that couldn't get behind this perceived "slower" pacing. This, as a result, has caused the few that have heard of it to either dismiss it altogether or shy away after getting wind of the unwarranted "Eva clone" mantra; a buzzphrase that offered a quick surface-level way to escape further elaboration. This anime suffers not because of the actual content but because of the audience that surrounded it. As condescending as this statement may sound, this anime is intended for a more refined viewer, someone that understands the fundamentals of proper storytelling and the need for carefully planned build up to give later events more substantial impact. It's the difference between a person taking the time to appreciate the fragrance and taste of aged wine, as opposed to merely swigging it with the intent of getting shit-faced. The difference is patience and consideration. And for a medium that is known for attracting people that seeks expedience, Argento's quaint methods places it at a disadvantage. Thankfully, for those willing to shift mindsets to accommodate this show's approach, it offers enough to justify its actions. For one, the show never viewed things through an ideological lens but chose to let the content speak for itself. This made decisions on the characters' behalf to hold greater meaning. No one was ever "good" or "bad," they were simply human, making decisions that they deemed to be the best one. This sense of moral ambiguity was shared among all characters, whether their role was of primary concern or held tertiary value to the plot. And since the leads were composed of adults, it paved the way for far more nuances in their interactions than what you'll typically get from an anime cast overpopulated by teens. Adults weren't simply nowhere to be found while adolescence ran around "saving the day." This was a show that had enough decency and common sense to realize that including adults was not only appropriate but essential when it came to settling the moral dilemma of characters' choices. There are no redheaded tsunderes or emotionally detached lolis running the day-to-day operations of the military, but fully-grown competent leaders that think before they leap. To sell the seriousness of a story's conflict, accountability should come before marketability. Teen protagonists may sell like hotcakes for anime, but that's usually at the cost of legitimacy towards how plausible a scenario could be. Sadly, this is something that's mostly lost in the clutter of many anime titles, where teens seem to be the only characters of relevance. But in a way, it's because of tropes like these that the cast of Argento feels so refreshing by default. Whether the creators were cognizant of this or not, their decision to have a cast where there's only one teen, while everyone else was either young adults or older, ended up working out in their favor. This is yet another defining feature that contrasts Argento from its patriarch. If Evangelion's relatability is with that of teens, then Argento shifts to the next logical step, cataloging sentiments meant for young adults to connect to. Teens blame the world, while young adults learn that taking ownership for their actions is the key needed to depart adolescence before entering the next chapter of their lives. It's differences like that where Argento truly shines. Where its autonomy from the "Eva clone" mantra becomes crystal clear. Beyond these strong narrative distinctions, the art and animation for Argento held up surprisingly well, as it contained fights that had a sense of weight to it, where the individual movements and the environment felt well-documented. From the swing of an incoming punch to gestures characters make under extraneous circumstances; every encounter was given agency. While there are instances where the show's age became apparent, it never got in the way of selling a scene. But perhaps the most notable inclusion was the striking character designs themselves, which looked like a crossbreed of sleek runway model-like postures and the lengthy stone-faced appearance of Gundam Wing's regulars; which isn't much of a surprise, given that Shukou Murase handled both Wing and Soma's character design work. This could also be seen with another Post-Eva work that he was involved in with Gasaraki. His aesthetic sensibilities are quite unique, taking anatomical body proportions and giving it a specific vogue-like neo-gothic edge. To get into specifics, the appearance of the main character was, for the lack of a better word, cool-looking. It's a type of blend between brooding and swagger that's rarely captured this well, but when done right, lead to some attractive creations. Where the character designs lost points for creativity was with the aliens themselves, which lacked variety, as it was relatively the same design with exception given to the one known as "Frank." The show could have greatly benefited with a few more distinct variations than the carbon copy lineup that was offered instead. While it could be argued that that decision to keep them all looking the same was made to correlate thematically with the show's "big reveal" towards the latter half, finding a way to work in more creative liberties to how they looked was still something that they should have entertained. Another issue that would immediately jump out at you was the characters' noses, or should I say, the lack thereof. If Escaflowne is infamous for its Pinocchio schnozzles, then Argento stands as its antithesis, sporting the Michael Jackson look whenever someone is facing the viewer. Thankfully, it isn't a jarring feature for long, as the problem subsides the more you watch it, similar to the effect Escaflowne had with its initial viewing. The show's soundtrack was a mix-bag of melancholic songs, all synchronizing under the same dreadful feeling that loomed over the entire series. And while the soundtrack served its purpose well, tonally the genres were scatterbrained. They were unified under the pensive tone each had, but that's about it. The opening theme captured the essence of the title quite well, having a bittersweet swooning vocal passage carried off by the swelling rise of the instrumentals; a balance between sorrowful pitfalls and hopeful ascensions. The same cannot be said about the ending theme, however, which was quite jarring and far too bushy-tailed for the sobering tone that the series gave off. It was as if someone started playing the Bee Gees "Stayin' Alive" during a funeral session. Outside of a few minor nitpicks here and there, the show does have its fair share of issues outside of pacing (for those bothered by the idea of slow buildup), one of which was its decision to name things in a manner that feels entirely too superficial. You see, Argento Soma was Sunrise's not so subtle attempt at patterning specific name and events after a classic novel, and in this case, that ended up being Frankenstein. But outside of the first episode, naming the found alien revived by a mad scientist "Frank," and having facilities and organizations named "Morgue" and "Funeral," there was very little that paralleled the classic novel and film itself. Instead, it's safe to say that the show only superfluously borrowed these titles, and had it been changed to anything else, nothing of significance would have been affected thematically. The usage of these titles should be treated as more of a motif than anything with symbolic annotation. In short, ignore the relevance of these titles. Just as Evangelion's theology symbolism was nothing but window-dressing, so too is Argento's need to reference Frankenstein no more significant than an artistic choice. Naming aside, perhaps the most significant issue that the show faces has to do with the involvement of a character named Mr. X. Unlike the harmless usage of name choices, Mr. X's participation brought with it damaging plotting issues. This wouldn't be any more of an issue than what's usually found with most shows, but for one that operates with such precision, the inclusion of such a wildcard ended up jamming the cogs of what's been up to this point, a highly-functioning machine. Given how problematic his involvement is, I would save all of this for the spoiler section. Thankfully, not even the issues found with his inclusion could diminish the