Trekked to Sliedrecht, Did the Anime Thing: Tsunacon 2011

It’s been quite a few years since I was able to attend any sort of anime-related event outside of the United States, so when I found out that right here in the Netherlands are not one, not two, but three anime cons, why I had to check at least some of them out. This report is about the first of them, Tsunacon, located in the town of Sliedrecht. I’m not sure why it’s called Tsunacon, though I suspect it’s a play off of “Tsunami.”

Held in De Lockhorst, a complex devoted to athletic activities and just having spaces and rooms available for just this very kind of thing, Tsunacon is a one-day event. I’ve attended one-day events before, namely the PAS Spring Fest in New York City and Tekkoshocon‘s Tekko 1/2 held at the Carnegie Library, and if I had to compare Tsunacon to those two mini-cons, I’d say that Tsunacon feels the most like an actual anime convention. This might have to do with the fact that Tsunacon is not a free event (although the ticket price is more than fair) whereas the other two are, but it’s more the atmosphere of it.

Before I go into the con itself though, I have to point out the train to Sliedrecht. Moving between the cities of Dordrecht (not to be confused with Dordray) and Geldermalsen and about 4 cars long, I think it’s kind of adorable and also anime-related if you stretch your logic a bit. You can do it, Spurt-tan!

De Lockhorst is only a short walk from the Sliedrecht train station. On my way there, I saw two couples holding hands and possibly cosplaying as well. Ah, nerd love.

When you get inside the first thing you’ll notice is the concession area. While the collection of Japanese snacks (Yan Yan, Ramune) are likely a familiar sight to the American con attendee, there are a number of uniquely Dutch snacks, such as poffertjes, tiny pancakes in powdered sugar, and frikandel, a kind of minced meat sausage. They also had a cotton candy machine, which I’ve never seen at any US anime con.

The big culinary hit here was Cup Noodles, at €3 a cup. Now you might be asking, “3 Euros?! Isn’t that a bit overpriced?” It most certainly is, but the attendees could not get enough off Momofuku Ando’s glorious creation. I couldn’t tell you why it was so popular, but I wonder if the more traditionally Dutch foods don’t carry the same novelty. Maybe it’s just the sheer joy of eating noodles from a cup alongside your friends.

When I think about it though, the Broodje Kroket (croquet breads) ares kind of like the Croquet Pan you’d find in Japanese bakeries. Even when you’re eating “normal foods,” you’re not too far off, Dutch anime fans!

The real kicker though would probably be that they sell beer alongside everything else. And not just any beer…

That’s right, Japanese beer for the Japanese anime fans.

Given that the average age at Tsunacon was decidedly “teenager,” this might set off some alarms, but I must point out that the drinking age here is actually 16, excluding hard liquors. In fact, despite the relatively low median age of the attendees here, everyone seemed quite well-behaved. Even the “hug me” signs seemed more subdued compared to their US peers.

Tsunacon obviously isn’t devoted solely to food though, and close by were the manga library, a game room, a workshop room, and the dealer’s room.

The Manga Library had a fairly sizable collection of titles in both English and Dutch, as well as a few in Japanese. It grew more and more popular throughout the day, and as if to anticipate the creative spark that reading manga would inspire, they left pencil and paper around so that people could draw. I myself decided to revisit an old friend and read the Sai vs Touya Meijin chapters of Hikaru no Go.

The Game Room, which meant specifically video games (sorry card and board game fans, though I did see a number of Yu-Gi-Oh! players dueling it out), had systems ranging from the classic NES to the X-Box 360 and Wii, as well as popular convention games like Dance Dance Revolution. I have no idea what version it might have been.

One thing that stood out to me was the European SNES, pictured above, which resembles the Japanese Super Famicom a lot more than it does its American counterpart. If you’re wondering what game that is, it’s Battletoads vs. Double Dragon. It is a terrible game, but the thought is appreciated. And yes, 4chan memes are popular here too.

I originally planned on participating in a Super Smash Bros. Brawl tournament, but the slots filled up extremely quickly, and by the time I got there it was too late. However, it turned out that the Super Street Fighter IV tournament was short on competitors, so I decided to throw my hat into the ring. I picked Sagat, my favorite character from the Street Fighter series, and defeated my first opponent only to lose to the very next one 1:2. You might not think that to be terribly impressive, but I was quite proud of myself given that-

  1. I’ve never played Super Street Fighter IV
  2. I’ve only played vanilla Street Fighter IV once

But Sagat is Sagat, and I just threw fireballs and delivered uppercuts on my way to victory, at least for a short while.

The workshop room had workshops on cosplay and drawing manga, all in Dutch so even if I felt particularly motivated to start cosplaying I wouldn’t be able to reap its benefits.

The Dealer’s Room also doubled as the bag check room, and was mandatory if you were planning on doing any shopping, or even playing  in the game room. The main activities of the Dealer’s Room, aside from shopping of course, were the “Manga School” workshop and the goldfish-catching game straight out of your favorite festival episode. The winner who caught the most “goldfish” (they had to use rubber balls here) would win some Haruhi pins and a poster of a J-Pop singer whose name I’ve unfortunately forgotten. My goldfish endeavors came out to a big fat zero, but that’s okay.

Another interesting element of the Dealer’s Room at Tsunacon was that, perhaps due to space limitations, the Dealer’s Room also doubled somewhat as an Artist’s Alley. But while American cons’ Artist Alleys seem primarily focused with individual images, Tsunacon’s anime fan artists were big on self-publishing, often times with their very own original characters, though publications based on existing series were also present. In this regard, one table in particular caught my eye.

