My Anime Regions

Born and raised in the US, having studied in Japan about 5 years ago, and currently living in the Netherlands, I consider myself quite fortunate to have been on three different continents for long periods, enough to say that I wasn’t simply a tourist. The benefits have been many, but the one that is perhaps most important to me is that I’ve gained a bit of perspective on how things work differently from country to country. As an otaku, this of course applies to my pursuit of anime and manga as well, and so I want to just talk about my own firsthand experiences in this regard.

Before I go into detail though, I think it’s important to highlight a few points about myself:

First, my English is my native language, and I have studied Japanese for a number of years and am reasonably fluent in it. I cannot read any other languages to any decent extent, and I can only understand one other when spoken.

Second, my available “access points” varied from place to place, meaning television, internet, etc. Also, I was in Japan before streaming anime became a big deal, whereas currently I am living through the age of the official streaming simulcast alongside everyone else. Well, sort of, but I’ll get into that later.

United States

Now because I’m native to the United States, I’ve seen my fair share of how anime/manga and its surrounding fandom and industry have changed over time, but as I’m not looking to make this a history lesson I’m going to mainly focus on the state of obtaining anime from about 2005-2010. In that period, whether it was in college or back home, I had cable television and high-speed internet, as well as the fortune of living in a city with Japanese book stores (or at least a Japanese grocery when it came to college). I used the TV and internet to varying degrees to satiate my desire for anime, and as my Japanese improved I was encouraged to start buying manga in Japanese as they tended to be less expensive even with import mark-up, especially if they were used books.

Even ignoring the untranslated titles, anime and manga have been quite accessible, whether it’s through downloading, Cartoon Network’s (increasingly sparse) anime line-up, or just going to the Barnes & Noble to pick up a volume of something. Companies are currently trying to increase their internet presence, with more and more titles, including older ones that are no longer available otherwise, being streamed on sites such as Hulu and Crunchyroll. The genres available were and are surprisingly diverse, particularly when it comes to manga, though they don’t cover everything Japan has to offer, just because some things simply do not sell in the US (and some titles that were released certainly did not either).

It’s important to note that anime took quite a long time to get big, and it was only really with the advent of Pokemon that it became such a big deal. While it’s come quite a long way, it’s still considered quite a “niche” thing, and a lot of works which can survive in Japan based on overall higher readership there will most likely tank in the US. Anime as “anime” is still quite young compared to the rest of the world. Anime and manga are definitely accessible in the America, it just takes a bit of effort to really sink yourself in, and although it takes a while to feel the limitations in genre, you may eventually feel it. Also remember that the US is big, and that my experience can be quite different from someone living in, say, the Midwest.

Japan

In Japan I had television but no reliable internet, and while I hear that most otaku in Japan use a Tivo, I unfortunately did not own one, which meant that I had to follow the official schedule in order to keep up. While it could be trying at times, there was a certain thrill in planning my days around the TV broadcasts. The fact that Futari wa Pretty Cure Max Heart and Zoids: Genesis ran simultaneously on two different stations meant I had to choose, which is something that has never really been an issue with anime fandom in the US, at it was rare that two stations would be showing anime at the exact same time. I myself didn’t have to deal with this since the days when Pokemon would chase Digimon out of its time slots. If there was a show on late at night that I really wanted to catch, say, Glass Mask, I would go to sleep early so that I could wake up at 1 or 2am, watch it, and then go right back to sleep. I also remember getting home from a trip to Akihabara, pedaling hard as I could so that I wouldn’t miss the beginning of Gundam SEED Destiny. That also reminds me of when I had faith in Gundam SEED Destiny. Those were innocent times.

(By the way, I chose Pretty Cure).

Manga though, it’s hard to live in Japan and not see comics available for sale. In addition to larger bookstores and specialty shops, you could find the latest manga magazines in convenience stores, your Jumps and Sundays and such. While those stores didn’t carry everything, you could still find some surprising titles; it was through a convenience store that I found the Hulk Hogan manga. The ubiquity of manga was especially advantageous for just sheer exposure: by buying just a few magazines you could get a pretty wide range of works, from good to otherwise.

One unique advantage I had while in Japan was that I had access to the library of the school at which I was studying abroad, which meant access to their extensive collection of anime on DVD. Nowadays it’s not that hard to go online and find all these obscure titles, but back in 2005 this library’s DVD collection went well beyond what was fansubbed (and probably still does today), with series such as Zambot 3 and Tetsujin 28 in their entirety. I know I just picked two robot titles too, but trust me when I say there was more.

