Ky Watches Anime and Talks About It Here

[Kyubey]

If it cannot break out of its shell, the chick will die without being born. Ky is the chick. Anime is his egg. If he doesn't watch anime and talk about it here, the Ky will die without truly being born. Smash the anime's shell. For the revolution of the world! And what anime is he scheduled to duel with tonight? Do you know? Do you know? Do you really know?

Revolutionary Girl Utena!

So hey, I'm doing this again. I've been watching quite a bit of anime lately, and developed a large viewing list, so I figured I might as well get back to reviewing them. From now on, I can assure you the thread won't be as organized or neat as it once was, but this is better than nothing. Originally, I wasn't planning on putting anything else into this thread at all, but after seeing Revolutionary Girl Utena, I felt a great need to write about it. It was simply too big of a series, I felt, to not give it some due reflection after watching.

Revolutionary Girl Utena is one of a few titles I've been exposed to lately, a kind that I had thought I would never have to watch or ever care about. In other words, it's primarily a shojo series. The shojo genre and I have had a rather strange relationship lately. Like most men, I once had a rather ill-informed idea of what shojo was. To be more honest, I had thought it was a bunch of sparkles, fantasy romances, magical girls who punish monsters-of-the-week in the name of the moon, hoping senpai will notice me, and other such nonsense that my fellow males tend to think is all "girl shows" are made of. Yeah, long story short, I was completely fucking wrong. As has been well documented in the chatbox, not only have I found shojo far darker than I ever would have expected, I have come to realize that the plots are, in general, darker, more character-driven, and just better-written than their shonen counterparts. And, like CJ pointed out in one of her Sailor Moon Crystal reviews, shojo is also more reliant on telling its story using primarily emotion rather than a logical narrative. Revolutionary Girl Utena follows that shojo tradition and style. No surprise then, that the director, Kunihiko Ikuhara, is also the one responsible for directing the original Sailor Moon anime. In general, Utena is more shojo in mindset than target audience. While it is very pink and flowery, with lanky doe eyed women and willowy shirtless men and all that, it is by no means something that most parents would be okay with their little girls watching, with its explicitly sexual themes and some disturbing scenes and images, particularly later in the story. Utena is also a challenging series, both in its central ideas, and in the way it's executed. Much of the imagery is abstract, the storyline is far removed from reality, and everything is left very much open for the audience to interpret and figure out for themselves. In this respect, Revolutionary Girl Utena is not linked only to shojo anime, but to a similar kind of filmmaking, that focuses on ideas and feelings rather than telling a conventional story. Doug Walker had a great video about works like these, that I highly recommend watching, and many of his points could easily be applied to Utena. It's a work that's not merely meant to be watched, it's to be thought about, questioned, and worked out by each person who watches it. And for that reason, I was absolutely enthralled. Utena's not for everyone, but there's a reason it so profoundly stood out to so many, myself included.

Revolutionary Girl Utena, at its surface, is centered around fairy tales, the dynamic between the conventional prince and princess figures in particular, and the very gender-specific notions that come along with it. In addition, it also tackles themes of identity, love, desire, and the ends people will go in order to justify their pursuit of what they want. It can easily be called a subversion or a deconstruction, but only because, in my opinion, it's very common to use those words to describe things when you can't think of anything else to say. Utena certainly does utilize many of the fairy tale/shojo conventions, along with elements from classic theatre, Greek mythology, and Victorian culture, among many other things. However, rather than keeping itself confined to these elements, it more uses them as a tool to do its own thing, and create something entirely new. While one can easily just look at it as a reaction to older works and ideas, doing so would almost be a disservice, as it does not take into account its more far-reaching comments on humanity and the society it created, nor does it place any value in it as a story by itself, which is also worth mentioning.

Following the theatrical traditions that it borrows from so much, Revolutionary Girl Utena is an anime that can be easily split into three distinct acts, each one rising in tension and gravity. Throughout each of these acts are multiple subplots, which intertwine with one another, all of them forming pieces that build the larger plotline. These subplots, most of which focus on the members of the elite student council, form much of the backbone of the setting, giving depth to the self-contained universe that is Ohtori Academy. Particularly having focus in the first two acts, these storylines are often deep, sometimes touching, and all of them feel like they have meaning. Specifically the subplot centering on the character Jury I found especially interesting, and worked off of many of the ideas and conflicts present in the primary storyline, while also being an effective drama on its own. If there's one serious complaint I can make against the plot structure, it's that some subplots have unsatisfying resolutions, and it can take a while before their significance really sets in. Interspersed in the more plot-important episodes are a few comedic interlude episodes starring Nanami. While some moments from these episodes are actually pretty funny (the three suitor/stalker characters crack me up every time) and they do serve to give life to the setting, after about the third one my patience for them wore thin, and can be notably grating when they come in between particularly dramatic episodes.