show's third act revelation, something I will also save for the spoiler section as well. With the first half of the series being dedicated towards the character and narrative buildup, it's the second half that the series began to strut its stuff. With carefully foreshadowed moments that started peeling back new layers to the plot, and characters growing alongside the story to match it, everything started to come together, as the reveal placed the show on a league of its own. It stepped out of the realm of usual anime fodder and took cues from cinema instead. All of its careful planning and character fixation was finally brought to fruition. The mysterious fog that hid all agendas had finally lifted, leaving nothing but the naked truth of the show's secrecy to be laid bare for the audience to see. With the revelation of the third act finally being unveiled, humanity, as the show comes to know it, was made humbled by the presence of something much more greater than itself. For those that have experienced what Argento had to offer, join me in the spoiler section as we discuss this in further detail. ***spoiler section*** What made the third act so great was beyond the theatrics of the event but what it came to represent thematically in the series. What it managed to set up, in the beginning, resulted in the last few episodes being what I could only describe as "2001: An Eva Odyssey." It took the ingenious vision of Kubrick's film and pushed beyond its ending point by introducing a prologue that saw with it the genesis of humanity as a species, and the exodus of a new stage of human evolution into a grander sentient being. It literally and figuratively showed our limited understanding when brought face to face with an advanced species. Where humanity saw a brutal, uncaring race of otherworldly creatures, in reality, it was humanity that was the uncultured simple-minded species incapable of comprehending something beyond our current intellect. It's like a 2D person trying to grasp the idea of a 3D object. This plot twist even paralleled the journey of Ryu Soma as well, which made it a multifaceted reveal that serviced both the narrative and the characters involved. It's an idea that could have easily crumbled under its own weight but manage to pull it off with such gravitas. And since Argento had already committed to making its content as grounded as possible, the potency of this reveal was amplified even further. This isn't to say that Argento tackled the idea to the pedigree reached by Kubrick's magnum opus; far from it. But the fact that it even took the idea and ran with it was awe-inspiring within itself. It's honestly one of the most spectacular latter halves I've seen from any anime, period. But outside of this achievement, the show does have a significant plot hole that hurt it towards the end, and that was the involvement of Mr. X. David "Mr. X" Lawrence is by far the worst part of the show because, with his involvement, poor planning or split decision making on the part of the creators was immediately exposed. Earlier in the series, Mr. X was introduced as a sort of "devil on the shoulder" character that seemed to only exist in Soma's head. With his red hair, devilish features, and constant consumption of apples (obvious forbidden fruit reference), we as an audience was meant to believe that he was, in fact, a figment of the protagonist's imagination. But due to what I could only describe as a poorly executed retcon, this character was introduced as a flesh and blood human being that existed all along. Where the problem lies with that is that throughout the show, he was shown to have the ability to seemingly appear and disappear without anyone else outside of Soma acknowledging him. So when the reveal is made that anyone could have seen him all along, it rendered many instances of him appearing out of nowhere (from what we were shown) to be utter bullshit. One could argue that because of Soma's borderline delusional state, he simply couldn't follow Lawrence's movements and that his high-tech skills allowed him to evade cameras and personnel easily, but that still leaves the question as to how and why others were incapable of seeing him up until the point of the reveal. This was sadly a plot hole with close to no proper explanation given, but one I chose to consciously dismiss given everything else that the show had executed well in regards to the "Space Odyssey" third act, as well as Ryu Soma's character arc. That doesn't stop Mr. X from being a problem, and it's for that reason that my score was ultimately lowered. But aside from that point, nothing will take away that feeling of being awestruck that came about from the show's final act. ***end of spoilers*** Enjoyment: 9.5/10 I've never been one to care about the average scores accumulated by MAL users, but below 7 for this show is criminally low, perhaps being one of the most underrated and undeserving ratings given to any series I've stumbled upon in the medium up to this point. Sadly misunderstood, a show with so many layers that it effectively deafened itself to the general populace. And rather than take the time to decipher its themes, the quicker solution was to subject it to semantics and label it as an "Evangelion clone." Ignorance is bliss, unfortunately, that comes at the cost of things of greater value being dismissed by the collective out of convenience. As a fellow anime enthusiast, I saw this at the right time, never once being bothered by the episodic first half or the methodical pacing that it chose to contain everything in. With intriguing characters and a plot that slowly revealed its hand, the more I watched it, the more engrossed I became. The protagonist was one I've seen done wrong so many times before that finally seeing his type done right was quite rewarding. Very few protagonists struck a chord with me in the way he did. This was a show that only grew on me as it went along, and after episodes 16-18, it became an addiction I couldn't stop watching. It was modest, never once flexing its accomplishments to obtain any further appraisal. It simply told its story and let the viewers that took the time to understand it to take from it what they will. It's that kind of quality that I actively seek out in media. And it's that very reason that Argento Soma won me over, flaws and all. Overall: 7.5/10 This title is not for the impatient. For those that enjoy and understand the need for carefully planned build up, the payout is satisfactory, but for anyone else seeking instant gratification, you shouldn't bother with this. I don't like to advocate the saying of "you're not ready for this show yet," but in all honesty, sometimes that's just the case. This is a show that could only be appreciated by certain viewers past a threshold with their experience exploring the medium. One only accessible to those well-versed in titles of now and those of yesteryear. To truly know the legacy, the lineage, the very building blocks that make up its foundation. But perhaps more importantly, it requires a mindset that's moved beyond the "critics before art" phase. To receive what this show has to offer is to approach it divorced of any pretense, of any conceit. Humility is a must. And as a viewer, until you've gotten past these crossroads, I suggest keeping this one tucked away for a later date. I can't promise that you'll receive the same level of payout that I did, but I can assure that anyone in the right mindset to accept what it has to offer will, at the very least, be given something deserving of the price of admission.
Reviewer’s Rating: 8
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0 Show all Jan 1, 2016 Mixed Feelings
The 2015 seasonal lineup have given rise to several shows surrounding superheroes and their antics. From the well-known juggernauts like One Punch Man, to the more paradoxical ones like Punch Line; superhero stories seem to be on an all time rise, which can be a direct respondent to the recent boom for superhero films surging in the west. With the success of The Avengers, currently one of the highest-grossing movies of all time, and Marvel's ever-expanding cinematic universe, as well as DC Comics, who has also thrown their hats into the ring to follow the trend, this phase isn't expected to die down anytime soon.