A Genshiken-themed doujinshi of all things! Of course I had to get it. It’s not 18+, in case you were wondering.

You know what I like? Ogiue. And you know what else I like? Pokemon. This book manages to combine both, and that is quite all right with me. I was also flattered to find out that they actually knew about Ogiue Maniax, and I was proud to have them do the doujin event thing and get some sketches. Thanks a lot to all of you! I wish you had a website URL in the book so I could direct people.

A short walk from the entrance where the concessions and around the corner landed me in the anime karaoke lounge. Now I’ve done karaoke at dedicated locations, and I’ve done convention karaoke, but what was nice about this place was that it was more or less a small bar/restaurant. In addition to the snacks you could get from before, helpful staffers worked as waiters, taking orders for food and drink while everyone sat around enjoying the fan-powered renditions of God Knows, Hatsune Miku, various Final Fantasy themes, the Chobits opening, and more. They actually had it set up so that the lyrics would pop up in romaji which the singer could follow, much like a real karaoke place. This is quite different from Otakon where they hand you the lyrics on a sheet and you have to do your best given the circumstances. Not knocking Otakon or anything, but this system was way more useful for people who felt like they kind of knew their songs but still needed some help.

I partook of a macaroon from a helpful staffer/waiter before exercising my own lungs. My song of choice: the Mazinger Z opening, which I performed a little better than I thought I would. (Fortunately) I do not have any record of the event, as while I love to karaoke, I am not what you might be calling “talented.” It might be better to say that I can display a degree of courage when it comes to on-stage performances. Despite the relative youthfulness of the crowd, they actually got quite into my performance, and by the time I was done I received a full applause from the room. Thank you all.

If you weren’t paying attention to the singing though, you might have noticed the interesting decorative choice in the form of various Disney statues placed throughout the bar/lounge.


The two “main events” of Tsunacon would have to be the competitions, both AMV and cosplay. Unfortunately, despite knowing this beforehand it somehow slipped my mind while there, and I didn’t go to either. My apologies! While I’m normally not much of an AMV or cosplay sort of person, I still wish that I’d managed to check them out. According to the schedule, the same room also housed video showings and some quiz-based panels, so it was ostensibly the video and competition/events room. Next year!

While I did not attend any actual cosplay events, I did see quite a few excellent cosplayers, which you can see below. There was a really good Crocodile from One Piece cosplayer, but I wasn’t able to catch him.

Overall, Tsunacon was a fun little one-day excursion where there the focus was primarily on letting the attendees do their thing. Rather than going from event to event or even spending the entire day in one location, the con seemed more conducive to just hanging out with your otaku comrades. In that regard, I do wish I had brought others with me, because as cool as it was a one-man trip to a con can only get you so much. It’d also be cool if they had more informational panels in addition to their workshops and games, not for me as my Dutch is abysmal, but to foster learning that doesn’t necessarily have direct utility. The space was also a tad crowded, but nowhere near as insane as some of the bigger cons I’ve attended, and if anything this is a good sign that Tsunacon is getting increasingly popular.

I’ll leave off with these collaborative drawing boards. I drew a couple of things myself. See if you can spot them!

You’re Magical: Ojamajo Doremi

On the surface, Ojamajo Doremi is a relatively simple series. Its plot isn’t particularly complex, and it can hardly be called a controversial series that creates divisive opinions. However, I also find it remarkably difficult to review because it is really, really good. Its strengths are many while its faults are few, and it represents some of the best that not just the magical girl genre but anime in general has to offer.

Ojamajo Doremi centers around a trio of 3rd-graders and their path from witch apprentices to their ultimate goal of becoming full witches with mastery of magic. The titular heroine Harukaze Doremi is an energetic motormouth, easily lovestruck, who calls herself “the world’s unluckiest pretty girl.” Fujiwara Hazuki, shy, intelligent, and a connoisseur of bad puns, is the only daughter of a wealthy family and Doremi’s best friend. Rounding out the core group is Aiko, a tomboy from Osaka with a penchant for takoyaki and money who lives with her single father. Along the way, they use their magic to help out friends, family, and various others around town, though their magic often backfires in a humorous fashion.

The show is mostly episodic, with a few ongoing plot elements, most significantly the periodic “witch exams” the girls have to take in order to move up in rank and gain more powerful magical abilities, and on a basic level Ojamajo Doremi feels very comfortably like any other magical girl show with its cute mascots and brightly colored wands and transformation sequences. However, it uses those trappings to great effect, telling genuinely heartfelt stories with strong and enriching messages without going out of its way to diverge from convention. This desire to motivate, combined with the show’s incredibly rich characterization, gives a strong sense of not just how well-developed the characters’ personalities are, but that they’re inspirations to those watching.

The first really solid example of the show’s approach to characterization—and the first instance where Ojamajo Doremi begins to exhibit its full strength—is the portrayal of Aiko’s relationship with her father. When the girls’ elementary school has its “Take Your Parents to School Day,” everyone is excited. Aiko, though, purposely chooses not to tell her father about it. The reason? Having only recently moved from Osaka, Aiko’s father is a new face at his current job, and she doesn’t want to harm his reputation at his taxi company for what she considers a selfish purpose by having him take the day off so soon after starting.

When I first saw this, I was just so impressed by how this little bit of information addresses and reveals so much. It establishes Aiko as a strong, mature, and practical girl who really loves and supports her father, all without explicitly bringing up any of those attributes. It also shows the difficulties that go along with being a single parent working a job with long hours and presents a real situation which father and daughter have had to face together.