The main storyline, about Utena's relationship with Anthy and their mutual growth, is great on its own, filled with twists, and is genuinely shocking and tragic at times. The emotions, while obviously dramatized to match the style of the anime, all come from a real place, and the characters are all believable and multidimensional. The mysteries are all captivating, and once all the pieces finally started coming together, I was left feeling overwhelmed in the best possible way. Much of the subject matter on top of being the fairy tale/school drama that it is, explores incest, abuse, depression, obsession, and manipulation, handling each one of these topics with the weight they deserve, and giving serious dark undertones to what could have wound up an otherwise simple narrative. Like many anime, Utena does include some clip-show episodes, but unlike those of lesser anime, these episodes are not wasted, and in fact are among the most interesting, containing some of the most essential plot developments, as well as framing past events in such a manner as to highlight details the audience may have missed, and to lead into the events to come. At 39 episodes, it is by no means a short series, but with so much contained within, the length is worth it, building up to an intense climax that excels in both memorable visuals and a thought-provoking conclusion.

There are many anime that do wonders with their medium, but not many can top Utena in terms of sheer artistry. Taking full advantage of both the art form that is anime, and the genre that is shojo, Ikuhara was obviously more focused in creating interesting, unique images for every shot than trying to imitate reality. And it works, being fitting for both the dreamlike atmosphere and the more emotion-based shojo mentality. Many character-driven moments are punctuated by symbolic imagery, like one where two characters having a private conversation are surrounded by microphones as if they're at a press conference, or one with a random baseball game going on in the background. What I found fascinating was that most of these more abstract moments are those with the student council as the focus, perhaps emphasizing their mutually unstable state of mind.

The designs themselves are likewise fantastic, even if you take out the weird symbolism. The Academy itself is put together really well, having a distinctly European look that compliments the fairy tale format perfectly, with high towers and rose iconography everywhere. I especially love the looks of the dueling area and floating castle, which manage to appear both whimsical and majestic at the same time. I also can't go without mentioning the score, which is consistently beautiful, with certain tracks that invoke the exact right emotions every time they're played. I must also commend the composer for writing an original song, each with their own strangely captivating lyrics, for every single important fight scene, instead of just cycling through one or two.

I desperately want to call Revolutionary Girl Utena a perfect anime, because at times, it does feel that way, however, it does have some faults. Storytelling wise it's about as solid as can be hoped for, with only a handful of annoying characters and the occasional unclear transition holding it back, but it's in the direction that some notable problems arise. Some scenes, most blatantly the walk to the arena and the student council introduction, are repeated a little too much, and while some repetition fits right in with the storybook motif, it swiftly becomes apparent when a recurring element becomes padding for time/budget reasons. Similarly, some frames are repeated more often than can be excused, like when Utena uses the exact same motions every time she's about to win a duel. The swordfights themselves, while a driving point in the story, are in of themselves not all that impressively choreographed, with not a single one being noteworthy for the fight itself. Of course, all these are because of a limited budget, which makes me wonder just how much could have been added if Ikuhara simply had more money. Still, it's these budget-related limitations that sometimes lead to the better shots in the anime, as, due to the animation being limited, the focus instead is on simply setting up a really good single image, or an interesting editing choice. It may be a bit off at times, but Utena is anything except boring. Except when we see Utena walking up stairs for what feels like the millionth time.

