There have been many, many American characters in anime and manga over the years, and in many cases they tend to use a very odd and unique form of Janglish, where Japanese and English are interspersed. One common way to convey that a character is American (or perhaps just American-esque) is to have them use English pronouns, e.g. “YOU wa baka desu!”
So you’d think they’d use “I” when referring to themselves, but there’s a long tradition of using “ME” (as in “me, myself, and I”) instead. Of course, I don’t quite understand why it’s used over “I.” So the thing I’d like to know is, when did this start? How far back in the history of anime and manga does it go? Is it even something that arose out of anime and manga? Perhaps it has something to do with how Americans spoke in post-war occupied Japan.
As far as anime and manga go, the oldest example I can think of with an American character who uses “Me” as one would normally use “I” is Getter Robo, which features American cowboy and robot pilot Jack King. Another popular American character is Terryman from Kinnikuman.
If anyone has more information about the history of American manga and anime characters, I’d like to hear all about it.
Also, In celebration of this most American of days, I’ve decided to open up the myanimelist club dedicated to American characters a little more, so that non-members can also post. I know I haven’t been able to keep up with requests and such over the past year either, so I’m also going to be opening up officer positions over the next few days so that the truly patriotic can make this club greater than it has been.
Recently, I was compelled to watch the Kiddy Grade opening, followed by the opening to its sequel, Kiddy Girl-and. For those of you who have never seen either show, I can best sum up the series as being a “girls with guns, maybe” show in a futuristic science fictional setting, and probably one of the shows that sticks out in people’s minds when you say “Studio Gonzo.”
Actually, the shows can probably best be summed up by watching the openings, which I invite you to do. Don’t worry about it, I’ll wait.
The original was fairly popular back in 2002, and seven years later out came its sequel, which I heard was not that well-received even by the typical diehard Japanese anime fan. Regardless of success or lack thereof however, when I watch those openings back to back, I can feel the flow of seven years of anime history, more than I can with other comparable methods. I can watch all of the Cutie Honey and Gegege no Kitarou openings and perceive the changes that have occurred over decades, but I can’t feel quite as much as with Kiddy Grade. I think the reason this difference exists in me is because this past decade was the time when I as an anime fan (and many others) could watch new shows within days or week of Japan, a dream at best for most people prior to the advent of the internet. I was there, man. It was intense (no it wasn’t).
But I don’t think it’s just the fact that I lived in this period that gives me the sensation of time flowing. It’s a definite factor, no doubt about it, but I think there’s also something different about the qualities of each opening, not just the fact that they feature different characters with different personalities, but also the way they introduce their content. Thus, though I’ve seen both shows either in part or in whole, I’m going to be thinking about them purely from what their openings have to stay about them (though I will be using their names for convenience’s sake).
The Kiddy Grade opening aims to give a sense of intrigue while introducing its main characters as two mysterious and attractive ladies. Eclair, the brown-haired one, is leggy and busty and is portrayed as the “muscle.” The “brains,” Lumiere, is decidedly younger in appearance, and seems to be taken from the same quiet, blue-haired mold as Evangelion‘s Ayanami Rei and Nadesico‘s Hoshino Ruri, though with significantly more smiling. Every scene has them contrasted with each other in some ways, whether it’s Eclair shooting a gun vs. Lumiere throwing a wine bottle, Eclair standing on one side with her lipstick whip with Lumiere and her “data trails” on the other, or the “kiss” scene, again, to create intrigue, sexual or otherwise.
The Kiddy Girl-and opening on the other hand is anything but mysterious in its presentation. It seems to want to convey an everyday sense of fun, and the two main girls are decidedly sillier in the intro compared to Eclair and Lumiere. They also are less different from one another compared to their Kiddy Grade counterparts, with Ascoeur (the pink-haired one) and Q-Feuille (the purple-haired one) having closer body types, though it’s clear that the former is bubblier than the latter. Rather than being presented as enigmas, Ascoeur and Q-Feuille are up-close. Personal, even.
