It is an embarrassment to Nitro+, the producers of the source material. It is an embarrassment to A-1 Pictures, who have proven with titles like Birdy the Mighty DECODE and Ookiku Furikabutte that they can do better. But the most tragic part is how horrifyingly embarrassing it is to the BL genre and its fans. The genre, despite its booming popularity and flourishing diversity in manga and doujinshi, suffers greatly somewhere in the transition to animation—for some reason, the anime industry doesn’t like the genre very much, and even hugely popular titles are treated to adaptations with cut corners and tight budgets. This does nothing to improve the reputation of BL, whose detractors dismiss it all as shallow, pandering garbage, insulting and even offensive to actual homosexuals; and its fans and followers as noisy, awkward high-school girls of unrefined taste with no appreciation for the finer points of artistic pornography.
Togainu may be the greatest slight to the reputation of the genre yet.
The story is simple (but don’t let the story know that—it carries itself as though it is the most sobering parade of man’s inhumanity to man since the last time someone made a holocaust film): in the not-so-distant future, a third world war has split Japan into two fractions: one which has been civilised and rebuilt (of which we see very little), and another which is a lawless wasteland. The main character, Akira, is some kind of professional street fighter in the more civilised region before he is falsely accused of murder. While awaiting trial, a strange woman offers him freedom on the condition that he move to Toshima, the lawless region, and participate in some kind of battle royale. The prize is, from what I can gather, leadership of some kind of illicit drug company, which the strange woman wants to take down from the inside.
You may have noted that my plot description is rather vague. That’s because, even after completing the show, I’ve barely been able to string together a series of events. The show is a clusterfuck. Firstly, the backstory—the splitting of Japan—is never mentioned in the series itself. I learned that from the plot summary on MAL. In retrospect, the opening narration of the first episode—delivered by an utterly bored, slow, monotonous and uninvolved Takumi Yamazaki—was probably describing the war and the proceeding division, but if it is, it’s through a metaphor so thick and incomprehensible that it’s completely nonsensical if the viewer is not already familiar with the plot (a point which I’ll return to later). Every episode opens with a similar narration, each slathered liberally with “metaphors” and “analogies” and other such things that the scriptwriter smugly pats himself on the back for remembering from secondary school, and none of them are any more meaningful than the others—and once the character n (pronounced ‘Nano’), who has been providing these narrations, enters the story, the viewer is treated to the same half-assed pseudo-depth in his dialogue.
Speaking of n, let’s take a little break to talk about the characters. Though the show boasts a fairly broad cast, the scriptwriter (or, possibly, the author of the original game) actually only knows how to write three kinds of characters. Akira, n, and Shiki all share a personality (or lack thereof): they are dead-eyed, silent, constantly bored, and rude and dismissive to even their comrades (but it’s okay, you guys, because they all have dark and tragic pasts that are never explained). Keisuke, Rin, and Motomi also share a personality: the ‘team cheerleader’, a ray of sunshine in dark and gloomy Toshima (maybe it wouldn’t be so dark if the animators didn’t airbrush solid black onto every frame). And every other cast member shares the third personality: annoying. Oh, sure, they have little traits and quirks slipped in to make them seem different—Shiki kills people, Rin acts like a twelve-year-old-girl, Arbitro partakes in gay orgies (I’ll also return to that later)—but they have such a lack of real personality, motivation and relationships that they are impossible to sympathise with or really feel anything for.
Shiki is supposed to be an ominous antagonist, but all he really does is wield a sword as opposed to a knife (like most of the cast) and wear black leather. Kiriwar and Gunji are supposed to be fearsome opponents whose quarrels provide spots of comic relief, but they’re so unfunny and so unintimidating that they feel more like a waste of time. And so on and so forth for every other cast member. I’m willing to forgive Akira’s lack of personality, to an extent—though I haven’t personally experienced the visual novel, the role of the protagonist in a BL game is usually little more than a cock magnet. That said, the scriptwriter could have at least tried to be flexible.
The series, with its convoluted writing that seems almost as if it’s trying to be harsh and unwelcoming to newcomers to the franchise, appears at first glance to be pandering to the game’s diehard fanbase. Yet, simultaneously, it drives off the diehard fans by stripping the story of all the naked, sweaty man-humping for which it is so beloved. In the anime, explicit homosexuality and eroticism becomes the exclusive property of the antagonists—Arbitro wouldn’t be such a wildly offensive depiction of the ‘depraved homosexual’ if he wasn’t the only character having actual gay sex. In this regard, Togainu fails for the same reason most eroge adaptations fail—when stripped of its sex appeal, the story is left to fend for itself, and it often does not fare well. But the difference between Togainu and a series like, say, Akane-iro ni Somaru Saka is that at least AkaSaka still makes time to denude its ladies and reward the viewer’s patience with gratuitous underthings and bare flesh. The cast of Togainu rarely, if ever, removes so much as a glove.
