Finally, a Good Translation for the Title! Pocket Monsters Diamond & Pearl: Arceus – Transcend the Confines of Time and Space

NOTE: The English version of the movie provides us a good translation of the Japanese title of this Arceus movie by putting it right in the dialogue. Remember folks, if you are going to translate the title instead of using the English adaptation’s as I have, Choukoku no Jikuu e should now be called Transcend the Confines of Time and Space. Stop using every translation of the title except this one, including my previous one. That line of debate should be over one way or another.

The latest movie in the Pokemon franchise is unique in a number of ways, something which is impressive given that this is the twelfth time Pokemon has seen a theatrical release. This is the first time a Pokemon movie has been released in English so soon after its Japanese release. Known as Pocket Monsters Diamond & Pearl: Arceus – Transcend the Confines of Time and Space (known in English as Arceus and the Jewel of Life), it not only is the conclusive part of the Diamond/Pearl/Platinum movie trilogy, but also the first Pokemon movie to place its focus on a god of all creation.

That god is known as Arceus, who in legends is said to have shaped the universe with its 1,000 arms. A metaphor I’m sure, seeing as the kirin-like Arceus has no arms to speak of. The movie centers around his return to Earth after many generations, where Arceus plans on exacting Judgment upon the humans who had dared to betray him all those years ago. And in the case of Arceus, “Judgment” translates into “Fiery Death from Above.”

The only Pokemon capable of even putting up a fight against this Pokemon deity are the feature Pokemon of the previous two movies, Dialga (the Pokemon who rules time), Palkia (the Pokemon who is given dominion over space), and Giratina (the sole natural inhabitant of a mysterious alternate dimension). We also learn that Arceus’ impending arrival is also what caused the distortions in time-space in the first two parts to the trilogy. Even then, they are barely able to withstand Arceus’ ire, and it is up to Satoshi/Ash and friends to figure out the truth about the Alpha Pokemon.

The 12th Pokemon movie is decent overall and definitely the kind of thing fans of the series will enjoy, but there are some things this movie does not do all that well. First, it never gives you a good sense of just how powerful Arceus is supposed to be. Though it clashes with and overpowers a number of other legendary Pokemon, the difference between Arceus and the three dragons of Sinnoh are never made clear enough to really appreciate that gap in power and majesty. Second, and I admit this is being somewhat unfair to the movie, it just does not live up to the bar set by Mewtwo Strikes Back. I revisit the first movie every time I review a Pokemon theatrical release because I believe it represents the pinnacle of the franchise and its ability to tell stories with a surprising degree of maturity and moral complexity.

That said, Arceus – Transcend the Confines of Time and Space still succeeds in showcasing through its story elements of human behavior that are both supportive and condemning of their place on the planet, albeit in a somewhat ham-fisted manner, and it provides a lot of information on the world of Pokemon that we had not previously seen, and this is probably the most fascinating part of the movie. Although the fourth movie starring Celebi gave us a view of the past where Poke Balls were hand-cranked devices, and the eighth movie starring Lucario showed us a time before the Poke Ball was even invented and Pokemon were controlled by humans like a general controls an army, Arceus’s movie goes back further still. Here, we learn that before they were known as Pocket Monsters they were called “magical creatures,” as if to imply that the relationship between man and Pokemon changed as technology progressed, though not necessarily for the worse, as the magical creatures of ancient times could be seen forcibly controlled by restrictive harnesses. That doesn’t exactly make up for not quite living up to the movie’s potential, but it does provide a lot of food for thought.

Overall, while it definitely could have been more, it was a mostly satisfying end to this trilogy. The next movie is bringing back Lugia, who’s had a 10-movie break, and will mark the first true theatrical appearance of Ho-oh. Ho-oh holds special significance in the Pokemon anime, as its appearance always signals great changes for Satoshi/Ash, so an entire movie featuring the Rainbow Pokemon almost feels like the end of an era.

