If I have to go with my gut feeling, then I do not like this.

The foremost reason why I am watching Attack on Titan is for the action. Humans sailing through the cityscape, Spider-Man style, in order to fight giants many times their size is such a novelty that I want to see how it works. And for the most part the anime keeps me satisfied by making these scenes impressive. The appearance of a human-aligned Titan, changes the playing field completely. Humanity now has a trump card, a powerful weapon that can fight Titans on an even footing. I would suppose that this Titan is man-made, and that in trying to defeat monsters humanity decided to make its own.

I find it disingenuous, a copout where the author realizes that humanity has no chance after all, and proceeds to write himself out of the corner. It’s like giving a Gundam to the side which only has Balls to fight Zakus. While I doubt they’re going to mass-produce this Titan as to eliminate the squishy human component of the army, it’s going to factor in battles more than I would like.

Of course, there is much more to Attack on Titan than action. But I don’t find the non-action parts that good. The grimdark setting doesn’t have too much nuance in it (and I am saying this as an avid consumer of Warhammer 40k fiction both good and bad). Mikasa, who has gotten a lot of the spotlight recently, is a textbook example of an author trying hard to write a Strong Female Character (actually, she is quite the opposite, more on this in a future post). As an action fan drawn to this show for the action itself, this is a step down, plain and simple.

Note: I am not reading the manga and have no intention to. I would appreciate if you could limit discussion up to this episode.

Suisei no Gargantia is one of the three mecha anime airing this season (four if we count a certain HD remaster). Out of them, it’s the one with the loftiest concept in the vein of Toward the Terra or Battlestar Galactica. That said, it’s more of a science fiction show with robots than a true mecha anime, with its own set of advantages and disadvantages.

I think the biggest perk the show enjoys is not having to resort to employing its mecha to justify itself as a mecha anime. In general, mecha anime can’t spend more than an episode without using or alluding to its mecha, for that is its primary hook and appeal. Gargantia is comfortable with relegating Chamber to the sidelines, employing it when it is needed for the story but never when it’s gratuitous to do so. In fact, I enjoy the show’s creative use of Chamber’s incredible abilities beyond their intended scope, which is combat. It’s entertaining to watch Chamber having to limit its powers in order to not kill humans, or acquire fish without mincing them. I liken it to Turn A Gundam, where Loran’s limited operational knowledge of the Turn A levels the playing field, keeping combat fresh and exciting.

Aside from that, the atmosphere of fleet Gargantia is very lush and vivid. It’s a gorgeous show with great visual design. Humanity of Earth has a rugged, yet cheerful glow in them, and it’s an interesting culture to clash with Ledo’s ultra-militaristic Galactic Empire. While I, like any proper adult anime fan with proper adult tastes, turned up my nose at the mention of swimsuits and belly-dancing (episode 5-6), those episodes have turned out to be pretty good and in line with the show’s tone. (Those who complain about butts should be ushered to the nearest Strike Witches episode.)

Now, let’s talk about disadvantages. I’ll link you to this interview of the director, in which he reveals that the show’s message is to encourage the Japanese youth to bravely integrate themselves into society (which is probably a nice way of telling NEETs to get a job). Learning about this intent actually removes some of my enjoyment from the show. If they want to get this point across, then they’ll have to write themselves in a way that supports it, which may not be the most interesting plotline to follow. It even narrows the possible endings the show could do.

Why does this make me upset? You see, I like stories because they’re good stories. I like them because they’re clever, well-written, and entertaining. I can decide what a story means to me after I’m done with it. I don’t trust the author saying that their work is about this or that, because they could imbue their story with whatever themes they want and I could feel bad for missing it, or worse, elicit the opposite reaction. Now that I know Gargantia’s theme, I start seeing it everywhere in the show. If Ledo stands for the young Japanese graduates who are unequipped to adapt to modern society, then what does Chamber stand for? The irrelevant skillset that the educational system equips him with? A mother who spoils her NEET child? I want to be entertained first! I can think about that later.

Perhaps I’m to blame here, too, for letting the interview cloud my approach to the show, but in my opinion, the high-concept premise is a little squandered if you’re just going to make an appeal to Japan’s disenfranchised youth.