The dub voice acting came from New York in the 90's, so take that as you will. Even though standards in general weren't quite up to the expectations today, the performances themselves do manage to be surprisingly good. Rachel Lillis plays Utena, and does an absolutely wonderful job, making the character sound both genuine and likeable. Noted voice actor Crispin Freeman also has a prominent role as student council president Kiryuu (oh hey), and gives a great performance as well, giving his character a heightened, bombastic manner of speech that both fits his personality and the style of the show, while also hitting all the right emotional marks. Dan Green is similarly effective as one of the villains of the series, marking his short amount of time with a smooth-yet-slightly-unhinged charisma. I must also make a special note for Lisa Ortiz, who gives a truly stellar and emotional performance, marred only by the fact that she plays a secondary character who's merely in a few episodes. On the other hand, not all the performances are so good. Leah Applebaum was simply not a good choice for Nanami, a shame considering that character really needed a more talented actor to make her likable. Jack Taylor, similar to his role in Now and Then, Here and There, plays an insane, violent, yet inexplicably commanding character, and, just like in the aforementioned anime, doesn't seem to really understand what kind of person he's playing, and sounds way too over-the-top for the weight that many of his scenes require. Conversely, Sharon Becker and Josh Mosby are both rather understated as Anthy and Akio respectively, which isn't that much of a mark against them considering the sort of character they both play, but there are still moments were both of them could have cranked up the emotions just a bit to great effect. Aside from those I mentioned, everyone else is, for the most part, just mediocre. Still, just like most of that era of dubs, there's a certain charm to these performances, that many more modern, polished dubs, by actors specifically conditioned to play archetypes, just don't have. If there's any one thing that I would blame for this dub not being as good as it could have been, it would be the writing and direction, which resulted in more than a few stunted, awkward sounding lines, that wouldn't have sounded good no matter who said them. More than once I got the feeling that a line could have been adapted into English better, and it wasn't until midway through the series that the actors seemed to agree on one pronunciation for each name. Still, neither point is that bad at all compared to other dubs I could mention, and I rarely felt like the performances were actually hindering my ability to enjoy the story.

In terms of pure story, or pure emotion, Revolutionary Girl Utena may not have had as great an effect on me as other things, but there are very few things I have found as engaging as this show. A series that truly lives up to its title as "revolutionary," it's easy to see why it's so often cited amongst those who talk about anime critically. After watching this anime, I feel the need to study and read up more, just so I can get all the references and details I missed my first time around. It's definitely given me a lot to think about, and while it may not be to one's specific taste, and some might find its unconventional nature unappealing, it still deserves respect for what it's accomplished. I've seen other artistic, unconventional anime before, and while I did really like them all, few have affected me as deeply as this has. Even if only to see the obvious influence it had on the iconic modern anime that came later, like Madmoka Magica and Kill la Kill, this is worth watching through at least once. For anyone seriously interested in anime as an art form, however, I will say this right now: this is required watching. And if it was at all enjoyable for you, by all means, please post what you thought of it. I'd love to hear other people's interpretations.

So... was this a one off? Or am I going to do this again? I can honestly say, I'll try! I really had fun writing this review, and I like having an account of how I felt about an anime as recorded right after I watched it, so why not? As I said before, organization will not be as finely tuned as my old series-movie-series-LoGH Gaiden pattern. From here on out, I'll just be reviewing series, with a brief interlude for something else if I feel so inclined. Hope you're all okay with that, 'cause I sure am! Alright, let's see... next up on my viewing list is another staple of anime from years gone past: Patlabor! Join me then, won't you?

The absolute destiny... apocalypse.

[Kyubey]

Emergency! We have been notified that Ky has watched an anime! He may talk about it here. I repeat, he may talk about it here! Use any methods necessary to prevent this from happening... oh dear... we're too late. Can we confirm what anime he's watched this time?

Patlabor: The Original OVA Series!

When I decided to watch Patlabor, I felt just a little bit intimidated, as at first I wasn't all that sure on where to start. Patlabor isn't really a series, as much as it is a universe of a franchise, spanning movies, a TV series, an OVA, a manga, and more, with several continuities between each of them. Probably the most famous and most critically acclaimed are the original movies, directed by anime legend Mamoru Oshii, but unfortunately I can't find a legal way to watch them anywhere. So instead, I decided to go with the next best thing: the OVA series. I came in knowing almost nothing, so I had zero expectations, save for a brief knowledge of the impact that the series had on anime that followed. And, having now seen this seven-episode piece of Patlabor lore, I can easily see why the idea led to so much.

Patlabor is a mecha anime, and one that easily falls into the "Real Robot" side of the genre. For those that don't know, Real Robot refers to anime that feature mecha, but attempt to treat them with some degree of seriousness, with the robots portrayed as weapons, with the story focus being more on the human element, and the impact that mecha would have on society. Despite the concept behind the Real Robot, however, most series of this variety tend to still be heightened, almost operatic war stories, with the robots as crucial pieces to conflicts far larger than life. Therefore, Patlabor may just be the most realist, down-to-earth robot series around. The machines are big, and probably impossible by real life standards, but that's about as far as it pushes the limits of possibility (save for the events of one episode, which is so dumb and out of place I won't even talk about it). Instead of telling some grandstanding war tale, Patlabor is content with just asking the question of "if giant, humanoid robots piloted by people were to exist, how would they be used, and what impact would they have?" The answer: we'd pretty much just be doing the same things we always do. Which, to be fair, can be interesting in it's own right if done well, and that certainly is the case with this story, about a police team tasked with preventing mecha-related crimes.