Umino Chika Spikes Water at Production IG, Kimi ni Todoke the Result

I strongly suspect that Honey and Clover creator Umino Chika, while on her way to deliver character designs for Eden of the East, decided to “spice up” the lives of the members of Production IG. How else can I explain how good Kimi ni Todoke has been?

Not to take anything away from the original creator of Kimi ni Todoke, Shiina Karuho, seeing as it’s her strong story and nice character designs that they’re working with, and certainly Production IG has always been known for its high standards of animation quality, but KnT is a beast unlike any other unleashed by the Igg (that’s how the cool people pronounce it, you know). Rather than using their expertise to make a more fleshed out and realistic-looking show, as one might expect from the studio that brought us Ghost in the Shell: SAC, what Production IG has managed to achieve is a show that truly looks shoujo in a way most anime have not, including perfectly good works such as Cardcaptor Sakura and Itazura na Kiss.

There’s a very strong understanding by the staff on this show as to when to utilize the more visually two-dimensional and emotional elements and when to incorporate a three-dimensional sense of spacing among the characters, and it, and the result is that it achieves that pastel and wispy shoujo manga feel while still making sense as an animation. In a way it reminds me of 70s-style shoujo, only with less emphasis on the melodramatic, and more technical skill on the part of the animators.

And even if you don’t care about all of that stuff I just said, note that Kimi ni Todoke is still very good, and does a good job of murdering cliches with an 80 lb. battle axe, which I will assure you is the perfect metaphor for this show. Good shoujo, from Igg to you.

“Upon Then Fighiting Master But an End is a Beginning…”

Street Fighter II is by far one of the most influential video games in history, and all but singlehandedly launched an entire genre into the forefront of the general gamer consciousness. With SFII there came a new term, “fighting game,” and with it a whole host of companies eager to jump onto the bandwagon.

Among those games is a 1991/1992 (depending on where you live) Sega Genesis game called “Fighting Masters.” Now I had Fighting Masters as a kid, and I loved the hell out of the game, but even then I knew it wasn’t up to the level of Street Fighter II. Still, as I look back on it, I maintain fond memories of the whole thing.

These days, when we see a second-rate fighting game hit the market, be it professionally or as some sort of doujin soft, we can tell that the game makers understand the basic grammar of a fighting game. Or at least, they understand the grammar of the fighting game they’re trying to imitate. Doujin fighters all want to be Melty Blood or Guilty Gear, so they have super crazy air combos and fairly simplified button layouts. Games that want to be 3-D fighters follow suit with either Tekken or Soul Calibur. However, back in the early 90s, when Street Fighter II was just knocking players’ socks off in best 2-out-of-3 matches, companies clearly were unsure of just what a fighting game was supposed to be. This is how we got Fighting Masters.

Fighting Masters features 12 galactic warriors each representing their species in a furious tournament. Their goal? Well actually, that depends on the version of Fighting Masters you have. If it was the 1991 Japan release, it was a tournament to get the chance to defeat the dreaded demon alien Valgasu. If it was the 1992 US release, it was a tournament set up by some elders to save one species from being wiped out by a supernova (while the other 11 are out of luck). Keep in mind that you  still end up fighting Valgasu anyway.

Another difference is that most of the characters had their names changed between versions. The humanoid grappler Larry became Dirk, the cyclops boxer Eyesight became Uppercut, and so on, in an effort to both un-Engrishize the text and provide names that kids in early 90s America would deem “totally radical.” The best one is arguably the horse man Equus, who was once known as Flamer, featured in the previous screenshot.

The gameplay itself is quite unique as far as fighting games go. It wasn’t trying to be a closed-off beat-em-up like, say, “Street Smart,” and its engine seems closer to that of a wrestling game. Every character has two different types of moves, striking and grappling, and your goal is to use your striking moves to stun the opponent long enough to walk up to him and perform a badass piledriver or overhead throw. In all but one case, when a character is knocked against the floor or the walls, they take additional damage. There is no blocking involved, and the game doesn’t even use one of the buttons on the 3-button Genesis controller. In the end, it makes the game awkward, and slower characters have a distinct disadvantage in that opponents can break out of stun much more easily before the slow character can reach them, but it’s still a unique system.