Which is probably for the better, considering to my next point: the animation. The horrible, awful animation. Togainu is hugely popular within the BL fandom and one would expect it to receive a lavish treatment—which it seemed to, when the PVs and opening animation were released. The opening, set to a Hot Topic-core J-rock number by GRANRODEO, boasts smooth, dynamic animation with thick, bold lines; the promotional videos were montages of exciting, intense, fast-paced fight scenes. At a passing glance, the animation seems, if not cutting-edge, at least impressive and visually stimulating.
Then, the series itself begins: Togainu seems to be funded on the contents of A-1 Pictures’ swear jar. The low frame count and complete absence of attention to detail could pass in a slice-of-life series, but in an action-heavy show where hand-to-hand combat occurs at least once per episode, it’s inexcusable. Backgrounds are plain and lifeless; every scene is deeply saturated in grays and greens and, for indoor scenes, browns. It’s one thing for a series or a scene to stick to a limited palette—it can draw the viewer’s attention to certain details or emphasise a mood—but it’s another thing completely to make every frame so dark that the show itself becomes a chore to watch. Oftentimes a black shadow will be cast across half the screen: sometimes it’s used as censorship, but more often it covers parts of characters’ faces or even (on multiple occasions) the entire screen, leaving only one corner visible. This, combined with the three-month delay in DVD releases, leads me to believe A-1 may be pulling a SHAFT here: Togainu is simply unfinished, and the DVDs will contain retouched and even re-animated scenes.
Character models may as well not even exist for as much as the animators pay attention to them—characters often look unrecognisably different between scenes and even frames. Togainu has one of those particular anime art styles where small facial details such as eyelids and Cupid’s bows are outlined. This style is popular in manga, and it doesn’t feature in anime so much because faces must be very carefully proportioned—when they are not, they look freakishly distorted, as they often do here. When characters experience emotion, they talk or narrate about them rather than acting them out (this is because action costs money). This show is just as fond of Dutch angles as Battlefield Earth and misuses them almost as much. Action scenes are handled clumsily, to say the least: when stabbed or even lightly grazed, characters explosively spurt gallons of luminescent red Kool-Aid. In the show’s grand finale, the animation somehow finds a way to get worse, and awkward angles and slow pans over clouds and cityscapes are set to the soothing sounds of metal scraping against metal and characters grunting in pain. Then, the camera remembers where it’s supposed to be, and cuts back to characters grievously injured or bleeding copiously. “There’s a really kickass fight going on,” the animators reassure us, “but we just can’t show it to you.”
The show’s soundtrack is, surprisingly, one of its strong suits. The show swaps ending themes every episode, and the always reliable Kanako Itou provides no less than three of them. Itou’s numbers are upbeat without losing a dark, mournful atmosphere; the other ending themes are mostly forgettable (but not bad) J-rock numbers. The background music, on the other hand, runs the gamut from listenable, even pleasant, to absolutely grating. One of my favourites is a slow, mournful guitar piece with a soft electronic beat, and I’m also fond of the crunching hard rock that plays during the first fistfight of the show. A good number of the tracks sound like the show is tuned to an early 90’s grunge radio station—whether that’s a good or a bad thing is up to you.
Togainu sports a cast of big-names, but seems not to really know how to use any of them, haphazardly assigning them parts they’re not suited for. Jun Fukuyama as Rin is one of the more upsetting choices, as high pitch is not Fukuyama’s fote. Kishou Taniyama sounds strained and forced as Gunji, and (as I’ve mentioned before) Takumi Yamazaki as n could not possibly sound more bored and slow if he tried. Most of the rest of the cast—Tomokazu Sugita and Hikaru Midorikawa especially—have much greater ranges than the show gives them credit for, and, though they perform competently, it’s a shame they weren’t really utilised.
Most hentai is better animated and better scripted than Togainu no Chi. In fact, Togainu should have been released as a direct-to-DVD hardcore title. It still would have been terrible, but at least there would be cocks involved, and the show wouldn’t get lost in its own pretentiousness so easily. It doesn’t matter what you’re watching the show for—everything’s been done, and better, somewhere else. Looking for a plot-heavy BL series? Watch Loveless. Edgy, bloody, post-apocalyptic action? Highschool of the Dead’s a recent title. Grimdark drama with touches of sci-fi and supernatural? Any (good) Nitro+ adaptation. Togainu no Chi is a slight to its genre and, hell, the anime industry itself.
Watch something else. Watch anything else.