Of course I can’t ignore the music itself either. Music isn’t my specialty, but I can tell you that Kiddy Girl-and‘s song is clearly sung by the voice actors of the heroines, whereas Kiddy Grade‘s with its mellow tones is not, and both songs lend themselves to the descriptions I gave. While having the seiyuu sing the opening was nothing new in anime even before 2002 (Slayers, Sakura Wars, to name a couple), I’d say that they’re supposed to be singing as the characters in the Kiddy Girl-and opening.
So then what are the big changes that this transition between openings represents? Well I don’t know if I’d call them “big” per se, but I feel that the Kiddy Grade opening exemplifies what was typical of its time, and the same goes for the Kiddy Girl-and opening. The much more “futuristic” vibe of the Kiddy Grade opening leads to the future-as-typical feel of its sequel’s intro, in a sense representing an increase in slice-of-life/”the everyday,” as well as a move away showing narrative-type elements as a prominent reason to watch. I wouldn’t go as far to say that this is an example of Azuma Hiroki-esque breakdown of the anime “Grand Narrative” though, as that’s a lot more complicated than just “less plot in anime.” Of course, there’s also the feeling that “moe” has changed as well, as I think that all four girls are supposed to be “moe” to certain extents, and seeing how their “moe” is conveyed in those openings is probably more indicative of that seven-year gap than anything else.
Neither of the shows are particularly amazing or special, and are probably best described as “the median” or “mediocre” anime, depending on how kind you want to be. However, that’s exactly why I think their contrast shows the path anime has taken so well, because while it’s great to see how the really pioneering, experimental, and enormously popular works operate, looking at the middle of the road gives a good idea of how anime as a whole moves.
Brave Police J-Decker features Transformers-style giant robots acting as Japanese police officers, so they combine into more powerful forms but also each have their own gigantic office desks. It’s a fun series in the Brave franchise, of which Gaogaigar is probably the most well-known and popular. Created in the 1990s, the show can be surprisingly good at times, and has some entertaining characters. Arguably the most entertaining one is the commissioner (or according to Wikipedia, the “superintendent general”), Saejima Juuzou. If you recognize him at all, it’s likely because of the following screenshot:
Saejima is established pretty early on as being a fan of grand poses and cool-sounding (and looking) robots, and at first I thought he was just a cool, eccentric old dude, but my opinion of him changed for the (even) better halfway through the show. In a recap episode, Saejima talks about every robot member of the Brave Police and their various strengths, as well as lamenting the fact that he just can’t come up with an awesome enough name for the next combined robot form. At the end of the episode, he reminisces about his younger days as a police officer. We then get to see the photos on his wall, and one of them in particulr reveals a lot about the kind of person Saejima was in his youth.
That’s right, Saejima was actually once a robot pilot, hailing from the previous generation (or two), back when the mecha were more primitive and hair was more fabulous. Knowing this, it’s clear to me that Saejima’s passion about robots isn’t just because he’s an old guy with a sense for the dramatic, but that it’s actually based on his own experiences fighting crime in his trusty police robot. I wouldn’t be surprised if, rather than the pleasant and heartful melodies of what were at the time more current opening themes, Saejima’s police career sounded more like this.
Though they never touch on it past this episode, I think it does a lot for J-Decker because it connects it to previous decades of robot anime, and on top of that gives a sense that the world of J-Decker has always been amazing in different yet similar ways. Hell, if they decided to make a prequel all about Young Saejima fighting crime, I would be all over it.
Translator Paul “Otaking” Johnson, probably most famous on the internet for his criticism of fansubbers (not the illegal part but that they draw too much attention to themselves) and his particular views on how anime should look (five-tone shading), recently released a finished preview of his Doctor Who anime treatment. Taking the iconic British science fiction hero and putting him in Japan, the whole thing lasts 12 minutes. While Johnson has since taken the Doctor Who video down, I still want to give my impression of it, and you can still find previous versions around.
