We Are Iron Men

Japanese and American comics have been cross-pollinating for a few years now, and it becomes easy to forget that once upon a time the two creative worlds lived in relative isolation. It’s all the more impressive, then, when common themes occur from stories which are decades old. One such example is the comparison between one Tony Stark and one Kaneda Shoutarou, two characters who are associated with the term “Iron Man.”

Tony Stark, hero of the Marvel Comic and recent film “Iron Man,” is a weapons manufacturer who dons a suit of armor to protect the world when he is made to realize that he can do far more good preventing war than being responsible for it. Kaneda Shoutarou, hero of Tetsujin 28 (Iron Man 28, aka Gigantor) is a boy who fights crime with the help of a remote-controlled metal giant, a remnant of Japan’s desire to defeat America in World War II created by his very own father prior to his death. Both characters are faced with artifacts of war, and both characters choose to re-invent their tools of destruction to try and achieve peace.

It’s not surprising that two stories which utilize an “Iron Man” would have such a similar theme of trying to learn from past mistakes, even when applied to different cultures. When speaking of periods of humanity, the Iron Age is always most closely associated with mankind. Golden, Silver, Bronze, and other such precious metals speak of easier, more innocent times, and neither Stark nor Kaneda have quite that amount of luxury. Iron, more than any other metal, is associated with forging and bending to human will, after all. That said, I should point out that their respective comics debuted in what amounts to the Silver and Golden Age of comics, respectively, in their native countries.

Nanoha Cannot Be the Best Magical Girl Anime

I take issue with people who declare Mahou Shoujo Lyrical Nanoha (or one of its sequels) to be the best Magical Girl series ever. The magical girl genre is understandably focused primarily on relationships, the pursuit of love, and other similar themes. Nanoha, meanwhile, is noted for its magical girls engaging in earth-shattering battles with devastating laser barrages and bone-shattering impacts. The general impression I get from people who make the claim is that Nanoha is great because it’s a magical girl show without all the fluff and romance.

In other words, it’s the best magical girl show for being nothing like a magical girl show.

I don’t think this is a case of breaking genre conventions, though the thought occurred to me. It’s different from a show like Evangelion which turned the mecha genre on its ear because Evangelion did not go against what defines the mecha genre in the first place. The characters may have been emotional wrecks, but the common theme of humanity and its relationship with war and suffering is a long-running concept since even before First Gundam, and it’s present in Evangelion with a twist. Princess Tutu, as an example closer to the topic of Nanoha at hand, approaches the issue of meta-stories and the very nature of “story” itself, but it maintains itself as a magical girl series with, again, its emphasis on relationships.

I like the Nanoha series, but the appeal of it is more like a Sunrise mecha show than it is a magical girl series, and I think to judge it from that perspective is a little unusual. It would be like saying that a plate of spaghetti you just ate is the best yakisoba ever, despite tasting nothing like how a yakisoba should. The key word in mahou shoujo is shoujo, and personally I think the fact that Nanoha is basically only a magical girl show on the surface automatically disqualifies it.

PS: If you’re wondering what I consider to be the best magical girl series, Cardcaptor Sakura, of course.

The Rational Male Companion

Few characters can impress me as much as the Rational Male Companion. These are the characters who are frequently well-acquainted with headstrong women, and though they may not have the guts or the power to rescue damsels in distress, they seek to provide understanding and kindness for the women they hold dear.

When Yoko finds herself stranded in the land of the Twelve Kingdoms, betrayed by everyone she ever trusted, It is the half-man/half-rat/non-ninja Rakushun who proves to her through his gentle and inquisitive nature that there are still good people in the world. Linn Jinto is not the brightest or the strongest man in the Abh empire, but his close friendship with Lafiel exhibits his sincerity and empathy, as well as his subdued sense of humor. Dominic Soleil does not even have the benefit of an entirely sane love interest, but his persistence and use of his own personal strengths (intelligence-gathering as opposed to Giant Robot Fighting) are indicative of his complete devotion to Anemone.