But I don’t also deny that Gargantia is a show that the Japanese do need. It’s probably just not what most of us were expecting it to be, but it’s still not as bad as its detractors have been claiming. Knowing this, I’ve recalibrated my expectations a bit, and can continue on watching.

The hostile country’s forces lay siege to your fortress, and you are locked in mortal combat with the enemy’s champion. But you have a trump card, a method of escape. You use it, taking along a loyal aide, swearing revenge on your enemies. You promise to return with a vengeance.

Except that you don’t. You land somewhere else. Wherever it is, it’s not your land, or anywhere you know. There are people, but they are different. It’s not as if they are hostile to you, but they are apathetic. You are a nobody in this strange and terrifying new world, where technology is magic and vice-versa.

Your immediate concern is to return to your land and avenge your country’s defeat. But whatever conveyance you used doesn’t function anymore, so your next priority is to find a way to return it to working order.

To do so, you must survive and fend off for yourselves. You and your aide learn the ways of the world. It is harsh, and you barely get by. Time passes, and there is no sign or clue of how to get back home. You keep soldiering on, but wait a minute! Didn’t you want to beat back the enemy occupation in your country? Why are you worrying about work tomorrow? You try to convince yourself that you’re doing this in order to return to power, but home seems so distant, its concerns so trivial to your mind. Maybe it’s this world’s people, who treat you differently. You were feared back at home! Now you have to earn it all over again!

Somehow, your mortal enemy appears, swearing vengeance and all sorts of unpleasant things lined up for you. But like you, she is powerless, and forced to work with the ways of this world. She is a link back home, but why does she sound so… petty? Why do her actions seem so ridiculous, carrying a grudge across worlds? You are both mired and helpless, and want nothing more to be back at home, but why isn’t she cooperating?

And then you learn why she hates you so much. It is the story of many, but you never imagined that hers was one of them. She had a loved one who died to your army’s swords. Because of this, she swore revenge and became the greatest thorn in your side, the hero of the enemy’s army. Maybe you even suffered the same tragedy. You wish you could humor her, to summon up your own strong feelings towards the matter, but it feels so unreal compared to the riddle of your next meal. In your clumsy interaction with one other, you see that she isn’t really the genocidal maniac you thought her to be, and she begrudges the thought that maybe you could act out of altruism, too.

But it doesn’t end there. More people show up from your world, and threaten to end both of you. You can’t be allowed to exist, they say, but their reasons are so beneath you that you can’t help but laugh at them. They went all the way here… to secure their own power? Suddenly you don’t feel like you know your home anymore. It’s almost tempting to just let them squabble for eternity, after you’ve ceased to be part of the equation.

It’s a funny feeling, but you want to protect this world that refuses to acknowledge you because you’ve done nothing of worth. And when you do finally get to return home, there’s going to be a lot of restructuring.

* * *

Sometimes I really wonder if Maou-sama is an allegory for our fractured humanity. Different countries squabble among themselves. What if we exiled all world leaders into another world? How would they react to the change? Would they be forced to cooperate with hated enemies, or would they try to settle the score there? If they were to be made to look at our planet from the outside, can they see their own problems with a broader perspective? Two arbitrary groups of people living on clumps of land with arbitrarily-drawn borders, hurting and maiming and killing each other because of a difference in faith, wealth, skin, or culture?

Maybe the lesson is that some people aren’t really as evil as presented, and that some causes aren’t as just as some people believe them to be. And, if these people are put in the same life-threatening position, then maybe they should put their differences aside and work together. After all, maybe we’re all just human beings. Devils or angels, our labels get peeled away in the face of great adversity, in which we redefine ourselves by what we do, not what we were.

Forgive me, I’m just in a thoughtful mood tonight.

One of my favorite shows of this season, as well as my favorite among the mecha shows currently airing, is Galactic Strike Force Majestic Prince. It has good action, well-designed mecha, and a fun mix of quirky characters. It takes me back to a time when mecha wasn’t obsessed with reliving its past glories and franchises, because this show has its own voice and is actively trying to do something new.

Perhaps the real strength of the show rests on its main characters, a team of five young pilots collectively dubbed the Failure Five. While they are individually competent, their  personalities clash in a way that renders teamwork impossible, a fact that everyone else feels keen on reminding them. What’s interesting is that they are issued advanced and powerful mechs in spite of this, because their abnormally-high survival instincts ironically make them the best-suited candidates for the role.

