14 episodes in, and Patlabor TV continues to show excellent writing. Action, comedy, mystery or even drama, it can do them all, sometimes in just one episode.

In episode 3, Noa is quickly initiated to the strange preoccupations of her team. Since their HQ is in a desolate place (a 45-minute round trip to the nearest convenience store!), they are forced to be self-sufficient on food. As Asuma puts it, Division 2’s daily struggle is for food and territory, like stray dogs. Instant noodles and the like are easily stored, but how about proper nutrition? Hiromi grows tomatoes, and there are 20 or so hens which lay the occasional egg or two, but they turn to Tokyo Bay for most of their protein.

Say what again? Yes, they fish. A long line of mechanics and policemen, fishing long into the sunset. When that’s not enough, the mechanics bring in their patrol speedboat for offshore fishing. Asuma’s not lying when he proudly proclaims that food is their passion.

But today, trouble strikes and the boat is run aground! It’s up to Division 2 and their Labors to save them. It’s not an easy task, since Ota screws up (despite having over 250 hours of Labor experience) and gets his Ingram stuck as well. To make matters worse, chief mechanic Sakaki is returning to HQ, and he’ll throw everyone into the sea if he ever gets wind of what happened!

What comes up is a well-coordinated plan to delay the old man until Noa finishes her retrieval. The normally indolent Division 2 goes out of its way to conduct breathalyzer tests in strategic roads, forcing Sakaki to take time-consuming detours. Noa goes on with her task, and is saved by Kanuka from falling as well. Sakaki gets back and notices nothing out of the ordinary.

Or really? He puts the drop of water to his tongue and discovers its saltiness. Hiding in every nook and cranny, everyone looks on with bated breath.

Oh, what the hell, Sakaki thinks bemusedly, and leaves it at that. Then a mobilization order comes up! Alas, it’s the end of the episode, but if Division 2 can pull off something as brilliant as this, they’d have no problem with anything that comes up.

Say what you will about their behavioral problems, but these guys are dedicated to their job. They’ve managed to adapt to harsh conditions, survive boredom 24/7, and make the most out of limited resources. Can anyone  match their willpower?

Note: The following post was supposed to have seen the light of day last Saturday, but tragedy struck and I lost my internets until Tuesday.

And before I knew it, this blog’s a year old.

Two or three years ago, I never thought I would be blogging about anime. I’ve maintained a personal blog for a couple of years, but interest blogging is an entirely different ballgame. The operative word here is interest–once that candle goes out, there’s no helping you.

However, I had been reading anime blogs on an intermittent basis. Most of them were stray links from forums/imageboards that I frequent, and I still remember some of them, like Shin’s Kyonko entries or the more serious and enlightening Riuva articles. I started an episodic blog months later, but I found writing episode summaries a chore (to those who do, how do you guys keep at it?).

I returned to foruming. I kept being active on AMC, and evolved from a person whom wah once called an idiot to someone wah is indifferent about (great success). I started on checking out the blogs of fellow AMC denizens (mainly digitalboy, omo and TheBigN/dm). None of these people blogged episodically, at least not using the conventional formula of screencaps + summary + commentary. I realized that I could do editorials or series reviews instead!

So I wanted to start an anime blog again. However, my first problem was what to write. Sure, I’m an inveterate mecha fan, but I can’t post entries like “The 10 Weirdest Gundam Weapons” or “Moustache > V-Fin” all the time. I was in luck, then, when a timely /m/ thread talked about anime blogs that /m/en read. The first that came up for reading was We Remember Love, which had the Voltes V entry up on its front page back then. Gold, I thought. While a fan of robots to the core, here’s a man who doesn’t limit himself to them. I decided to make my posting topics more diverse.

And so I started out. I quickly got readers after the first few posts, which was a pleasant surprise. It pressed me to keep on writing, but I soon realized that this wasn’t the way to go. I’m not a blogger who sits down to write a post on regular intervals, as my first attempt at an anime blog proved. I also want to blog about a show that’s less talked about–my aim is to get people to check out these relatively obscure shows. That’s one focus I’m gunning for, and while it keeps me from getting many hits, the awesome comments are worth the damn trouble.

Thanks to this mindset of taking it easy, I’ve never experienced burnout. Based on my past mistakes, I’ve learned that I should blog for fun, and not give myself hard deadlines or excuses to write. I still haven’t perfected my style as I envision it to be, but I don’t have to rush it.

Anime blogging has been a largely rewarding experience. Writing about this passion of mine is cathartic, and kept me from being clinically depressed during bad times. This is my idea of giving back to the community, so to speak. You also get to meet a lot of friends, too, online and offline.