It really doesn’t have to do with the Rational Male as much as it has to do with the fact that he is someone’s Companion. They forge deep bonds with their friends and lovers, a bond tempered by the kind of self-confidence one can only find by being comfortable with oneself, accepting one’s own strengths and weaknesses.

The Immortal Who Watches Animation

I am troubled when people deride an animation for being too “old” without considering its other merits, and I think it’s a matter of broader perspective.

While we can look at older animation from our perspective today and see how far we’ve come be it 2d or 3d, don’t forget that today will become yesterday and years down the line the industry will have progressed even further technically and technologically, as well as in the realm of ideas (I hope). It feels kind of odd to think that all this fancy stuff going on today may even become laughable in the future, but as I think about it more I begin to wonder if the technical stops becoming a factor as more and more time passes. That is to say, if I were immortal and could watch hundreds of years of animation go by, I think after a while I would stop caring about realism or the pursuit of realism. Realism is just an example and it could be anything.

That all said, I personally also tend to put great emphasis on watching an animation with knowledge of the context in which it was produced and shown, because many achievements made by animations have to be viewed through the lens of society or history. It’s the other side of the coin perhaps, that while I can argue against people not watching an anime because it’s old, I can’t argue against people watching it for that very same reason.

The Theatrical Nature of Anime

American movies and television in general involve very little soliloquy as one would see in theater. I’ve been told before that if a movie or television series has a person talking to himself that it’s not considered good. After all, movies and television aren’t theater, right? Also, internal monologues used as voice overs are apparently a no-no as well.

With this in mind, I watched Gundam 00 Episode 24, and watched as Setsuna F. Seiei spoke to himself, alone in a room, for about five minutes. And I liked it that way.

I’ve known for a long time that when comparing anime to American entertainment, there are some things which are very different. I’ve thought of plenty of possibilities: plot, character archetypes, story progression, even simply visual aesthetics, but upon seeing Setsuna speak to himself, I came to realize that perhaps anime relates more closely not to television or film, but to theater.

I suspect that it may partially have to do with anime often times being an adaption of manga works, where still images and word bubbles work together to provide greater amounts of information, where internal monologue or long exposition are almost necessary to truly get what’s going on with a character, perhaps due to manga’s relationship to written text.

Another similarity I see involves the criticism of the Sunrise-style 52 episode shows which take 13 episodes to develop into their true plot. The criticism leveled at this method is that it takes too long to get anywhere, which I think may say more about attention span of viewers than anything else. This reminds me of Shakespeare’s plays which can go on for 3-4 hours in one sitting. And yes, I have found myself dozing off during them as well, despite the fact that I didn’t necessarily find them boring. Count me among the guilty.

I realize that I like the theatrics of anime, be they melodramatic 70s shoujo or a more down to earth style of storytelling such as in Honey and Clover. Not that I don’t like other forms and methods of storytelling, even the American style, but  I really wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Passive Protagonist

I’ve learned that many, many people do not like passive protagonists. They are seen as weak-willed, indecisive, unpleasant to watch, and just plain too passive. There’s nothing I can do to stop people from feeling this way, but it makes me wonder why I, for example, like the passive protagonist whose life is changed by circumstances beyond his control.

The second most hated anime protagonist of all time is everyone’s favorite human male Evangelion pilot Ikari Shinji (thanks, Itou Makoto for taking the position of most hated). Shinji is a very passive protagonist who, while capable of taking action, only does so as a reaction to things happening around him. It’s not because he’s poorly written, or that he’s necessarily a surrogate for the viewer. Shinji is the way he is, and his passive nature is a direct result of the events in his life, as well as his inability to truly take action for himself.

I can’t fault Shinji for that. I can’t even fault him for never quite getting over it, just as I can’t really fault people for not liking Shinji’s character. But it makes me think of the sheer difference two lives can experience to the point that one person will connect to a character such as Shinji while the other will immediately reject him. And of course, one may turn into the other as we accumulate more experiences in our lives.

Understanding the “Emotionless” Anime Girl

I’ve heard it all before, about how otaku like the quiet, blue-haired anime girls because they’re empty dolls onto which fans can imprint any sort of fantasy on them. It’s supposed to be a selfish fantasy that speaks nothing of REAL women.