The show’s excellent treatment of its characters does not end with Aiko, and while Aiko might have the best introduction, it is perhaps Hazuki who grows the most. When Hazuki is first seen, she is a wallflower whose kind, soft-spoken nature complements the louder Doremi well. Over the course of the series, while Hazuki never stops being an overall quiet girl, she slowly learns how to be more assertive, sometimes even being the first to act. However, I must point out that Hazuki does not “gain” any strength of character, as it’s clear from the very start that her best qualities were with her all along, and that she merely needed the confidence to express herself more readily.

Doremi herself is not to be outdone in terms of characterization, either. Not only does she have about as much development as Aiko and Hazuki, but her infectious personality alone would be capable of carrying the show without the rest of the series being so good. Doremi is a clumsy girl who frequently gets outsmarted by her much younger sister, but she’s also very unorthodox and her straightforward personality is endearing. In a magical girl series aimed primarily at young girls, she is an exemplary heroine with whom they can learn and grow themselves.

As a series aimed towards kids, Ojamajo Doremi has the added concern of not only being entertaining but also delivering a good message to the children watching. Fortunately, this is where the series really excels, most notably through its tempered optimism and its approach to magic.

Ojamajo Doremi‘s is a message of positivity, but it is not so afraid to expose its viewers to some of the sadder, potentially more hurtful aspects of life to the point that it would pretend they do not exist. The problems that the girls help out with can range from rescuing a boy who fell into a hole to helping a girl come to terms with her own guilt over killing a pet. This also extends to the main characters themselves, such as the fact that Aiko’s mother walked out on their family. It’s quite a sensitive topic for Aiko, but Aiko doesn’t let it get her down, and it’s this emphasis on enjoying life, bumps and all, that also contributes to Ojamajo Doremi‘s success as a children’s show that has much more substance than other anime like it.

As for magic, Ojamajo Doremi places great importance on how it is utilized. As is the premise of the show, Doremi, Hazuki, and Aiko regularly use their spells to aid others, but the more you watch it the more you realize that the magic does not solve anyone’s problems for them. As a hypothetical example, if two friends are fighting, rather than making them less angry, the three girls’ magic will place them in the same room so that those friends can talk it out and clear up any misunderstandings. Thus, instead of eliminating the problem outright, the magic in Ojamajo Doremi acts as a guide, nudging people in the right direction so that they can find the answers for themselves. It’s a message that a lot of kids’ shows in general fail to deliver, let alone magical girl anime, and it’s really the kind of thing that can get a child (or an adult!) to think, even if they don’t realize it at first.

Now if the show has any real flaw, it’s that the show is by necessity designed to sell toys. It isn’t a big problem at first, but about halfway through the series it becomes clear that the toys weren’t selling quite enough, and the new animations for the girls’ magic spells really place the merchandise dead center for the kids at home to see. But as I said, it’s necessary for this sort of program, and the show manages to overcome this limitation in spades. Another lesser flaw is that the English dub for it is really, really bad, changing dialogue and stripping away much of the charm of the series.

Overall, Ojamajo Doremi is an amazing series. It is an almost perfect case of how to execute a proper magical girl anime that creates strong emotional connections with the characters that has you looking forward to more of their adventures. It leaves you not only satisfied with the quality of the work itself, but happy that the show was able to relay its messages of personal growth, positivity, and friendship to children and adults of all ages. Whether you’re 10 years old or somebody’s parent or just someone who appreciates good anime, Ojamajo Doremi is simply worth watching.

Kine-Sis: Ore no Imouto ga Konna ni Kawaii Wake ga Nai

Back when I wrote my initial thoughts on Ore no Imouto ga Konna ni Kawaii Wake ga Nai (My Little Sister Can’t Be This Cute), I felt unsure of just how the show would turn out. While definitely an otaku-pandering show, it seemed to be capable of much more, and so I refrained from posting about it again until I finished the series right and proper. Now that the series is over I feel I can lay down a firmer opinion.

So, did Oreimo live up to its potential? And would it indeed have been better off if it wasn’t so focused on the “little sister” thing?

The answer to the first question is “not quite.”

Whenever I was asked what I thought of Oreimo as it was airing, I could only summarize my opinion by saying that for every good thing the show did, it also did something bad, and this didn’t really change too much as I kept watching. That doesn’t mean that the show didn’t improve some over time, but that every improvement was met by an equal and opposite reaction. Originally, the reason the show caught my attention was that underneath all of the basic little sister stuff, it seemed to address a deeper issue that concerns the otaku that are inevitably its own fanbase, that of self-confidence and self-image in otaku. It’s one of the themes that made me love Genshiken so much, so perhaps I was somewhat biased in seeing that, but little sister Kirino and the show at large brings forth the question, “Can I show my otaku self to others?”

In one episode, Kirino tries to make friends with fellow anime fans she’s met on the internet, but her initial attempt is stymied by the fact that her stylish clothes and lack of interest in bishounen and pairings creates an incompatibility with those with whom she was trying to speak. “We’re otaku, but we have nothing in common.” In another episode, Kirino has to face her best friend Ayase discovering Kirino’s obsession with little sisters and the pressure of having someone close to you, someone who genuinely wants the best for you, try to help but come across as attacking the very core of your being with very hurtful words. Her dad also discovers her collection, and will have no part of it. I know these problems. I’ve felt them myself and I’ve seen others struggle with them, and when Oreimo is on, it can really hit home for the anxious geek, at least in bringing those sore spots into the light.