This is a shift from the traditional plot progression of real robot anime. Usually, the main character learns his mecha in a short amount of time, allowing him to dominate the enemy quickly until he is faced with increasing challenges, which necessitates an upgrade in the form of a new ability, a new weapon, or a new mecha entirely. In Majestic Prince, it’s quickly established that the main characters’ mechs are already strong enough, and it’s the pilots’ deficiencies that prevents them from winning handily. Therefore, their sorties are desperate battles with overwhelming odds stacked against them, and they only survive by the skin of their teeth.

The problem with the traditional approach is that it places the role of the battlefield trump card on the mechanical element–it is the new weapon or mecha that wins the war, which makes the conflict a mere arms race between opposing factions, which can easily fall into the trap of reaching incredulous levels of power that render the initial setup all but unrecognizable. For instance, in Code Geass, the mechs start off as exclusively land-based with simple ballistic weapons, but by the end they boast advanced flight capabilities and beams that can decimate entire squads. At worst, it becomes a brazen ploy to sell toys, with pointless variants or recolors introduced to fatten up a mecha product catalog. It has now become taken for granted by mecha fans that a stronger mech or upgrade would appear in the middle of the story to escalate the conflict to its conclusion.

In contrast, Majestic Prince tries to engage the viewer through its characters–they are the rightful stars of the show. It succeeds by portraying its characters as people, instead of a mere set of traits. The Failure Five may all have their quirks, but they are also hurt from their failures and try to find meaning in their lives. The audience is made to care for them, because the payoff of a successful battle rests on their shoulders. We want them to master themselves and their mechs, so that they could fight more gloriously and win. Thus every episode is an exercise in character development, which is treated sincerely and honestly.

Of course, there’s no telling if the show would give its mechs a mid-season upgrade, but the anime shows us that every victory should be hard-fought, won not by mecha but by human pilots instead, and that keeps me watching.

PS: My favorite character is Kei. Despite her no-nonsense attitude, she doesn’t feel like she’s above her teammates when they goof off. I also like the idea of a support mech being the eyes and ears of the team.

Sometimes it feels like Oreimo becomes an entirely different show when not focused on the main characters. Episode 3 of the second season feels like a sincere, intimate episode from the likes of Genshiken.

I’m glad to not have written a Saori post until now. I had been holding out until I learn more about her backstory, about the circumstances that made Saori Makishima don an alter ego just to make otaku friends. She’s easily the most mature and considerate of the characters, a model otaku whom we could all aspire to. The answer was surprising.

It’s revealed in this episode that Saori was once a shy and lonely girl, who gradually opened up to her sister Kaori’s circle of friends. But those happy days did not last when Kaori suddenly left. Little by little, the group drifted away, and Saori blamed her sister.

But Kaori’s friends were never fully Saori’s friends at all–they were Kaori’s in the first place. She had been inducted to the circle, but remained partly an outsider. She was there, but never truly belonged. This drove Saori to make friends on her own, to build up a circle by herself.

The biggest takeaway here was how Saori drew her strength from loneliness, and aided by the kindness of her closest friend, Kanata. It was Kanata who deigned to show her many wonderful things and made an otaku out of her. Saori Bajeena would never have existed without Kanata, for she provided it all–the glasses and insatiable desire to reach out and befriend others.

Here’s my theory: otaku are driven by loneliness. It doesn’t matter what kind of person we are, introvert or extrovert, because loneliness is universal. Our interests are intensely personal, looking inward. We obsess on solitary pursuits, glad for the chance to be ourselves and not have to put up appearances for others.

Sadly, this loneliness often turns into bitterness and misery. When this happens, we lash out at others. We say mean things to each other. We close ourselves from the world and take pride in our seclusion from it.

But there’s another way. Personal experience has showed me that lonely people can be capable of great compassion and friendship. As another otaku-centric show said, pain is power, and we can sublimate it. Ultimately, Saori’s exposure to her sister’s friends, however temporary, proved beneficial to her, as she grew up into a strong, kind person. She had found a friend who sincerely connected with her in shared interests.

When Kanata gave her glasses to Saori, it was a way of telling her to pay it forward. Just as she had been graced with friendship, Saori must now reach out to others who had been like her, alone and without anyone to talk to about a hobby shrouded in ignorance and disdain. Her initial reasons may have been petty, but the results speak for themselves: Kirino and Kuroneko are both better people with her company.