And that’s really the best thing about Fighting Masters. Much like how early manga was by necessity a test bed for all sorts of crazy and wild ideas, Fighting Masters tried to be a fighting game in its own unique way. In fact, I think that the engine itself has plenty of potential, and if only it was a little deeper and provided more options for the players and the characters, it could have its own cult following.

Anyway, enjoy the final boss of Fighting Masters as well as its ending. Valgasu is a very, very frustrating boss, and even though I beat him, you can tell that he can quickly turn the tables. Evident here is Valgasu’s dream of conquering the galaxy with his Mad Skillz on the court, worthy of Magic Johnson, Clyde Drexler, or the All-Star Monstars. Also of note is the text scroll upon Valgasu’s defeat, which provides some of that good old nostalgic video game Engrish that has sadly diminished ever since Japanese and American pop culture have begun to cross over.

Rating: SUPLEX 50T

Uwa…! New York Anime Festival 2009

New York Anime Festival ran on my home turf of NYC this weekend, and I was there once more to experience anime, Jacob Javits-style. The most significant parts of this convention were the fact that this would be the last year that NYAF stood on its own apart from New York Comic Con (a merged con will stand in its place next year), and that the creator of Gundam Tomino Yoshiyuki would be there. As a long-time Gundam fan, I could not ignore the fact that he was set to appear in my city. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity (unless you were at Big Apple Anime Fest years ago; then it’s a twice-in-a-lifetime opportunity).

Friday morning, I got an official NYAF tweet telling me that people were already lining up for autograph tickets, and so with a somewhat mad dash and a long train ride, I and others managed to get to the autograph line on time and obtain our golden passes. Secure in the knowledge that I would get to meet Tomino in person, I continued on through the con.

I helped run a couple of panels this year, namely the Anime Bloggers Roundtable, and Anime Recruitment. For the latter, I was mainly a tech guy, but I managed to chime in on a few subjects, and when asked about why I was a fan of anime more than other forms of media, I gave an answer that I felt satisfied the question. My response, to sum it up, was that anime and manga are capable of addressing and portraying an incredibly diverse number of topics in a way that is appealing on both a basic surface level as well as a deeper and more emotional one. Feel free to disagree.

As for the Bloggers Roundtable, it was great fun and I got to learn quite a bit from my fellow bloggers, but I hope to learn even more and really see the differences in our blogging styles come to the forefront. Ed Chavez, who came onto the stage like a surprise pro wrestler, as well as others, mentioned that he would like to see more direct interaction between bloggers and I am inclined to agree.

I also attended panels such as the Central Park Media retrospective, where I learned that John O’Donnell is a fiercely honest businessman and speed-reader, and saw representatives of Del Rey, Funimation, Vertical Inc, Bandai Entertainment, and Harmony Gold discuss the status of the anime and manga industry, ultimately coming up with the conclusion that while the industries were in trouble, this was old territory despite being on a new frontier. I also saw the US premiere of Cencoroll, a 30-minute short vaguely reminiscent of Pokemon and Alien Nine, created by just one man a la Shinkai Makoto and his first major work, Voices of a Distant Star. It was a fine work to be sure, the animation was beautiful, and the story was simple and stylish.

But I know you’re all here to learn about Tomino, or at least my own experiences with Tomino, as all the actual news aspects have been covered in spades by various news sites. In other words, I expect you to be here for the Ogiue Maniax Tomino Experience, and I assure you that it was something.

I first saw Tomino at the opening ceremonies, where he came out with the intent to cut the red ribbon and officially open the New York Anime Festival. With a big smile on his face, and a propensity for throwing peace signs, Tomino appeared and disappeared in an instant. I knew he’d be back though.

