Their faces are all shrouded!

Speaking from my own experience, I saw the sisters of my high school friends as alien, inscrutable beings. It’s not even that boyish “eww girls!” disgust. I felt nothing could be gained by trying to get to know them, so I never did. And then again, I was always the antisocial prick in high school.

Back to talking about the anime! It’s funny because it portrays how boy-centric the show is. It’s a world where the sisters are walking punchlines, where they’re called not by their own names but by their relation to the brothers. “Hey, Tadakuni’s Sister!” is already funny in itself.

Of course, the show reverses this in the post-ED part of episode 3. It works both ways!

Sometimes, when it’s not busy showing the good stuff (i.e. whatever’s the fetish of the season), anime deigns to provide us with scenes of civilians being slaughtered due to an enemy threat. There’s the occasional creative death (Zambot 3), incredible displays of carnage that abruptly change the show’s mood (Eureka 7), and the blink-it-and-you’ll-miss-it (Macross: Do You Remember Love). But most often it’s just screams and stampedes, as if the display of dying cartoon characters is something creators would gladly wash their hands off from.

So while Symphogear doesn’t push all the right buttons for me, it earns my respect for actually showing civilians being slaughtered at the hands of the Noise. That shows us how much weight the heroines have on their backs, by making the audience see the horror for themselves.

It’s easy to be jaded by blood splatters and mutilation. God knows how that sort of thing gets overused in live-action media. But it’s the unnatural perversion and destruction of the human body that gets me. This is one of the strengths of animation, providing a medium in which something abstract (humans turning into a texture not unlike burnt paper, then peeling away in scraps) becomes something terrifying in context.

It also reminds us that not everyone could be saved. Some shows are too enamored with their own heroes to show us what could have happened without their intervention, and even despite it. Do you have a favorite show that drives this point home? I’d like to know.

But for me, nothing scares me more than the Festum from Soukyuu no Fafner. To just disappear along with the few square meters of space around you… I think I’ll go hide under the sheets for that one.

Mouretsu Pirates is one of those questionable premise shows that you’ll either love or hate. While I liked it, I was surprised with how it used its sci-fi setting to its advantage.

While not everything is entirely futuristic (there’s a maid cafe after all), the show puts attention to detail in spots that I applaud for:

1. The ship in the OP corrects its course with verniers. Verniers are cool. They single-handedly made Gundam 0083 look so pretty.

2. There’s an entirely believable (I’m not qualified to say “realistic”) orbital landing sequence that looks great to boot. And this is just a club activity. Coolest club? Coolest club.

3. Commuter cars that you summon for a ride! I like the idea.

4. The maid cafe is explained to be an animanachronism because of human labor. It’s cheap because there aren’t any robots around. It may be a throwaway explanation, but I appreciate the attempt at justifying it. And it’s like I’m really in 21st-century Akihabara!

5. To gain access to her home, Marika needs a retinal scan, a fingerprint scan, a PIN, and a voice-activated lock, after which the front door opens in a really cool fashion.

6. Even the pocket watch looks amazing.

7. Yes, that bionic eye broadcasts the man’s thoughts. He thinks it’s delicious.

8. A laser squeeze pistol. A prime assassin’s weapon, you could conceal it in one hand. That’s a lens!

Clearly, Tatsuo Sato is no slouch. The world might not entirely make sense, there’s some questionable use of chocolate parfait, but it’s fun.

The new season is off to a good start. Let’s Piracy!

For my random historical military fiction fix, I’m reading Gunka no Baltzar. It’s set in 18th century Europe (with country names changed), and the main character is an aspiring Weiben (which is all but Prussia in name) officer who’s sent to become an advisor to a neighboring country’s military academy.

Balzer, the aforementioned protagonist, encounters friction and resistance due to Baselland’s backward military doctrine and organization. There’s some political intrigue, but thankfully not too heavy to detract from serious military reform. This may be a story in peacetime (at least for now), but I like how it deals with the necessity of a nation to have the means to defend itself, without falling into the disease of self-serving, wishful pacifism.

