Evil Doppelgängers in Anime and Manga (or Lack Thereof)

The evil doppelgänger is a classic trope of fiction. I’m drawn to simple stories in this space, ones that revel in what makes these counterparts nefarious, and how this inevitably leads to cool battles where the original and the double are evenly matched. Oddly, though, I find that this trope isn’t terribly common in anime and manga.

While TVTropes is not the be-all end-all of how to understand fiction, it’s notable that the anime and manga sections for “Evil Doppelgänger” and “Mirror Universe” are barely populated. The Evil Knockoff has more entries, though they are typically not long-term characters. Goku Black is one such knockoff, as he‘s more of an imposter in the vein of the Fake Ultraman and the Fake Kamen Rider, as explained by Toriyama Akira himself. The Precure franchise has seen a number of examples, but they usually last for only a little while—a standalone movie (Yes! Pretty Cure 5, see image above), a couple episodes (Smile Precure), and only rarely as a recurring villain (Dark Precure in Heartcatch Precure!) Often, if they have any enduring popularity, it’s because their designs have an inherent appeal as the “bad versions.”

Contrast that with superhero stories where the trope is downright ubiquitous. For example, the Crime Syndicate from DC Comics has taken various forms, but they all amount to the same thing: crime-committing counterparts to the Justice League, who come from an alternate universe, and whose differences with the heroes range from interesting to hilarious. The original incarnation of the evil Superman—known as Ultraman—gained new superpowers whenever exposed to kryptonite. Owlman is Batman except his origins usually involve being a relative of Bruce Wayne who had to kill someone in cold blood. When I think about how different creators can interpret what it means to be the mirror version of an existing character, it makes me appreciate their imaginations. Sometimes, it’s Spock with a goatee, or the way Nega Duck prefers scheming and explosives to theatrics and Gas Guns.

I think the difference might have to do with the fact that superhero comics have historically been some combination of “goes on forever” + “willing to bring back villains who will come and go.” Even in the longest-running anime and manga that would potentially have evil clones in the first place, they usually don’t go beyond a single arc. I have to wonder if such characters might be less appealing to creators and consumers of anime and manga alike because they’re not working off the succinct characterizations that have classically defined superheroes. 

Or even if the heroes do have “dark opposites,” they’re usually characters unto themselves, like how Gaara parallels Naruto by having a similar yet more cruel past, or how Shigaraki in My Hero Academia is like the evil version of a superhero nerd to contrast with Deku. The fact that literal superhero-themed anime and manga don’t feature such characters feels significant. Why is there no One Kick Man or Lion and Hare?

Instead, where the doppelgängers seem to thrive is in the world of video games, to the point that trying to count them is pointless. Whether it’s Dark Link in the Zelda, Dark Harrier in Space Harrier 2, or Dark Samus in Metroid, the notion of having to fight an opponent with all your skills provides a nice thematic challenge—especially in the endgame. Perhaps their lack of story is a bit more forgiving there because the primary focus isn’t narrative but gameplay.

Naturally, it’s not like a story needs evil doppelgangers to be good or fun. That said, what I find interesting is that for all the diversity of tropes and stories that manga and anime contain, somehow this is the one that isn’t so common. In the meantime, I can appreciate where such villains show up.

The Roles of “Characters” in Mecha Anime

Sometimes, you’ll see a wild claim about mecha anime, like “Gurren-Lagann was the first giant robot series to be about characters instead of the robots,” and it inevitably results in a backlash—in this case, the counterargument that all giant robot shows are about characters. Whether the initial statement is made in jest or as a genuinely ignorant take by someone with only surface-level knowledge of mecha, it reflects certain assumptions about what the genre is like.

I got to thinking about the notion that giant robot anime are about characters because it’s both true and an oversimplification. Moreover, the extent to which the giant robots truly “matter,” as in they’re inexorable from the world being portrayed and can’t be substituted with some other form of weaponry, varies tremendously. But regardless of the true “necessity” of either characters or robots, I feel there is more to it than just one side mattering more than the other. Then a thought occurred to me, and I have a kind of nascent “universal theory of giant robot anime”:

Giant robot anime are about characters, but more specifically, the main character reflects some vital or fundamental aspect of the world and story around them. The giant robot, in turn, is reflective of the connection between the hero and that aspect.

