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.

Ogiue Maniax and the Reverse Thieves Talk Otakon on Ani-Gamers

A while back I was on the Ani-Gamers podcast along with the Reverse Thieves where we talked about our experiences at Otakon 2009 this past July in Baltimore. There’s some overlap with my written review of the invent, but I invite you to listen anyway and hear us crack wise in Real Time.

This episode of Ani-Gamers can be found here.

Anne of Green Gables: It’s the most wonderful story of an orphaned girl whose life is changed when she is adopted and gets to live on a beautiful farm with birds singing and glorious trees full of splendid color and she meets a girl and they become best friends. Ah, how I wish I could be her! Why, everyday I would

World Masterpiece Theater is a very long-running series in Japan, where famous stories from around the world are adapted into television anime series. Even today new series are running under the World Masterpiece Theater banner, and in practically every case it’s produced a series loved by many and considered to be of the finest quality in Japanese animation. One particularly exceptional series comes to us from 1979: Anne of Green Gables. Adapted from the novel of the same title by Lucy Maud Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables, or “Akage no Anne” as it’s called in Japan, is the story of a young orphan named Anne Shirley and the positive impact she makes upon the life of a pair of elderly siblings, Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert, as well as the little Canadian town of Avonlea in which they live.

Now, I’ve never read any of the novels and never really planned to, but two factors piqued my interest enough to watch the anime. First was the fact that it is so well-regarded in Japan, and second was that it bears one of the more remarkable pedigrees in anime history. The director and first layout artist for Anne are two names you might recognize: Takahata Isao and Miyazaki Hayao. They are the two men who would a few years later found Studio Ghibli, perhaps the most respected and highly acclaimed Japanese animation studio of all time. Also on board were Kondou Yoshifumi on character designs and Sakurai Michiyo, who would take over from Miyazaki on layout. The two would go on to do key animation for various Ghibli titles such as Kiki’s Delivery Service and Porco Rosso (Yoshifumi), Castle in the Sky Laputa (Sakurai), and even direct for Ghibli (Yoshifumi on Whisper of the Heart). Both also did key animation for Grave of the Fireflies. Simply put, this show did not suffer from a lack of talent.

While this was not the first time the duo of Takahata and Miyazaki had worked together, nor was it the first time they had done any World Masterpiece titles, Anne of Green Gables is one of the best examples of what they were able to accomplish. Anne of Green Gables takes full advantage of its fairly episodic format by making each and every episode a joy to watch either on its own or in large chunks of multiple episodes. It makes the show approachable at any stage, and the show becomes a pleasant yet compelling experience, especially when you factor in Anne Shirley herself. Anne, who introduces herself as “Anne with an E but I’d rather be called Cordelia,” is a shining example of a main character who just carries a story. All of the other characters are good too, mind you, from Anne’s best friend Diana to the rascally Gilbert Blythe, but her name’s in the title for a reason.

Anne’s most endearing trait is probably her tendency to get caught up in her own imagination. When combined with her love of storytelling, it results in seemingly endless declarations of love and hate, with flares of drama or comedy or passion depending on how she’s feeling and where her sentence construction is taking her. Anne is never satisfied with a simple story, and will turn even simple lies into elaborate tales just to fulfill her sense of the dramatic. Give her one episode and you’ll be likely be drawn into her world.

Anne of Green Gables is not only one of the most beloved novels of all time but also one of the most beloved anime of all time. Just this very year, the prequel novel Before Green Gables was adapted into a currently-running TV series to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the original anime. 30 years is a long time, but Anne of Green Gables has aged very gracefully. Kannagi director Yamamoto Yutaka said at one of his Otakon 2009 panels that he considers Anne to be the best example of how to do a long television anime series, and while I cannot say it is the best, it certainly sets a good precedent. In fact, my only real regret with this series is that we are no longer able to see Miyazaki and Takahata use their talents on television series, as they’ve moved on to feature films and almost nothing else.

Anne of Green Gables has a level of quality and accessibility that few anime can live up to, and just as the original novel still carries relevance today, so too does Akage no Anne.

Did You Listen to Me the First Time? I Said, “Watch Shin Mazinger”

Back when Shin Mazinger first began, I told everyone to go check it out based purely on the strength of its first episode. I assume some of you followed my advice, but there are probably many readers who were still unsure. Maybe they checked out the first episode (which acts like a final episode), and got too confused. Well, with over half of the series finished at this point I am back to tell you once again and emphatically to take some time out to watch Shin Mazinger Shougeki!! Z-Hen.

The director Imagawa, famous for Giant Robo and G Gundam, among others, does not make the story unwatchable for those who are unfamiliar with the Mazinger series of classic and pivotal giant robot anime. Every character that matters is introduced as if you’ve never seen them at all, and many of the characters weren’t even originally in the Mazinger Z manga or anime! Now, Imagawa has a tendency to pull characters from other works loosely related to the source material in question, but it’s never done in a Marvel comics kind of way where they refer you back to a previous comic book release to get all the details. No worries there.

