Category Archives: anime

Hulu Says, “Watch Anime.” I Say, “Uhhh…”

Posted on by

For the first time in a long while I’ve been able to use Hulu, and naturally the first thing I do is go watch some cartoons. While watching anime on Hulu, I got an ad for…anime on Hulu. That’s nice, why not advertise your services? People might not know, and I assume that these ads aren’t just preaching to the choir and appear on other shows.

As I watched the 30-60 second ad (I don’t quite remember how long it was exactly), I came to an odd realization that the ad was not making me want to watch anime. If you haven’t seen it, it basically features various clips from anime titles on Hulu (Naruto, Soul Eater, School Rumble, etc.) to the tune of an instrumental version of the first Soul Eater opening. Something about it doesn’t sit right with me, and I think it has to do with how similar it is in spirit to ADV’s old anime advertisements which emphasize thie idea anime is action, giant robots, magical girls, comedy, straight from Japan, not kids’ stuff, etc. I even like a good amount of the shows used in the ad, but it’s like they took the most spastic and anime-ey scenes they could find and called it a day’s work.

I don’t have a solution to offer myself, for an advertising wizard I am not, but I can easily think of one example that I feel inspires people to watch anime. Back in the early-mid 2000s, Toonami would run ads for their shows, usually grouped together by a theme. They made anime feel grand and special in a way that wasn’t just drawing on kids’ desires to see something different (though obviously that was still a factor).

(It also doesn’t hurt that the narrator is Optimus Prime.)

The above video indeed feels like it’s promoting a lot of the things that the old ADV commercials and the Hulu one do, but so much more weight is given to themes that are explored through anime than to the flesh and spectacle of techno-oriental exoticism. If the Hulu ends up working out for Hulu and they get tons of new viewers, then more power to them, but I still think the ad could be something more substantial.

Mahjongs at Dawn

Posted on by

Friend, mahjong ally, and translator kransom is currently in Japan, and in a conversation online he mentioned to me the fact that Texas Hold ’em has a similar reputation in Japan that Japanese-style mahjong has in America. In other words, it has a small but devoted following where if you say to someone that you know how to play Texas Hold ’em, they’ll get really excited and invite you to play, possibly showing off their Real Authentic poker set in the process. Having a passing familiarity with Texas Hold’em and more of an understanding of mahjong, I can see why they would have a similar exotic and wild appeal. They’re both games where you have to manage your luck.

The only thing that’s missing for Japan is an Akagi equivalent, an intensely dramatic series that thrills you into loving poker. If such a thing could be produced in the US, then the circle would be complete.

Thinking about mahjong as a storytelling device however, I realize that there is an inherent “flaw” of sorts with the game that doesn’t quite exist in Texas Hold ’em, and that is mahjong’s inability to naturally come down to a one-on-one situation. That’s not to say that a 1v1 battle is impossible, but mahjong is inherently a four-player game, with a strange three-player variant if you’re one man short, but no long-standing rules for two players. As a result, mahjong stories have to go through great efforts to transform the game into a duel, whether it’s coming up with an entirely new (and untested) rule set (Ten, Shin Janki), pushing two of the players into supporting or even essentially non-existent roles, or modifying it into a 2v2 game. Texas Hold ’em however can start with a large group and as more and more players lose all of their money, the game can end up in a 1v1 with no wild changes made to the basic rules of the game.

So Texas Hold ’em has potential, though I think anyone who’s seen games knows that. Make it a series about female poker players who really enjoy each others’ company if you have to.

Speaking of, I realize that Saki prefers to have all four players in a mahjong game be their own characters, as opposed to lackeys for more prominent figures in the story, and is kind of an exception as a result. That route is, of course, also a good one.

Catching Hearts: A Response to Scamp’s Heartcatch Precure! Review

Posted on by

This post is in response to Scamp, aka The Cart Driver’s review of Heartcatch Precure! It goes way into spoilers, so be warned. If you want to read something significantly less spoiler-heavy, I suggest yesterday’s review.

Continue reading →

Wonderful Dreams of True Friendship: Heartcatch Precure!