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Japan has always been influenced by the actions of big brother, and this is now being reflected in the world of anime, with the introduction of shows like 2013's Gatchaman Crowds and Samurai Flamenco, all the way up to what's being produced today. And like studio Bones's other 2015 show Kekkai Sensen (Blood Blockade Battlefront), which explored this idea in a less common way, they once again take that approach with Concrete Revolutio: exploring the inner workings of the would-be organizations that would form if superheroes truly exist. Similar in structure to the governing bodies found in movies such as The Incredibles and Men In Black, Concrete Revolutio focuses on the political maneuvering and policies that such an organization like that would have to navigate when dealing with "superhumans". The biggest difference from those movies, however, is the creative liberty that Concrete takes to toss in every supernatural entity in consumable media under the same umbrella, which results in the biggest supernatural orgy placed in a TV series format since the likes of X-Files and Once Upon A Time. Before we dive further into this review, I feel like it's absolutely essential to give a bit of context about studio Bones and their infamous reputation when it comes to dealing with plots in supernatural premise anime. Bones and proper writing meshes as effectively as oil and water. If there isn't a pre-written guideline to follow (and sometimes even that isn't enough), studio Bones can almost guarantee to write themselves into a corner, with convoluted narrative choices and contrived plotting. When it comes to visuals and auditory choices, they are often leagues ahead of the pack, but the moment it's time to work on the script, they're as proficient as a group of monkeys on a typewriter. Darker Than Black season 2, Eureka Seven AO, and recent entry Kekkai Sensen, are just the tip of the iceberg when discussing Bones's infamous track record. So as a forewarning, when you sit down to watch a Bones anime, good visuals are almost always pre-packaged with it, but unfortunately, the chances of a coherent narrative to accompany those visuals are as likely as a coin toss. Now let's make this clear, Concrete Revolutio isn't really "badly" written, just badly organized. Following the plot is somewhat manageable if you dig deep and pay attention to minute details, like setting changes and timeline placement. And as to be expected, the visuals were great, as they tend to be with the content the studio creates. But when it came to that coin toss on whether or not we would receive a coherent narrative, this is yet another Bones production that reinforces their standing as the ADHD studio. There may be a huge influx of superhero titles being produced in recent years, but none can boast the same kind of headache inducing clusterfuck narrative set forth by Concrete Revolutio. The story takes place during several timeline events that's intermingled into one overarching narrative. The first timeline that's introduced is the personal journey and eventual turncoat direction taken by Jirou Hitoyoshi, the show's protagonist, and window into the world of Concrete Revolutio. The other major storyline is dedicated to the macroeconomics and real world implementation of superhumans, coinciding with the organizations that would be created as a direct result of their presence. What brings both stories together is our protagonist himself, who is an agent that works for the 'Superhuman Bureau', which is one of the biggest governing bodies that oversee the handling of superhumans; may that be by suppressing those that they deem "dangerous", or using them as tools to further their agenda. What Concrete Revolutio deserves credit for is tackling the subject matter with some level of sobering realism. It's not often that we get a superhero story that bothers to explore the inner-workings of the politics and regiments needed to make such a world function. With shows like One Punch Man that only generally discuss the ideas of a superhero organization, or Samurai Flamenco that does so intermittently between arcs, Revolutio goes the extra mile by making the idea a primary focus, and scratches an itch that some viewers didn't even know they had for such a topic, to begin with. It was an interesting idea that blended the surreal world of comic book lore, with that of actual political maneuvering. But that's where the praise ends. Despite this intriguing premise, Concrete's plotting is nothing short of... mind-numbingly bad. Everything that it had going for it, from the retro comic-book inspired art-style, to the interesting storyline, is made null and void by Bones's inability to craft a coherent narrative. And this isn't to say an interwoven narrative about supernatural beings told in different timelines can't be done (anime titles such as Baccano and Durarara can attest to that). This is just another case of Bones being 'Bones', which is a shame since the potential for something good was there. Like I already said, if you pay enough attention you can piece the puzzle that is this narrative, but even when you do so, the resulting picture is as warped as anything laid down by Pablo Picasso. If you do decide to watch this anime, do so with the understanding that the story presented to you will be an utter mess. Not a bad story, I can't emphasize that enough, but simply a messy one. With that out of the way, let's discuss something that studio Bones do demonstrate competency in, and that's their visuals. As briefly mentioned, the show has a very nice art direction. Drawing inspiration from western comic-book panel work, we get a vivid depiction of the show's universe. With lots of saturated wall-to-wall color, stippling (halftone) effects, pop art illustrations and other key elements used, this show is great eye-candy. If you're a comic-book enthusiast or simply looking for a visual treat, this title should be on your radar, for it is nothing short of excellent in the art department. Following suit, we're also given a soundtrack that upholds the feeling found with superhero stories. With uplifting synthpop numbers, post-modern rock undertones, and quirky ambient sound-bites to help set the mood. It did a decent job in keeping in tempo with the actions being demonstrated on-screen. Despite no real musical cues really standing out, or any moment where I can say the soundtrack ever went above and beyond what's expected of it, It was still a cut above average, not impressive but still serviceable. Like the world the story takes place in, the characters are equally vibrant in personality and outward appearance. And if you could recall, I mention that the show included every fictional supernatural being in its universe, which led to quite a diverse lineup. While not as memorable individually, as a whole the characters introduced were expansive enough to keep things interesting. You never know what you'll get at any given episode. One minute we're following intergalactic sentient beings, and the next we're given magical girls from another dimension. It's hard to pinpoint or even describe the cast in any detail, when I said "the biggest supernatural orgy", I really do mean that. The biggest problem with the characters come from the main cast that we follow on a daily basis. They're not bad, but at the same time, they're just not that interesting. These are characters who's definitive personality traits are only as interesting as their superpowers. They're better defined by what they can do than who they are. Because of this, they're not people most viewers would find intriguing. They're mostly there to carry the plot along, rather than anyone that you'll want to personally invest in. All in all, the cast was fun but wasn't really anything beyond that. Enjoyment: 6/10 The premise and art style is what ultimately got me through this show. I never thought I would find the inner-workings of a superhero universe to be so interesting. But as far as enjoyment is concerned, Revolutio really fell short, thanks in no small part to the horribly executed plot. Overall: 5/10 Concrete Revolutio is a show that I hesitate to suggest trying out without mentioning a few precursors. This anime is NOT easy to follow, even for the more astute of viewers out there, nor is it rewarding as a story when it is all said and done. But if the idea of politics being incorporated into a superhero universe seems intriguing to you, then I say proceed with caution. Visually the show keeps up the track record of Bones's other works, but it sadly does nothing in improving their standing in the sloppy plotting department. Concrete Revolutio may not live up to its potential, but it's still something that contains some inherent value.
Reviewer’s Rating: 5
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0 Show all Dec 28, 2015 Mixed Feelings
Occult mystery stories have always been a staple for campfire gatherings and time-slotted entries for the SyFy channel. It's not the most "enthralling" thing out there, but for the sake of offering cheap thrills, some goosebump moments, and something to whet the appetite, I think it serves its purpose well in pop culture. Kagewani is a title that pretty much follows this rubric down to the letter. It isn't going to "waw" you with any pioneering ideas, nor will it find itself in your coveted "top 10 favorites" list. Instead, what this "animated" short offer is a fairly decent time-passer, serving as an intermission break
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before you take on the next show that you truly want to watch.
Told in a quasi-memoir like structure, the story of Kagewani was comprised of a series of anthology-like fables, where we find ourselves following Sousuke Banba, a scientist (or better yet, a supernatural detective), as he investigates the trail of carnage left behind by mysterious monsters that populate Japan. Sharing a personal life-altering encounter with these monsters, a majority of the story was dedicated to not only putting an end to the monsters' destruction but also exploring the backstory of Banba as well. The first thing that would immediately grab your attention is the uncommon art-style that Kagewani incorporates. Similar to another occult mystery anime, Yami Shibai, the art-style is akin to that of cardboard cutout paper-mache collages. Images that move across the screen like a puppeteer pulling strings. In most cases, this type of art-style may feel out of place, but for an anthology series that basically uses folklore to tell tales of strange happenings across Japan, the choice is perfectly at home. It gives everything an ominous vibe, a type of uncanny valley effect to the way everything moves and looks, which helps compensate for the lack of atmosphere not allotted to it otherwise. Of course, you'll have those individuals that immediately say that the show "is shit" for not following convention, but for those who like anime that diversify its style and art direction, it can serve as a unique entry. It isn't bad, just different. Another noteworthy thing is the monster design themselves; borrowing elements European fairy tales and merging it with Japanese kaiju designs to create interesting hybrids. As in the case of the art-style, these ugly monstrosities help out where the audiovisual output was lacking. Surprisingly enough, the music selection was virtually nonexistent. Outside of a few sparse sound effects here and there, and the ending theme song itself, there was very little here of note. Usually, shorts like these utilize music to help build its atmosphere, so seeing how little Kagewani took advantage of this chance to really up the creep factor was a bit disappointing. But this wasn't a series I really had much investment in, to begin with, so not like it mattered all that much. While it had its issues and doesn't go beyond being a novelty act, Kagewani did well enough under the time restraint and limited material it had to work with. It's not a title that you will probably remember in the long run, but I say it's still worth a try. It's short, to the point, and gets the job done, and at the end of the day, that's all that really matters.