The art is strikingly detailed, and the setting is well-researched. Oh, and there’s some valkyrie cosplay, too! At five chapters scanlated, this manga is fairly new, but it’s worth your time if you’re fond of historical militaries like me.

This post is part of the 12 Days series.

The Universal Century is not too long as opposed to other fictional timelines, but its 150 years have been fraught with the major war or two, and a dozen different petty conflicts.

UC 0096, where Gundam Unicorn takes place in, is nowhere near the end of charted wars. So it becomes very poignant when two conversations in episode 4 expound on the woes that plague the Earth Sphere. Audrey in the diner shows the rift between Spacenoid and Earthnoid, while taking a stab at CCA Char (as if he needed it). Banagher in the desert is about the futility of making both sides see eye-to-eye with each other, enabling the main character to shed his tears in a gnawing feeling of powerlessness and anguish.

Yes, the content of these scenes are very good. But what kills me is, in the grand scheme of things, none of the problems they address will be solved in the knowable future. Their insignificant lives will burn out like a candle in the wind, and the Earth Sphere will remain wracked in pockets of fighting. Because in the grim darkness of the Universal Century, there is only the exploitation of robot toys.

But it’s conversations like these that remind me how Gundam is a sci-fi series. The ideals are lofty, but humanity can’t keep up. And that Audrey, the diner owner, Banagher, and Zinnerman are just dust. Dust, yes, who can’t help but hope. I wonder how rich Gundam would be if it could spend explaining its themes in this manner, instead of during climactic battles!

This post is part of the Reverse Thieves’ Secret Santa Project.

Bokurano was a show I’ve been wanting to watch but never had the time to, and my Secret Santa was kind enough to offer it for my viewing. Naturally, I jumped at the chance.

(The other picks were Heroic Age, Gigantic Formula, and strangely enough, Clannad After Story. I think I have an idea of who my Secret Santa is!)

What confronted me was quite an interesting beast. I immediately latched on to the concept of humongous, several-skyscrapers-tall mecha battling it out in battles that are given the generous time limit of 48 hours to conclude. In this regard, the 3DCG works just right, capturing the awkward, ponderous actions of the mecha. You can practically imagine them creaking their joints as they move from their ready position.

It disappoints me, however, that the battles are so plainly and simplistically concluded. The protagonists’ mecha, Zearth (a play upon the phrase “The Earth”), never really feels threatened by any of its opponents. The kid pilots would always devise a solution in the nick of time, turn the tables on their adversaries, and triumph. The mecha battles were never the point of the show, but the richness of the concept was not utilized to its full potential. I can’t imagine Zearth and its skittery cousins to feature in a future Super Robot Wars game.

It’s a shame, because I enjoy the rarely-used concept of a mecha as a giant god of destruction. Zearth is a machine that operates on principles that are utterly uncaring of humans; it is neither a savior or an avatar of humanity, instead it is an alien, amoral force that cares not what it destroys.

Anyway, I’ll get to the real meat of the show, which is the characters. There are 14 kids who are chosen to pilot Zearth, but the catch is that the robot uses their life force to operate, hence killing a pilot for every battle. The anime focuses on each of the pilots’ lives as they come to terms with their impending death and duty–to win the battle is to die, but to lose is to have the entire universe die with you.

The kids are all varied: there are utter assholes, unexpected heroes and heroines, and there are really nice ones. I found myself getting into a few characters’ stories (Kirie, Mako, and Daichi), but Gonzo’s low-budget production and uninspired presentation didn’t help. The stories are written quite well, but the anime fails to make them come alive.

The second half particularly became boring for me, as the show focused on how the Japanese government reacted to Zearth. While this could have been interesting in its own right (had the direction been more competent), why go out of your way to expound on this, when you already have a goldmine of difficult teenage pilots to work with? It dragged too far away from the original strengths of the story.

Don’t get me wrong. I enjoyed the show, and the ending was actually satisfying in tying things up. Uninstall is even a damn good song. But all in all, I wouldn’t recommend the Bokurano anime to most people. It’s simply uneven and nowhere near pretty. Some mecha fans might welcome the fresh, atypical battles… if they’re willing to put up with the show’s shortcomings. Or you could read the manga, which is markedly different.