Unfortunately, the resolution left something to be desired fairly often. While Kirino’s plight with making otaku friends turns out well with her eventually befriending Kuroneko and Saori Bajeena and showing that incompatible anime tastes doesn’t mean you can’t be friends, the solutions for the non-otaku finding out about her hobby essentially came out to going around them. In both the case of Ayase and her father, the problem was resolved by older brother Kyousuke purposely taking the blame for everything. This was noble of him and all, but the issue is that the problem itself is not confronted. I worried about this for a while, wondering what would come of it, if anything. In a later episode you see Ayase trying (and failing) to understand Kirino’s obsession and overcome some of her own prejudices so it didn’t completely disappear, but overall moments like those made the show feel like while it could bring the big guns to the party, it couldn’t actually fire them.

I know I might get criticized for expecting too much, and that I should have just treated it as an otaku-pandering fanservice anime, but it was not I who brought up the aforementioned otaku problems, but the show itself. If it had ignored those points or not have presented them as well as it did, I wouldn’t be basing on my opinion on that aspect, but it did. At its best, the show seemed genuinely heartfelt. Seeing Kuroneko “out of character” and just interacting with her younger siblings showed a very human side of her. It provided a contrast with the title of the show nicely, Kuroneko herself being the older sister and not in the “onee-san” character type kind of way, which complements Kirino’s own status as a not-quite “imouto character-type” little sister. At its depths however, Oreimo was like a show that talked realistically about cancer and the financial burden it can cause on the family around a cancer victim, only to magic the cancer away at the end or fall back on the same old stereotypes and tropes.

I don’t really regret watching Oreimo, as I feel that even though it didn’t do as much as it could have, it still accomplished something, and I can only hope that the otaku that could be helped by its message, however distorted, can benefit from it even a little. If it can do that, then I might just recommend it. As for the second question of whether the “little sister” aspect helped or hurt the show, I think it would have been a little better off if the show encouraged us more to see her as a girl first and a little sister second.

I also thought it could be pretty funny.

Mysterious Madarame X: Genshiken II, Chapter 59

This month’s Genshiken II focuses on club alumnus Madarame. If you’re the kind of person who likes to pair anime characters up, then this chapter has a lot for you to chew on. Romance! Sort of.

Madarame has always been a fan-favorite, due in part to the fact that he seems the “Truest Nerd 4 Life” and thus the one closest to us. This is especially evident in his unrequited love for Kasukabe; sinking back into the recesses for fear of not ruining your friendship is the hallmark of the nerd with heartache, that “noble nerd” mindset with which many deceive themselves. I don’t know about you, but I’ve definitely felt that before, even if it wasn’t directed at any girl in particular.  So when Sasahara’s sister Keiko confronts Madarame about his feelings towards Saki in the tactless way that only Keiko can (as opposed to the tactless way only Sue can), Madarame gets taken for a psychological ride and we’re taken along with them.

Keiko, who has herself shown affections for the other half of the Kohsaka-Kasukabe Combination, makes it very clear that not only is she well aware of Madarame’s crush on Kasukabe, but that just about everyone else is too, possibly even including Saki herself. Of course, this comes as a complete shock to Madarame, who failed to realize that in his concerted efforts to minimize his longing gazes at Saki actually made his feelings completely obvious. Though this has very much to do with the fact that Madarame is such a huge dork, believing you’re subtle when you’re really not is a problem many guys have, and I can really empathize with him. Madarame has a track record of doing this, too. I mean, let’s not forget the “nose hair” incident.

By the way, I’m unsure of how popular it is among English-speaking fandom, but I know there’s a decent amount of Japanese Genshiken fans who are way into Madarame x Keiko (or Keiko x Madarame). I wonder if Kio Shimoku is aware of that?

Madarame and Keiko’s conversation never quite resolves. Sue walks in at an (in-) opportune moment, suggesting that not only do Sasahara and Keiko have more in common than expected, but that perhaps Sue is actually a cosmic being who takes strength from the meta-fabric of Genshiken itself, particularly in channeling Ogiue references. I hope that Sue gets her own dedicated chapter at some point in this run. Shifting character focus from chapter to chapter seems to be the direction of Genshiken II, so I think there’s a fair chance of it happening. Maybe Angela will make a brief return.

In any case, despite Sue’s interruption, Keiko leaves Madarame with a profound message: the only reason he can continue to spin in place is because he’s never had his heart broken. And again, if we look at Genshiken history, right there on-panel in the beach chapter was Keiko confronting an old boyfriend. Whether that bad outcome was the result of “heartbreak” or not is unclear, as is whether Keiko has truly given up on Kohsaka, but the comparison between then and now shows the kind of maturity that Keiko’s developed since we first saw her trying to wrangle money from her brother, incomplete as that maturity may be.

So while the chapter was Madarame-centric, Keiko also got a lot of development, or at least we see that she’s developed some since her last appearance.

Book-ending the chapter is Madarame’s interactions with Hato, who has been using Madarame’s apartment to change in and out of his feminine clothing. The impossibly attractive Hato is messing up Madarame’s wiring a bit, and even he can’t tell whether his friendliness with Hato is more of the male companionship he clearly misses from his club days or if it’s something else entirely (or possibly both). Again, for you shippers out there, I’m sure this chapter pleases Caesar. Interestingly, Hato himself seems to be getting the most consistent amounts of page time. I wonder if it just has to do with the fact that he is the biggest mystery of Genshiken.