So when it came to anime or manga, despite my internet situation I probably had more titles available to me than I ever had before or since. The only trouble of course is that it’s all in Japanese, and while my Japanese is good I’m still not comfortable with it, let alone comfortable with it five or six years ago despite the rapid improvement that living in Japan itself caused. In any case, the main point to take away here is how easy it was to just be surrounded by the stuff.

The Netherlands

A few months ago, Irish anime podcaster Eeeper wrote this letter where he pointed out the difficulties in being a European anime fan, particularly in this current age where anime is officially streamed. Before I arrived in Europe, I could see his point and could agree, but it was only after I actually started living here that I could really feel it.

Having high-speed internet but no TV here, online is mainly how I watch things. When it comes to the streaming of anime, Europe seems to get left out pretty often. The entirety of Hulu is off-limits save for a single, terrible-looking show (not anime in case you’re wondering). Funimation’s video site automatically redirects to a generic company page. This is something I previously only really experienced when I couldn’t watch the official Japanese-only episodes of Bakemonogatari on their official site. It’s not all bad, as some shows on Crunchyroll work just fine. However, others do not, and you get these really odd situations, like how Naruto Shippuden is available for me to watch but the original Naruto is region-blocked. The fact that I just came from the US, where I recently watched all of Kekkaishi and Slayer Revolution (and Evolution-R) on Hulu, makes me very aware of this disparity. That said, internet here is quite fast and what I can watch I get in a flash.

Manga is a bit of a different situation. In terms of the internet, no official sites as far as I can tell have blocked their manga from European access. In terms of actual physical books, comic stores aren’t amazingly common in the Netherlands, but cities are generally small enough that you don’t need too many, and cities with more comic stores are only a short train ride away. Going to Amsterdam takes about half an hour, which is longer than it took me to get to Manhattan, and the selection of manga (as well as European comics) can be surprisingly extensive, usually taking the form of English-translated titles  imported from the US or Dutch-language books. One interesting thing to note is that some titles get translated into Dutch before they are translated in English, possibly owing to the fact that manga and anime have had a strong presence in Europe way before the “anime boom” ever hit the United States. In fact, a friend told me that Urasawa’s works were available in Dutch way before they were in US bookstores. It might also have to do with the proximity to Belgium, which has its own rich comics history and influences the regions around.

On that note, one big difference with the Netherlands and Europe more generally is that everything is more packed together. While traveling by train in Japan is somewhat comparable to doing so in the Netherlands, Japan is still an island, while going from where I live to Belgium, an entirely different country, is a mere 3-hour train ride. Europe also gets a good deal of titles that the US does not, but they’re mainly for people who speak French and alas neither I nor Eeeper (I assume) are capable of this feat.

Final Thoughts

So there’s a bit of my anime experience across three countries. I of course cannot speak for every anime fan who has lived in the countries I have, let alone the countries where I have never set foot, but I hope that this post helps to bring a bit of understanding to fans around the world, to see the varying circumstances that affect our fellow fans. If you want to chime in with your own experiences for any country/area that I did not cover, feel free.

The Powder Keg That is Three-Player Mahjong

Looking to take a break from my typical online mahjong sessions without straying too far, I’ve begun dabbling in 3-Player Japanese Mahjong. It is arguably both more stressful and less stressful than 4-Player, and I wanted to just jot down my thoughts on the gameplay and dynamics of 3P mahjong.

Just to get my bias out of the way upfront, I find 3P mahjong to be inferior to 4P, and its primary strength is as a backup measure in case you can’t get a fourth player. Despite that, it is still very fun and captures much of the mahjong spirit, especially when you’re playing with some rad personages.

3P Mahjong is an incredibly volatile game, and this is primarily due to three reasons. First, is the revised role of the North (Pei) tiles. With no fourth player, North is considered a “neutral” wind, and now carries with it an additional property: if you have a Pei in your hand, you can exchange it for another tile. In doing so, you also gain an additional dora for every Pei you come across. Like all dora, these North dora cannot be the catalyst for a winning hand, but they can bolster one that’s already able to win. Incidentally, if you draw your winning tile due to exchanging a Pei, it counts as Rinshan Kaihou, only it’s better because you also have the inherent dora from the Pei itself. Rinshan Kaihou being her signature move and all, I’m sure Miyanaga Saki would have a blast with 3P.

Second, is that the game removes the Character (Man) tiles numbering 2 through 8.  With only the 1-man and 9-man remaining, this makes players far more likely to draw tiles of the same suit, a high probability made even higher when you remember that there is 1 less player than normal. Honitsu (Half Flushes) are incredibly common, and the normally fairly difficult-to-achieve and more valuable Chinitsu (Full Flush) is often well within the range of possibilities. It’s also the only time I have ever seen anyone get a Honroutou (only 1’s, 9’s, and Honors) or a Chinroutou (only 1’s and 9’s), as the removal of 2-Man through 8-Man means they don’t get in the way of those hands from forming.