This post is part of the 12 Days series.

2011 marked the year that the second and final Macross Frontier movie got its video release, much to the elation of many Macross fans. It proved to be much better than everyone had expected, and is near the top of my list for the best offerings of the year.

I was particularly entranced with Sheryl’s awesome feats, the best one happening near the climax of the film, where a dying Grace hands her back her earring. Despite her body failing, Sheryl resolves to die singing, and faces the ruins of City Frontier with only her voice, which hasn’t lost a drop of its vitality. It is with her song that Alto tracks her down.

It’s just a lead-in to the best song performance in the franchise, but it’s the precise moment where I thought “wow, shit just got real.”

Surprise, surprise, it got even realer. But that’s another story!

This post is part of the 12 Days series.

Episode 3 of Usagi Drop sees Rin wetting her bed and (vainly) trying to hide it. When Daikichi finds out, Rin asks him some hard questions.

“What’s it like to die? Are you going to die before me?”

Daikichi realizes that it’s this fear of death that keeps Rin from sleeping soundly. Since she’s young, it’s impossible for her to resolve such thoughts on her own. Instead of giving a straight answer, he dodges the question with a bold claim–that he won’t die until Rin reaches a mature age. He puts Rin at ease by assuring her that there’s nothing shameful about wetting one’s bed. And it’s enough to calm Rin down.

The scene made me realize how hard it is to be a parent. You tell your child all these white lies, because the stark truth will be too much to handle. Daikichi is betting his all on a long life, wanting Rin (and himself, too) to believe that he’ll be there as long as the girl needs him.

It’s a thought-provoking scene for me, because I keep on thinking about death. Not in a morbid way, but I always find myself contemplating the hows and whys and most importantly, the “what’s next?” I appreciated Daikichi’s answer, even if it’s a bit simplified to be child-friendly. After all, there’s nothing Rin could gain by contemplating such a topic at her innocent age.

This post is part of the 12 Days series. Title in reference to this post.

I have a lot of fond moments from Nichijou, Kyoto Animation’s crazy experimental sakuga anime. But the one I want to write about is the last part of episode 23. where Mai visits Professor to (presumably) atone for scaring her with dogs in the previous episode.

Professor doesn’t want to speak with Mai. After all, kids don’t hide their feelings to other people, especially if you terrorize them with your dogs. But when Mai makes a really good sketch of a shark, that’s when she captures Professor’s heart.

“Hey, draw another shark!” Professor demands. Mai agrees, her deadpan voice becoming increasingly laced with delight as Professor piles up on her shark-related drawing requests. When Nano returns, Mai is already gone, holding Professor’s shark drawing close to her heart. Daww.

I found the whole scene funny and heartwarming. Throughout the show, Mai is a total sociopath, but she does have her own inexplicable soft side. Meeting her own match in a kid, she had to understand Professor on the latter’s own terms. They are SAME; they are the SAME. Look what she got in the end!

Or maybe she’s just a lolicon. Either explanation is fine~

This post is part of the 12 Days series.

General Borcuse was a great antagonist. Voiced by Kazuya Nakai, he had this scary, drawling voice that commanded fear and respect from both his allies and enemies. His calm demeanor was contrasted with how violent and merciless he was on the battlefield. In spite of this, he was a doting father and caring husband.

In the final offering of the Broken Blade movie series, Borcuse fights Rygart’s Delphine in a climactic battle. It could have gone either way, but Borcuse’s Hykelion gives out in one crucial moment, costing him the fight.

Borcuse, refusing to be beaten by such a “broken blade”, gets out of his cockpit and pelts Rygart with shots, all the while wearing a sardonic smile on his face. He runs out of bolts, and calmly reloads a fresh magazine.

That’s when Rygart loses it and kills him.

I found this measure of defiance to be incredibly badass, derived from Dozle Zabi’s last stand in Mobile Suit Gundam. But I found this cooler because Borcuse never gave up hope until the last moment, trying his luck at the Delphine’s half-exposed cockpit. What a frightening soldier.