Ogiue meanwhile is poised to make her published manga debut, and I am continually fascinated by her relationship with Sasahara, notably in the way they butt heads due to their respective professions of artist and editor, and how it ultimately results in better work. Ogiue’s experience with Sashara-as-editor, which we’ve seen ever since the last volume of Genshiken, is itself likely influenced by Kio Shimoku’s own time at Kodansha’s Monthly Afternoon, and seems to confirm Peepo Choo artist Felipe Smith’s own account of creating manga for sister Kodansha publication Morning Two. I’m also curious as to whether or not Sue stays over at Ogiue’s place often and interferes with Sasahara and Ogiue’s alone time, as the chapter seems to imply.

But the real story is that Ogiue’s manga schedule is conflicting with her Comic Festival schedule, and that seems to be the focus for the next chapter.  As you might expect, I’m looking forward to it quite a bit.

Secret Santa: Patlabor: The Movie, Where Oshii Mamoru Says, “Trick or Treat!”

This review is a part of the Reverse Thieves’ Secret Santa Project for 2010.

Mobile Police Patlabor: The Movie is a film by Oshii Mamoru, director of Ghost in the Shell. Though it predates Oshii’s most famous film by a few years, there is no mistaking its pedigree.

In the world of Mobile Police Patlabor, mankind has embraced the use of giant robots to help with large-scale construction and manual work. Referred to as “Labors,” it wasn’t long until some people started using them for less altruistic purposes, creating a new problem in the form of Labor-related crimes. In response, the police begin deploying their own Patrol Labors, or “Patlabors” for short. One such force is the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Special Vehicle Section 2, Division 2, a group of misfit officers whose ranks include a tomboy who names all of her pets Alphonse (her Patlabor being the latest), an overly aggressive gun nut, and a seemingly dull and lazy division chief. Nevertheless, they do their best to serve and protect despite their spotty reputation.

Given this scenario, you’d probably expect some combination of cop show drama and ensemble comedy with a dash of mecha, and you’d be right, normally. But while most of the Patlabor franchise falls along those lines, Patlabor: The Movie is instead a cerebral mystery. A recent string of “berserk” Labors threatens the completion of an important project and the most likely suspect, programmer Hoba Eiichi, is already dead, confounding Shinohara Asuma, the Division 2 member who has taken it upon himself to investigate. All the while, the film explores the continuing onset of technology and the eternal struggle of new vs old, with numerous biblical references strewn throughout. Given the tone and content, Patlabor: The Movie is like a stepping stone towards Ghost in the Shell and the eventual direction Oshii’s oeuvre would take.

The film still has a lot of the requisite elements of Patlabor; it has those same goofy characters (all of whom act as they should), robot fight scenes, and a personal feel to the setting. In fact, you need not have watched any of the previous material to understand the movie or to get an idea of the personality quirks and relationships of the characters. However, those aspects of Patlabor are either more subdued or less frequent in the film, instead putting the spotlight on the mysterious culprit, “E. Hoba” (Jehovah), and his motives. In this respect, it reminds me of another movie, Sengoku Majin Goshogun: The Time Étranger, a sequel to a super robot anime featuring a decidedly different tone and absolutely no giant robots, only Patlabor: The Movie is somehow both more extreme and less in its deviation. Patlabor: The Movie really feels as if Oshii (who also directed the Patlabor OVAs) was trying to push the franchise beyond the limits of its basic premise and bend it to his own personal will. It actually works pretty well overall, maintaining suspense throughout and giving quite a bit to think about, but I’m not sure if Patlabor was the place to do it.

In short, imagine Oshii Mamoru trapped in a giant paper bag called Patlabor, trying to punch his way through until he ends up wearing the bag like a Halloween costume, and you have Mobile Police Patlabor: The Movie. He’s pretty dashing in that getup.

Anime! The Cause of, and Solution to, All of Life’s Problems: Genshiken II, Chapter 58

It’s a big day for the newest members of the Society for the Study of Modern Visual Culture, as the three rookies spend their very first chapter almost entirely independent of Ogiue and the others. Can Yajima, Yoshitake, and Hato carry the story without backup from the Genshiken veterans? Do they have what it takes to garner their own fans? And is Sue a fan of Hellsing? All these questions and more (or not) will be answered in Genshiken II, Chapter 58.

Ogiue, Genshiken chairman that she is, decides to foster camaraderie among the club members and revive an old tradition by having everyone write/draw their own profiles for Genshiken’s defunct club magazine, “Mebaetame.” If you’re not sure what that is, try to remember the little blurbs they had in between chapters of Genshiken where they talked about their favorite Kujibiki Unbalance characters and what-not; that’s “Mebaetame.” If you’ll recall, Ogiue never actually participated in the magazine, and perhaps we’ll finally learn just how to pronounce her pen name, Ogino/Okino Meisetsu/Nayuki/Nariyuki.


Yes.

Yoshitake thinks this is a good opportunity for some healthy bonding, and invites herself and Hato over to Yajima’s place to work on their profiles together while having some beers. Yajima (kind of) agrees, but is uneasy about alcohol. Hato doesn’t seem to mind either way. Here is where we see our first bit of additional insight on the new members: Yoshitake, cheerful and bubbly, has no qualms about knocking a few back (which creates anticipation for the inevitable drinking session/contest with Ohno) and breaking some rules, whereas surly and practical Yajima, citing age restriction as the primary reason to not purchase alcohol, turns out to be more naive than expected. In fact Yajima’s naivete and confidence (or lack thereof) seem to be a major topic for this chapter.