I’ve been critical of Johnson in the past over his adherence to “five-tone shading.” There was never anything inherently wrong with the concept of “five-tone shading,” and my criticisms were primarily that there are a variety of ways for anime to look good, that budget inevitably plays a factor, and that if you disregard all shows that don’t use that shading style, you look down on not just current anime but also anime from before the 1980s. But it being a few years and all, I had to wonder what he’d learned since then.
Now I am not a fan of Doctor Who as much as I have never actually watched it, so I cannot judge this preview animation based on how well it captures the Doctor Who spirit. Anything I know about it is from reading the internet. I also understand that it’s more a proof of concept, not a trailer or anything that requires a storyline, so I won’t say anything about plot coherency. Having done a bit of animation in the past myself, I can tell that Johnson has talent and put a lot of work into this project.
But it still doesn’t look good, and while that doesn’t preclude an animation project from being all right overall, it is a problem for Johnson who prides himself on understanding what makes anime look good, especially because the preview is meant to be a visual showcase.
There are certainly elements of it which look impressive, bits and pieces that stand out and grab your attention, but taken as a whole, it is less than the sum of its parts. I do not mean that the characters sometimes look off or that the animation goes sour at times, because that sort of thing happens. The real issue stems not from a lack of technical skill or any minor flubs, but from an inherent flaw in Johnson’s aesthetic philosophy.
Five-tone shading is not the entirety of the problematic philosophy, but its effects are very clear in the work itself and so a good place to start. Again, there is nothing wrong with thinking five-tone animation looks better, but just about very single character and object in the animation has this in spades, to the point that it becomes overwhelming. Everything is so specifically made to have that elaborate shading scheme that it is difficult to look at. Characters are frequently as prominent as their surroundings, the foreground is often times difficult to differentiate from the background, and it just ends up as a garish mess. It’s just too much. There are plenty of anime out there which use that shading method, but they don’t overwork it into every single thing all the time to the degree that everyone and everything fights for your attention.
Another problem is that when you’re animating with five-tone shading constantly, it becomes difficult to maintain the shadows while in motion. One need only look at the original, pre-release animation from Super Street Fighter II Turbo: HD Remix to see this problem. They originally went for a similar shading style there, but it causes shadows to be inconsistent and to “pop” unnaturally unless a lot of care is taken. There are limitations to five-tone shading, among then simply time and manpower. When five-tone shading is used as an absolute rule, those limitations become even more apparent.
It’s not just shading which can create this problem, but also character design, which is why a show like Turn A Gundam has relatively simplistic ones. This is also another area where the Doctor Who anime preview runs into problems, because much like with the shading, the character designs have too many aesthetic bells and whistles as the result of a particular desire for 80s anime-level “intensity.” All of the characters look dated as a result.
I can potentially see why someone would think that I’m criticizing 80s/90s character designs as a whole for not being “new” enough, I should clarify my point. Everyone, with possibly the exception of the Doctor himself, looks like they were inspired by a 1980s version of a “How to Draw Anime” book in the sense that the characters all look like they were made with the idea that this is how anime characters are supposed to look, down to the hairstyles and the little details. This is most prominent with the character of “The Master,” whose eyes make him look like a 17 year old wearing a fake beard. Certainly there are actual anime out there which are also guilty of this, but it’s still something to be aware of.
I could touch on more aspects, but I’m not trying to nitpick little flaws as much as I’m using them as examples of how the basic approach to this project has problems. Again, the whole project is impressively made, but the overall flaw with Johnson’s animation style is that he sticks too closely to his beliefs about how anime “should” look. Because the aesthetic philosophy upon which that’s founded is underdeveloped and incomplete, it results in a work where certain elements, such as shading detail and particular character traits, have been rendered extensively but at the expense of fundamental aspects like visual clarity and not forcing characters into overt visual tropes just because that’s how things were done. There is nothing inherently wrong with the desire for elaborate visuals in everything, but it alone cannot act as a visual foundation.