If it seems nebulous, that’s because it is. I’m thinking less about trying to justify every mecha anime and more about how the giant robots end up being the avatar through which so many of these protagonists interact with their environment and their histories, and thus reveal more about the anime themselves. There’s also no denying the close ties between giant robots and merchandising, but this also ebbs and flows over the decades.

So let’s start with some of the big ones. 

Tetsujin 28 is about Shoutarou trying to make a difference in a post-WWII environment by being a boy detective who fights crime. Tetsujin 28 the robot was created to fight the Allies, but is now being used for an alternate purpose: as a guardian of peace instead of a weapon of war. 

Mazinger Z draws a direct lineage to this sort of thinking. While the power fantasy and toyetic appeal of the robot itself is undeniable, Kouji is presented with a question about human potential from the very beginning: If you had great power, would you be a god or a devil? The robot Mazinger Z is Kouji’s way of making a difference, and he chooses to use it as a protective guardian.

Mobile Suit Gundam, the first “real robot” anime that emphasized the robots as weapons of war over superhero-like entities, is about its hero Amuro’s repeated exposure to the trauma of war. It’s through the Gundam that he experiences physical and emotional scars alike, and the very fact that his piloting experience molds him into a capable soldier also contributes to the overall “horror of war” message that girders Gundam and its many sequels.

Superdimensional Fortress Macross has three main components: romance, music, and robot battles. Here, the titular robot is literally a flying city traveling through space, and it functions as both an urban cosmopolitan center and a massive superweapon. In other words, it is the very space in which all three pieces of Macross take place.

Neon Genesis Evangelion centers around Shinji and his fear of human connection, be it with his family, his peers, his friends, or anyone else. It is the anime of extreme introspection. Not only is the EVA-01 the means by which he tries (and fails) to find self-worth, but the EVA itself is revealed to house the soul of his dead mother. He is contained in a womb-like structure inside of his giant mom.

Tengen Toppa Gurren-Lagann is about Simon and the limitless potential of humanity to overcome all obstacles slowly but surely—and ultimately whether there should be limits on that power. Gurren-Lagann manifests this through numerous transformations fueled by human spirit that bring on exponential power growth.

The above examples are all heavy hitters, but what I also want to emphasize is that this applies to “lesser” titles as well.

Brave Police J-Decker is maybe the most on-the-nose example of the relationship between a boy and his giant robot, as the story is about how Yuuta’s friendship with the giant police robot Deckard is what teaches the latter to develop true emotions and a proper sense of justice and humanity. 

Shinkon Gattai Godannar is about the relationship between Gou and Anna as husband and wife and how their love affects both their personal and professional lives as co-pilots. Godannar Twin Drive is literally a combination of both robots.

Robotics;Notes focuses on Kaito and his relationship with Akiho’s giant robot club, and the blurring of augmented reality with actual reality. The creation of the Guntsuku-1 is basically an untenable goal that, through the events of the series, becomes effectively “real” through how Kaito and Akiho view and utilize it.

Trider G7 is about Watta, who’s both a little kid and the CEO of his own company, utilizing both the image of Japanese corporate culture of the early 1980s and the classic child desire of wanting to do what the adults do. The Trider G7 robot literally flies out of a playground, and has tons of cool and wacky weapons, but the fact that it’s Watta’s robot and the main way he gets his job done means it’s the conduit through which that “grown-up” fantasy takes place. 

Shinkansen Henkei Robo Shinkalion the Animation is literally a commercial for bullet train toys that are, in turn, advertising for the Shinkansen trains in Japan. Its main character, Hayato, is basically a Shinkansen fanatic who sees them as not only the coolest things ever but as reflecting a philosophy of unwavering service to the people of Japan. The Shinkalion robots, by extension, portray a more action-packed version of this concept.

Giant robot anime embody many values, from crass commercialism to dreams of being brave and strong, from anti-war sentiments to deep looks inward at the psychological scars of society. The mecha themselves are often not “characters” in and of themselves (with a number of notable exceptions), but they are symbolic of how the protagonists of these stories relate to what they experience. The hurdle for those who think that these anime are “more about robots” is that this particular way of communicating the characters’ stories requires an acceptance of giant robots as a storytelling device.