Tomino’s keynote, despite its questionable translator, addressed a number of topics, but what it mainly focused on that I found significant was the idea that movies, film as it were, could not succeed with only one person behind the wheel. Tomino emphasized again and again that making movies, making anime, was a team effort, and that one cannot suffice on emotion and desire alone. He further explained how while he did not agree with everything that Mecha Designer Ookawara Kunio and Animation Director and Character Designer Yasuhiko Yoshikazu’s philosophies entirely, it was their combined effort which made the original Mobile Suit Gundam so successful. In addition to having it contrast with the very existence of Cencoroll, what was amazing to me was seeing Tomino embrace his status as Gundam’s creator, something he was extremely hesitant to do in the past. My personal theory is that years back Tomino was bitter that he could not escape the ominous shadow that Gundam cast upon his career in animation, but when the 30-year mark hit, he came to an epiphany that made him realize that having a work you created survive and evolve for three decades is more than most creators could ever hope for. Some might say that Gundam today is a corruption of what it was, but to have something so influential to corrupt in the first place is in itself an achievement.

The next day, Tomino Q&A was in session. First the panel began with a video summary of Tomino’s greatest works, including Triton of the Sea, Space Runaway Ideon, and Overman King Gainer. The attendees, including me, sang along with as many songs as we could. It shouldn’t surprise you that I knew a lot of them (I could hear myself being the only one singing along to “Come Here! Daitarn 3”). Also, much to Patz’s chagrin, Garzey’s Wing was missing. With that over, Tomino was introduced once more and the Q&A was in full swing. Despite the plans to ask a number of questions from the ANN forums, Tomino decided to give priority to those who were in the room. You can find out the answers to all of the questions here, though I should point out that the person asking the One Year War question was asking for an “alternate” conclusion and not an “ultimate” one.

The answer that surprised and intrigued me the most was the fact that Mobile Suit Gundam’s original fanbase was actually teenage girls. In retrospect it is very easy to see why this would be the case, and I mean that in the best possible way. Next were his answers that one of the main themes in Gundam is that adults are the enemy because they’re too set in their ways, and that as an old man he is a “super enemy,” and that to get anything done in anime you need sponsors and investors. Everyone could sense the cynical Tomino, and it turns out he’s the same as the pleasant Tomino.

What was especially great though was that I managed to ask my own question, to which I received a most satisfying answer.

Q: You had worked with the late director Tadao Nagahama. Is there anything you can relate about your personal experiences with him?

TOMINO: I worked with director Nagahama for several years before Gundam, and what I learned from him was the sense of right in stories aimed towards children. When creating works for children, it should not be biased in one way or another or leaning more in a political sense, but to provide a very pure and good story.

It’s different from the response Ishiguro gave at Otakon 2009, but I expected that and I learned a lot from that brief statement.

The panel then ended with a showing of a 5-minute clip from Tomino’s Ring of Gundam. Overall, the Q&A was a rousing success, though I wish there were more non-Gundam questions asked.

Outside of the actual con itself, a number of friends and I did some con-esque activities that made the weekend more fun as a whole. On the Thursday prior to NYAF, we watched the Eureka Seven movie, and learned that half the dub cast has trouble sounding convincing or serious. We also learned that the voice director tries his best to avoid calling E7 a “cartoon.” On Friday, we had the most Japanese of foods, Go Go Curry, and then spent the evening laying out some Most Serious Karaoke along with the likes of the Reverse Thieves, One Great Turtle, and others. Sub and I discovered that they actually had “Kanjite Knight,” and it rocked so hard we had to sing it twice. This will easily be a part of our karaoke repertoire from now on. A few trips to the Japanese bookstores of NYC were also made, where I rediscovered the Hulk Hogan manga I gave away years ago. This time, it’s definitely getting scanned.

New York Anime Festival is very unique in terms of its panel and events scheduling, in that there tends to be very few panel rooms and opportunities to see someone speak, but what is there is definitely a big hit and immensely enjoyable. I did not attend the AKB48 or Makino Yui concerts, for example, but I’m sure fans of each had a good time. What ends up happening as a result is that you get these long periods of having nothing to do except maybe go around the dealer’s room, or just sit around with friends (and luckily the Jacob Javits Center has plenty of places to sit), and actually recommend this as a way to just enjoy the con without enjoying the con. In my case, I also watched Starcraft matches as part of the World Cyber Games USA finals to pass the time (congratulations to Greg “Idra” Fields for winning WCG USA, and getting a chance to play some of the most fierce Korean pros in Starcraft history). Overall though, the panel situation is quite different from Otakon, where you feel compelled to run around to get to the next panel and have to decide on what not to attend. Things will be different next year of course.