As the titular Patlabors don't have any special moves, and usually aren't even the most important element of the stories, the burden of carrying this episodic OVA series falls on Section 2 of the Tokyo Police's Special Vehicle Division. These characters, fitting for anime's tone, are not a dynamic, flashy group, nor are they even particularly heroic. Between them, there's nary a tragic backstory or an overblown passion for justice. Only the protagonist, Noa Izumi, really seems to care about her robot at all. The characters are very much everymen when they're introduced, and when the OVA's finished, they're still everymen, but given how they're written, that's not bad. Given the setting and tone, trying to force these characters into a sort of position that goes beyond who they are at heart would ruin the aesthetic that the anime built. The strength of the cast comes not from their dreams or history or the things that have made other, more famous anime characters stand out over time, but from the fact that they're really not that much different from ordinary people. And because of that, when they're challenged, when they're conflicted, or even when they're just going about their day-to-day lives, we know exactly what they're going through. A huge amount of the OVA is dedicated to just showing Section 2 doing ordinary things and interacting with each other, and I consider those parts to be the best moments. These aren't the greatest characters in anime by any means, nor are they the most memorable, but there's something about this team of average schmucks that just works, and really makes Patlabor stand out amongst the inflated crowd of robot shows.

The episodes each focus on some new task for Section 2 to deal with, which range from solving a mystery to stopping a rogue mecha to foiling a terrorist plot, and each job coming with its own challenges and sources of tension. If there is one thing that I would have to criticize the anime on, however, it would be that not all of these stories work. The opening missions are rather small in scale, understandably to ease both the audience and the characters into this world and introduce the elements that are to be expected, which then leads into a couple of episodes that are, in my opinion, just really weak. The middle of the OVA tries to balance being both a mecha series, a police drama, and a comedy, and in the process, kind of struggles with coming to terms with the elements of all three. Not to say there aren't parts that work, because there are. When the team finally gets to confronting whatever obstacle is ahead of them, the payoff is almost always rewarding, and the director clearly understands how to build tension in a scene. The final three episodes are all very good as well, and do an excellent job and both adding detail to the Patlabor universe and connecting that detail to the action. There's an underlying subplot about the relationship between the police force that utilizes mecha, and the corporations that make them, and while the focus is always on the core protagonists, the political implications of their machines are routinely called to attention. It's these details that keep the rather minimal plot alive, and I just wish there could have been more of them. At the very least, plenty of love and attention was given to the characters in charge of the ragtag Section 2, who between them have nearly all the best scenes, and who I consider to be the secret protagonists.

While the setting is, according to the story, in the future, there's a lot about this 1988 anime that shows its age, and not just in animation. Many of the cultural details and aspects of the setting place Patlabor in a time that's already gone by, and for a science fiction show, much of it is very exclusively Japanese. I am not saying that this is bad, in fact, this is what gives Patlabor its own sense of individuality. It would have been easy to make everything look shiny, new, and bizarre, but by only heightening the technology and setting when it's needed for the plot, the series gives off a comfortable, recognizable atmosphere, and adds to the honesty of the cast and dialogue. I was surprised by how nostalgic I felt watching this, even though it was about a place and time I was never able to experience. The animation team made what was familiar to them, and in turn, the same thing becomes familiar to the audience. A large part of what makes anime special amongst other mediums is the attention given to the beauty in simplicity, and even in a show that is, in name at least, about giant clunky robots, that still holds true. It's a common trend in anime nowadays, especially those with more minimalist plotlines, to give life to their world by making everything impeccably pretty, overwhelming the scenery with impressive visuals and meticulously crafted artistry, but, in my opinion, no matter how lovely they look in the moment, they all typically miss the feeling of reality that makes a scene feel immersive. There's nothing at all in the world Patlabor that looks pretty by itself, but it's the characters who live and interact in it, and it's simple, true-to-life look, that makes it more than just a cop show with robots.

While I am sure the TV show and movies expand greatly on the franchise, and as it is right now I'm left feeling like I've seen the least of Patlabor, what little I've watched is a solid anime nevertheless, and I do want to see more stories with those characters. While there are more mecha anime than can be counted, an extremely small number of them could honestly be called exceptional, and this is definitely one of them. I can see why this is so highly regarded amongst the older crowd of anime fans, and recommend it to anyone who likes the idea of giant robots and wants to see something more thoughtful from them. The TV series has most certainly been added to my to-watch list.