So what’s next? I can see myself experimenting more with new topics, and writing more personal posts on anime I’ve loved (one recent example would be Planetes). As for the robot side of things, I’m slowly, slowly getting into VOTOMS, accompanied by Gasaraki. Maybe next year, I’d have my own domain! I just need to, um, find new work. /o\

PS: I’ve put a proper About page a couple of months ago, which is, as you might have guessed, way overdue.

Don’t you hate it when an anime introduces a person/item/ability in the story that proves to be astounding, and then a few episodes (or seasons) later that same thing is rendered commonplace?

I refuse to accept the fact that a funny-looking knife (which should turn out to be a man or I’ll eat my hat) is around the same level as our lovely Aria. And how did these girls of dubious repute acquire such powerful weapons? It boggles the mind.

But episode 6 has been the best yet. Cecily’s fight is long and while she does get beat in the end (surprise), she managed to hold out for so long in a 1v3 battle. Charlotte is one adorable loli, and Luke’s asshattery does something funny for once.

And it has the best eyecatch to date:

I’m still willing to stick with this show until the end. It’s not great, and I wouldn’t even recommend it to friends. But it’s an easy and entertaining watch as long as you chalk up the stupid bits to LOLANIME. Because if I raged about super-powered katana, BREASTplates, and claymores being named Claymore all the time, then I wouldn’t be writing this.

Not your typical waifu post here. Take nothing away from appealing 2D women of all looks, personalities and ages, but I can’t turn a good mech down.

Hard mode: No Gundams. I’ve done a separate post on them anyway!

RahXephon

RahXephon is the most beautiful mech I’ve ever seen. It has this awe-inspiring gait that makes the slow battles of the anime majestic to watch. The head wings and all too-human face make it clear that RahXephon isn’t just a piloted mech–it’s an extension of its wielder. A fitting homage to Raideen with sleeker proportions and less gaudy colors. And true to its inspiration, RahXephon’s voice is its most dangerous weapon.

Vic Viper

[Source]

Not the Gradius one, but the Zone of the Enders 2 incarnation. In terms of mecha power levels/tiers, a LEV is to Orbital Frame as Zaku is to Gundam. Yet Leo manages to hold his own with far superior mechs using his mad skillz as the hero of the previous game. That’s what I call fighting the power. If anything, it is damned fast and sexy.

Giant Robo (OVA)

Aside from beauty, I also admire power. And the OVA design of Giant Robo is packed with it. Every part of its body got bulkier from the original, human-proportioned version, but the overall product still evokes balance. The rivets are also a great retro touch. Giant Robo is one of the few mechs that look menacing regardless of any stance, and its stare strikes fear into the hearts of men. Gotta love that pharaoh motif!

Tallgeese

[Source]

I’m not very fond of Gundam Wing, but it gave me the Tallgeese, which has a badass backstory. Based his engagements with the Gundams, you’d never imagine that Zechs was piloting the oldest mobile suit in the show. It’s so old that it got rescued from a museum, and so extreme that no pilot could handle it. Until Zechs, that is. Father of the Leo, the Tallgeese is one venerable mofo. Look at that crest!

Gespenst Mk-II

The Gespenst Mk-II is the most recognizable original mech out of Super Robot Wars, and it deserves that honor. This workhorse has been piloted by virtually everyone out there, and is still being used in the OGverse, albeit with massive refits to help it keep up with newer machines. It’s a reliable mech that can equip a large array of weaponry, and much more durable than the paper-thin Lion. A Real by origin, but Super-tuned variants exist with the Gespenst Kick. Who needs beam sabers when you have a Jet Magnum or two?

Kapool

[Source]

When I first saw the Kapool, I didn’t know it had appeared in Gundam ZZ as the indigo-colored but otherwise identical Capule. But the Kapool did not suck, and lasted throughout Turn-A Gundam with nary a blown-off limb. One could attribute this to its pilots being of little threat to the enemy, but I still subscribe to the belief that these little ones were too cute for anyone to have considered shooting them. It can turn into a ball, for starters.

Not to mention it has the strongest pilot. <3

Shin Getter-1

I love red. Shin Getter-1 embodies this love, and it invokes a retro feel despite being conceived in the 90’s. Stoner Sunshine is my favorite screamed attack of all time, and those devilish wings combined with the strong shoulders make for an impressive silhouette. It also has the nifty little feature of turning its pilots into sketchy lines whenever it does the Shin Shine Spark.