And what of my autograph session? When I handed my DVD box to Tomino, he looked at it for a second, and as if his mental dissonance was correcting himself, he suddenly exclaimed, “Uwa…!” Then he inscribed his name, and handed me one of my most valuable possessions ever.

I can see the good times.

Donburiya: The Place for Donburi

In the past I’ve talked about a small Japanese-style curry shop in Manhattan called Go Go Curry, which serves a very authentically Japanese yet very unique take on the classic dish, and I tout it as one of my favorite restaurants to eat at for under $10. This time though, we’re gonna bump up the price past the $10 point and talk about another place that I’ve become fond of. This place also serves curry, but its main specialties are big bowls of rice with various other ingredients known as donburi. And thus, the name of the restaurant: Donburiya.

Located in Manhattan on 47th Ave between Lexington and 3rd Ave, every person I’ve ever known that has gone to Donburiya, including myself, has come away completely satisfied. The rice is perfect. The meat is perfect. Everything is as delicious as delicious can be, though in a way different from Go Go Curry. If Go Go Curry is like a high-quality mac & cheese place, then Donburiya is like a top-level classy diner serving the best burgers.

So far I’ve tried the Oyako Don (chicken and egg), the Yakiniku Don (beef and egg), and the Unatama Don (eel and egg), and all have been extremely memorable. I’ve also had their onigiri, which have also been tasty and satisfying.

There’s other things on the menu too, but while I do plan on trying their curry, the ochazuke takes priority for next time.

Brilliance of Life, Billions of Stars: Rintaro’s Galaxy Express 999

Whenever I am asked to list my favorite anime of all time, I unequivocally give the same answer: the Galaxy Express 999 movie. Released in 1979 and directed by Rintaro, I first watched it theatrically many, many years later, when I was about 16 years old. Galaxy Express 999 is instrumental in defining my artistic style, my desire to pursue anime and manga beyond what is at the forefront of fandom consciousness, and my general love of strong, emotional storytelling of the kind that cares less for intricate details and more for conveying the inner feelings of characters.

Galaxy Express 999 was originally a manga by famed author Matsumoto Leiji, and was later adapted into a TV series, some movies, and multiple spin-offs. In almost every case, the basic setting is a future where intergalactic travel is possible through the use of high-tech spacecrafts designed to look like the trains of old. Of these, the most famous is the Galaxy Express 999, a mock steam engine which takes its passengers to the Andromeda Galaxy where they can obtain a mechanical body and live forever. One person who desires to board the 999 is a young vagabond of a boy named Hoshino Tetsurou, whose poverty prevents him from obtaining a train pass for the 999. A chance meeting with Maetel, a woman clad in all black with blonde tresses reaching down to her ankles, gives him the opportunity, but as he visits planet after planet he begins to realize that life and immortality are not so simple after all.

Plot-wise, the 999 movie is no exception, though for the sake of time the story is greatly simplified. Instead of visiting dozens of planets, Tetsurou and Maetel visit fewer than ten. The result is that the voyage is not as long, and thus the theme of maturing from boyhood to manhood does not resonate quite as strongly, but in exchange the story is a little more focused, and a lot easier to digest; 2 hours is a lot less time than the 110 half-hour episodes which comprised the TV series.

On an artistic level, the 999 movie is neck-deep in its 70s origins. This is no small part due to the original source material, but it extends far beyond being a cut-and-dry visual adaptation of the manga, adding many abstract, mildly psychedelic elements to scenes.  For example, as the 999 travels along, the bright yellow windows along the sides of each rail car can be seen cutting through space, adding to the melancholy and wonder of the movie’s atmosphere. The acting is at its finest as well, with Nozawa Masako (Tetsurou) and Ikeda Masako (Maetel) giving some of their finest performances ever. Ikeda’s most famous role of all time is undoubtedly Maetel, and when you hear the subtle complexity and the aura of mystery in her voice, you will understand why. Along with a somewhat disparate yet sensible mix of orchestral scores and 70s pop and disco for a soundtrack, Galaxy Express 999 exudes a mostly romantic view of the future tinged by stark and poignant commentaries on the condition of life and humanity, commentaries that occur in the story itself as well as in the core aesthetics of the movie.