But in the meantime, what's next? Well, the last show I watched after making my grand return was a weird, artistic piece... and the show I just now reviewed was about mecha... hm... y'know, something has put me in a Hideaki Anno kinda mood. Nadia is next. Join me then!

[CJ]

Is this OVA an adaptation of the same story across different mediums? Or are the movies, TV show and other formats separate stories?

(save for the events of one episode, which is so dumb and out of place I won't even talk about it)

No, talk about it! I want to know this OVA's dirty secrets!

[Kyubey]

Aug 5, 2014 22:17:54 GMT -5 CJ said:

Is this OVA an adaptation of the same story across different mediums? Or are the movies, TV show and other formats separate stories?

(save for the events of one episode, which is so dumb and out of place I won't even talk about it)

No, talk about it! I want to know this OVA's dirty secrets!

The OVA and movies are part of the same continuity, and the TV series is a retelling. I think.

The dumb part I was referring to was the third episode. Spoilers for the episode I guess, but it involves the team investigating a monster attack, and ends with an encounter with a giant kaiju. While I will admit the buildup in the episode was actually pretty good, the entire climax was so jarring, and so completely went against the tone of the series, I couldn't think of a way to address it in the review itself. Since it was just that one part of the series, I decided to only mention it in passing. Hope that makes sense.

[Kyubey]

Are you an adventurer who seeks the true form of the mythical Ky who watches anime and talks about it here, beyond the waterfall named Perilous? If you are, you must find me! Today, I journey twenty thousand leagues, to give my thoughts on one special anime in particular. What anime you ask, brave adventurer?

Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water!

There are a lot of anime that are notable simply for the names attached to them, and this certainly ranks up there as one of them. This is the first full TV Series created by now legendary studio Gainax, as well as an early directorial endeavor by Hideaki Anno, creator of the polarizing anime Neon Genesis Evangelion. Based loosely on characters and ideas from the work of Jules Verne, the initial concept that sparked the creation of the story was provided by, of all people, Hayao Miyazaki. Being known today as one of the more notable series of the early nineties, this is a series that is fondly remembered today, and had a clear and obvious influence on many of the similar works that followed it. A history like that alone makes Nadia stand out, and thus it came as a shock to me, when I watched it, as I found that, judged merely by its own merits, Nadia is really just a fairly straightforward series, though still miles ahead of what it would have been competing with.

Our scene is set in an alternate universe version of the late 19th century, where a world that's only just beginning to reach the modern era is unknowingly threatened by ancient and terrible technology. The story centers on a mysterious girl, the titular Nadia, who carries with her a pendant that contains a great power, and Jean, the young French inventor she befriends. The two children, chased by those who wish to exploit Nadia's power, embark on a journey to uncover the secrets of her past, and along the way run into danger of all kinds, and meet various new people, who range from friendly to villainous, as well as everything in between. While the nature of their journey is mostly lighthearted, it doesn't take long for the serious reality of their world to set in. The dangers they face together start off deadly, and only increase in severity, and for much of the story’s darker moments, which do get surprisingly grim, they cannot truly rely on anything, save for their own wits and trust in one another. Over time, Nadia’s venture goes beyond a mere search for a missing past, to being a central point in a conflict between the natural, the scientific, and the magical, with the Earth itself at risk. All three sides of this conflict are given their due balance, with both the good points of each and the consequences of extremism being fairly demonstrated. As secrets are unveiled, and the adventure continues to escalate in scale, both Nadia and Jean grow up exponentially, not only through their interactions with each other, but with the people and the world around them. They’re both tasked with more responsibility that they think they cannot handle, and learn to accept it, and as they develop, the story does too, becoming more complex and enthralling with every new twist.

That is, until they get to the island. Oh. Oh, that island.

After a tense, weighty, and genuinely emotional episode about two thirds of the way through, which brings to resolution many of the more ongoing subplots, the anime transitions to an arc in which the leads must survive on a desert island. This arc is long, plodding, goes almost nowhere, and, most infuriatingly, is way more silly and flippant than any other part in the story. Most of the events that happen are clearly there to waste time, most infuriatingly in an extended dream sequence that goes on far too long, repeats animation, and just screams of filler. Even as the story meanders to something resembling an ongoing narrative in these episodes, it still feels needless and trite, and thoroughly grinds the flow to a halt. In many ways, this arc is a poison to the anime, making characters that were once endearing become suddenly insufferable, and turns relationships that used to be smart and well-written painfully awkward and irritating. While, after some time, they finally do manage to salvage some meaning, and move on from that island, The Secret of Blue Water just winds up plowing right into yet another ridiculous (thankfully shorter, but also rather tasteless) subplot. Eventually the writers do get back on track, but by the time they do, it already feels too late, and the ending kind of flounders in trying to get back to its former glory. Not helping matters is the series changing setting and feel vastly in its final act, and while the new scenery and designs are cool in their own way, it doesn’t compare to the unique atmosphere that made the earlier parts so good.