Ogiue Maniax at Anime Central 2023

This is just a short post to say that I will be attending my very first Anime Central this May 19–21! Motivated by my wish to see Kubo “Koizumi Hanayo” Yurika, I have decided to dip my toes into the Chicago area.

I am doing zero panels, and will be attending them instead. I’ll also be trying to conduct interviews with guests. I hope to have a good time regardless—and I plan to make that happen even if the con doesn’t go as planned by scarfing down many hot dogs and Italian beef sandwiches.

To all those attending, stay safe! COVID is definitely still a thing, and I encourage everyone to wear good-quality masks. You will most likely not see me without one.

Oshi no Ko vs. Getter Robo: A Hot-Blooded Killer Combo

Sometimes it takes a meme to put a giant robot anime in the minds of the people. Hot on the heels of “Is this a pigeon?” comes the Perfect and Ultimate Getter mashup. 

For those who don’t quite get the joke, this is a mashup of the anime opening themes for 2023’s [Oshi no Ko] and 2000’s Shin Getter Robo vs. Neo Getter Robo. The two songs, “IDOL” and “STORM,” share a similar build-up during their respective choruses that makes one transition into the other almost seamlessly, with only a tweek to the tempo being necessary.

As a fan of both (the latter of which I watched during my formative years as an otaku), it makes me happy to see these two shows and their respective theme songs getting love. More than that, it made me think about a few things. 

First, I’m actually kind of surprised that so many people have a fondness for Shin vs. Neo. I know Getter Robo is just part of the bedrock of anime and the mecha genre, but I had always assumed Shin vs. Neo was just known in the little corner of the fandom I had occupied. Glad to see people have a sense of nostalgia for it, though that does make me feel old.

Second, if this is how newer anime fans discover Shin vs. Neo, then so be it. I hope they enjoy seeing a shirtless man beat a dinosaur soldier into submission, in addition to all the robot action. At the very least, the fact that this joke incorporates more footage of the anime means it’s able to show itself off better than Fighbird and the aforementioned pigeon meme.

Third, it’s a bittersweet reminder that one of the singers of “STORM,” Mizuki Ichiro, passed away earlier this year. IAs one of the elder statesmen of anime music, he might have very well leaned into this, and we might have legitimately gotten a cover of this. At the very least, Kageyama Hironobu and the rest of JAM Project are all around, and they are definitely game to perform memes (see their cover of “Okkusenman.”)

I think what I ultimately really like about Getter no Ko is that it showcases both series well. Their original content doesn’t get lost in layers of obfuscation, and I hope anime fans are able to experience and appreciate both.

If You Love ’em, You’ll Let ’em Go: Eureka Seven Hi-Evolution Full Review

Eureka Seven is an anime I love to death. Nearly two decades later, I still hold it up this TV series as one of the best ever. The sequels and spin-offs, however, have not been as hot. A film (Eureka Seven: Good Night, Sleep Tight, Young Lovers) basically reused footage from the TV series to tell a wildly different story where the characters look the same but are different people. A sequel TV series (Eureka Seven AO) damaged the story and visited gratuitous amounts of tragedy on the original heroes. And most recently, we have Eureka Seven Hi-Evolution, a trilogy that is similar to both previous continuations while embodying neither the best nor the worst of the franchise as a whole. 

Hi-Evolution consists of three films each focusing on a different major character: Renton, Anemone, and Eureka. However, much like Good Night, Sleep Tight, Young Lovers, they‘re seemingly not the same people as in the TV series. Whether it’s having different parents or literally being from another world, details great and small are out of alignment. Hi-Evolution also follows the pattern of intersplicing old footage with new, but again with drastic changes in context that make it unrelated. 

Or is it? Another aspect of the Hi-Evolution films is that they might actually be sequels to the original TV series, as well as possibly everything else in a sort of Turn A Gundam sense. It could be a unifying sequel, or a reboot, or an alternate universe, but it’s not very clear because so many things are so unlike what has come before. Or maybe it is obvious and I refuse to accept the possibility that this might be “canon” as it were. 