Lacking faith in her own artistic skills (“I said that I draw, not that I can draw!), Yajima, whose first name we find out is “Mirei,” is arguably the most “typical” of all of the girls in Genshiken at this point, especially in terms of looks. When she compares herself to members past and present, including a curvaceous cosplayer, a fashionable “normal” girl, and an impossibly attractive male cross-dresser, you can see how it impacts her self-image. Even Ogiue is likely included among the “beautiful,” as Yajima has only ever seen her as Ogiue Chika, Well-Dressed Professional Manga Artist with Boyfriend, and wasn’t around for the Ogiue who wore clothes two sizes too big, or her gradual and awkward transition to her current state. You can see Yajima thinking, “Wait, otaku aren’t supposed to be this way! If even my fellow nerds are this attractive, where does that leave me?” It’s all the more troubling for her when she remembers that Hato indeed has a Y-chromosome, and that a guy is passed out in her apartment from drinking too much. Being the innocent straight-arrow of an otaku that she is, when she accidentally/intentionally confirms Hato’s gender via skirt lift, it’s clear that it’s far outside of Yajima’s comfort zone.

Seeing as it’s a chapter taking place in Yajima’s apartment, it’s no surprise that she’s getting the most development of the three, though we still learn a few details about the other two. In addition to Yoshitake’s excited, yet nonchalant attitude towards life and its vices, we learn that she has an appetite on the level of Kobayashi Takeru and equates “profile” with “personal essay.”  And with Hato, we now know that he 1) is an Economics Major 2) has quite good taste in anime, and 3) is pretty damn hardcore with the BL. Among his favorite titles are Hetalila, Doarara!!!, Winter Wars, Fuyume’s Book of Friends, and Sweets Basket. He also likes a series called Femto, which I’d like to believe is some Berserk spinoff all about Griffith but might actually be a reference to Boku no Pico.

So overall, I think that Yajima, Yoshitake, and Hato held their own, though next chapter seems to be focusing on Madarame, which is also welcome. Until then, I’m going to try and popularize the phrase “Dai Ogiue.”

G…lee…COOOOOOOO

When it comes to the musical arts, I have to admit that I am quite lacking. I’m a novice in regards to musical theatre, and I am far from knowledgeable about popular music from my own era, let alone from decades prior. So it might seem unusual that I consider myself among the many who enjoy Glee, a show about a high school glee club populated by misfits which combines both of those elements and adds a large dose of teen drama to boot. But not only is Glee fun, it appeals to me on both artistic and intellectual levels as well.

The vast majority of fictional TV shows and films attempt to mimic reality. This does not necessarily mean that they are realistic or that they could be confused for anything but fiction, but that they attempt to create a simulacrum of the real world to facilitate their audiences’ suspension of disbelief, whether it’s Law & Order, The Expendables, or The Andy Griffith Show. Glee is different. Whereas most other shows want you to ignore their existence as “television programs,” Glee revels in the fact that it is fiction first, a portrayal of high school second. The method of characterization, the cinematography, the storylines, the acting, and, yes, even the music, all work together to create an experience where the viewer can practically see the strings and enjoy it for that reason. Its candor is something I can really appreciate, and when watching it I can feel myself picking up on the clever elements of its production while also engaging its story and characters.

Going back to how Glee fosters its self-image as fiction, I want to highlight how characterization is handled in particular. Let’s take Rachel Berry, the talented singer so driven by the pursuit of perfection that she can be incredibly abrasive even to the few friends that she has. In one episode, you learn that she is so constantly focused that she wakes up early every morning to the tune of Matthew Wilder’s “Break My Stride” and jumps on an elliptical for half an hour while staring at a self-made motivational note. Here, you can see how the show really exaggerates her personality traits almost to the point of tangibility. Other good examples include Sue Silvester, the cheerleading coach so Social-Darwinist in her beliefs and so ruthless in her methods that she practically comes across as a supervillain, Emma Pillsbury, the attractive guidance counselor whose neurotic obsession with cleanliness leaves her incapable of eating her own lunch without wearing gloves, and Kurt Hummel, a male soprano so accustomed to being bullied that he can plan his day around it and still remain outspoken. However, while these aspects make up a good portion of their characters, it doesn’t dominate their portrayals. They’re still allowed to grow and develop over the course of the series, and maybe learn an important lesson or two along the way.

If anything, the characterization in Glee reminds me of how many anime and manga approaches characters. There is a similar sense of over-the-top portrayals that are still able to create strong emotional connections and give room for genuine character growth that you might see in 70s sports shoujo (Aim for the Ace!, Swan) or the works of Imagawa Yasuhiro (G Gundam, Giant Robo: The Day the Earth Stood Still). In fact, I think that if someone were to adapt Glee into an anime, they would barely have to change a thing, and I mean that in the best way possible.

So despite the fact that I can’t recognize songs 9 out of 10 times unless they’re anime-related, I can recommend Glee. Well, at least the first season. I’ve yet to experience the second.

Source

Shudou Takeshi, Pokemon, and Me

*NOTE: Turns out some of the information I have in this post is inaccurate. Check the comments below for the correct information!

Shudou Takeshi, anime writer, has passed away at age 61. To fans of magical girl anime, he may be best known as the writer for Fairy Princess Minky Momo, and giant robot fans may associate him with his work on series such as Sengoku Majin Goshogun, but as for me and for millions of others all over the world, our first true exposure to Shudou was through his work on the Pokemon anime. Pokemon is undoubtedly one of the most successful anime series of all time, having penetrated popular culture down to its core along with the games on which it’s based, and while a good portion of its success can no doubt be contributed to effective marketing, underneath it all you will find a surprisingly engrossing story that can attract people of all ages, particularly in the beginning. It is Shudou’s work on those early seasons of Pokemon that helped to give it so much character and memorability.

