Summary: I found this show to be an enjoyable, although overlong, space opera; not particularly original or amazing, but engaging, with some nice nuances and surprises along the way. The 50 episode length attenuates the story a bit too much, 24 episodes would have been suitable, perhaps 36 if the content was actual backstory/plot and not filler material. Recommended to those who like mecha action, melodrama, broadly drawn characters and a dash of Shakespearian pathos with cliff-hanger endings all over the place.
I like to start my reviews with mentioning the flaws of shows I liked, just to get those out of the way, as a sort of due diligence.
The FLAWS of Gundam SEED: to repeat, 50 episodes is much too long for the amount of actual story that was told. The constant use of flashbacks, recycled images and repetitive combat scenes suggest to me that they simply did not have enough written material to justify the length.
The combat at several stretches can be frustrating cycles of essentially identical engagements that seem to resolve little except push the story to another cliff-hanger.
For example, even in many of the episodes with fresh developments, the scenes had rather repetitive action sequences--multiple shots of characters shouting variations of the same basic phrases, commands or epithets which is acceptable up to a point because in combat there aren't that many different things that happen during an engagement. However, it's the sheer number of times you see identical things that is galling (there is one sequence of the hero, for example, shooting at a special mech with a unique defense system where the shot, the reaction of the enemy and the hero's reaction are pretty much identical each time for several engagements--like, dude, that doesn't work, why the hell are you still doing exactly the same thing three episodes later?? It's like a video game where the players are just mashing the same buttons over and over again).
Some characters pop-put for almost a dozen episodes or more, never or rarely to be heard from, until the plot requires them for some purpose to jarringly come back into focus. The most egregious of this, for me, was the fate of Flay Allster, who is almost literally put on a shelf for a long stretch to be saved for an obvious role late in the series. Many of the characters, especially the bad guys, tend to be cardboard cutout figures that range from two extremes--either ludicrously vain such as the leader of the Blue Cosmos, or saintly father figures who smile gently and greet their deaths with beatific expressions of "I am a really good guy who accepts my duty with Honor and Nobility." Aw, come on! I think even great leaders probably faced their last moments sometimes, with "shit, this sucks, oh well." Then you have your cookie-cutter psycho bad guys and vanilla idiot bureaucrats: "Ha, I fear no enemy that we have been losing to who has proven themselves superior to us in every way and have defeated other units countless times with superior technology and tactics and now have in their possession our brand new super-weapons that were going to defeat them (haha, we're so good) but I'm not worried they can use those against us, so let me get back to my VERY important paperwork, please madame!"
I'd say the conversational dialogue of this show is rather sub-par, not many interesting interchanges or speeches. Although, late in the series, there is a very good conversation between Lacus Clyne and Athrun Zalla in a dark theatre that is exceptionally well executed, both in animation and voice-acting (of the Japanese talent). And, way too much awkward crying. You can make a drinking game out of how many times the hero cries in this show. The music of this show is excellent, suitably grandiose, pensive or melodic as the situation requires, however, again due to the length of the series, there is a lot of recycling of the audio tracks and obvious looping to have a piece fill an overly long combat sequence.
Despite all these rather egregious flaws, I still was highly entertained by this series. First, I enjoy melodrama of a particular stripe, and SEED is dripping with heavy-handed melodrama. Your tolerance for this may vary. Second, some of the weaknesses in SEED also contribute to its *strengths* ironically. The lack of expository dialogue, for the most part, is a relief for me. I prefer to be shown a story vs. having characters stand around for long periods discussing things. Most discussions in SEED amount to a few short interchanges right before or after a piece of combat or event. Even in quieter episodes where there is no action, the show rarely holds long for deep conversations about anything. Many will find this frustrating because many times little of anything important is either revealed or explained.
However, if you are willing to go where the writers are taking you and follow the story/characters over the long stretch, you realize that this show is painting with very broad, yet beautiful strokes. You realize that what seems like meaninglessly annoying developments, actually have their own explanations in the material itself, without needing any extra exposition or explanation (why do the Earth Forces essentially treat this supposedly super-secret weapon as second-hand citizens, begrudging them help at every turn? Why are the early Earth Forces they meet, so worthless and weak? Why do the ZAFT forces as run by the villain La Creuzet seem both devastatingly powerful, yet completely ineffectual against this band of misfits?). Note: La Creuzet knows exactly what he is doing at all times, from the very beginning of the show, nothing he chooses to do is inexplicable. He seems to be doing nothing, but he is actually complicit in many things--watch carefully, you will see that everything he does makes complete sense if you understand his motivations (hint: during his first engagements against the Archangel, he is always just short of the kill and goes absent at critical times--all with excuses that seem logical at the time, but later you realize what he was really doing). Luck, or Fate, as he calls it also plays a hand, of course, but he always seizes upon his opportunities--fortune falls to those who are prepared...(though, why did they name the villain on a brand of cookware?)