Reviewer’s Rating: 6
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0 Show all Dec 28, 2015 Not Recommended
Generic: such a simple word, yet one that can also encapsulate a great deal of information with its utterance. Simply attach it to the title of a show and it works as a description without any need for further elaboration. Just say "it's generic" and a picture is immediately imprinted onto the minds of the audience as to what is to be expected. It's even better saying it out loud, follow after me and let's say it together:
"Owari no Seraph is generic!" Now doesn't that just roll off the tongue with so much ease? Fits like a glove doesn't it? It's like the word itself was ... tailor-made for this show. And perhaps that word is all that's needed to sum up this series. There's really no change when it comes to this ill-conceived hogwash of clichés and overused tropes. It's still a poor man's version of better shounen stories, it's still subpar in quality, and it's still an intoxicating pile of throw-away excerpts from better-established premises and ideas. Owari no Seraph is the "How to make a Basic Shounen for Dummies" in visual format. If 1st season didn't hammer that point in, then this season surely made sure to get the job done. But I guess there is one noticeable change worth noting, and that's that the show somehow manages to get worse. Through the magic of fujoshi bait, God awful writing and the power of friendship, this anime becomes a firework display of stupidity rarely achieved by many. It pushes forward into the throw-away abyss at breakneck speeds. And in its own way, it succeeds. It has proven that when you really try hard enough, when you really push long enough, and when you really care enough, you can enter even denser shounen bullshit territory. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you "Generic: the anime." Picking up from where we left off, we follow our protagonist MustProtectMyFamily-kun and the squadron of vampire slayers, as they gear up for an impending all-out battle with the vampires, in what is to be an attempt to regain control of Earth for the sake of humanity's survival. And while all this is going on, in the background, there's an even more sinister plan being conjured up by ImTheObviousBadGuy-sama and his cohorts. Now the setup for this season isn't all that bad, in fact, it's a traditional one that, if done right, can be quite rewarding to watch unfold. It's the classic clash of ideals, where opposition reaches a breaking point of unreachable compromise. The end all be all fight where the stakes are set on the highest pedestal. A Zero-sum dice roll, where only one side can walk away rewarded. These are the kind of stories that litter literature, cinema and TV on constant rotation, but despite that, can still offer up the same thrills and chair-gripping engagement expected from the best of them. But even when considering the long shelf-life that these kinds of stories offer, if it's poorly written, no amount of the garnishing and repacking can be done to salvage it. And to no one's surprise, Owari no Seraph isn't going to be a show that defies that unspoken rule. You see, the problem with Seraph isn't the premise or idea, but rather the piss poor execution of it. The show just doesn't seem to have the proper comprehension of what is needed for it to make this kind of story work. Its ineptitude runs deep into the core foundation of the show, from the garish narrative decisions to the downright terrible plot conveniences tossed in to bail itself out of a tight squeeze. Every turn and corner lead into another questionable writing decision that really exposes the lack of foresight on the part of the creator, and improper planning on the part of the scriptwriters. Throughout the show's run-time, this leads to numerous situations where our characters come face to face with death, only to have a last-minute dues ex machina tossed in to fish them out of troubled water. And this doesn't just happen a few times, it happens in an endless cycle, most notably with our main protagonist MustProtectMyFamily-kun, who inexplicably survives more shit than even what's possible with the aid of basic plot armor. It's like he himself becomes the embodiment plot armor, to the point where his existence is met with guaranteed immunity, regardless of consequence. This creates some of the most uninspired character struggle imaginable. There is zero tension to a story that goes out of its way to perform back flips around its lead. But this isn't only limited to him, almost everyone that's given a name and a back-story is automatically in the safe-zone, even if they're stabbed through vital organs. I can't properly explain this without taking a special mention of the show's ending. For the sake of avoiding spoilers, just pay attention to the numerous times where our main characters not only live through death marker injuries but also walk it off like it wasn't that big of a deal, it's quite laughable. The only ones 'biting the bullet' are characters that are clearly introduced for the sake of dying a few episodes later. The moment they're introduced, a death flag is planted smack dab on their forehead. It's an old trick that wasn't good in other stories and isn't good here either. But Owari no Seraph S2 isn't all bad, if anything, there was a noticeable improvement in its art and animation. The fights carry more weight behind it (non-figuratively speaking), the character models remained far more consistent from frame to frame, and the issue regarding the flat backgrounds are better worked around. It's a more palatable experience overall, and that, at the very least, deserves some credit. Also, the color choices seemed better implemented. For example, the reds (burgundy to be more specific) and greens were far more eye-catching than the often acid washed look of the 1st season. It wasn't that big of a change but it was enough to be noticed on a panel to panel comparison. As far as the soundtrack goes, most of the content from season one finds itself worked back into this season. If you liked S1's music score then S2 should suffice. However, the opening wasn't as instantaneous as the first. It feels more commonplace in comparison to the harmonious balance found between the vocals and instruments of the 1st season's musical number. Not a bad opening per se, just not as catchy as bellowing out "I'LL BE THERE, HOLD ON, THEY'LL CHANGE US SOMEHOW, SO WHERE ARE YOU NOWWW?", but it still gets the job done in its own way. Not singing in the shower level, but hey, music is subjective, so that depends entirely on the listener. Owari no Seraph's 2nd season does improve a few aspects that 1st season was lacking but it also implemented things that were far worse as well. It took one step forward only to take two steps back. It's not the most aggravating title to watch but at the same time, it doesn't have a reason to exist (outside of Wit Studio milking a fanbase it helped establish). Enjoyment: 5/10 Despite the more noticeable issues this season had in comparison to the 1st, I still can't bring myself to hate this franchise. It's really just a soulless product that comes and goes without registering any sort of response from me. The fights were better put-together but the narrative was more stupid. The animation was more eye-catching but the content being animated was dumb. In a way, it just balanced itself out. A series that's forever just "ok" in my head. Overall: 3.5/10 Owari no Seraph is a show that's either passable or outright rejected betting on one factor, and that's personal experience. Like I've stated in my season one review, this anime serves as a gateway title to help you get a little insight into the medium's norm and season two only furthers that trend. But where the line is drawn is that factor, that personal experience. If you've been an active follower of anime for an extended period of time, you've undoubtedly seen numerous titles that play out in the exact same order to what Owari offers. And from that vast selection, you've probably seen it play out far better as well. So with that in mind, this anime isn't made for long time anime viewers, it's made for the bright-eyed newcomers who haven't consumed enough of these fast food titles to grow sick of them yet. Owari no Seraph can serve as a title to get others into the medium, but as far as those already steadfast in it, I cannot in good conscience recommend this John Smith: serial number 28927.