Unlike what many would expect, there isn’t a giant robot fight scene every episode, which I know disappoints some, but know that what’s really happening is a buildup to an even better fight later on in the series. This happens again, and again, and again. On top of that, each fight is choreographed and animated surprisingly well, especially when it seems like the show was (and possibly still is) operating on a very limited budget. No matter what’s going on, you can expect a certain degree of high quality.

As for the story itself, Shin Mazinger plays out like a children’s story as one might expect based on its source material, but it’s done with a strong sense of sophistication and respect for what it means to be a children’s story, with enough twists to make it watchable for its new intended audience of older viewers. It’s not like Alan Moore who is all, “Well what if we took superheroes and made them crazy and grim and realistic?” If Imagawa were to do super hero comics, he would ask, “Well what if we took real life, and made it more like super hero comics?” That’s pretty much where Shin Mazinger comes from.

If you’re still hesitant about watching Shin Mazinger, you should maybe check out the episode reviews of it over at Subatomic Brainfreeze, as Sub is all about HYPING it up.

We’ll Pull Through Somehow: Onanie Master Kurosawa

Tell me if you’ve heard this one before: A young man is an outcast among his peers, and he spends each day barely interacting with them. When he’s alone though, his true personality emerges, and he makes grand displays of superiority, insisting that he is above everyone else.

Here’s the twist: Our intrepid hero is proving his superiority by masturbating daily in the girls’ bathroom.

And now here’s the second, vital twist: The story ends up, against all odds, actually being really good.

That is Onanie Master Kurosawa (Onanie meaning masturbation), a 4-volume doujin work which goes from being a sort of parody of Death Note and Code Geass-type manga, to a recounting of characters not unlike Anonymous messageboard posters who lash out at the world in pointless and self-destructive ways, to a stark and heartfelt look at redemption and growing up and, well, acknowledging the mistakes of your youth. Most likely what happened was that the creators, Ise Katsura and Yoko, realized that they couldn’t just keep milking the same gag (no pun intended…maybe), and that it needed something extra, something dramatic.

And the most amazing thing of all is how well the comic transitions from absurd comedy into down-to-earth drama. It’s something many a webcomic have attempted, with few ever succeeding. For one thing, Onanie Master Kurosawa transitions far better than Megatokyo did, and I suspect it might not be even be a fair comparison.

That’s not to say Onamas (as it’s called by fans) is without its faults. The transition was surprisingly good, but it did have quite a few bumps along the way, and for those who aren’t comfortable with that change in content it might not be an enjoyable read. Also the art is good but not fantastic, which when I think about it is hardly a negative, as it were. Like Megatokyo above and even parts of Nausicaa, the artwork is done primarily in pencil, which may seem sloppy.

The entire series has been scanlated, so go check it out. Raws are available as well, and if you can understand Japanese better than you can read it, the Nico Nico Douga Onanie Master Kurosawa Community has uploaded some dramatic readings.

Detroit Metal Tiny Podunk Village: Amateur Wrestling Ken-chan

Before manga author Wakasugi Kiminori created his most famous work, Detroit Metal City, he created a gag comic called Amateur Wrestling Ken-chan. Seeing it at Book Off one day, and seeing that it was just a single volume, I decided to pick it up. Having read it now, I can say that Wakasugi has improved tremendously by the time he began working on DMC.

The basic premise of Ken-chan is that a high school student named Nagano Kenpei is convinced/forced to join the amateur wrestling team at his school. Among his teammates are a fat kid, a creepy goth, and a homoerotic yet athletically fit wrestling ace who faints in ecstasy whenever his nipples are grazed. Kenpei is similar to Negishi Souichi, the protagonist of DMC, in that he’s a weak kid with a far-off love interest who he just can’t seem to make a move on. However, unlike Negishi, Kenpei is in many ways an irredeemable human being, and is thoroughly unlikable as a main character. You never actually cheer for Kenpei and his blackened heart. Instead, if there’s anyone you would cheer for, it’s the incredibly hairy half-Russian wrestling coach and silver medalist Numata Puchkoff. He’s a dumb yet earnest guy who wants to help the kids do their best, even if they have no real motivation and never get any for the entire duration of the manga.

Despite its name, Amateur Wrestling Ken-chan has almost nothing to do with amateur wrestling, and instead mainly focuses on how pathetic Kenpei and the rest of the characters are, and a whole lot of toilet humor involving dumb girls, mighty breasts, and raging boners. Is it funny? Sometimes. Is it so funny that if you see it in the store it’s a must-get? Certainly not, but it’s just a single volume.

Ken-chan, while clearly coming from the same author as DMC, is much less refined compared to the exciting tales of faux-rape by Johannes Krauser II, and is simply less good overall, but that shouldn’t really surprise anyone. In fact, it probably didn’t, as Ken-chan pretty much ends unresolved, implying that it was canceled pretty early on.

On the bellyband of the book is a message from Krauser II, which says, “If I had met a teacher like this, I would not have become the Demon Lord I am!” Is that a positive endorsement or a negative one? Who knows!

Example from the manga below, arguably NSFW. I’ve included it after the cut just in case.

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