Hi-Evolution as a sequel would be saying something along the lines of “this is the real story you couldn’t see,” and my response is “eh.” As a remix or an alternate track, however, it has more legs. It contains solid narratives regarding relationships between parents and children and between people in general, the way humankind struggles with thinking of everything as a zero-sum game, and a look into dreams and possibilities. The issue is that I’m not sure why it had to be in the guise of Eureka Seven. I actually think if it had been conceived as an original project, it would be a lot less shaky overall, and wouldn’t invite such comparison.

I worry that the director and staff on Eureka Seven might be too attached to the aesthetics of the franchise, and it holds them back from being able to do more. As much as I adore that first anime, it might be an anchor dragging everyone down. Better to free everyone and let them soar with new ideas.

You May Dream: Ogiue Maniax Status Update for May 2023

I find myself in a constant state of worry that I’m not doing enough with anime and manga. It’s not like I’m avoiding it entirely, but I think my very focused consumption of it has receded slightly both in an attempt to do things I’ve never tried before and to make up for time lost in other categories.

There’s an entire Breath of the Wild sequel coming out this month, and I’ve only just gotten the glider in the first game! I want to build my language skills in Japanese as well as in others. I worry about being the person chasing two rabbits, but at the same time am perpetually unable to pursue just one without regretting losing the other.

In the meantime, shout-outs to my Patreon subscribers, including a new supporter among the Sue Hopkins fans.

General:

Ko Ransom

Diogo Prado

Alex

Dsy

Sue Hopkins fans:

Serxeid

Philippe Nguyen

Hato Kenjirou fans:

Elizabeth

Yajima Mirei fans:

Machi-Kurada

Blog highlights from April:

Inugami Korone, Taira Isao, and My Fandom History

I seriously did not expect the singer of Braiger and Ideon to show up.

The Safe Yandere

For when you want the taste but not the full buffet.

Randori Acts of Friendship: “Ippon” Again!

You might have missed this delightful judo anime.

Kio Shimoku

Kio made something that the kids would call yabai.

Apartment 507

Looking back on the end of Love Live! School Idol Festival.

Closing

I’m actually going to Anime Central this month for the first time! I’m hoping to get to see Kubo Yurika (aka the voice of Hanayo).

And you probably have heard about this, but the Writers Guild of America has gone on strike to protest unfair wages from streaming and the threat of companies potentially trying to use AI to hamstring writers. Funnily enough, the last time a writers strike started was on November 5, 2007—the same month as the birth of Ogiue Maniax.

I wonder if we’ll get any Dragonball Evolutions out of this.

Mecha, Isekai, and the Changing Image of Anime

A while ago, a thought popped into my head: isekai is the mecha of the past decade and change. 

The comparison is not perfect by any means, but what I see in isekai today is a position in Japanese pop culture that’s not so different from where giant robots were in the 1980s. Namely, they have their roots in power fantasies, rely heavily on visual and conceptual tropes around that power, and are pretty niche genres that are ubiquitous enough to be considered mainstream nevertheless. In other words, where giant robots were assumed to be part and parcel with anime as a whole, being transported or reincarnated to another (extremely game-like) world is now the de facto stereotype for many fans of anime.

Another important similarity is that derivative titles have had to find a place in their respective media landscapes, navigating the desire to be different enough to stand out while looking comfortably familiar enough to appeal to genre fans. Only, instead of it being God Mars and Armored Trooper VOTOMS, and Aura Battle Dunbine (itself an earlier incarnation of isekai) nudging the envelope, it’s The Hero is Overpowered But Overly Cautious, So I’m a Spider, So What?, and My Next Life as a Villainess. Also, of course, there’s Knights & Magic, the modern isekai that is also a mecha series and even starred in Super Robot Wars 30.

And like mecha, I expect isekai will have a downswing at some point, as people and cultures change. In that future, what I’m looking forward to is having people who are fans of isekai not so much as a way to live vicariously through these stories but in the sense of academic and anthropological fascination. Just as mecha fans like myself like to explore the history of giant robots, warts and all, I want to see enthusiasts looking at every obscure and major 2010s-2020s isekai title out of genuine curiosity over the genre as a whole.