Name: Agemaki, Wako (アゲマキワコ)
Alias: Minami no Miko (皆水の巫女) Relationship Status: Betrothed Origin: Star Driver: Kagayaki no Takuto
Information:
Agemaki Wako is a resident of Southern Cross Island, a landmass of many secrets, most notable of which is the fact that it houses mysterious mammoth weapons called Cybodies, robots which are so powerful that they have been sealed in the island, trapped in a distorted pocket of space-time. This “Zero Time” is maintained by the presence of four shrine maidens, of which Wako is one. Wako is the last maiden whose seal must be broken in order to free the Cybodies, and the only one whose identity is known to everyone on the island. Unfortunately for her, this makes her a target of the Kiraboshi Juujidan, an organization set on removing the Cybodies from Zero Time, but two of her best friends, Shindou Sugata and Tsunashi Takuto, also happen to have the power to stop them.
Wako is a high school student and member of Yakan Hikou, the school drama club , though the “drama” is more evident in her relationship with Sugata and Takuto, both fellow club members. Wako is betrothed to Sugata, but also feels a strong attraction to Takuto. And yet despite the love triangle and various other trials, their friendship remains strong. As long as Wako has her maiden’s seal, she is unable to leave the island.
Fujoshi Level:
While Wako feels torn between her feelings for Sugata and Takuto, that doesn’t stop her from imagining the two of them together. When given the opportunity, her imagination will drift towards conjuring up steamy scenarios for her two attractive male friends, and though she might deny it, everyone around her knows what she’s thinking.
What I’m about to write is pretty obvious to anyone who has seen the life-or-death gambling manga and anime Kaiji by Fukumoto Nobuyuki. That said, I still want to write about what I think makes its titular hero such a fascinating character. Maybe those who haven’t been exposed to Kaiji yet might find a reason to start.
Itou Kaiji can’t hold a job. He’s lazy and greedy and prefers to lash out at the world instead of doing anything to improve himself. He can be a nice guy, but it often comes back to bite him in the ass, making him extremely bitter. Kaiji is, in a word, flawed. But when push comes to shove, and shove comes to deadly knife fight, Kaiji begins to show his full potential. In a desperate situation, Kaiji is brilliant. His mind is sharp and focused, his ability to read others is top-notch, and his desire to survive exceeds all others around him. Amazingly however, this survival instinct does not take away his human compassion, and he is often seen helping the lost and downtrodden. Deep down (and I mean deep, deep, deep, deep, deep down) Itou Kaiji is a good man.
That’s fairly impressive, but I realize it doesn’t sound particularly special compared to any other similar character. What makes Kaiji special though is that not only is he at his very best in a life-or-death situation, but that he is only ever any good at all when his life is in peril. Most other characters like Kaiji will live a sad life, then fall into danger, and then come out of it stronger than before, now fully aware of their potential as a human being. Kaiji, however, shines brightly when backed into a corner, but as soon as he takes a few steps towards the exit, his star diminishes into near-absolute darkness. It’s somewhat of a classic trope to have someone who is only comfortable in a certain situation, the soldier who excels at war but is at a loss in peacetime, the wrestler who captures a devil shark but has to let it go because he has no other purpose in life but to pursue it. Kaiji is like this, but his “ideal” situation is when his life completely and unequivocally sucks ass. Put back into a comfortable position, Kaiji immediately starts wasting his life again.
Inevitably, Kaiji draws some comparison to the other great Fukumoto hero, Akagi Shigeru, who is in many ways his opposite. Whereas Kaiji is a perennial loser, Akagi is an unparalleled genius who is not only smarter than those around him, but can see deep into their psyches and pick them apart psychologically. Both often find themselves in seedy underworld settings, but Akagi almost never makes mistakes, while Kaiji is almost nothing but them. In this respect, they’re about as far apart as you can get, but one similarity is that they are both at their best when their lives are on the line and they risk dying meaninglessly. As Narutaki from the Reverse Thieves pointed out to me though, while Kaiji inevitably ends up in those scenarios, Akagi has to actively pursue them, because he is too intelligent and talented otherwise to fall into them. Kaiji will lose all of his money instantly and rack up a huge debt on top of that. Akagi will strike it rich and then purposely give away all of his money so that he can never rest on his laurels. In a way, I think if Akagi ever knew Kaiji, he would actually be kind of jealous, because Kaiji’s life naturally puts him at the gates of hell, while Akagi has to always find it.
