Sometimes the pain is so great, that the victim begins to fear never-ending misery inflicted by a disappointing world - one all to lacking in miracles. This fear becomes a barrier between the victim and the world. The mere thought of intimate connections triggers very strong anxiety, resulting in either total seclusion or a public, yet detached and empty existence.
Utena tries to be chivalrous. With that one notable exception, there is not a character in Revolutionary Girl Utena who has remained noble. Even more depressing, every single one of them continues getting injected with trivial, jealous rage. The plot of almost every single episode concerns one mentally unbalanced person following irrational negative emotions, courtesy of one very specific being’s machinations. Whoever receives the spotlight is consumed by an idea only tangentially related to their tragedy, convinced that breaking a poor girl’s spirit will make things better.
Once a fight, once an episode, someone asks for the power to revolutionize the world. As embittered as they are at the sad world, they are humans who will always try to find hope. Remembering the shattered dreams, a search begins for a strength which may be able to make a miracle; and, if a miracle can happen, then purity too can be reclaimed. It must be noted that the revolution is not for the sake of others, but instead born from a need to have the world exist as each duelist wishes they could see it.
It is possible that we the viewers are also watching a different world than the characters. No one says that Anthy has wonderful purple hair, or comments on unrealistic, noodle-like body proportions. When Utena sees Miki, perhaps she sees a regular boy, without the deep blue hair to remind viewers that he is calm, passive, and feminine. What Utena does see are faceless peers who flock from one newly introduced male to another. These drones exist to show that the men have something, and the series typically goes on to display the new man’s trademark talents. Despite that, every one of them cannot forget the things they wish for. Repetitive plots are fuelled dozens of times by this disregard for what is, and desire for what cannot be.
As a spotlight character’s motivations reach climax, they fight Utena in a sword duel, aiming to cut a flower off her chest. Each arc/season has only one duel choreographed, the only difference being the duelists involved. That detail matters little, however, as the typical fight is recycled stock footage of Utena striking poses and dealing the same finishing move, over and over. Luckily, the reused content is both fluid and interesting; and curiously, each fight has a unique song complete with thematically-relevant lyrics. The composer should be commended for not only surpassing expectations, but doing so in the face of such lazy animators.
Lacking the funds to animate fights may be understandable, considering the immense love put into backgrounds. Of course one could ask why writers would create so many fights without the money or time to draw them, but that is irrelevant at this point. Ohtori Academy’s architecture clearly received the bulk of attention. Complex, detailed wall patterns, sprawling arches and tall pillars pervade the exterior, evoking a sense of wonder. Inside, like so many things in RGE, we find a bland school filled with rows and rows of identical lockers, classes and desks. It is only after unexpected exploration that Utena finds, and we see, the hidden depths. These secret places conceal a power that can change the world. Whether that is good or bad depends on the world wanted to be seen.
The beauty of Utena is not the way it is presented, but the force with which it connects. Viewing it can be described as exploring the insides of a clock. The device toils away, going through expected motions in an expected manner, with a faint click heard before. As the cover is removed, stubborn gears continue turning the same way. When the pieces are separated, the clock all but destroyed, the first thing that springs to mind is how tedious the whole ordeal is. Still, by the time reconstruction begins, an understanding of how marvelous an invention and elegant a solution the clock is begins to develop.
Of course, the inner workings of a device are only interesting to those who liked it to begin with. In Utena’s case, the device is a magical teenage girl and her misadventures. I have remarkably little interest in the genre, so all the trappings left a bad taste. For those who find anything to love about RGE’s inspirations, and barring the hyper-formulaic plot, I imagine this is the best it will get.