Nirvash typeZERO

Nirvash has the best eyes out of any mech. It tells you a lot just by looking at them, that Nirvash is no mere machine. Nirvash can be classified as a character itself in the show, being able to move on its own and perform astounding feats that no other LFO can replicate. The boomerang weapon offers a unique way to mop up a horde of enemies, and it flies in style.

So how about you? Do you have your own hangar? Share eet~

Cencoroll is a nifty little specimen. It’s got the indie feel working for it, with most of the work done by a certain Atsuya Uki. It’s still impressive, though. My eye for animation has leveled up in years, and the monster scenes are very smooth and clean. I guess it’s easier to animate transforming blobs with eyes than people? It knocks a bit on the E7/Xam’d monster aesthetic too.

Totally dig the colors used for the explosions here.

There’s one thing that stands out, too: much of the interaction between Tetsu, Yuki and even antagonist Shuu is awkward. Short, snappy answers are the norm, and nothing really gets revealed about the monsters and electric ahoges. Some people might not like this, but I find it fits for the context of the show, since it’s a rather uncanny, lifelike portrayal of high schoolers who just met each other. Being cranky and uncooperative works perfectly for Tetsu’s annoyed personality, while Yuki is merely a normal girl with abnormally high affinity for blobby things. It’s not like they’ve been seeing each other for years!

Quick-thinking AND intrepid. Beware.

Isn’t it refreshing to watch an anime that doesn’t feature characters with warped, extreme personalities? And Yuki is sweet, in her own unsaccharine way.

[Sauce]

I have two Top 5 lists in my head, both of which have entirely different criteria. Can you spot them on your own?

The first:

1. Turn A Gundam
2. Legend of the Galactic Heroes
3. Giant Robo
4. RahXephon
5. Tekkaman Blade

The second:

1. Eureka Seven
2. Planetes
3. Gundam X
4. Honey & Clover
5. Seirei no Moribito

The first list shows the kind of stories I love and aspire to write someday(!): intense character dynamics, sprawling worlds of wonder, epic battles on foot and machines, and heartrending rivalries. The second is a list of the most human anime for me. These are the shows that get me through the day and keep me from turning into a misanthropic shithead just by thinking about them. I know it’s a weird criteria, but this list is the main driver for me to watch more anime.

My MAL favorites would be a hybrid of these two lists, based on raw liking alone (#1 is #1 purely because I like it more than #2, and so on).

What do you think?

Related reading:

• Stripey starts the ball rolling [->]
• Author pimps and puts out his own [->]
• omo has some real fun [->]
• D-boy and his ORE NO RUURU [->]
• ghostlightning writes about guilt, with a lot of meaty comments [->]

The past few days of Internet-free existence have been largely alleviated by a good amount of backlogged anime. I finished the OVA and TV specials of Macross 7 (which I chalk up to careless neglect rather than disinterest), and watched Zambot 3 with my brother. Oh, and Cross Game–I’ve got said brother and another friend hooked on it, the latter being ahead by 10 episodes by now.

So, on to the post.

Zambot 3 is one pioneering anime which successfully proved that mature drama could exist and flourish in the medium. Despite being a super robot show, it tells a grim story with tragic scenes that put it on par with Zeta or Victory Gundam.

If you’re still doubting me, the villain’s name is Killer the Butcher.

Aside from that, it has…

Child Soldiers

Kappei Jin is a young kid, and the show’s main character. He starts off as a whiny ass, like the I-don’t-want-to-combine-with-you-losers type of ass. However, by the middle of the show he stops whining and becomes a dependable person. By the end, you will feel sorry for him. A proto-Kamille, in my opinion. He’s joined by his cousins, Uchuta and Keiko.

The funny thing is that even though Kappei all but falls into the robot cockpit, he’s shown to be completely adept to its controls even with limited supervision.

This is because…

Sleep learning. Fear it.

An Awesome Dog

Misunderstood Heroes

For a good part of the show, the citizens of Japan blame the Jin family and Zambot 3 for bringing the Gaizok invasion over their heads. They think that the Gaizok would simply go away if the Jin family left the planet. While this sounds like stupid mob mentality, you couldn’t blame them for making a scapegoat, as the Gaizok are really merciless killers who will torch the Earth to the ground, regardless of the Jin family’s presence. What a radical departure from your average 70’s robot show, where everyone treats the robot as their inviolable savior. Instead, Zambot 3 has people throwing stones at Kappei instead of letting him help them.