Before this episode, I thought that Saori was this mythical otaku deity who overflowed with goodness. Now, I learn that she’s just a normal person, bruised and miserable at one point in her life, who rose up to dole out the gift of friendship to other lonely souls. Because of this, she has gained even more of my respect. It makes an admirable example of how we could channel the yearning in our hearts into friendship.

What does Saori Bajeena teach us? Sincerity, and openness. Kanata had been both to her; Kanata had shown Saori lots of things because she liked them, and thought that Saori could have fun, too. Unlike Kirino and Kuroneko, Saori never belittles anyone for their tastes. She’s too busy liking things than putting others down. Some otaku want to be seen as purveyors of good taste, so they judge others harshly for not sharing their own interests. Not Saori. She doesn’t have to flaunt her otaku cred. She simply has it.

The fact that Saori was able to pull in a group is no small wonder. Years before, I had a crippling fear of offkais. I was, after all, meeting with strangers, and who knows what crazy sort of people I’d run into? It takes courage to meet people and move from strangers to friends. You have to believe in the goodness of people.

One final thing I want to talk about is Saori’s disguise. Saori Bajeena is like an otaku straight out of the 80′s, from the swirly glasses to the rolled-up posters jutting out of her backpack like beam sabers. It helps that Saori is an otaku of the old school, but I also believe that she puts on a face in order to downplay her social status, which is a potential barrier to making friends. People would be intimidated by a rich lady, and might even interpret her niceness as the condescension of the rich. Otaku are even more susceptible to this, because of the whole riajuu thing. The disguise is a uniform, a message of solidarity. It says: “I’m one of you, so let’s be friends!”

What do you say?

The Oreimo Post Series:

1. My Oreimo Can’t Be This Thoughtful
2. Kirino, the Misery of Lonely Fans, and the Importance of Making Friends
3. Saori, Owner of a Lonely Heart (Still the Best Kind of Fan)

I’ve been watching Attack On Titan, though I’m not a manga reader (have you seen the art? It’s hideous!). My reasons are very simple, it’s because I want to see how people playing Spider-Man with swords can take on horrific man-eating giants, because the entire thing is gorgeous, both the wire-slinging and man-eating parts. The story and premise are nothing we haven’t seen before, but it’s trying something neat, so I’m giving it a pass.

So it’s not odd at all that by episode 3, I finally found a character to root for. Potato Girl, voiced by the delightful Yuu Kobayashi, who serves as the show’s comic relief. Eren wants to kill all the giants because of revenge, Mikasa wants to protect Eren and keep him from doing something stupid, like, I dunno, getting his sorry ass killed. Fairly standard, right? But Potato Girl, well, she just wants to eat! Giants didn’t eat my mom, and I thankfully have no friends who keep on getting themselves into trouble for me to rescue them, but often I am hungry and craving for a goddamn potato.

However, there’s something the episode did really shitty at, and can you guess what it is?

That’s right! Eren’s entire ordeal with the wire-gear aptitude test. See, you’re in the army, the only army, the one standing between humanity and the giants. You’re going to stick that pointy end into a giant’s fleshy, vulnerable bits, so you gotta handle that gear correctly. Eren can’t even balance himself right in a contraption that simply pulls you up on the ground to dangle on your two feet, so he’s in danger of being sent away.

But it turns out to be that Eren’s belt mechanism is broken, so he had been trying to perform a balancing exercise on a handicap, and he could actually do it! Isn’t that the first thing they should inspect before hauling Eren up? The mecha anime equivalent would be making a character use a simulator to determine her piloting aptitude, but no one bothered to check if the simulator was configured properly, so the enemy moves way too fast or the mech’s balancer is defective. So she fails.

I’m annoyed because it’s lame, because it’s such a transparently dumb shounen trick to show that Eren’s actually good, because surprise! It wasn’t him, it was his belt. And he’s impressive, because he managed to balance himself a bit despite his handicap! It cheapens the drama concerning Eren and his determination to throw himself at the giants who ate his mom, because it’s contrived and insults the audience’s intelligence.

Well, at least next episode seems to promise actual action. And more Potato Girl!

(Look them up, then come back here.)