Pokemon wasn’t always considered the evergreen franchise that it is today, and Shudou’s writing on Pokemon in those early days reflects that. Let’s go back to the very first Pokemon series, to the time when it was just 151 Pokemon; if you were to ask someone who watched the series avidly during this time to list their most memorable moments with the show, what would they say? Most likely, they would recount moments such as Pikachu defeating an Onix by activating ceiling sprinklers, Team Rocket giving their famous speech for the first time, a Bellsprout with expertise in martial arts overwhelming opponents many times its size, and a mysterious and absolutely menacing Pokemon in cybernetic armor asserting total domination over Gary Oak. What these events and many others have in common is that they not only broke the rigid logic of the Pokemon games but also created rules where there were none.

Before the games told us that Pokemon lay eggs and that Rhydon’s horn can act as a lightning rod, the anime gave us a story about how Ash’s Butterfree had to leave to find a mate and showed us that Rhydon’s invulnerability to electricity could be bypassed by attacking it through the horn. Before female main characters were an option, the anime saw fit to turn a water-loving boss character into a supporting cast member. Unorthodox creativity characterized those early seasons of Pokemon under Shudou, and while it meant that kids who believed the show’s every word tended to do poorly when playing against their friends on their Game Boys, on a storytelling level it was a complete boon. I believe that it is this dedication and relative freedom that Shudou and his fellow staffers were able to exercise is that enabled the anime to capture the imaginations of people everywhere and bring them into the Pokemon franchise. They wanted, above all else, to tell a good story.

Nowhere is this desire to entertain and inform more evident than in the very first Pokemon film. Placing Ash, Pikachu, and their companions against the formidable armored Pokemon which so soundly defeated Gary, Mewtwo Strikes Back on its surface seemed like it would be the story of Ash taking on a villain and coming out victorious, but it turned out to be far more profound than perhaps anyone anticipated. Watching the movie through a VHS fansub, I was introduced to Mewtwo, a cloned Pokemon genetically engineered to be the ultimate fighting machine. Having come into the world fully grown and told of its purpose as a living weapon, Mewtwo first destroys its creators and eventually sets out to show that clones are inherently better than their natural counterparts, or at least that’s the initial story. While perhaps even Mewtwo believes that its own goal is telling the world about the superiority of genetic enhancement, in actuality Mewtwo’s true desire is to find worth in its own existence. Ultimately, the important message to take from the film is as follows: the circumstances of why you’re in this world don’t matter nearly as much as the fact that you’re alive and have the right to keep on living.

As the man responsible for the story of Mewtwo Strikes Back, Shudou Takeshi gave us an amazingly complex antagonist in Mewtwo, by far the most well-developed character in Pokemon to date, as well as an amazingly intelligent children’s movie, and his only cues from the original games were that Mewtwo was an offspring of a Pokemon named Mew, that Mewtwo destroyed a lab and escaped, and that Mewtwo is designed to be the strongest Pokemon ever. The manner in which Shudou was able to weave these simple story elements together into an existential tale of a being cursed with incredible power is nothing short of amazing, and it is this very reason that I consider Mewtwo Strikes Back to be the best movie of the franchise, with or without nostalgia. This is also why I was so disappointed at the English release of the film back in 1999 and still am today, as it almost completely whitewashed the actual message of the movie, replaced it with a thematically inappropriate “fighting is wrong” moral. But even with such a compromised story, the light of Shudou’s script is able to shine through, at least a little.

Pokemon was and is one of my first great obsessions, and I cannot understate how beneficial my time with Pokemon has been. I have made lifelong friendships through it. I have interacted with fellow fans about it, and through those interactions established the roots of both my writing style and my approach towards anime as an artform. Without those early seasons of Pokemon, I would not be who I am today. Thank you, Shudou Takeshi. You have made my life.

The Not-So-Gentle Path: Genshiken II, Chapter 57

From the moment I began this blog, I’ve established the fact that I am a huge fan of Genshiken. After reading the inaugural chapter of the all-new Genshiken II however, I realized that this is the first time that I’m actually reading fresh material alongside all my fellow Genshiken enthusiasts. Sure, there was the second TV series, but that was mostly existing material, so in a sense this new “limited series” acts as a kind of return to basics for Ogiue Maniax, a starting point for me to share my thoughts so to speak.

So to celebrate this small revival and to welcome back this blog’s namesake to the world of serialization, I am going to give my thoughts and impressions on this first chapter. As more chapters come out there’s a possibility that you’ll be seeing Ogiue Maniax’s first ever instance of episodic chapter blogging, but I’m not making any guarantees.

New Genshiken feels different. I won’t pretend that it doesn’t. The cast is mostly different and is now populated primarily by women, replacing the “awkward men’s club” vibe that kicked off the original series. At first this seemed a little jarring, but Ohno’s off-handed mention of the soul patch guy, aka the Genshiken member that never was, reminded me that prior to the arrival of Yajima, Yoshitake, and Hato the membership barely ever increased. Ogiue and Kuchiki arrived together, while the following year Sasahara’s sister Keiko entered, and in the case of Kuchiki and Keiko both of them were already introduced previously. Sue is Sue. If anything, with such a large cast change I’d be surprised if the series didn’t feel a little different.