Regardless of this, our heroes admirably fight on. It soon becomes clear that the Gaizok are unambiguously antagonistic towards humanity, and everyone finally acknowledges the Jin family’s heroic actions.

Human Bombs(?!)

You can never talk about Zambot 3 without mentioning human bombs. It is by far the most traumatic element in the story, and is ingenious to boot. What Butcher does is use time-honored human values like charity against humans themselves, thus creating widespread panic. When the Jin family discovers about the Gaizok plan to manifacture human bombs and release them to the public, everyone is horrified beyond words.

Episode 17 has to be one of the most depressing anime episodes in my book, as it vividly portrays the hopelessness suffered by those who have been turned into human bombs, which is irreversible. There is no blood or guts being spewed around by human bomb explosions, but the cartoonish animation actually works to provide maximum unease to the viewer. Chilling.

Conclusion

Despite being mostly grim, Zambot 3 offers a positive message, too. In the ending (this is a  relatively minor spoiler, so you can read it without ruining the show, but I’ve made it highlight-only just in case!), the final villain tries to spoil Kappei’s victory by asking him if protecting the Earth was worth all the trouble, which nobody asked him to do in the first place, and in which nobody will thank him anyway. However, as Kappei lands on the Earth’s surface, he finds his friends waiting for him, with many more people rushing in from everywhere to thank him for being their savior. Capped by the beautiful ED song, it’s a perfect end to such a series.

So, how would I compare Zambot 3 to other Kill-’Em-All Tomino works? While it does not have the complexity of Zeta Gundam or Ideon, it is rawer, and a super robot show with supposedly cheerful aesthetics but with a grim, harrowing story make a dangerous one-two punch.

If you’re a fan of Tomino, I highly recommend watching Zambot 3, as it is definitely a landmark of its time. Don’t let the subpar-animation get to you–this show has definitely milked its animation budget for more than what it’s worth, and has some touching music that’s put to great use. At only 23 episodes, it is a short watch compared to its peers, and is definitely worth it.

Perhaps my favorite scene in Toshokan Sensou is the Chief Librarian Practical Exam in episode 9, in which our three junior librarians are tasked to read books to kids. Each of them take their own tack, which reveals something about themselves.

Shibasaki

We already know she’s good at this, but it is a treat to see Shibasaki weave her magic. Using her malleable voice, she holds the children’s attention in thrall along with effective use of ambience. Mad skillz from Miyuki Sawashiro.

Shibasaki is a master of control, both direct and indirect. She can emasculate you directly with words, or manipulate you into a situation where you unwittingly perform her bidding. Either way, she calls the shots. I hope she becomes Commander someday–the Media Betterment Committee would never stand a chance, ohohoho~

Tezuka

Tezuka is the most unsure of the three, but he performs extremely well despite this handicap. His approach is highly personal; he  brings himself to his audience’s height, trying to see things in their perspective. In doing this, he in turn allows the children to lose themselves in his story, and takes all of their questions seriously.

Tezuka’s style is one I love, because with it I could feel that I am in the story, and this kind of immersion is one I value. A story could be nothing fancy, but if it becomes my story, then I’d cherish it more than a brilliant, yet distant account of unrelatable characters. Also, contrasting with Shibasaki’s approach, Tezuka assumes a more familial demeanor to the children, like he’s reading bedtime stories as a father.

One could criticize Tezuka to be a plain man, but he takes his job seriously,  little misgivings aside. And in this difficult test, he seeks empathy, and gains respect.

Kasahara

Unlike the other two, Kasahara doesn’t tell a story, but teaches something with an educational book. She uses some well-made props to get the kids to genuinely participate.

Kasahara definitely knows what makes kids tick. Instead of force-feeding information down their throats, she turns learning into a fun experience, which is something that most teachers can’t even do! How many students would have loved math if it was taught using relevant real-life applications? Or pretty drawings?

I’m genuinely surprised, along with the rest of the cast. Kasahara might be a clumsy girl, but she’s great with kids. In the words of the great Jeffrey Wilder, she’d make a good wife. <3

Conclusion

I love these scenes as they reveal character in an entertaining manner, and provide a nice breather from the drama and action that pervades the show. It’s also refreshing to see Kasahara excel at something, for a change!

Armor Hunter Mellowlink, being a man vs mecha show, depicts frequent instances of Armored Troopers (ATs) being taken out in a myriad of ways. Only in this show can you see a mech blow up after losing its footing while skidding along the ground at high speed, or get defeated by a truck.

It really happened.