The simple explanation for these is that Shun Saeki, the artist, is the real name of the eromanga artist tosh. So what is an eromanga artist doing in Shounen Jump? Beats me! I find it amusing, because Saeki’s (or tosh’s, if you will) art is clean and impeccable. Everyone looks great. Sometimes the sheer detail of the food depicted is overwhelming. But while the art tries to be naughty with characters’ reactions to eating Soma’s food, there’s barely any fanservice otherwise.

So what’s the manga about? Simply put, Shokugeki no Soma is a battle manga involving cooking. The protagonist, Soma, enrolls in a super-elite culinary high school where only a tiny amount of students graduate. He does this because he wants to surpass his chef father, who went off to work overseas.

There are manga with a myriad twists and turns, keeping the reader hooked and guessing on the plot. Shokugeki no Soma is not that kind of manga. It’s a manga where the outcome is clear from the start (Soma wins), but the execution will always catch you off-guard. Even if you know what’s coming, you are not prepared for it.

Even more welcome is the fact that Soma is basically an 80′s Shounen Lead. Soma is already ridiculously strong, and the thrill of the manga is putting him against impossible-sounding odds only to watch him crush the opposition. Soma’s positive, can-do attitude is also refreshing–he doesn’t rage or whine at the unfairness of the culinary school’s system, he tackles it head-on with complete confidence. That, and Soma possesses a surprising amount of intelligence and resourcefulness that makes him unlike any contemporary shounen lead I’ve read. He practically carries the entire manga on his own.

I think it’s a fun, simple manga that would serve as a worthwhile diversion every week. Check it out!

I guess the show finally found a good use for Ayase. And no, it’s not “resident yandere”.

Ayase, along with Manami, is one of the few characters in Oreimo who isn’t an otaku. While Manami treats the subject of otaku hobbies with a polite air of “they’re weird, but I guess it’s just not for me”, Ayase is outright disgusted at them. She’s the contrarian, the unbeliever in this show.

So who better than to model a 2D girl after?

Response to the second episode of Oreimo season 2 on Twitter was more than a little negative. People said that the show degenerated into Ayase fanservice, etc etc. I wonder if we’re watching the same show, or if no one else bothers to try and pick Oreimo apart by its layers. (HA HA HOW DARE YOU READ DEEPER INTO A SKEEVY INCEST CARTOON)

Consider the scene: Kyousuke invites Ayase into his room (!), in order to show him the game Kirino’s addicted to. He reveals that Kirino is fawning over a fictional girl (Ayaka) who resembles Ayase, and suggests that Ayase pretend to be Ayaka to win Kirino’s affection back. Then he orders Ayase to practice some affectionate lines (!!) on him.

It ends exactly as one might expect. But what’s happening here? Ayase still calls Kyousuke “onii-chan”. To her, he’s still that brother of her best friend. She can’t really get rid of him, not as long as Kirino’s her friend, and so she doesn’t storm out on the first sign of creepiness from him. (On an interesting tangent, Ayase calls Manami “onee-chan”. The implications are delicious.) But here they are, conspiring on Kirino, separated from the very person herself by a mere wall. Ayase blushing profusely as she recites Ayaka’s lines. Kyousuke touching Ayaka’s breasts and eliciting an embarrassed reaction. Subtext, what subtext?

What I appreciate here is the dialogue between the fan and the non-fan. Kyousuke, the fan, cannot talk objectively about Love Touch, having drunk its Kool-Aid. His attempts to describe the game to Ayase only serve to heighten her disgust towards him. They’re unable to find common ground. In real life, it’s an exasperating experience if you’re the fan, and this conversation is an eye-opener in portraying how the rabid fan sounds extremely silly to the non-fan.

Something to think about, when you’re discussing your niche tastes to others.

PS: I’ve always thought of Kyousuke and Ayase to be a weak pairing. Putting the two together in the same place tends to end in violence, and Kyousuke never seems to get a word in. But there are some points in  their favor: it’s clear that Ayase is the girl whom Kyousuke is most attracted to, and she’s probably the most date-able out of all the girls. They’d probably get along better if Kyousuke didn’t leave such a bad impression, though. Maybe it could work, dysfunctional as it sounds.

Labor: a robot specifically designed for construction work. Labors allow dramatic advances in construction, but also in crime. To combat these new Labor crimes, the police created a special unit: The Patrol Labor. And thus, the birth of the Patlabor.

