Produced by Shaft as its first original anime series, the same studio that brought us the anime adaptations of Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei, ef – a fairy tale of the two, and the monogatari series, Puella Magi, or Mahou Shoujo Madoka★Magica, begins with what appears on the surface to be another typical take on the magical girl genre... one that usually places adversity, action, and fluff, sappy stuff, in the same room. The show, even from the beginning on, begs to differ. It commands us of this: To see what's off color from that strange, ominous dream. To listen to the warnings of that mysterious, yet familiar girl. To be aware. To be ready as plot and character are tested and contorted by this tale from both within and without, from the heights of pre-subversion heaven into the depths of post-subversion hell. It is full of twists and turns meant to keep viewers on the edge of their seats, if not fall off of them altogether. To accomplish these twists and turns successfully, adequate and subtle foreshadowing is imperative. A balance of expectations must be struck: one that could happen rather than should, one that invites shock while warding off suspension. And to the show's merit, with what it did with the first major subversion and beyond, it does that very well. This show is subtleties a plenty that suggest those traumas and horrors, delivered with a certain finesse, letting it all sink in before letting another wham smack you upside the face or double up the gut.
Director Akiyuki Shinbo's unconventional style of surreal artistry, odd angles, variant lighting, and object placement, alongside allusions to Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's Faust not only give audiences something strange, yet innovative and exciting to look at. The standout sight, however, the witches, the familiars, and their lairs, inspired by Russian and Czech animation styles, are thanks to troupe Gekidan InuCurry. They provide the perfect complement, unnerving perversions of innocence, to Script Writer Gen Urobuchi's dark knack for character brutalizations. This is not to say brutalizations are a crucial trait toward excellent storytelling, but Urobuchi's prowess in fingering through bowels make it work in a way as to have either result in screaming in anguish and/or sobbing uncontrollably at and/or on their screens. However, a story cannot hold itself up to scrutiny unless there is more to the content than just subversion, since subversion is a more a means, a device, rather than the end. The end to subversion is a deconstruction, and the end to deconstruction, to the show itself... But what is a deconstruction? What is it besides another means? Deconstruction is a postmodern form of literary analysis that tears into how genre tropes are presented in the story. Fluff, for instance, is one common expression of magical girls, sweet and simple. It's so ubiquitous in magical girl anime that one tends to take it for granted. Yet on whose authority is fluff the end all, be all? Is this all that this genre can amounts to? Deconstruction questions these assumptions through the binary oppositions, or dialectical opposites. What becomes of this is the juxtaposition of fluff with grit and gore. Grim consequences brought to the fore. In addition, new perspectives, interestingly enough, result in further deconstructions of other issues present in the form of philosophical inquiry. What is the nature of warfare? Is there such a thing as altruism? What does it mean to be human? Is hope real?
These writings are complemented by show's incredibly well done battle sequences, both avoiding the pit-fall of becoming a distraction while serving more than just spectacle. Aside for fan favorite arrays such as “Unlimited Musket Works” (though I happen to be fonder of the RPG and Mortar versions myself), no where is the action shown just for a rise. In fact, Some contribute to that dangerous sense of elation. Others suit the tone of desperation. Still others build heroic defiance.
Along with Shaft's trademark aesthetic is its rather clever and dynamic utilization of OPs and EDs. Minor shifts in detail, choice temporal placements, and, particularly with the EDs, the incorporation of different musics and visuals at the conclusions of fait accompli intervals not only reflect the direction the show is headed. They provide new insights under the lenses of new contexts. Picking directly at the music itself, we have the official OP “Connect” by the female J-Pop idol duo ClariS, which, paralleled with the OP art and animation, provides for primarily the fuzzy feeling one gets with bright lights, energetic hijinks, and happy images. Yet there is foreshadow; subversion, we salute you. The official ED “Magia,” by Yuki Kajiura's band Kalafina, by contrast, follows the show's descent into the dark and disturbing: bleak and steadily blackening backgrounds swallowing the colored silhouettes of characters coupled with those chimes, cymbals, strings, heavy metal, and eerie, eerie chants. Both OP and especially ED, if not for the music, deserve repeated by observant and fanatical fans as they hint at later developments that might not otherwise be appreciable on first watch. The OST, composed by Kajiura itself, is done fittingly within the contexts of characters and scenes as well as on their own merits, whether it be with the intensity of one violin or the epic of an entire orchestra: happy-go-lucky to heart-wrenching, mysterious to evocative, tragic to inspiring.
All this being said, the show is not without its flaws. Though I don't have much issue with Shaft and its tendency toward quick vacillations in camera views, peculiar angles of characters within some of the shots, such as the studio's iconic tendency toward head tilts, admittedly, can feel distracting. The Hidamari Sketch character designs by Ume Aoki, for the most part, fit the subversive features. They can also demonstrate, from body language to facial expression, a surprising amount of pathos. However, far distance panoramas can have faces looking somewhat like moe blobs which can take away from the immersion of moments otherwise meant to be taken seriously. The animation is fluid, save for certain parts when much isn't happening on screen, whereby things may feel stilted. Character development is superb throughout, but if complaints are to be had, the introduction to one character's back story felt a bit rushed and unnatural. Another's was hardly touched, though hers worked fine for the purpose that she was set up for while containing a subtle, yet surprising amount of depth. It would just be nice if her background was more thoroughly explored.
Regardless if Mahou Shoujo Madoka★Magica is as revolutionary as Neon Genesis Evangelion was for mecha... Regardless if it is darker than cousins Mahou Shoujo Lyrical Nanoha and Princess Tutu... it is nonetheless a piece that deserves a watch, regardless of preconception generated by the genre. After all, it is a human story foremost.
I give Mahou Shoujo Madoka★Magica a 9 out of 10.