As a final aside, I’ve been thinking about the legacy of Amuro Ray’s character and its influence on anime protagonists as an “otaku” before the term was even coined. Perhaps that’ll be for another post.

The Safe Yandere

I’ve been thinking about what I call “safe yandere,” or alternately “yandere aesthetic.”

Yandere character fetish feeds off many things. The notion of a character who’s so in love with another that she turns into a crazed axe murderer (and that this is a good thing!) is at the same time obvious and complex. It’s a realm of fantasy that, in my estimation, works by essentially being so hyper exaggerated as to feel real—like how food for astronauts is made extra spicy because the sense of taste is dulled in space.


Because yandere characters come primarily from media like anime, manga, and visual novels, there are many visual shortcuts to convey that quality. The thousand-yard stare, the creepy smile, the icons of sadism, and so on make portraying a yandere in a single drawing perfectly possible. What this also means is that this aesthetic can be extracted and placed onto characters who aren’t necessarily trying to trap their significant others in cement so that they can be together forever.

The first example that stands out to me is Jabami Yumeko in Kakegurui. She has all the visual hallmarks of a yandere, except she directs that primal energy towards the art of gambling instead of a person. She doesn’t take pleasure in hurting others so much as she does mutually experiencing the torrent of emotions that stir when everything is on the line. 

Another is the teasing girl. They’re not exactly yandere—more like a midway point between that and tsundere—but they can serve a somewhat similar function. Nagatoro might be the most well known at this point, and her sneers evoke a kind of pain/pleasure combo that aligns with the general yandere for vibe. 

The last example actually comes from the world of VTubers. The Hololive zombie girl Kureijii Ollie has a visual presentation that is very reminiscent of yandere, especially in the eyes, but her personality is far from it. I suspect that this contrast is part of her charm, though, and a reason she’s so popular. Incidentally, another Hololive member, Ceres Fauna is sort of the opposite: Her appearance is gentle but her words and demeanor can get yandere, especially in ASMR streams.

I don’t think separating out the visual component of yandere is a bad thing—far from it, in fact. It gives people the opportunity to assess themselves and what they enjoy, allowing for greater personal discovery. It also reminds me a bit of what has happened to the concept of vampires. Some people just want a specific sub-flavor of hotness, and that is okay.

I don’t know if we’ll reach a point where the definition of yandere has fundamentally changed and it goes towards the safe yandere. I doubt it, given the continued popularity of characters like Toga Himiko from My Hero Academia. But like so many things, I’d rather people be able to remember that this transformation has occurred rather than wholly adhere to some specific definition. History is important, even that of the yandere.

(And technically, all fictional yandere are safe precisely because they remain in the realm of fiction. Though that does mean VTubers can blur that line…)

Inugami Korone, Taira Isao, and My Fandom History

As a Virtual Youtuber, Inugami Korone has always been known to march to the beat of her own drum. From doing flips and cartwheels during the biggest Hololive events to squealing with glee over a fishing game getting ported to the Switch, you never quite know what to expect from her. Even knowing this, however, nothing could have prepared me for one of the special guests at her 4th Anniversary Concert: mecha anime singer Taira Isao.

I both saw and heard Taira as he came in on the second verse of the Galaxy Gale Braiger opening, and my jaw dropped. In a world where a cameo by a VTuber from a rival company is a big deal in itself (something Korone also included), to have such an established name and fan favorite is a boss move like practically no other. And on top of that, I would have expected at most to see him on the screen behind Korone, but there he was, standing next to her and sounding as amazing as ever.

Taira is not necessarily the biggest name among musicians of giant robot anime, but the songs he has under his belt occupy a sweet spot: somewhat obscure, beloved by hardcore fans, and actually incredible tunes. Other songs he’s performed are the openings to Trider G7, Daiohja, and Ideon, the last of which he also sang with Korone. In fact, Taira first became aware of Korone specifically because she sang “Fukkatsu no Ideon” during her 2022 birthday concert. 

A number of significant names in anime and game music have collaborated with Hololive, but Taira is perhaps the most personally significant thus far. Owing to my love of giant robots and my more recent interests in VTubers, I maintain an unorganized Youtube playlist called the rather self-explanatory “Virtual Youtubers Singing Giant Robot Anime Songs.” 