What’s Patlabor?

It’s a multi-media franchise consisting of anime, manga, and games in the late 80s and early 90s. By far, the anime is the most visible and popular facet of it, spanning a couple of movies, OVAs, and a 47-episode TV series. It was conceived by a core group of creators called Headgear, composed of people like Mamoru Oshii and Yutaka Izubuchi.

It’s about the misadventures of a police Labor unit called the SV2 (Special Vehicle Section 2, Division 2). They tend to be surprisingly competent at their job, except for the odd city block they have to wreck to get it done. Depending on the show you’re watching, it’s a comedy, action, mystery, or a combination of all three. There’s a lot to love, and we’ll get to that.

Why should I watch Patlabor?

Do you know the real robot genre? Gundam? Macross? Heck, even Code Geass? Well, Patlabor is realer than those. In fact, it may be the most real real robot anime. It asks the question, “what if Japan had robots to boost its infrastructure development?” And, as all good science fiction settings go, it follows up with more questions: “What if a construction robot went amok? Who’s going to stop it, and how? What if they’re used for crimes?”

Consider this robot. It’s the AV-98 Ingram, a cutting-edge Patlabor. It looks great, having that heroic look to give a psychological edge over criminals. It’s got its own robot-sized electromagnetic baton, revolver, and even a shotgun.

It also gets smashed, beaten up, mutilated, abused, and tortured throughout its appearances. It’s better-made than most Labors, but it doesn’t have indestructible armor or outstanding firepower. The guns I mentioned don’t factor into fights very much because they often don’t have enough clearance to use them. The emphasis on rough hand-to-hand combat makes mecha action very visceral and brutal. If Gundam is about samurai fighting duels and cutting down lesser soldiers, then Patlabor is about drunken salarymen wrestling each other to the ground.

Another main strength of the Patlabor franchise lies in its characters. At the surface, they seem simple enough, but the writing injects a degree of nuance that makes them memorable. They just grow on you, these lovable rogues. Patlabor has strong, competent policewomen, who arguably kick ass more than the guys. They’re legitimately awesome and not STRONG FEMALE CHARACTERS, trust me on this.

Lastly, the production values of each Patlabor work are very high, and the movies look top-notch. The creative direction is strong–it feels like Headgear is in charge, not soulless toy company executives. Luminaries like Mamoru Oshii and Kenji Kawai have lent their considerable talents into the franchise. Even if you’re not into mecha, the first two movies are excellent films watchable on their own. The second film is my favorite Oshii film ever.

Sounds good, then. Where do I start?

Before I go on with watching order, you need to know that Patlabor has two separate timelines: the Movie timeline, consisting of the first OVA (Mobile Police Patlabor) and the movies. The other one is the TV timeline, consisting of the TV series and the second OVA (Mobile Police Patlabor: The New Files). Both are good, but the Movie timeline offers less time investment.

That said, start with the first OVA, which will introduce the cast and whet your appetite for the first two movies, which are excellent. WXIII, the third movie, is more of a sidestory, which makes it optional. I watched WXIII last and it’s no big loss if you don’t watch it, which I’ll explain later. The animation short that comes with it, though, isn’t. Whatever you do, watch MiniPato.

Now, if you watched them all and liked what you saw, then try out the TV series, and its succeeding OVA!

If you’re really short on time, then just watch the first two movies.

Now, for the show guide proper. I’ve indicated the anime where Kanuka Clancy appears, because I believe that it’s Very Important Data. Kanuka makes everything more awesome.

Mobile Police Patlabor

Animation studio: Studio DEEN
Episode count: 7
Kanuka Clancy presence: High

The first Patlabor anime. Solid introduction to the franchise. Is the source of this quote. Some of the episodes here are recycled into movie-length plots, though they’re mostly character-driven. It’s like a sample platter of sorts, having comedy, action, and mystery that the franchise is known for.

Studio DEEN has a bad reputation, but their work here is very solid. They used to be very good!

Patlabor: the Movie

Animation studio: Production I.G
Kanuka Clancy presence: COMBAT

This was actually the first Patlabor I watched. It’s surprisingly a good entry point into the franchise itself if you just want a good story with police robots. I figured things out fairly quickly and I didn’t have many questions about the characters that detracted from my enjoyment of the movie.