Posted on by

There’s something special, really special, about Heartcatch Precure!, so much so that I think the best way to properly convey its brilliance is to take the long, scenic route to introducing it. It’s a show whose strengths can be subtle yet obvious, and I want to really give the show its proper due as a noticeably strong piece of fiction which utilizes nearly all of its elements intelligently and artistically without ever losing its sense of fun.

The premise is simple and familiar. A heroic figure, Cure Moonlight, suffers a traumatic defeat, and in desperation sends two young fairies to Earth to find two individuals capable of taking her place. The first girl is Hanasaki Tsubomi, a young girl and recent junior high transfer student who loves flowers. Tired of her meek personality, Tsubomi sees the move as an opportunity to turn her life around. The second girl is Kurumi Erika, an aspiring fashion designer who immediately sees Tsubomi as a friend, but whose eagerness and hyper disposition exasperate and overwhelm Tsubomi. Together, they become Cure Blossom and Cure Marine, fighting against an evil group whose goal is to transform the Earth into a wasteland by feeding off the fears and doubts of humans.

Pretty typical on its surface, Heartcatch Precure! manages to go above and beyond through not just its technical execution but what I would actually describe as “heart.” One of the most prominent aspects of the show for me is the mature and helpful manner in which it discusses a variety of serious topics that not only kids but even adults can grapple with in their daily lives, and this complexity tempered by graceful simplicity extends to all areas of the anime as well. In terms of visual design, the character designs are less stiff when compared to typical Precure designs (or even anime characters in general) without being overly esoteric, and the pastel colors and free-flowing line work breathe a sense of vibrancy into them. This in turn makes both the show’s action and non-action scenes stand out in a manner reminiscent of Casshern SINS (no surprise given that they share the same character designer), trading the dreary, post-apocalyptic world of that anime for one whose messages of hope and growth are more apparent. The narrative is also bolstered by the visual aesthetics, as they are able to support the strong characterization found in the show through their sheer energy, whether they’re laughing or crying or just walking about.

Right from the first episode, the characters are remarkably complex and their interactions dynamic and fun. Of particular note is Erika (pictured left), who I find to be an amazingly well-rounded character who complements Tsubomi well, and whose traits give her not only a lot of fundamental strength but also room to grow. While the Precure franchise has always been about the contrasting personalities of its main characters, Tsubomi and Erika are not so easily divided into opposing categories like “smart” vs. “athletic,” or “loud” vs. “quiet,” though they exhibit such differences to a certain degree. As the show progresses, rather than trying to make up for each others’ weaknesses, the girls learn from each other and deepen their friendship, and it’s a wonderful thing to see play out.

Going beyond the main two, the character Myoudouin Itsuki provides another interesting example. Itsuki, being the successor to her family’s martial arts dojo, crossdresses in order to represent her status as “next in line.” Unlike many other shows, however, Itsuki’s issue isn’t about whether she feels any bitterness towards having to act as a “man,” but whether or not the amount of responsibility and pressure she’s willingly put on herself is making her disregard her own feelings. This more thorough, yet still relatively simple, psychological exploration contributes to the show’s strong sense of characterization.

Perhaps the greatest strength of Heartcatch Precure! can be found in the way it shows that there is life beyond the immediate. Notable in this regard is the establishment of the character “Dark Precure” (the one who defeats Cure Moonlight at the start) as a powerful antagonist who completely outclasses the heroines and who continues to be a legitimate threat every time she appears. This is a rare feeling in previous Precure series, and part of the show’s draw simply has to do with seeing how the girls can manage to overcome this seemingly insurmountable obstacle, an adversary they are actually unsure of how to defeat.

By far the best representation of this broader perspective, however, comes from the fact that Heartcatch Precure! acknowledges the world past junior high. In every other Precure series, none of the main characters are ever older than 15. Once they hit the end of their third year in junior high(9th grade in the US and other countries), the show ends and nothing more is ever seen of them, and even when they appear in the crossover movies, they are always portrayed as still being in junior high. Heartcatch Precure! bucks that trend. Cure Moonlight is 17 years old. Tsubomi’s grandmother, who is in her late 60s, is actually a former Precure herself. These older figures not only guide the younger Cures through their experience, but also learn from the younger girls’ optimism and zest for life, making it less of a one-way street and more of a mutual growth which spans generations.

