EUREKA IS BACK: Eureka Seven Hi-Evolution Preview

When news came out that a new Eureka Seven movie trilogy was coming out, I reacted with a mix of excitement and trepidation. After all, the TV series is one of my favorite anime ever, but things haven’t exactly been pretty for E7 fans the last few times around. The first film to come out, Eureka Seven: Good Night, Sleep TIght, Young Lovers, was more an interesting experiment in how different a story you could tell with existing footage than anything else. Eureka Seven AO squandered so much of its potential and was so convoluted that it ended up a major disappointment. However, there’s a big X-Factor that gives me some initial confidence in these new Psalms of Planets Eureka Seven: Hi-Evolution Films—the return of writer Sato Dai to the team.

Sato was not on staff for Good Night, Sleep Tight, Young Lovers, and he left Eureka Seven AO early on, and it’s suspected to be for creative differences (AO was basically funded by a pachinko company). While an anime is more than just one person, the lack of Sato and what it meant for those productions stood out in those two works like a sore thumb. If you’ve seen what Sato is capable of in anime outside of Eureka Seven, such as the excellent Battle Spirits: Shounen Toppa Bashin, narrative cohesiveness resulting from excellent emotional character development is a hallmark of his writing style. Having Sato at the helm is the best sign that Hi-Evolution will live up to the Eureka Seven name.

The first new film, out in 2017, is going to be a prequel that covers the First Summer of Love, the pivotal event that defines the world of Eureka Seven. The other two films, in 2018 and 2019, promise to bring a new ending… perhaps even going beyond the events of the TV series? I can only hope.

One thing that piques my curiosity about this new project is the preview image showing Eureka, Anemone, and Renton. In it, Eureka and Renton have more concerned expressions, while Anemone’s is soft and loving. While Anemone ends up in a happy place by the end of the Eureka Seven TV series, I would have assumed that their faces would almost be the opposite. The fact that it’s showing Anemone with such a look implies to me that something will be different about her; not necessarily a different personality or anything, but maybe a new perspective on her life. I’ve known plenty of fans who considered Eureka Seven to be the “Anemone Show,” so maybe their day has come.

In any case, I’m willing to put my trust on the line for Eureka Seven: Hi-Evolution. I won’t let cynicism beat me just yet!

10 Robots that Deserve to Be Soul of Chogokin Figures (Part 1)

I love giant robots, and I love seeing them turned into Soul of Chogokin figures. Here’s the first five of 10 that I think should get that Chogokin Tamashii treatment!

Keijo!!!!!!!! + Gaogaigar

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Astute fans of giant robots might have noticed a reference to a certain lion-chested titan in the final episode of Keijo!!!!!!!! For those who didn’t know about the connection, I’ve written a post on Apartment 507.

The Transformation of Time from Manga to Anime

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How much does time pass when the mighty Star Platinum punches an enemy Stand in JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure? There are many factors to consider, such as how much time has passed in the show itself, as well as how time is being manipulated within the series’ universe itself. Another important element is the fact that the anime is an adaptation of a manga, where the flow of time is abstracted by manga’s existence as a 2-D paper medium.

As far back as Tetsuwan Atom, adaptations of manga have been a common mode of anime production. Manga act as a spring of new stories to present, and the jump from the comic book format to animation opens up many opportunities. An anime can try to forget its own path through interpretation or divergence from the manga (such as both the Ghost in the Shell films and Stand Alone Complex), or they can faithfully attempt to recreate what exists in the original. However, while the latter cases might often appear to be “direct transplants” of the manga to the screen, the act of having to take a physical and spatial image such as a panel and assign to it a finite amount of time can greatly change the impact of a given scene in spite of the desire for faithfulness to the source material.

In a general sense, having to time dramatic beats for an anime often requires playing around with the contents of the manga. For example, in an episode of Dragon Ball Z, filler sequences (such as the infamous minutes-long powering up spots) not only save budget, but can also be a way to make sure the episode ends on a cliffhanger. On a broader multi-episode scale, Initial D: Fourth Stage does something similar by reversing the order of the final two opponents. Originally, the manga has protagonist Takumi race against a man known as “God Hand,” while his teammate Keisuke races against “God Foot” afterward. In order to make sure the series ends with a climactic battle for its hero, the show has God Foot go first instead.

One consequence of this is that there can be moments when a series feels as if it’s dragging. Sometimes it’s successfully padded out or rearranged so that nothing feels particularly off, but in other instances it is possible to sense an uneven rhythm or pacing.