Of course, the movie is not without its faults or peculiarities. Though designed to be a greatly shortened version of Galaxy Express 999, it still feels to some extent like a series of smaller stories strung together, creating a very loose sense of cohesion in the narrative. Also, while certain popular Matsumoto characters make cameo appearances, their presence may confuse some viewers unfamiliar with them. And for those who expect a movie about travel to feature some unexpected detours, this is not really the case with 999, which basically stays “on the rails”: an appropriate feature for a movie about an interstellar train to have, but perhaps one that would not be so popular among people hoping for a major derail. As I said at the beginning though, Galaxy Express 999 concerns itself less with weaving an intricate tapestry of a story and more with filling you with a mix of powerful emotions and human themes.

I remember that, upon finishing this movie for the first time, I realized my jaw was wide open; that’s how much it amazed me and drew me into its world. Having watched the movie again recently, I became very aware of just how much I’d changed since I saw it, and as a result of having seen it all those years ago. Life, much like the titular train of the movie, is a one-way trip, and even if you revisit the old stops, you’ll realize that you’re not the same person you once were.

Check Out My Ponyo Review

For the past month or so I’ve been writing articles for the site Otaku Crush, and my latest article there is a review of Miyazaki’s Ponyo on the Cliff.

Otaku Crush’s site is still in beta, but feel free to check it out. It’s a dating site devoted to getting people with the common interests of anime and manga together, though you don’t have to sign up to read any of the news posts or essays.

Feel free to check out the rest of what I’ve written so far. Also, while I cannot really say anything about the dating aspect of the site (having never used it and all), if you feel it’s a good opportunity for you, you can also sign up. At the moment, it’s free of charge.

There’s So Much Teamwork, You Might as Well Call Them Hajime Yatate: Gundam Perfect Mission

So have you seen the fancy new Gundam 30th Anniversary “Perfect Mission” Video? It features the original Core Fighter being helped along by various Gundams from throughout the franchise until it reaches its destination and forms into the RX-78-2. It’s  one of the finest Gundam crossovers ever that’s not also a video game.

What I particularly like about this two-minute video is how it doesn’t really try to play favorites with the Gundams, outside of choosing which specific Gundam to represent each series. Despite SEED Destiny’s shortcomings for example, the Destiny Gundam is given its due. Wing Zero and Wing Zero Custom are displayed side by side to represent both Gundam Wing and Endless Waltz. There isn’t even any preference given to order; it’s not chronological or even in-universe chronological. All Gundams are presented as equals.

And though I say it’s the best non-video game crossover in Gundam history, I gotta hope that future Super Robot Wars games might utilize the “Perfect Mission” Combination Attack to rival the Final Dynamic Special and the Choudenji Reppuu Seikenzuki.

The Hardships of Raising a Child in the Ghetto: District 9

A few days ago I saw the new movie District 9. Having passively avoided all of the explicit advertising for the movie that would explain any of the story at all, I came in with fresh eyes, and by the time it was over I felt pretty amazed. The movie takes a variety of unusual elements and ideas, such as its balanced blend of strong science fiction elements in a real-world setting of sorts, as well as its documentary-style camera work and uses them to approach a variety of themes, from fatherhood to xenophobia. However, for all of its scope, it is ultimately is a very personal and very emotional story, and that is what makes the movie so strong. It takes all of these wild and disparate elements, presents them naturally, and then tells a surprisingly localized tale of a man not knowing what will become of him. In other words, much like Up, it shares a lot in common with many of the best anime titles.