Reviewer’s Rating: 3
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0 Show all Dec 27, 2015
One Punch Man
(Anime)
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When it comes to satires and parodies alike, there really isn't any sort of arithmetic equation or analytical evaluation needed to determine its value. To put it as simply, it all boils down to a rudimentary question: were you kept amused and were you entertained?
If you said "no" then that's fine, there really isn't any need to justify that answer any further, same also applies if you had said "yes." You see, shows geared to keep you amused are that simple, the same way disliking or liking a specific genre of music doesn't inherently determine its worth to the next person to listen to ... it. Of course, there are many different brands of comedies out there, some sub-genres of which can be measured by its degree of writing and comedic timing, but this should also come with the understanding that within the marginalizing of "comedy" as a genre, there are also room for low-brow humor that relies entirely on dick jokes and crass observations. I say all this to make this point, comedy, like music and other forms of interests that determine an individual's taste, is at essence, a subjective thing. And when something's worth is dependent entirely on whether someone is amused/entertained or not, it's automatically a magnet for contention. For everyone that finds a joke funny, there will be those that stand in opposition. One Punch Man is a joke that's rather predictable and repetitive if you only care for the punchline but at the same time, a great deal more satisfying if you're keen to the subject matter that's following up to its inevitable destination. In a way, it's an inside joke among friends, just done so for everyone else to hear. It isn't trying to hide it, there's no workaround into deciphering any deep seeded message. What you see is precisely what you get. One Punch Man is a lineage carried over from super sentai/superhero/shounen stories that took a look at itself in the mirror and came to a simple conclusion; that conclusion being that super sentai/superhero/shounen shows are hilarious. No really, think about it for a second. It's a form of storytelling that was forged from the need to give moral messages by embodying everything in basic "black or white" terms, where you either stand for good or evil. What makes it funny is that these absurd stories are often played straight with no witticism or awareness of its laughable morality message whatsoever. It's a stone-faced, Bible thumping message on morality that's delivered to its audience by grown men and women wearing brightly colored spandex. It's the kind of irony that's only feasible within the realm of fiction, but hilarious in real life when examined. Of course, the inherent silliness of superhero stories have given rise to many satirical outlooks on the subject matter, but for the most part, those aimed more so to poke fun of that form of storytelling, rather than laughing along with it. But every now and then we get a show that isn't out to sully the impact of the subject matter being satirized, instead, it embraces it to its full extent. Rather than teetering between comical nonsense and serious commentary, it decides why to bother holding up that facade, to begin with. It's a show that comes to the conclusion that if you're going to be bat shit crazy, you might as well go all the way. Ladies and gentlemen this long winded intro is written for the sole purpose of introducing an anime that does just that, One Punch Man. Not only is it aware of the utter nonsense that populates the super sentai/superhero landscape, but it figures that there's no point in trying to deny it. It's a show that revels in the stupidity with no shame or care for onlookers. It's an anime that's comfortable in its spandex suit and flaunts it for all to see. It's a joke that tells you to put away the analytical scrutiny, loosen up your thinking cap, and just come along for the good ole dumb ride that's about to take place. As I've already previously stated, your individualistic feelings for the show is the deciding factor on its inherent value. So with that being said, this review is written from the point of view of someone who, for the most part, found the journey with OPM to be satisfactory. Whether you disagree with this statement or not isn't important. I'm not here to tell you OPM is great, and I'm not here to tell you it's anything deeper than what it is; rather, I'm here to explain what kinks OPM managed to properly iron out, and where I as a viewer found noticeable bumps on the journey. While OPM provided a great deal of entertainment, it also had its fair share of issues that detracted from the overall experience. For one, if this anime was created with less effort on the part of the studio (Madhouse) with its audiovisuals, there would be little to credit it for otherwise. The driving force behind OPM is how pristine and well-oiled it looks and feels as a product. This is an anime that relies heavily on the platform of storytelling it is using. This is an anime that works so well because it IS an anime. It's the sense of scale behind every action being taken by our characters. The impact and fluidity of every animated movement. The hyper-detail behind every intricately choreographed action set-piece and moments of high-octane clashes. The flurry of saturated color that follows every frame. The elastic expressions of the personalities in motion. This is an anime that takes full advantage of its medium, and had it been a show that coasted along to a by-the-numbers checklist, there wouldn't be any need to discuss it at all. This was a passion project brought to life in spectacular fashion. Everything from the traditional heavy metal guitar riffs in the background, to the highly detailed shading of the character designs, makes this feel like more than an assembly line production simply made for profit, it became a work of passion. It stands to reason that the audiovisual presentation and aesthetic appeal was what propelled this show to instant stardom. So the question remains, why is it so aggressively detested by others? If you've seen the arguments from detractors of the show, you've undoubtedly caught wind of the "One Joke Man" mantra, and to be quite honest, that isn't a bad assessment of the show in a nutshell. Saitama, our lead character and resident impersonator of Mr. Clean, is a man that has grown bored of his acquired strength in pursuit to become a superhero. For reasons vaguely explained, he has reached a point where he can obliterate his foes in one punch. And if you were expecting a "but" at the end of that sentence, don't hold your breath, this is the joke. It's like the climatic end to a battle shounen, where our main character goes through his training arc and defeats the antagonist, after he hit his ultimate form of over-powered potential... but instead of simply ending the story there, we're given an extended "what if" prologue that asks the question: what happens after the final conflict is over, after our hero reaches the apex of the beat 'em up food chain? And from that question emerges this product; this joke. And while there is an overarching story unfolding in the background, it's the joke that takes precedence and placed on center-stage for our amusement. And it's this joke that creates the split among those who adore the show and those that carry around the "One Joke Man" picket sign in protest to its popularity. As trivial of an argument it may seem, this comedic gag is the reason for the rift among anime viewers, which has become a joke within itself (super meta shit). There are two main parts to the overarching story: one of which involves Saitama and his ironic post-climb to the top of a superhero organization to gain