Similarly, where SEED succeeds or fails for the viewer is in the characters. The characters are, on the surface, fairly simple. They don't seem, at first, to develop much, if at all. Over the span of the whole show, I began to realize that these people were being painted with very shallow but elegant strokes. Yes, their backstories are mere wading pools compared to many other shows, yet this ocean was wide, not deep. For example, at first, I despised Lacus Clyne, she seemed destined to be another foppy, fluffy bunny idol who will serve as a something for the hero to protect or treasure, yet, she gradually becomes something more as the series progresses. You realize her facade is incredibly strong, it's only in certain moments when her facade cracks, especially in the voice of the vocal talent behind her, that you realize the depths of her personality. She is both Muse and prophetess, yet still a woman with fear and desire. Once you realize that this space opera is closer to the classical variety, then it becomes clear that the players represent more than just their titles. We have the duality between the two friends mirrored by the duality of La Flaga and La Creuzet. Le Creuzet is himself the Iago of this drama, the serpent who wants to see the world burn. He is an existential fury who doesn't realize that just killing himself would be a lot quicker and easier. For a moment, Flay Allster seems destined to become a Lady Macbeth, though in the end she is more of a pawn. The metaphors become laughably blatant at one point, though, when the two best friends end up piloting the ironically named mechas, Freedom and Justice.
The most interesting characters in the show are actually the supporting cast, especially the women. More on the women in a moment. The cuckolded friend, Shai Argyle, seems like a quiet fool at first, yet you realize he is a mature and thoughtful young man, exemplified by simple moments as when he scolds his friend Kuzzey, an insecure follower who never seems to think for himself.
The female characters are very refreshing in this show. In many shonen action shows, they are either eye-candy, the love interest, sexy superstrong fighter/hard-nosed chick, damsels in distress or "this is the serious, strong lady you must respect because we want to show we believe in strong women" character. Although the women are mostly background characters in a show that revolves around the two male leads, they are all generally credible and interesting people who live for themselves. Even Yula, the tomboyish girl who wants to fight, is earnest and likeable. She doesn't seem like she is trying too hard even she actually is and neither does she become some kind of baddass, she's just someone who wants to make a difference, even if it may be a little more than she can chew. Murrue Ramias, the inadvertent captain of the Archangel, is a gentle, heartwarming soul; determined, yet forgiving. She is lenient in certain ways, and she knows it and asks for no apologies for it. Her foil is the hard-nosed Natarle Badgriguel who works under Ramias' command as CIC of the Archangel, although she is actually more talented and trained for command. Their interactions could be a story unto-itself. They don't seem at first to develop much, but as the show progresses, once again, you realize they always lived and breathed as themselves, not a body in a suit, but personalities who cared about what they were doing and how they did it. Ramais' love affair with the Archangel's Mobile Armor pilot (note MA, NOT Mobile Suit) develops subtly with a few looks and touches, and when it flowers, it's simultaneously surprising yet inevitable.
The notable exception, at first, seems to be Flay Allster, who seems destined to be the noisy air-head who hates Coordinators, yet, her character develops with her own lovely pathos in her own time. She attempts to be a temptress but she only succeeds in falling from grace. Unfortunately, her character never gets to really shine as she is sent to the backseat so we can have more pageants of repetitive combat sequences, except for a few tender moments that stick in the old cranial memory bank: the brief moment when you see her kneeling to pick up the trash that Kira leaves behind as he eats and sleeps in his Strike; when Kira, who in his fog of war, nearly forgets her is finally reminded by a single lipstick she left behind rolling on the deck; her looks of insecurity and jealousy;her moments of despair, hatred and anger; her moments as she steps past her friends talking in the mess hall, unable to connect with them. All of these little moments over the course of the entire series add up until one begins to see her like Kira does: a poor, simple, perhaps ignorant, human being who represents us all--vain yet gentle, selfish yet comforting, frightened yet brave, greedy yet generous with her love. Someone to cherish inside our hearts, as dear as our own souls, that instinct we had as children to look up at fathers with innocent, guileless eyes full of hope...someone to protect and never, ever, lose sight of, otherwise we lose our very own selves into the depths of ignominy and cast our humanity aside to share the darkness with the cold, heartless vacuum of space....