While not a strength exclusive to anime, I’ve always felt that this recurring ability to take very unorthodox plot settings, be they science fiction or otherwise, and tell a very emotional story with them is one of the hallmarks of Japanese animation and one of the key ingredients to drawing in new fans and keeping them there. As is the case in District 9, when done well or even half-decently, the various parts of the story do not fight each other for your attention.

One might say that the very idea of doing any sort of complex story and having it be a cartoon is unorthodox enough of a setting, but it might also be the case that such unusual trappings and the meat contained therein is generally helped by the stylistic coherency that comes with making something animated. Generally I say, because as you can see there’s a movie called District 9 which manages to do it all with real actors.

On a final note, I’d just like to say that the CG characters themselves were also fantastic and arguably better than the humans. The level of attention they were given is something the Transformers movie franchise should learn from.

Moe Anime Girl Gets Pregnant, Has Baby – Jigopuri Volume 1

Kio Shimoku is a manga author who is best known for his work on the 9-volume Genshiken series, about the members of a college anime/manga club. It’s personally my favorite manga series ever. It may come as a surprise then to know that Kio’s latest manga, Jigopuri: The Princess of the Hell, concerns itself with a topic normally far-removed from that of watching anime: Teen Pregnancy.

Well, not teen pregnancy per se, but it does center around a widowed 18 year old mother and her newborn child. The mother is Okiura Ayumi, her daughter is Okiura Yumeko, and living with them is Ayumi’s twin sister Hino Kaname. The raising and nurturing of young Yumeko, who is less than one week old when we first see her, is the central focus of Jigopuri, and the manga’s approach to a topic which is incredibly common in the real world but incredibly rare in comics is rather unique.

Despite its realistic tone and content, the art style of Jigopuri is closer to that of Kujibiki Unbalance than it is Genshiken, and it might be difficult to reconcile the fact that doe-eyed moe anime girls are discussing topics such as diaper-changing and the unbearable stress that comes part and parcel with raising a newborn. What can be even more jarring is the fact that Yumeko is drawn in a rather realistic style, more closely resembling a photograph than a kawaii anime infant.

No, Yumeko is not an ideal entertainment baby who is ten parts adorable and one part cuddles. She is a wrinkly, crying, pooping baby who needs attendance at all times because she’s a baby. Everything revolves around this fact, from the deliberately slow pacing of story (chapters generally span only a single day) to the way it handles all of its seemingly incongruous artistic elements, and understanding why Yumeko is portrayed in this manner is the key to understanding Jigopuri.

From the start, Jigopuri puts a young, inexperienced mother with no time or desire for romance in the spotlight, and in doing so makes Ayumi, and by extension the whole of Jigopuri, into something partially meant to stand against the tide of common trends seen in moe anime and manga. Although Ayumi at times feels helpless, it is never because she can’t do anything, but rather because she does so much. That doesn’t mean Jigopuri condemns moe, but it does remove much of the glamor and fetishism that accompanies many tropes of modern anime and manga. Nowhere is this more evident than in the comic’s portrayal of breasts.

As one might expect out of Jigopuri, breastfeeding occurs frequently, but the sight of an attractive woman exposing her large, shapely breasts (with nipples shown) begins to lose its erotic appeal once you are made aware of how inevitably their appearance is attached to the shrill cry of Yumeko as she wakes a sleep-deprived Ayumi up in the middle of the night. After a while, you begin to really feel for Ayumi, as you think to yourself, “She has to take out her breasts again?” And further cementing this un-fetishizing is the fact that Ayumi’s breasts are visibly veiny, an effect achieved through smart use of screen tones, and an indicator that these are not the idealized breasts you’d see in other works willing to show them with the same frequency as Jigopuri.

That’s Jigopuri as of Volume 1, and I really do recommend it, though I understand it’s not for everyone. Its cutesy art style combined with its realistic content can throw people off quite a bit, but if you can read Japanese or if it comes out in English, I think you should give it a chance.

A common sight in Jigopuri is a tired and weary Ayumi with deep bags underneath her eyes, a sign that each day wears on her even if she truly loves her daughter.