recognition, while also trying to fulfill his excessive need to seek out an enemy that can finally put up a challenge. And the other subplot revolves around his apprentice and eventual friend, Genos, who's goal can be seen as the stereotypical hero story of vengeance. And while both stories are played straight, it's the awareness the show has for its content which lets everyone in on the joke, and also what makes the parody of the subject matter both amusing, and in a weird way, self-indulgent. While the show follows these narratives in a fashion expected, it does so with a constant sense of witticism and deliberate elbow nudging. This, as a result, can lead to scenes where expository dialogue is given, while our lead is trying to dismiss it, the equivalent of which is like the character breaking the fourth wall and looking into the camera saying "isn't this shit boring? I wish he would shut up already!" It's these moments that make what can be seen as a fairly common story, into one that's not only fun to follow, but also something like brownie points for the viewer that are keen to the observations. It's an anime that actively interacts with the expectation of the audience watching it. And while these moments still play second-fiddle to the constant beat 'em up action on screen, it's those moments that give OPM its sense of identity. Speaking of the beat 'em up action, OPM effectively nails this aspect down without much debate. While the satirical moments sprinkled throughout shines in its own way, it's the fight scenes that elevates this title to a growing household name. It's the fuel behind the hype if you will. And while that may be a superficial reason to bolster its value, it's still a viable reason for the sake of consumable entertainment. One of its primary genres is action after all, and when it comes to action, very few shows can stand as competition to the consistent level of quality encapsulated in OPM. The characters of OPM are just that, characters. You're not looking at them for any profound message or character depth, rather it's the eccentricity of the personalities themselves that works. From the typical hero of justice stereotypes found in characters like Genos and Mumen Rider, to the more obvious satirized ones like Amai Mask and Metal Bat. It's comic book personalities brought to life and set loose, all for the sole purpose of wacky antics and populating the setting with a garden variety of personas. The villains can range from the ultra-silly like a lobsterman wearing underwear (similar to something found in the likes of super sentai works), to the more maniacal dimensionless baddie who's sole purpose in life is to fight strong opponents (similar to that of most battle shounens). It's this variety of Saturday morning cartoon level characters that keep things fresh. And with the over-exaggerated character designs, it becomes even more elevated than what would typically be seen from this kind of show. Although, this, as a result, creates the most shallow cast imaginable, and while they're still endearing in the already goofy backdrop they're placed in, they're not in any way new to what would come out of this brand of storytelling. The more you buy into the comedic outlook the show presents everything in, the easier it is to buy into their placement in the story. This, of course, leads to one of the more noticeable problems the show can't seem to get a grasp on, and that's that nothing it does can be taken seriously. The show goes out of its way to paint everything in clown makeup, so when it does try to take things down a more serious route the final result is more of an apathetic shrug and resounding "who cares," than anything you can deem potent. This isn't to say that those more serious moments don't hold meaning, but that in the context of a parody that has been doing nothing but laughing along with the audience, the moments are simply unwarranted. It's like if a stoner comedy stopped everything dead in its tracks to present a D.A.R.E speech against the use of drugs. Thankfully these moments aren't ever-present throughout the show's run-time. Another issue that many might have with OPM is quite obviously the joke itself. Being that it's a repetitive comedic gag, many might find the novelty of the gag to have less impact as the show goes on. This, of course, is a reasonable concern, since variety is what keeps long-running sitcoms and comedies on the air. The show attempts to alleviate that concern with the involvement of characters like Genos, who serves as the duality to Saitama's placement in the story. And then there's Saitama himself, who is a deadpan protagonist for a majority of the show's run-time. Those unfamiliar or simply indifferent to deadpan humor will of course not find anything in Saitama, making him uninteresting to most, and rightfully so. And like the concern of the run-on joke losing its luster, the myriad of other wacky characters introduced are the show's defense to keep the attentiveness of those who simply can't be bothered with the uncaring and often cynical outlook Saitama is given. This isn't a case where the lead is a blank slate, but rather he's a character that should have already been done with his arc and involvement in the story. This is the follow up to where a typical hero story should have ended, the downward spiral of a man who has already achieved all that there is to do in his given universe. Which of course is the point of this prolog inspired series, but like I've already stated, the inherent value of OPM rests with the viewer's taste in comedy, so this problem may not even register at all to a lot of people. But despite these indeterminate shortcomings, the show still manages to do enough to keep itself together. Because it's so self-aware, a great deal of these issues is often made to be null and void. It's hard to dissect a show that is so honest about what it is. This doesn't wash away the issues it may have, but it certainly makes it more palatable to a consumer that isn't necessarily concerned about it. Enjoyment: 9/10 I can go on and on about what the show had working against it, but at the end of the day, I walked away with a title that constantly kept me entertained. The fights were great fun, the animation was handled with care, the OST was kickass, the satirical jabs kept me cackling, and above all else, I was more than satisfied as a viewer and fellow enthusiast of anime. Sure the run-on gag lost steam at times, and yes the plot wasn't always engaging, but as far as enjoyment is concerned, OPM scratched an itch that previously only Jojo of the same year was able to. Overall: 7/10 Is One Punch Man over-hyped? Yes, it certainly is. But does that make it inherently bad? No, it doesn't. While it may be blown out of proportion due to the fact that its contemporaries are of less than stellar quality, there are still merits to the appraisal it receives. It isn't a title that will break new ground anytime soon, and partially, it's a Frankenstein who's existence can be credited with the recent high demand for superhero stories in pop culture. But as an action-comedy that's out to simply have fun and revel in the absurdity of its story, One Punch Man is a show that can keep even the most jaded of audiences entertained, and if only for that aspect alone, I think it's worth trying out.
Reviewer’s Rating: 7
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0 Show all Oct 1, 2015
Durarara!!x2 Ten
(Anime)
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Mixed Feelings
There's a popular theory by playwright, Frigyes Karinthy, known as the "6 Degrees of Separation," which claims that everyone and everything is six or fewer steps away, by way of introduction, from any other person in the world, so that a chain of "a friend of a friend" statements can be made to connect any two people in a maximum of six steps.