My fondness for Heartcatch Precure! is quite obvious at this point, but I do think there are areas where it falls short, and I feel that the best way to sum up my criticism is to compare it to Ojamajo Doremi, a similar magical girl show which actually shares much of the same staff. In that light, I find that the biggest flaw in Heartcatch Precure‘s is how “beating up the enemy” is too often the solution to a character’s problems, even in situations where fighting has little to do with the dilemma at hand. Granted, it’s certainly not the only show in the world to do this, but I know Heartcatch could have done better in this regard, especially given Doremi. In contrast, Doremi‘s most glaring problem, the blatant toy-pushing aspect of the show, is handled far more gracefully in Heartcatch Precure! Owing to the strong visual design of the show mentioned before, the transformation sequences and the special attack animations so typical of the magical girl genre almost never feel tiresome because of how lively they are.

Watch Heartcatch Precure! If you’re not that big a fan of magical girls, if you haven’t enjoyed the Precure franchise in the past, I think this is a really good place to start. It exceeded my expectations in almost every way, and it might do the same for yours. Just keep in mind to not expect too much to quickly and enjoy the show at its own pace.

Notes on Genshiken Volume 10 Extras

Posted on by

I recently received my copy of Volume 10 of Genshiken (aka Genshiken II Volume 1), and as anyone who’s read Genshiken in collected format knows, there are always little extras in between chapters. This time around it’s a combination of four-panel comics and profiles from the Genshiken club magazine Mebaetame, of which only one has been shown in-comic (Hato’s explicit one). The purpose of this post is just to jot down things I find interesting from those extras.

For the sake of convenience, here are all of my individual chapter reviews from Volume 10:

Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61

Ogiue’s Pen Name: Ever since it was first revealed, people had no idea how to actually say it. This time around though, Ogiue has given us a handy pronunciation guide, for which I am very grateful. So say it with me: OGINO NARUYUKI. Feels good, doesn’t it?

Majors: The coursework for the characters in Genshiken is something we’ve never learned much about, other than the fact that Kohsaka wasn’t in Computer Science but learned how to program anyway. Now though, we know that Ogiue is a 3rd-year Literature Major, Yajima is 1st-year Literature, and Hato is 1st-year Economics. The rest of them don’t bother mentioning it. I feel like knowing their majors gives some perspective on the whole thing in terms of seeing where the members are coming from, and it’s also interesting to compare to an American college anime club, where history and experience have taught me that a good chunk of them are indeed CS Majors.

Hometowns: For years we’ve known that Ogiue is from the Tohoku region of Japan, but nothing more specific than that. It turns out Ogiue is from Yamagata Prefecture, which of course means that she speaks specifically in the Yamagata dialect.

Yajima is from Tochigi Prefecture (Kanto) and Hato is from Niigata Prefecture (Hokuriku). Yoshitake doesn’t mention anything, and as we already know, Sue is from Massachusetts.

Yoshitake’s Ramblings: If you read my translation of Tamagomago’s post and got confused when he mentions Yoshitake talking about “oinking” (buhireru), it’s because it happens in Yoshitake’s profile, which is a long, long thing all about how she wants to see a manga or anime made out of a particular historical novel. This (and the huge word bubble in chapter 58) also makes it clear that Yoshitake is indeed a literary person.

Favorite Titles: Keep in mind that a lot of the titles are parodies of existing works. A lot of this is gotten with help from this site.