The Secret of Blue Water also suffers from choppy and limited animation. While much of the art and designs work by themselves, they don't always move quite right, leading to some scenes, especially those containing a lot of complicated actions, to seem clunking and awkward. Mouth flaps don't always match the dialogue (at least in the Japanese version, which is the one I watched) when they move at all, and there was at least one moment where a character started talking and another character's voice came out. However, in other areas, the lack of budget is compensated for in clever little ways, like having the primary antagonist always wear a mask. Even when the show resorts to using a recap episode, they manage to find a way to still make it fun. From the faulty animation to the clumsy pacing, it's clear that those involved with the creation of this series were all inexperienced when it comes to creating an ongoing story, and the fact that it works at all, and still manages to truly shine in places, is a sign of their vast talent. For those interested in anime history, Nadia is valuable, if only to see several great animators first finding their way when it comes to making a series.

What really sticks out when it comes to this anime, however, is the setting and designs. The Secret of Blue Water is set in and inspired by a time when there were still large parts of the world yet to be explored, and it takes full advantage of this, filling every scene and new location with a swelling sense of wonder and romance. This even rubs off on the characters themselves, who all have a sort of innocence about the way they look and move, perfectly fitting the kind of feeling Anno attempts to instill in the audience. Even when the series dives right into more mature themes and settings, there's still a lingering reminiscence of the classic adventure novels that it so clearly tries to emulate. By far the strongest point of the series, as far as designs go, comes near the middle, where the characters visit an old ruined city underwater. The buildup to getting there, and the ancient aesthetic of the place itself, is epic and solemn all at once. The episode takes enough time to let it sink in just how old the place was, and while there are some remnants of the city left, there is still much more lost forever. It was a powerful and vital moment in the story, and really left a strong impression with me long after they moved on from there.

As influential as Nadia would later become, it also took a lot of inspiration from other sources, which, for the most part, works out for the better. A certain segment of the audience will get a lot of entertainment out of finding the references to 19th Century history and technology, and fans of both anime and classic literature fans alike will be quick to notice all the little nods to the works that came before it. The way Nadia blends together concepts from both old adventure stories and early anime and manga is just excellent, in how they pull it off. Jean reminded me more of characters like Treasure Island's Jim Hawkins than any contemporary shonen protagonist, while Grandis and her cronies fit an archetype that's more in line with the anime medium. In freely utilizing elements from both art forms Nadia builds onto them both, making it one of the best aspects of the story as a whole. While Anno, at this stage of his career, was still relatively new to directing, by this point he had built up much experience as an animator on many other great works of anime lore, from Macross to Nausicaa to Honneamise, and we can see clearly in Nadia the things he learned from such gigantic works. That said, there are some aspects that run a little too close to their inspiration to be mere homage. The character of Captain Nemo looks exactly like Bruno J. Gloval from Macross, for example, and even the most casual viewer would immediately notice how closely Nadia parallels Miyazaki's Castle in the Sky. But even in these close similarities, there's a strength to the story, thanks largely in part to the skills of the scriptwriter.

What drives The Secret of Blue Water forward, even in some of its more meandering bits, are the relationships and interactions between the characters, which are honestly great. From the very beginning, both Jean and Nadia are radically different people, and it's their circumstances as well as their strong empathy for one another that brings them together. This isn't some modern high-school romance anime, where characters are inexplicably in love with each other just because. Both Jean and Nadia have to give some serious effort in order to understand each other, and make their relationship work. And because of this, they both grow tremendously as people, while not being forced to give up anything that makes them who they are for the sake of the other. Their differences and faults are acknowledged and overcome rather than being simply ignored, and because of this, both leads not only develop a close bond to the other, but they learn to respect each other as well, which is incredibly important. The other character interactions are nothing to overlook either, and I can really appreciate the writers going out of their way to develop strong interactions not just between a few leads, but between all the core cast. They do things together, they learn from one another, and by the end the primary leads build up something that feels very much like a family. The true stars of this cast, by the way, are the Grandis Gang, who not only steal the show every time they're on screen, they run away with it and hold it hostage. I just love those guys, and would give anything to see a series starring just them.