I wonder if this is Ryousuke Takahashi’s way of reminding us of his no-nonsense “real robot”-ism. ATs are closer to tanks than standard anime mechs, the former infinitely more prone to being blown up. I haven’t seen past episode 3 of VOTOMS, but if Mellowlink’s representation of these roundheads are taken for consistency, then kaboom, there you go.

But don’t get the idea that these mechs are merely jobbing to our muscled, BFG-toting hero. ATs massacre people by all rights, but Mellowlink Arity wins against them–not by mere virtue of being the good guy, but because he plans a couple of steps ahead, improvises with whatever resources he has at hand, uses the terrain to his advantage, and creates his own luck.

With all these advantages, those overconfident pilots are soundly pwned, so to speak. However, in one climactic fight (possibly the best in the show), Mellowlink is pitted against the equally-skilled (if not better) Major Boil, who is a real ace on and off ATs. Mellowlink manages to struggle, yet ultimately make Boil’s movements look lumbering and clumsy, given that they’re fighting inside a castle. Takahashi showcases us the tricks of an AT in moving on difficult terrain (foot hooks for moving along steep slopes, and the standard grappling hook), but they can never cancel out Mellowlink’s innate size and maneuverability.

You are fucked

All in all, a fun watch. If there’s anything Mellowlink teaches us, it’s that bipedal mechs are still beatable, provided you have wits, Polymer Ringer Solution wine, and a keen understanding of your enemy. We’ll never get a sidestory of Master Asia kicking the Devil Army around, but Armor Hunter Mellowlink is the next best thing.

One favorite Planetes plot thread of mine is Yuri’s search and eventual disposal of his dead wife’s keepsake, a compass that which she wore around her neck for good luck. It went missing along with his wife’s body, and night after night Yuri checks the debris catalogs of every other debris collector out there to hunt for it.

I look up to Yuri as a very mature man, though a bit too aloof in contrast to the loudmouths of Debris Section. He’s hardworking, uncomplaining and kind to animals (!), so I’d imagine that he could get any job that he wanted. And yet he’s working in Debris Section: underequipped, understaffed, underpaid.

Maybe it’s a burning curiosity to discover what his wife etched in the inside of that compass. Or coming to terms with how he survived the shuttle accident and how his wife did not.

At any rate, Yuri gets the compass. But in truth, he is none the happier. “Please save Yuri”, the inscription inside the compass’s lid says. It almost killed him, yet it did fulfill its purpose.

After that nearly-fatal mission, Hachi remarks that Yuri is distant to them, exactly because there are some things he doesn’t want his teammates to know. Because throughout those 6 years, Yuri became all but an empty shell, a spectre so consumed with the task of retrieving his wife’s compass that he signed up as a debris collector. I’d never have guessed.

Yuri wanted the compass back to remember, not to forget. He abandons a white carnation to space, which means “my love still endures” in the language of flowers. But as long as he carries the compass with him, he would be unable to fully let go.

After Fee wrecks Toy Box to foil a terrorist plot, Yuri goes on a vacation to Earth along with Tanabe and Hachi. An unprecedented event, according to Myers, as our good Russian astronaut slaved for so long, looking for his wife’s compass. And now, he’s found it!

He meets Hachi’s rocket otaku brother Kyutaro, who accidentally breaks his compass with one of his stray rockets. It was broken to start with, but now the inside is crumpled that you can’t read the inscription anymore. As the boy runs up to apologize, Yuri admits that he planned to quit his job after retrieving his wife’s keepsake, but he realizes that life isn’t made up of clear-cut borders like that.

Borders, again! But in this case, the border is a psychological one. We tend to give ourselves reasons for doing everything. And after those reasons expire, we experience a crisis–continue what we’ve been doing up until now, for its own sake? Or stop, since its rationale has already since become null and void?

In the end, Yuri finally lets go of the compass, choosing his profession over it. And what a way to dispose of it! He lets Kyutaro strap it into his latest rocket’s nose cone and launches it right up to the sky as Yuri leaves the Earth. He knows in his heart that he can’t quit that easily, despite having fulfilled his “mission”.

For all intents and purposes, Yuri could have stopped living right there and then, but instead he continues to haul debris. Because that, too, is his method of living. Because that, too, is how he copes up.

I love this subplot because it’s realistic. Finding the compass didn’t magically solve all of Yuri’s problems. He had to lose it once more to be free of the void his wife’s death left him, and even that didn’t turn him into a genki man. People–especially adults–have a kind of inertia to them that keeps them from changing too much. Yuri might still be the standoffish guy of Debris Section, but one whose future is clearer, even for a little bit.