Ogiue: Haregan (Fullmetal Alchemist), Kujibiki Unbalance, Zenkoku no Kyojin (Shingeki no Kyojin [Advance of the Giants])

Yajima: Pakuman (Bakuman), Kintama (Gintama) , Ten Piece (One Piece), Menma (Naruto), Back-bared no Mago (Nurarihyon no Mago [Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan)

Hato: Duarara!! (Durarara!!), Rebuild of Evingelion, Hetalila (Hetalia), Winter Wars (Summer Wars), Fuyume Yuujinchou (Natsume Yuujinchou [Natsume’s Book of Friends]), Sweets Basket (Fruits Basket), Koi to Kyuuso (Unsure of even the pronunciation), Metro no Inu (Chikatetsu no Inu), Kaburagi-san to Rokuhara-kun (Hori-san to Miyamura-kun), Femto (Fate/Stay Night according to that site), Tsukutsukuboushi no Naku Koro ni (Higurashi no Naku Koro ni)

What we can see is that Yajima sticks mainly with Shounen Jump (or “Shounen Champ” as it’s called in-story) and also that Hato has very diverse tastes, but we knew that already.

Ogiue Likes Sasahara Just the Way He is: Just wanted to point out that in one comic, Ogiue thinks about how Ohno didn’t mention Sasahara among the “weirdos,” but that she likes his unassuming personality.

Ivory Jaws

Posted on by

Note: This post discusses spoilers for Tiger & Bunny, A Certain Magical Index, and Hajime no Ippo.

In episodes 12 and 13 of Tiger & Bunny, the heroes of Sternbild City fight the powerful villain Jake Martinez. His telepathy allows him to read an opponent’s intentions and avoid getting hit. Out of the four heroes who face him, Jake only ever gets hit twice: Once by accident when Wild Tiger trips over himself, and then a second time when Barnaby is able to land a clean hit, but Barnaby’s attack is enough to defeat him.

Broken rib or no, one hit doesn’t seem like it should be enough to take down such a strong adversary, but Tiger and Bunny does a good job of making it obvious that Jake’s weakness isn’t just a glass jaw, but a side effect of his powers. Jake is so adept at using his NEXT abilities to avoid any and all attacks that he is simply not used to being hit, and so making contact shocks him not just physically but psychologically as well. Even Wild Tiger’s inadvertent flip kick has little force behind it and yet still gives Jake pause.

When I saw this, I immediately thought of another villain: Accelerator from A Certain Magical Index. Like Jake, he is the mid-series villain, and like Jake, he possesses a power which prevents attacks from reaching him. In Accelerator’s case, he can control vectors, so any punch or bullet thrown has its direction diverted or even reversed with little effort. In the face of Index hero Kamijou Touma’s ability-canceling abilities however, Accelerator’s face meets Touma’s fist repeatedly. Like Jake, he can’t take a hit.

I think there’s something a little satisfying about villains whose weaknesses are something so simple and basic that anyone could avoid them if only they were familiar. With both Accelerator and Jake, they rely a little too much on their abilities, so when those are negated they do not have the natural reaction time to make up for it. In a way, these antagonists are portrayed as members of a kind of ability-based ivory tower, where their privileged statuses make them vulnerable to the rest of the world, even if it’s not immediately noticeable.

Interestingly, Hajime no Ippo shows the other side to this trope, though without any use of true villains. In the world title match between Date Eiji and undefeated champion Ricardo Martinez, Ricardo lands a severe blow on Eiji, which he’s 100% confident will take Eiji down for good. To his surprise however, Eiji manages to recover from that punch, which leads Ricardo to conclude that the only reason Eiji could’ve possibly taken that hit is that he must have fought someone whose punches are as hard if not harder than Ricardo’s own. This, of course, refers to Eiji’s fight with the main character Ippo, who is characterized by incredibly brutal punches. Had Eiji not gained the experience of taking hits from Ippo, had the impact not been engraved into his body, the sheer shock from being hit in a completely new way would have finished the match with Ricardo right there.

Which is to say, in a Martinez fight, Jake definitely wouldn’t want to get hit by Ricardo.

ME AM OPEN UP AMERICAN CLUB TO MASSES

Posted on by

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.

Kiddy Grade, Kiddy Girl-and, Memories of the Future

Posted on by

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.

The Past of Giant Robot Pilots, Today: Saejima of J-Decker

Posted on by

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.

Doctor Who Anime Fan-Trailer: Good Skills, But…

Posted on by

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.