This anime was marketed towards both children and adults, and is one of the few works that has enough good points to make it equally enjoyable to both. The kids watching would be immediately caught up in the larger-than-life journey and locations, while also being entertained by the comedic interludes. Meanwhile, there are enough merits to the storytelling to engage the adults as well, and leave them with some things to think about, particularly in regards to the conflict mentioned earlier, between nature and science. Nature, as most strongly demonstrated by Nadia's character, is empathetic and kind, but without wisdom applied, can quickly put her in danger more than it will save her. Meanwhile, her initial distrust of nearly everyone, and desire to survive purely on her own, causes her to push others away, and harms many of her relationships with people. Science, meanwhile, is shown to have the potential to be utilized for pure human selfishness, and, if applied without conscience, can lead to unspeakable destruction. Still, as shown by Jean, it can just as easily be used alongside nature, as a means of helping others rather than for a simplistic personal gain, and it is then that science becomes instrumental in solving problems. It is no coincidence that some of the most loyal and friendly characters are also amongst the more scientifically minded in the cast. And finally, the unknown is exemplified in both Captain Nemo and the main villain. The power they gain from their magical technology is as amazing as it is impossible, but left unchecked, their obsessive devotion to the unknown causes some of the most major conflicts. No one thing is treated as the singular right answer, and both good and bad comes from people, not from ideology or technology. These ideas are put forth clearly and unmistakably, but while never stopping for one of the characters to bluntly say what the moral is, showing that, even in relatively older anime, and in a show aimed at a younger audience no less, subtly and maturity can still be achieved. Not to say that nothing in Nadia is done to excess, for there are big melodramatic bits, heavyhanded messages, and some characters do still show emotions in sad moments by scream-crying, but nevertheless, the strong writing is really what shows through. There's a brilliant scene midway in the series, where a minor character is forced by necessity to make a heroic sacrifice for the sake of others. I won't spoil what happens, but the way the writers, directors, and voice actors handle the scene is as excellent and thought-provoking as it is haunting. Underneath the faults and the coat of whimsy paint, there's some real meat to this anime.

Now, this is a show by Hideaki Anno, and I doubt there's a single person left in the world of anime fans that doesn't have a strong opinion about his most recognizable work one way or another. And there are marks of his involvement peppered throughout. The main character of course goes through a period of doubt and self loathing (one of Anno's favorite themes, it seems) and the Biblical references and iconography are unavoidable. Still, even if you despise Evangelion, that doesn't mean there's nothing you might like about Nadia, and despite sharing both a director and a studio, they're different enough so that a layperson could watch the two series and never notice the connection. And really, knowing there is a relation is by no means required to enjoy it. In fact, to the right person, The Secret of Blue Water, with its European look, creative designs, and a charm that comes from honesty, may just be a good gateway for those uncertain about anime as a medium.

The Secret of Blue Water is a rarity in our current age: a classically-minded adventure story that doesn't hurt itself with cynicism or self-parody. The way it looks, flows, and sounds calls to mind a very childlike feeling, but in a way that still makes it stand out. I would never call it a great series, it has too many imperfections for that, but it easily could have been, and has enough strong points to be memorable. Despite the parts I didn't like, I really enjoyed the time I spent watching, perhaps in some part because the style is one that I very much find appealing. Would it be for everyone? No, but if you seek adventure, this is a fine series to add to your viewing list.

Okay, so what's next? Hm... by this point, you're probably real tired of me talking about old anime, aren't you? Alright, fine. I can be diverse in my tastes. I can watch newer series and talk about them, too. Up next is From the New World. School's starting again now, so it may take a while, but dammit, I can still review. So, join me then?

[Kyubey]

To you, a thousand years from now, I hope, above all else, that you may read Ky Watches Anime and Talks About it Here. And today, I'm going to write a few words...

From the New World!

So school and Our Inked Obsession have come together to kick my ass, it seems, and therefore I do not have as much time to write these as I'd like. So this review will be a bit shorter. Please bear with me here. I thought about skipping the review entirely, but as the final episode closes, I feel as though I have an obligation to talk about what made this special. Here goes.