It’s basically an investigative tale with some visceral robot action. An mysterious virus is causing Labors to go berserk. Being an Oshii film, it has several Biblical references that are thankfully more endearing than annoying.

Also has the best Kanuka scene ever.

Patlabor 2: the Movie

Animation studio: Production I.G
Kanuka Clancy presence: None

Takes a few years after the first movie. Now this is a movie you shouldn’t go in without knowing a thing about Patlabor. It’s kind of a swan song to the series, as SV2 has split up by the beginning of the movie. The main characters are Gotoh and Shinobu, the captains of the Patlabor units. The tone is a lot more serious and Oshii tackles some political themes with astute clarity. It’s got a haunting mood and offers several scenes that are my favorite in the entire franchise. Whatever you do, definitely watch this.

WXIII: Patlabor the Movie 3

Animation studio: Madhouse
Kanuka Clancy presence: None

This is a sidestory. Gotoh and the SV2 appear, but the main characters are two detectives who were minor characters elsewhere. I was actually surprised that it wasn’t an Oshii film, but was directed by one Fumihiko Takayama. Nevertheless, it’s got Oshii’s ponderous style. It’s about a mysterious sea monster causing death and destruction around the Babylon Project. While it’s a solid film, it’s not really a Patlabor film, more like a film set in the Patlabor world.

Minipato

Animation studio: Production I.G
Kanuka Clancy presence: None

An anime short done in an experimental style. Humorous and self-aware. Just watch it!

Mobile Police Patlabor TV

Animation studio: Sunrise
Episode count: 47
Kanuka Clancy presence: Medium

Ah, the TV series. I love the TV series. It’s funny and endearing with lots of interesting mecha bits. Offers the most mecha in proportion to its content. The main plot is pretty nuanced because the main antagonist (Schaft Enterprises) doesn’t really want to kill the good guys, more like steal data from the Ingram so it could make better Labors.

It’s mostly episodic, though. Episodes range from Scooby-Doo mysteries (“There’s a monster in the sewer! Let’s check it out!”) to slice-of-life situations (“The SV2 gets defeated by its favorite Chinese takeout joint”) to character examinations (“Someone fell in love with Ota!”) to the really crazy ones (“What if Patlabor was a ‘normal’ mecha show?”). I have never been bored with a single episode of this show, because the writing is consistently great and the characters just grow with you.

Kanuka is in the show for the first half or so, and gets replaced by Takeo Kumagami, a TV timeline-only character. She’s cool, but she’s still no Kanuka.

Mobile Police Patlabor: The New Files

Animation studio: Studio DEEN
Episode count: 16
Kanuka Clancy presence: Medium

A continuation of the TV series. It provides closure to the Schaft plot, and has one of my favorite episodes in the franchise. As it picks up where the TV series left, Kumagami is in the SV2, but Kanuka appears to lend a bit of help against Schaft. It’s really just more of the same from the TV series, which is a good thing. You shouldn’t watch this without watching the TV first.

The ending is quite low-key and open-ended, concluding the TV timeline. Contrast with the second movie’s, which provides firm closure to its own timeline.

There are many things to write about Sasami-san@Ganbaranai. But I don’t have the mindset, the acumen, or the background to tackle the more salient parts of it, especially the Shintoist bits and stuff. You could read omo’s posts on it, though!

But to me, Sasami-san is unique in its way of hooking me in from start to finish every week. Even the ED. I skip through most EDs, because they’re not much–the OP is where the money usually goes–but not this one.

What’s the gimmick? So there’s a song, animation and all. The twist is that nobody sings, not normally, at least. Every instance of them has some characters talking to each other, about how the ED’s on and how someone ought to sing right now. And when they do, it’s awful as you and me during karaoke night.

It works, because the fourth wall-breaking feels like the characters have lives of their own, that they’re actors putting on a show for us. At the end of the episode, it’s funny to hear the characters bicker with each other, as if the on-screen rivalries and enmities were simple fiction. And singing badly on purpose is harder than it sounds, especially if you want to make it convincing.

Of course, the last episode has Sasami singing the ED nice and proper. By that time, she must have had a lot of practice already!

How about you? Have you encountered any shows with cute gimmicky EDs that you can’t help but watch?