Basically the theory implies that everyone is connected to everyone else, in one way or another, within six acquaintances or less. So in some way, you, the reader, is connected to me, the writer. I find this theory to be not only appropriate ... but also an essential insight when talking about Durarara!!. Not only does it adhere to this philosophy in the way it approaches its story but also in the way it brings it all together. Despite the ignorance that the characters of Ikebukuro have towards each others' personal affairs, when the layers are all peeled back, they're all a part of an intricate, interconnected web. And it's seeing this interconnected web all flow into a central stream of consciousness to form one overarching narrative that sets DRRR apart from its contemporaries. But despite being able to encapsulate this kind of story better than most titles, Durarara still suffers from the same issues that plagued its prior installments. Without question, DRRR's unique approach to storytelling is its biggest highlight, and that isn't something that has changed as it continues to build upon its franchise's name. Picking up from where we left off in DRRR!!x2 Shou, we find ourselves following up on the events that happened in the Shou's climax after the dust has settled from the turf wars. Since Shou was mostly dedicated to gradual buildup, this season was able to benefit off of its coattails by zeroing in on a more focused narrative. The plot doesn't feel as scatterbrained as before, which automatically makes it more engaging than the season prior. By far the most significant change comes with Mikado Ryuugamine's new methods of dealing with the Dollars. While he never believed in establishing any sort of law-and-order and let the gang operate without his interference, his new actions are almost night and day, as we see him become more abrasive and hands-on with his approach. No longer is he a bystander in the turmoil that occurs in Ikebukuro, now he's an active player, as we see him roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty. Whether Mikado is the proprietor or merely a pawn being used by someone else is up for debate, but his new outlook is undeniable. While the actual buildup to this extreme mindset change was, to be quite honest, half-assed, it still does wonders for keeping the audience engaged. Since the pacing of DRRR has always been notoriously slow, this plot development was one that was greatly welcomed. It brought much-needed change in what can be considered a monotonous dribble at times. While there are still episodes and moments where the meandering became overwhelmingly apparent, the payout at the end of each plot point at least delivered more than the season prior. But like the seasons before it, the sluggish pacing coupled with the "beating around the bush" approach of storytelling still prevented it from having any significant progression in the narrative throughout. This is an anime where most of the intrigue comes from piecing the puzzle together, than the actual finished product you'll get from it when it's all said and done. As mentioned before, the most prominent character transformation comes from Mikado Ryuugamine, but another noteworthy standout this season was also Izaya Orihara. While what I'm about to say may seem like a minor detail, I still think it's worth mentioning. If you look at the show's cover art, it gives hints as to who the focus of the season will follow; this is also evident when compared to the cover art of every season so far. A quick glance through the catalog will show an abundance of characters in the prior season's cover pictures, but this time, the show only highlights the 2-star attractions (with exception to the show's mascot Celty separating their profiles). This can allude to the show shifting focus from the ever-expanding cast and take on a more compact narrative approach. Instead of branching off into several plot lines, most will now revolve around Izaya and Mikado. Both characters are now using their influence to stir things up in the city and have ultimately become the puppeteers for a lot of occurrences that happen throughout the show's run-time. Even the supposedly "stand-alone" story-lines find themselves being distorted and warped by the actions of these two important figures. The turmoil that comes, as a result, gets the other side characters caught up in the cross-hairs. In typical DRRR fashion, the "point of view" method of storytelling is the process used to show the influences Mikado and Izaya has on others. This also includes several of the characters that will provide a new piece to the puzzle, regardless of their awareness of the situation at large or not. This perfectly ties back to "6 Degrees of Separation" theory, showing that Ikebukuro is connected on the most rudimentary of levels. Izaya was always something like Ikebukuro's version of the Joker, and now with the extra screen-time finally given to him, he's able to get the proper characterization and fleshing out that he greatly lacked before. This was an issue that the seasons prior suffered from since the show spread itself too thin by trying to cover every character under the sun. While the same can't be said for a majority of the cast, it should be noted that there were some improvements to be found, as more life was breathed into a few characters that came off as wooden before. This isn't to say that most of them aren't still heavily reliant on one personality quirk to stand out, it's just that the ones that do get the extra minutes of screen-time are slightly more tolerable than they were before. But despite the much-needed improvement to some characters, it's still almost nauseating at times trying to keep tabs on all of their involvement in the plot. Not to say that it's hard to follow, but there are still far too many irrelevant characters that serve close to no purpose to the show's overarching narrative to warrant their presence being anything worth keeping track of. And for those that do have a connection to the bigger picture, a lot of them remain underdeveloped. Some did get a chance to be fleshed out, but even then, it was only covering the fundamentals that should have already been done by the seasons prior. If a show takes 40+ episodes to meet the basic standards of characterization expected of it, then that show isn't being handled well. As I said, there are improvements found but far too little to support the increasing demand placed on it by the content provided. All in all, the downsizing of the character focus helped to make this season a little more tolerable than the scatterbrained approach of Shou. While this could be a direct result of Shou serving to set the stage and x2Ten piggy-backing off of that, regardless of the reason, it was less taxing as a result and therefore easier to invest into the scenarios that were playing out. The art and animation, for the most part, remained relatively the same as the quality found in Shou. This made the transition into the new season to feel like one cohesive piece, which will help to maintain immersion for those watching them back to back. This also applies to the character designs as well, which didn't show any noticeable changes in the way they were drawn. The contrast between the opaque textures found in the background and the figures in the foreground also helped in giving everything depth of field. The soundtrack from the prior season is also carried over as well, but with the darker tone shift that this season seems to be taking on, the track choices are more on the drearier side of the OST, than the usual upbeat songs like "The Sought-after Extraordinary." Enjoyment | Overall: 5/10 While I've found more to enjoy out of this season than what the prior had to offer, it still isn't all that much to enhance my opinion of the franchise as a whole. There are still many dead time moments and focus placed on tag-along characters for me to get fully invested. For the most part, the show just ends up being a snore fest. It's just not my cup of tea. For every decent payout that Durarara offers, it is followed up by a stagnant and often tedious buildup that makes the endless journey not worth it. Every time I consider suggesting DRRR to someone, I'm constantly reminded that the pacing is still abysmal, the characterization is still lax, and no matter how "cool" the idea of an interweaving narrative sounds, it doesn't amount to much if very little is being done with it. Durarara isn't a bad show; it's just one that is poorly realized at this point, being stretched out entirely too long for its own good.
Reviewer’s Rating: 5
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If I can describe Gangsta in one word it would be... disappointingpieceofshit.