But my fondness for the singers of Taira’s generation has been with me for 20 years. Back in the mid-2000s before Youtube even was a thing, I was enthusiastically discovering and discussing video clips of live performances of musicians like Mizuki Ichiro, Kageyama Hironobu, and indeed Taira Isao. Through these concert videos, I bonded with friends online; in fact, this is how I first came to know my fellow mecha enthusiast and mahjong partner-in-crime, Dave, before we ever met offline. To see Taira show up with Korone, still snazzily dressed and still looking incredibly good for his age, feels like a culmination of various bits and pieces of my own history as an anime fan.

Even now, I find myself re-watching the 4th Anniversary performances of Braiger and Ideon music, and it actually reminds me of how I felt whenever a really good character trailer happened in Smash Ultimate. I’d watch the reveals over and over again to relive the excitement of the initial reveals, and to just remind myself that they’re real. It makes sense when you think about Tairas’ performance with Korone being a similar kind of hype crossover. 

How will Korone top herself next time? I’m looking forward to seeing what less-traveled road she takes. 

Trigun Stampede, Cowboy Bebop, and Scrapbook Worlds

When Studio Orange announced that they were making Trigun Stampede, I was pleasantly surprised. Trigun is a title that a lot of anime and manga fans around the turn of the 21st century cut their teeth on—I myself remember seeing it thanks to my school’s anime club. However, aside from a singular film in the form of 2010’s Trigun: Badlands Rumble, it hasn’t gotten much love, and it also isn’t as enduring in the general fandom consciousness as Cowboy Bebop. To be fair to both, they’re only vaguely similar, but they did come out around the same time and were anime convention staples together for years.

But here was a new Trigun TV series, and what’s more, it was clear that Trigun Stampede was going for an updated aesthetic. Anyone who’s familiar with the manga or anime remembers the iconic look of hero Vash the Stampede in his signature red trench coat and ultra-spiky hair—and both have been significantly altered for this remake. As I watched it, one thing became clear: While a lot of elements are similar to the 1990s anime, the story had been rearranged in noticeable ways. Where the previous iteration has a 50/50 balance of slapstick comedy via larger-than-life personalities and twist-filled science-fiction drama, Stampede is a lot more focused on telling a serious story. That said, I didn’t mind the changes, and was able to take all the changes in stride and appreciate them on their own terms. 

But as I was going over how I feel about Stampede, a thought occurred to me. Why is it that I was able to easily accept a different Trigun, yet the very idea of a new anime remake of Cowboy Bebop feels wrong? I’m not even someone who reveres Cowboy Bebop as a sacred cow, though I think it’s excellent in many ways. (I know there’s the live-action Cowboy Bebop, but I consider adaptations like that their own separate topic regardless of quality, so I‘m setting that aside.)

What I think the difference comes down to is just the way each series generally approaches storytelling. Cowboy Bebop is like a finely tuned machine, intricate and delicately balanced to give a very specific experience. Removing even one or two gears can throw the entire thing off, and overhauling it entirely feels pointless. Trigun, on the other hand, comes across as more of a scrapbook. Narratives can still be formed, but the strengths of the individual elements are more important, and they can be rearranged in different ways.

This brings to mind an old favorite topic of mine: the contrast between “character” and kyaraas written about by manga scholar Ito Go. Essentially, character is how a figure exists within their greater story, whereas kyara is how much of their identity can be maintained if divorced from their original context. I think neither Cowboy Bebop nor Trigun are severely lacking in either category, but the former has a relatively stronger  emphasis on character, while the latter focuses more on kyara

It’s why Trigun Stampede can be this more somber experience wholly lacking in things like a wacky black cat who makes cameos and meows a lot, yet still identifiably be Trigun. In fact, this new series can often feel like Trigun leaning in the direction of Cowboy Bebop without thoughtlessly aping it. So even though there’s a sequel to Stampede on the way that will actually incorporate more of the 1990s Trigun look, the new groundwork laid out makes me look forward to seeing both how similar and how different things get. And despite the fact that the franchise has its origins in the 1990s, I can’t help but wonder if the pacifist nature of Vash might actually resonate harder among fans today.