And this is wrong.

The first step to understanding the “emotionless” anime girl is to realize that they’re not emotionless at all. More important than the quiet distance that they usually provide is the evidence of emotion that appears. Because they are so quiet all the time, any actions they take are that much more significant. They may even say that they’re unable to feel anything, but when evidence proves otherwise, it fascinates the viewer, who gets a brief glimpse at what the character may really be all about.

Ayanami Rei’s stern reaction to Shinji holding that pair of broken glasses.

Eureka’s simple comment that Renton is “interesting.”

Nagato Yuki contributing to the defeat of the Computer Club.

Vanilla H’s anything and everything.

And of course, Hoshino Ruri discovering her childhood.

If someone wants a blank slate to fantasize over, the truth is that any character will do. But fans who love the “emotionless” type do not do it out of some desire for an everywoman, they do it out of the desire to see what this specific girl is all about. More important than imprinting an image onto the character is striving to find out what the character is all about.

PS: As I’ve said in a previous post, I don’t count Kawazoe Tamaki in this category. She’s just a quiet girl who wears her heart on her sleeve.

Where are all the fat chicks?

In the works of anime and manga, that is.

Note: This isn’t a feminist or anti-feminist post or anything like that, so don’t expect a deep philosophical argument about the injustices of a male society/the overpowering feminazis.

I understand that society, be it Japanese, American, or otherwise, tend to have standards on beauty, and that there are even wildly differing opinions within each society, but I was reminded today by a figure drawing and anatomy book that there’s a strong emphasis on slender beauty. Not overly slender to the point of health problems as is is the case with supermodels, but an emphasis on remaining trim. I also understand that it’s an anatomy and figure drawing guide and probably wants to emphasize the musculature of characters as a guide to the reader, but my issue isn’t with how to draw books.

As much as I am fond of the anime ladies, I do not think that the styles associated with it are so static and impossible to adjust that overweight women cannot be portrayed as beautiful, which I think is clear is a common motivating factor for the appearance of female characters in any sort of entertainment. Perhaps my fondness for Ogiue, a thin female character, does not make it obvious, but everyday I see plenty of very attractive women with meat on their bones but don’t necessarily have the voluptuous hourglass figures of Ikkitousen or Witchblade, which some people will claim as being “close enough.” I also understand that overweight women, while present in Japan, are not as common as elsewhere, and that even the standards for being considered overweight can change drastically from culture to culture. My mother once told me that when she was young, she didn’t know people could ever become heavier than about 140 lbs.

I also cannot believe that all Japanese men prefer the thin woman to the thick one. I have no numbers to throw around, but probability (and the release of certain adult titles) suggest that there is a fanbase out there. More importantly though, even if there isn’t much of a contingent for this body type, anime and fanart in their ability to idealize the feminine form most certainly are able to make a larger woman attractive to otaku.

And I refuse to believe that the idealization involves simply making them thinner.

Enjoying shows for children as an adult

There has always been talk about how anime/cartoons are for kids, and the argument against that has usually been “no it’s not, look at all these mature shows out there.”

Regardless of your definition of mature, this is not about those shows. This is about kids’ shows for kids, and watching them as an adult.

It is incorrect to think that just because a show is for kids, that it must be inferior writing-wise to shows meant for a mature audience. It may be the case that certain themes must remain simplified for children, but honest, good writing will always prevail no matter the audience.

You can appreciate shows from the distance of adulthood, or perhaps enjoy a kids’ show as is, as a fan, but either way is valid.

The dance of moe

I believe that the appeal of moe is derived from the viewer and not the product. The basis of moe is in a person’s own feelings of doubt, insecurity, and empathy. Not necessarily that they are full of doubt and insecurity, but rather that they are very aware of its power.

Moe does not always address these feelings head on, but it frequently refers to them in its characters. Even the strongest characters are somehow weak, and weakness is okay for not only the characters, but also the viewers, is the message I believe moe gives.

I don’t think moe is the complete removal of reality and the real world because even the most simplistic of moe addresses the inner feelings of people, and emotions are a world that to any person are more real than the world surrounding them.