A title that's so half-baked that it's truly deserving of a tailor-made portmanteau. And if you're one of the fortunate individuals who hasn't watched Gangsta yet then HALT, do not pass go, do not collect $200, stay away! As for the rest of the poor souls that suffered through the pilgrimage viewing that is Gangsta, on with the review. Gangsta, a title name that immediately invokes imagery of money, sex, power and violence, and as luck would have it, a very appropriate namesake as well, as we're given just that in spades. This is a ... story that takes us to the deepest depths of society's bustling underbelly. Where law and order is traded in for carnage and mayhem. Where a wrong step can easily become your last. And where maturity is handled with as much subtlety as a Grand Theft Auto game. When it comes to try-hard entertainment, Gangsta has catapulted itself into another league but for all the wrong reasons. With content that can only be described as a pubescent teen's wet dream, it somehow managed something that's nigh impossible; taking a gratuitous amount of "adult" subject matter and making it all tepid in nature. A show stuffed from head to toe with lurid material yet invokes nothing, failing at even becoming lowbrow sleaze. For everything that Gangsta could have done it ended up doing nothing at all. Narratively, it also introduces a myriad of questions one after another but never once provides an answer for any of it, making this a double-edged sword of bad meets worse. With nothing to excite or stimulate you, this anime has mastered the art of blue balling. The story follows the lives of three characters: handymen for hire, Worick and Nicolas, and former thottie, Alex, as they navigate their way through everyday life in the godforsaken hellhole of a city named Ergastulum that they call home, while also fighting off their own personal demons along the way. Because of Worick and Nicolas's line of work, they often find themselves caught in the cross-hairs of the city's perpetual battles to maintain power and balance. These inner-city civil wars are overseen by crime syndicates with the main source of conflict often tying back to a subgroup of humans named Twilights: people with genetically enhanced strength that could perform physical feats that far exceeds average humans while under the aid of certain drugs. They're basically pill poppin x-men. And as one would expect, due to these innate abilities, the Twilights are constant victims of societal discrimination while also serving as living weapons, which is an escalating issue just waiting to keel over. With such a unique decrepit city serving as its setting and a premise that promises heavy-hitting content, you would think the creators would just run with it. But instead, what we get is a story that meanders around without any sort of uniformity behind its actions, effectively ending before it gets a chance to begin. It's like watching someone with ADD trying to multitask. Characters are constantly introduced only to be left hanging in the open with no explanation as to their overall involvement. Major events that develop in the backdrop would simply never exfoliate. Plot points are brought up to only come to a dead end with no resolution. And all of it leads towards an ending that can only be described as the biggest cock-tease of 2015. With its inability to finish anything, this anime is the spiritual embodiment of Finbarr Calamitous from Jimmy Neutron. It's incredibly half-assed. And as if to add insult to injury, despite all the over-the-top fights and constant debauchery going on in the city, the show itself remains painfully dull and uneventful. There are long stretches of time where absolutely nothing of relevance would happen. There may be a plot point itself that's "grand" in scope, but the build-up for it is often nonexistent, making it the equivalency of watching paint dry, even if the "paint" looks exciting on paper. Sometimes, when nothing of importance is going on, we're given an introspective look into the lives of our main characters. These are some of Gangsta's better moments as they help to get the audience familiarized to the psyche of the leads, as well as showcasing how they may have landed in their current positions in life. And while these moments may help elevated our ragtag group beyond cardboard cutout status, it doesn't stop the narrative from operating on AOL dial-up speed. The pacing is simply sluggish, even when what's being displayed would have you think otherwise. Story advancement is treated like an afterthought, which doesn't bode well for those that have a genuine interest in where the show would go next. Thankfully, Gangsta doesn't spread itself too thin when it came to the characters, as most of the content centered around our three main leads. Worick is the level-headed member of the group and also the one in charge of keeping things in order. His quick wit and chill demeanor made him instantly likable. We're given a lot in the way of his complicated backstory that he shares with Nicolas; a backstory that helps thread the duo's connection to each other. Alex, the former thottie, is an emotionally damaged person that spends a majority of the show opening up to her new lifestyle with her two new companions. Despite her previous profession and general skimpy appearance, she's a rather reserved individual that we only learn more about gradually as the show goes on. But possibly the most memorable of the three that chews up all the scenery he's in is Nicolas himself. While not crucial to the overall material, one unique inclusion that Gangsta deserves credit for is giving us a main character that's Deaf. As of the time of this writing, there has never been a Deaf lead in an animated TV series before. For the most part, Deaf characters are usually reduced to taking up insignificant roles, like the brief uncredited scene in Mobile Police Patlabor: WXIII, or even worse, they're used in a way that screams tokenism, placed in the story to rack up sympathy points instead of being treated as just another person. This is the first time an anime has placed a Deaf character center-stage and treated them as a person, never once resorting to excessive victimizing. This can help open up dialogue for a better understanding of Deaf culture for those that were previously oblivious to it, making it a progressive move on Gangsta's part. Having taken ASL (American Sign Language) for two years myself during high school, there are mannerisms and behavioral patterns that are commonly recognized among any Deaf community, regardless of if it's abroad or not. And I can say that Manglobe did a commendable job in portraying that (for the most part). Of course, there are limitations to what they could accomplish, due to the fact that it's an animated feature and not live-action. But with all things considered, the translation came out better than I would have expected. And while Manglobe deserves respect on that front, it doesn't mean everything was smooth sailing for the presentation as a whole. If anyone has familiarized themselves with the studio's catalog, their creative output has always been plagued with inconsistencies. With many instances of distorted character models and janky choreography, Gangsta was far from anything you would call prim and proper. Where the show did shine was with its overall tone and atmosphere, the likes of which swept over every aspect of the audiovisual output, creating a sense of uniformity that melded the characters and narrative together. This wasn't much of a surprise given that director Shukō Murase was responsible for bringing it to life. His trademarked style, blending neo-gothic aesthetics and vogue-like character models to create a kind of occult aura—as prominently showcased with Ergo Proxy and Witch Hunter Robin—bled its way into Gangsta, if only to a lesser degree to adjust to the show's more "urban" outfitting. Murase brought his A-game once again, gifting Gangsta with a tone befitting its content. A directorial facelift that it desperately needed. While that didn't make the false sense of maturity that the show was hiding behind any better, it certainly made it more palatable as a viewing experience. To help heighten the atmosphere even further, the music was brought to life by Tsutchie, who's famous for his work on Manglobe's fan-favorite, Samurai Champloo. Instead of drawing back to the Hip-Hop/Trip-Hop genre fusion of his work on Champloo, Tsutchie embarks down a sonic path that's more EDM inspired. Being nowhere as heavy-handed as Parasyte's take on the genre, Tsutchie took a far more stripped-down approach. Those that are fans of the more house/drum 'n' base aspects of EDM would find something to enjoy with Gangsta's musical choice. The opening theme "Renegade" by STEREO DIVE FOUNDATION was a nice J-pop/EDM track that kicked things into high gear for each new episode. Despite its niche sound, it's an opening that has easily received broad appeal due to its melody, glitch-pop flavoring, and midway breakdown. The ending, while also nice, was a more morbid song that wrapped up the episode nicely but didn't really serve as something you didn't want to skip after a few listens. All in all, the music was a fine fit and worked a lot better than expected for a show that tried to have a more dreary depiction. But for the brief glimpses of actual merit that Gangsta may have had, it's immediately snuffed out when you begin to factor in the issues it was plagued with. No little amount of good it had could outweigh the ton of bad that saddled it down. There's really no way around it; Gangsta was a flop. With each new episode, the show found itself struggling to stay afloat. What started out with audiences crossing their fingers for that eventual "Aha" moment to kick in, quickly fizzled away into disinterest as it slowly trudged towards the chopping block of its final episode. And with no solid conclusion in sight, Gangsta took what little potential it was holding onto and proceeded to run it into the ground, as it faded to black and people began moving on to the next best thing, erasing the thought of its existence from their memory. Enjoyment: 5/10 I have a rather complicated relationship with studio Manglobe. On the one hand, they've created some of my most beloved shows (Ergo Proxy, Samurai Champloo and House of Five Leaves) but on the other, they're responsible for some of my most detested ones as well (Deadman Wonderland and Karneval). But instead of falling into either category, Gangsta lands somewhere in the middle ground for me, with the studio's other works like Samurai Flamenco, The World God Only Knows and The Sacred Blacksmith. Shows I don't quite like but don't hate either. They're simply titles that fell short of the mark for me. It's really aggravating seeing what Gangsta ultimately became, given all the untapped potential it was working with. But the overall lack of purpose in its plotting and the abrupt ending has assured that it'll be more loathed than remembered with fond memories. But perhaps the most disheartening thing about this show is that it serves as Manglobe's swan song since the studio went bankrupt and disbanded right after finishing this show. They were my personal favorite studio, so it's sad seeing them go out on such a sour note. Overall: 4/10 Gangsta is yet another title from the 2015 summer season that had potential but quickly dissolved away into nothingness. With plot points that went nowhere and characters that were never given reason to exist whatsoever, Gangsta squandered its run-time with too many issues to get a pass. And when taking into consideration what could only be the biggest cock-tease ending in years, there's no solid defense that could protect Gangsta from getting the ax.
Reviewer’s Rating: 4
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