From the New World takes place in a dark point in humanity, perhaps the darkest of all: the unknown future. This anime, based on a series of light novels, takes place in a future where humans have gained psychic powers, and both society and the very look of the world changed drastically. The story follows a group of students, one girl in particular, over various points in their lives, as they grow up in a culture still trying to shape itself. Under the pretense of a utopia, the world carries with it a lot of terrible secrets, many of which come right to the forefront very early on, while other twists are held right until the end. The atmosphere of the story is heavy and almost sad, but most notably with an underlying sense of dread to almost everything. When the protagonists are children, this feeling lies mostly underneath the surface, with the focus still on establishing the universe and the people in it, but always there's this fear of what's not understood. Of course, when one is still young, it's natural to be afraid of the unknown. But as the leads grow up, however, this feeling does not go away. On the contrary, as the unknown takes on a clearer shape, the fear only seems more real. This is possibly one of the scariest anime I've ever seen, while never using jump scares or cheap spooky tactics. It can get away with being horrifying without most of the usual tropes of the genre, by instead preying on an entirely different set of fears, that is, a fear of within, the terror of what we might become. Because of this, it's not exactly an easy show to watch, but when it hits its stride, it grips the viewer and doesn't let go. It does fall prey to the trappings of many other light novel adaptations, like narration explaining what could have been conveyed through action or dialogue, or lengthy conversations where silence was most needed, but the strengths of the directing win out in the end.

One of the underlying themes from the beginning, that later comes right to center stage in the second half, is racism, played out through a storyline about the freakish Monster Rats, and their relationship with humans. In regards to stories that have taken on prejudice as a theme, despite its many forms and the many ways of talking about it, most all of them handle the subject in the same way. They put the perspective on either the oppressed group or their supporters, showing their inherent dignity and humanity. This provides a clear narrative, one with a clear sense of right and wrong, and that's the way it should be. In regards to racism, or oppression of any kind, there need not be a lot of effort to explain why it's bad. That, however, leads to the inherent problem with most of these stories, in that they're repeating a moral that most everyone in the audience agrees with anyway. Nobody sees themselves as being the group in the wrong, even when they are, so there's not much to take away from them. From the New World, on the other hand, flips the perspective, and uses the medium of science fiction to explore the theme in a much different light. At no point is much effort put into making the inhuman Monster Rats look like the people they interact with. By our standards, they seem pathetic at best, but hideous would be a more accurate term. Their look suggests something in between pigs and rodents, they speak with high, squealing, nasal voices, and their mannerisms make them seem lowly, cruel, and disgusting. Even after they prove themselves to be intelligent and complex in their own right, it's a challenge to see them as much more than animals with human speech. But that's just the brilliance of the show. By painting the 'other' as undignified as possible, they place the viewer in the role of the bigot, unable to see differences as anything but a negative. In placing us in such a spot, the anime deconstructs perceptions and rebuilds them from the ground up. The plight of the Monster Rats, made apparent even by the name humans gave them, is a horrible and tragic one, and while many actions of individual members of the species are undoubtedly wrong, they're just that: actions of individuals. At no point does From the New World tell us that the Monster Rats deserve all the rights and respect that humans have, but they don't have to. They let us realize it all over again, even when the main characters themselves don't. After all, while the characters have been steeped in a world that told them they're different and special, we, in our modern era, know that's not the way it is... right? It's one of the most original takes on a familiar theme I've seen, and one that takes full advantage of its medium and genre. The final word they give on the subject is one that has been heard before, many times, in fact, but when they say it, it feels like it really means something. And, given the inarguable truth of said message, it absolutely should have meaning.

The anime makes an attempt at ending on a hopeful note, but it's one that drips in sarcasm. "Things are bad now, but can change later," is a sentiment repeated time and again, and it is good to recall all the progress that's been made. On the surface, when this series repeats that message, it seems optimistic, but it only betrays the harsher truth behind the setting: it's not our past, it's our future. There are small shreds of good in the setting, but it's ultimately a nightmare, where we're doomed to make small steps of progress, and then sink back into an awful decline, forever. By the end of the series, the seemingly straight-forward title, From the New World, feels like a cruel joke.

There's much more to be said about the series, to the point where what I covered only barely touches on all the strengths and faults. However, instead of going more into it, I will instead leave you with but a recommendation. Watch the series for yourself, and others like it. Go into it fresh. Form your own opinions, see what stands out to you. I've been the only one here watching anime and talking about it, but all perspectives are equally valid. Compared to what you might see in a work of art, what value does my rambling have? So I'll leave you with the goal to watch as many interesting things as you can, and look beneath the surface to see what you can learn. Remember, since the first stories were told, they've served the purpose of teaching us as much as they entertain. And if something you see holds value to you, share it with others! More perspectives and insights can only help further our understanding of the medium we love so much. Thanks for reading my dumb little reviews. Keep on watching animated children's shows.