This notion also extends to the transform of panels into time. Consider that there is generally no specific amount of time that is said to pass in a given panel in manga, or indeed comics in general. What makes a panel feel “fast” or “slow” is partially about how long one’s eyes linger on a panel, and it’s dependent on the amount of content there and the flow of the page. But because time exists differently in manga, things that seemingly pass quickly on the page take much longer on the screen.

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A common example of this would be the frantic explanations of special moves in an action or sports series. Because we tend to read more quickly than we speak, it is possible to believe that an elaborate speech or thought is being made within the span of a ball being passed from one player to the next. However, commit that to concrete time in an anime, and suddenly you begin to wonder why no one is doing anything as they talk for 30 seconds. To appreciate those moments, it requires a viewer to understand that time portrayed is not literal. This is the case even with series not adapted from anime. It does not “really” take Voltes V two or three minutes to combine together, or for Erika to become Cure Marine.

So when what is a single, snappy panel in manga gets stretched out into an extended scene in an anime, it can dramatically effect how a person can feel about a particular title. I find this to especially be the case with comedy series. Take Azumanga Daioh, a four-panel series. In the manga, there will be a comedic moment that lasts for only one or two panels, such as Sakaki rolling on the floor while holding a wild Iriomote cat. In the anime, this becomes a full-on extended display of non-stop rolling with musical accompaniment. A small moment becomes a big one thanks to time. A more recent title would be Nichijou, where the staccato presentation of the manga’s gags are the equivalent of sharp, quick jabs. In anime form, however, the characters’ movements are exquisitely animated and exaggerated, and the result is a series that is in a way much more physical and almost “luscious” in a sense. While the Nichijou anime pretty much takes things directly from the manga, the two turn out to be pretty different experiences.

My belief is that the unusual handling of the (broadly speaking) space-to-time transition of manga to anime is a likely culprit of why someone might love a manga but hate its anime (or vice versa!) even if the adaptation process is largely faithful. It’s kind of like when an actor is cast in a movie based on a book; what was once a nebulous image reliant upon visual/mental interpretation becomes a little more solid and finite.

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The Wacky (Not Wacky) World of Macross Delta: Ogiue Maniax on the Veef Show Podcast

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I recently made another appearance on the Veef Show to talk about Macross Delta. There, we discuss the ups and downs of the show, and I learn about fan reception to the series, as well as the illicit dealings of the owners of Robotech. Join us!

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Kiznaiver vs. M3: The Dark Metal – Review and Comparison

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Human communication and the overt expression of emotion/trauma: when it comes to anime writer Okada Mari, many of her works explore these two thmes. Just this past spring, two of her shows—Kiznaiver and The Lost Village—did so in spades, but I found myself comparing the former to another, lesser-known title of Okada’s, titled M3: The Dark Metal.

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In a previous discussion of M3: The Dark Metal as a guest on the Veef Show podcast, I mentioned that the show felt like two conflicting forces were at work, the more down-to-earth directorial style of Satou Jun’ichi clashing with the high melodrama of Okada. The ultimate message of M3: The Dark Metal is that being able to see straight into people’s minds won’t necessarily solve problems of communication (and might even create new ones), and that we as people should do our best to connect with each other using the tools and senses we have already. It thus provides a counterargument to a notion most famously found in Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Kiznaiver takes a similar angle, forcibly connecting its characters through a bond of pain; when one gets hurt, it gets evenly distributed to the rest of them. Ostensibly a way to help people learn to empathize, the story reveals that it ironically did the opposite in early cases. Like M3: The Dark Metal, the characters realize that they need to learn to communicate as they are, though in the case of Kiznaiver the bonding mechanism ultimately helps more than hurts. Another similarity exists between the characters Heita (M3) and Hisomu (Kiznaiver), the sadisme of the former contrastng with the masochism of the latter.

The big difference between the two series is visual flair. M3 is plainly animated, and takes place in a world of monsters and giant robots. Most of it is dark and brooding. Kiznaiver is bright and colorful, and filled to the brim with the dynamic facial expressions, sleek character designs, and overall frenetic aesthetic of Studio Trigger. In this respect, Kiznaiver does a much better job of meshing with Okada’s writing style, though I do hope to see her try and write another giant robot anime.

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The Key to Victory in Macross Delta

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In recent episodes of Macross Delta, it is revealed that the Song-based attack of planet Windermere affects “Delta Waves” found in living beings.

That means there is only one valiant figure who can save the galaxy, one who was transported into the future through what might appear to be a freak accident but we know is actually by design.

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Philip J. Fry was born with a unique gift. As a result of being his own grandfather, Fry is the only living being that does not emit Delta Brainwaves. If Delta Brainwaves and Delta Waves are the same thing, that means that Fry would be as immune to the Song of the Wind as he is the attacks of the Brainspawn.

Save us, Fry. The galaxy needs you.