Studio: Production I.G.
Director: Mamoru Oshii (Ghost in the Shell, Patlabor 2)
TSC takes place in what might possibly be described as mid 20th century Europe (more specifically Britain) in an alternate timeline. It is an era where the majority of the population lives in peace, with wars being mainly a plaything between different mercenary groups in the name of their respective contractors. These so called mercenaries, who engage in the dance of death in the sky, pre-eminently consists of teenagers who ‘never age’ and are known as ‘Kildren’.
It is under this context we are introduced to one half of our central characters, Yuichi Kannami, who arrives at a small military base, where he meets the enigmatic base commander, Kusanagi Suito and a bunch of other notable side characters. Despite its ‘military’ tag, the actual battle scenes are few (albeit brilliant and will be readily relished by any action enthusiast), with the bulk of the storytelling focusing on the interactions between Kannami and the other characters. But what separates TSC, or rather elevates it from the majority of other slow paced shows is its, for the lack of a better word, fragility. Despite the lack of urgency of any degree whatsoever, one gets the feeling that something’s off right from the start. As the story rolls on, bit by bit of light is shed on various aspects of the Kildren’s; the purpose of their existence, on Kannami, and more so on Kusanagi, all of which invariably keeps the viewer on edge right until the final quarter, ensuing in a thrilling, and unquestionably haunting climax. That TSC ironically pulls off the elements of mystery a whole lot better than the plethora of mystery shows is a thing that Oshii can certainly be proud of.
The characters, for the major part, carry the same feeling of fragility that the story possesses right from the get go. The Kildren’s, on account for their apparent lack of growth after a specific stage, remain as teenagers for the rest of their lives. The existence of this gulf between the progress of the mind and the lack of progress of the body is what defines our protagonists and the relationships between them. Kannami’s actions are readily conflicting; he’s unwilling to accept of him being anything but a child, and as such, fails to understand what it means to live, given the fact he (as well as others) could die in the very next battle. He’s curious about his predecessor, but only to an extent where he would drop the subject first hand if he’s denied an answer. His apparent lack of will to know more about his surroundings and that of himself brings forward to what is probably the most important thematic feature of the movie: the eerie, and almost frustrating lack of change in anything. Kusanagi, haunted by her past actions, is significantly more tragic. Standing on the edge of child and adulthood, she desperately looks for a way to get out of it, to be free from all burdens that being a Kildren presents, even if it means by taking her own life. As fate would have it, the relationship between the two leads is merely a facade, fragile to such an extent that one needs to stop the other from pressing the trigger even while seemingly kissing each other.
The remaining characters mainly act as a reminder to the viewer as to what pain being a Kildren brings. They look isolated for the most part, desperately trying to fill the void in their lives and as such, play no such major roles compared to the two lead characters. While development of the said characters is pretty much non-existent, they play their given roles with precision and fulfills what the story expects from them.
Production I.G. is well known for consistently producing aesthetically pleasing stuff, and TSC is another notable addition to that list. The very first thing that strikes you are the beautifully colored backgrounds. The various aspects of the countryside, coupled with the intensely blue, partly cloudy skies (particularly in the fight scenes) dominate a handsome portion of the movie. However, more telling is the amount of detail present in the finer portions. Interiors of houses and restaurants are filled with various objects, from colorful vases to chinaware plates to other personal belongings. One odd feature, however, is the rather gargantuan doors compared to the people going through them. Similar amount of precision is attained in the designs of the fighter jets and other vehicles. Whether they are valid from an engineering point of view or not is a question I’d rather leave to the people associated with it.
Almost in contrast are the minimalistic designs of the characters, to the point one might call them lifeless and unattractive. However, it could be easily seen that the supposed lack of vitality in the character designs as compared to their surroundings is an indication of how directionless their existence is in particular. (Fun Fact: Ghost in the Shell fanatics should find no trouble to be able to point out at a drunk Kusanagi looking extremely similar to one of Innocence’s gynoids).
Kenji Kawai, at this point of time, should be a rather well-known figure to anime fans; so it’s nothing surprising to find his work in TSC to be among his best. Many of the tracks are subtle, poignant, drawn out to the point for optimum effect. The action scenes are very well accompanied by sharp and fast paced violins that manages to bring out the desired emotions. Additionally, a wonderful feature in TSC is the use of silence. At places, long scenes are accompanied by an eerie silence which actually captures you and keeps you on track. A special mention to the voice acting, particularly to the VA’s of the two lead characters, who successfully manage to maintain the delicate balance between the conflicting emotions and otherwise.
A major theme in TSC is that of repetition, disillusion and the resultant resolve required to break from it. The Kildren’s, on account of the curse they are born with, live in a world devoid of any passion and sensation whatsoever. Being edible is enough, because they can’t feel the taste. Being alive has no such meaning, because they don’t know what it means to be in the first place. Fighting for their lives is of no consequence to them, because their existence doesn’t have any other purpose. In a metaphorical sense, the Kildren’s represent people who are stuck in the cycle of life. They represent people who can’t overcome the hurdle from childhood to adulthood, who believe the only way to escape from their grim reality is by taking their own lives. And just as Kannami tries to stop Kusanagi, TSC has a message for us too: ‘You must live until you can change something’. That with the required perseverance and will, anyone can and will surely be able to move forward. The desire to bring a change in our lives is what makes us human, and as such, elevates Kannami’s resolve to fight against his destiny, even if it did ultimately lead to his downfall. The Kild, who all but merely floated all his life, devoid of any desire and will to struggle, ironically was at his magnificent best, flying as high as he ever did in his final moments. In a world and era where suicide has turned into such a grave issue, TSC’s message is certainly admirable.
TSC impressed me with its direction, use of themes and quality storytelling. Its cynical commentary on the nature of war and that of the people involved with it certainly puts it a step above than most other shows under the same genre. As with most of the slow paced shows, one needs a good amount of patience, and keeping in mind the themes portrayed, probably needs a requisite amount of maturity as an adult to enjoy TSC to the maximum. All in all, TSC is, without a doubt, one of the best things I’ve had the pleasure to watch in this medium and it gets a 4.5/5 in my book.