Kaiji is awesome because of how he is capable of representing humanity at its best, but most of the time is an example of humanity at not its absolute worst, but not something you’d present as an exemplar of mankind. There is a flickering spark of inner strength and greatness in him, but it’s his sad fate that it is only truly visible when all other light has been snuffed out.
Cardcaptor Sakura is by far one of my favorite anime, and I am quite fond all of its characters, which includes its main heroine, Kinomoto Sakura. Back when I first watched the series though, one thing about her struck me as rather odd. In an early episode, Sakura decides to treat herself with some money she’s saved up. You begin to think, is she going to get a doll, or maybe some kind of dessert or candy? How about a nice dress? But no, Sakura’s gets pancakes. And not even pancakes at a restaurant or something, but pancake mix, and she actually gives away some of her pancakes.
I remember thinking, wow, Sakura, you sure have no idea what it means to indulge yourself.
But recently, I’ve been feeling a bit pressured by impending deadlines, and as I struggle a bit to get my work done, I sometimes think of treating myself. Do I go to a restaurant, maybe get a nice bowl of noodles? Or maybe take a trip out to another city, perhaps even another country? No, instead I say to myself, “I’m going to buy some ground beef!” which as you know is like pancake mix, only made of cows. Sometimes it’s chicken breast.
So there I am, thinking that a delightful reward for myself is food which takes time to prepare and even more time to cook, though thankfully I don’t have an older brother’s friend whom I have a crush on who’d be getting like half of my cheeseburgers.
Sorry, Sakura. I understand you a little better now.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past year, it’s that people can enjoy their entertainment for very different reasons, sometimes to the point that they might get offended if you call it “entertainment.” People have differing values outside of the media they consume, and even those who might view anime or manga for similar reasons can have incompatible preferences in the actual titles they prefer. Conversely, people can enjoy the same things for different reasons.
It sounds pretty simple, doesn’t it? Obvious, even. But the scope makes it difficult to wrap my head around entirely. The card makers over at Wizards of the Coast created basic personality profiles for people who play Magic: The Gathering (Timmy who plays for the experience, Johnny who plays to express himself, and Spike who plays to prove himself), but that doesn’t account for all of the people out there who don’t enjoy Magic: The Gathering for whatever reason. There’s differing perceptions of what it means for something to be “realistic,” and then disagreements as to whether or not realism is a good thing. Whenever someone says, “Stop being so critical and just enjoy what you’re watching,” there’s an implicit value judgment even when it’s meant to avoid such things; in this case, the value is about not having to sour a fun experience.
So basically, it’s pretty complicated and I could give endless examples of diametrically opposed ways of viewing art and entertainment if I wanted to.
Knowing this, I then ask myself, what should I do about it? Is there anything to do? I can’t say I have any right answers, but I’d like to talk about my current feelings on this matter.
I think that there is no one “correct” way to enjoy media. The person who loves world-building is as valid an audience member as the person who loves mechanical detail, as is the person who values character development, the person who wants to see in his media a desire to improve society or even the person who loves seeing hot girls. However, that doesn’t mean that one should not judge the media they consume or avoid looking at things critically, as the last thing I want is for people to feel it unnecessary to express their own values. I think everyone (including myself) should just keep in mind that because people watch anime, read books, play video games, etc. for what can be very different reasons, and so when people discuss these matters, they bring a lot of assumptions and preconceived notions with them. This can be all right, but without proper clarity it ends up being extremely difficult to talk with someone who has very different values in regards to entertainment, as if you had two people stranded on separate islands trying to communicate by shouting (and also the water is shark-infested so don’t even try swimming).
I guess what I’m hoping for is the acknowledgement that people can enjoy what they watch for their own reasons, but to prevent that from just meaning that any and all discussions regarding artistic worth (or whatever) just go out the window, and I think the key to this is being able to express why you like the things that you like.
OGIUE MANIAX 