The focal point of Chapter 57 is the cross-dressing Hato Kenjirou (who might be a reference to Hayate the Combat Butler author Hata Kenjirou), or rather, everyone’s opinions of Hato. I think Hato’s inclusion set off alarms in a lot of readers’ heads more than anything else, creating a bit of fear that the series would lose its heart and pander too much to otaku at the expense of what made Genshiken good in the first place. As the chapter went on, I could feel that fear growing in myself, but I think it was actually all just set-up for a really pointed reminder that Kio Shimoku did not forget what made Genshiken tick in the first place.

While I clearly favor Ogiue, I think the real star of the chapter was Yajima. Throughout most of the chapter the club feels almost uncontrollable when it comes to the topic of Hato and cross-dressing in general despite Ogiue’s best efforts, sort of like the impression you might get at an anime con seeing a bunch of young attendees with no supervision. Then Yajima comes out and says that she’s kind of uncomfortable with Hato’s cross-dressing. By presenting this point of contention, Yajima manages to bring the club (and the manga itself) back down to Earth and keeps the club environment from getting completely out of hand.

This sort of conflict is actually a pretty persistent theme in Genshiken, whether it’s in the earlier days with Kasukabe’s mean-spirited attacks on the club, or later on with Ogiue and her own inner demons. In a way, Yajima’s somewhat direct personality and her unfamiliarity with the beast that is the Society for the Study of Modern Visual Culture makes her the “Saki” of the new bunch, even if she can’t match Kasukabe in looks. Whereas Saki was a normal person experiencing the world of otaku for the first time, Yajima, who is already an otaku, has to deal with an anime club unlike any she’s ever experienced. That’s not to say that the other characters are unrealistic, though. Hato is developing well, and even the way in which Ohno, Sue, Yoshitake, and Kuchiki get carried away is not that unusual. It’s simply that Yajima, as well as Ogiue, act to rein them in a little, creating a new and different character dynamic.

On the topic of Ogiue, I found it quite interesting that, aside from a small bit of pictorial exposition by Sue, Ogiue goes through the entire chapter without her signature paintbrush style. Even the one-shot had Ogiue tie her hair up, something that was established in previous material as a habit of hers when drawing. Though I’m sure it’ll return in at least one future chapter, it still feels like a break of sorts with the previous series. In terms of her character, it’s interesting seeing Ogiue as Genshiken chairman. After all, back when the original series ended it was one of my greatest wishes to see the continued appearance of Ogiue as head, and in this situation I find myself to be quite fortunate.

Ogiue isn’t a natural leader. In fact, none of the previous chairmen were, with the possible exception of the mysterious First Chairman. However, all of them were able to develop their own natural strengths into leader-like qualities, whether it was Madarame’s strong self-image as an otaku, Sasahara’s subtle confidence and understanding, or Ohno’s gentle guidance, and Ogiue looks to be doing the same. Though not always consistent, Ogiue can have quite a forceful personality, especially when she puts her foot down about something, and I think that this aspect of her personality, combined with the fact that those new members are all freshmen, will result in her being more and more comfortable with her position of authority as time passes.

So that’s the start Genshiken II, and I look forward to more. Of course.

Heroman? What About Villainman?

Question: What’s the difference between Anpanman and Heroman?

The answer is, Anpanman has an arch-enemy.

I recently finished Heroman, the BONES collaboration with American comics legend Stan Lee, and while the show had some positive qualities to it, it fell flat overall, due in no small part to a long run of episodes in the middle which pretty much just meandered about. But in the list of things the show could have done better, what really stood out to me was how Heroman and Joey Jones never got a proper supervillain to call their own. Sure, Heroman and Joey have adversaries and rivals, namely the insectoid Skrugg and their leader Gogorr, as well as Dr. Minami and “Anime Flash Thompson,” but none of them felt quite right, even if two out of the three turned out interesting in the end.

Gogorr had the most potential to be an arch-enemy.  As a galactic conqueror that can augment and evolve his body for combat, he bears a great resemblance to Vilgax, the primary villain in the American cartoon Ben 10, but the main difference here is that, unlike Gogorr, I would most definitely consider Vilgax to be Ben Tennyson’s arch-enemy. With Ben and Vilgax, not only could you sense a greater degree of personal animosity between the two, but Vilgax’s actions directly cause Ben to get his powers in the first place. In contrast, Gogorr feels a little too distant from Joey both emotionally and thematically to be a proper nemesis. Another factor is that the way Gogorr is presented makes him feel a little too powerful to be an arch-enemy, too much of a Goliath to Heroman’s David, and too much of an Archmage to Heroman’s Goliath.

Left: Vilgax, Right: Gogorr

A lack of arch-enemies might seem like an odd thing to single out, and to be sure the inclusion of one wouldn’t have solved all of Heroman‘s problems, but the reason I’m focusing on the concept is that the arch-enemy is a near-integral part of what makes superhero stories feel like superhero stories, and as a show at least partially based on the American superhero concept, Heroman could have benefitted from such a character. On a more intellectual level, they provide a nice foil for the hero, holding up a mirror to the hero’s own abilities either through being the opposite or being the same (or sometimes both), but on a simpler level supervillains expand the world of the superhero by having a great evil that can be vanquished by a great good, highlighting both protagonist and antagonist. I wouldn’t go as far as saying that Heroman needed a relationship with a villain on par with Superman/Lex Luthor or the Fantastic Four/Doctor Doom, but just having someone to stand in contrast to Heroman and Joey would go a long way in highlighting the “What does it mean to be a hero?” theme that persists throughout Heroman.