Third, is the fact that 3P mahjong indeed has one less player than normal, so useful tiles have a higher likelihood of reaching you. When combined with the comparative ease of forming high-value hands and the boost given by North dora, and you have the volatile scenario of which I spoke. The game almost always reaches a situation where everyone’s sitting there with an absurdly valuable hand and everyone has the tiles everyone else needs to win. Of course, that means that just as you poised and ready to declare your victory and watch your score skyrocket, so are your opponents, and greed can definitely be your undoing. Also, as everyone has a greater chance of achieving tenpai generally, if you happen to have a particularly worthless hand in a round it hurts a lot more than it does in 4P mahjong.

The game does have some factors to balance out the precariousness of 3P mahjong, namely the prohibition of stealing tiles to complete a straight (chii), and the fact that everyone starts off with 35,000 points instead of 25,000 points. The former keeps hands from being completed too easily, and the latter acts as somewhat of a buffer against the frequency at which powerful hands appear. Just to give you an idea, I actually got a yakuman (32,000 point) hand once, and I still ended up placing in 2nd by the end. Still, I feel like these countermeasures aren’t quite enough, and while I generally enjoy having luck be a factor in my games, 3P mahjong feels like it has just a little too much luck and not enough things to mitigate damage in a bad luck situation the way 4P mahjong does. It gets your blood pumping.

The last thing I want to mention is the modification to scoring, where you get more points for having someone deal into your hand than you do from drawing the tile yourself, which never happens in 4P mahjong (Ron haneman is worth 12,000 while Tsumo haneman is only 9,000). In addition to being an interesting contrast with Chinese mahjong styles where self-draw is way more powerful than winning off of someone else’s discard, it also enhances the high-pressure feeling of 3p mahjong.

The Man in the Moe

“If the emphasis in moe anime is on the female characters, where does that leave the male characters?”

I asked myself that question, and after some deliberation it turned into, “What do you look for in male characters in moe anime?” I want to turn the question to you the reader as well, provided you’re someone who has enjoyed moe anime in the past, even if you’re not necessarily a fan. Keep in mind that I don’t mean that the male characters themselves have to be “moe,” but just that they exist within those types of anime. If you want to extend the question to yuri shows as well, that is also okay.

For me, the first thing that popped into my head was Maria-sama ga Miteru, namely the all-male student council that exists outside of the all-girl school where Marimite primarily takes place. Marimite has a heavy emphasis on female characters, so when one of those male council members, Takada Megane, talks about how he loves to work out and eat meat all while flexing at the girls, it really stands out. It’s as if Takada and his muscles are inadvertently shattering the yuri-heavy atmosphere of Marimite, and the first time I saw him I thought, “Yes, you are the best male character in this show.” Applying that back to my own question, it makes me think that while I definitely enjoy Marimite for what it is (and own almost all of it on DVD), I like the idea that there exists something a little beyond the world of the girls, even if it’s not that far removed, and male characters who act kind of contrary to that setting actually serve to emphasize the feel of Marimite.

One concern I have is a possible philosophy that the male characters in such series don’t matter, as I feel that even if they’re out of the spotlight they can have a huge impact on the work itself.

So what do you think?

Aokimura Would Be Proud of My Mahjong

Three months after my unceremonious descent in online mahjong rankings, I have managed to not only claw my way back to my original ranking, but also surpass it and move up to the next level. I am now a “3-Dan” on Tenhou, and I’ve learned a few lessons since September. Hopefully I keep them in mind so I don’t drop down again.

As much as it would appall Akagi, trying to go up the ranks on Tenhou encourages fairly safe and conservative play. The only way to actually lose points and risk dropping down is to get last place, so while being 1st is ideal, being 3rd isn’t so bad either as it means you are as far as you were last game. At the end of the day, if 1st place is way out in front, it’s generally not worth it to try and make a desperate counterattack, as it might just land you in 4th, something that has happened to me on many, many occasions.

In one match I was in 4th place in the last round. However, I was less than 1000 points behind 3rd place, and in this final round 3rd place was also East, meaning that if he wins he gets more but if another player wins by self-draw then he pays a higher price. So after seeing another player Reach, I simply abandoned my chances of winning and counted on that player drawing his winning tile, as it would allow me to barely get 3rd without doing anything. That’s exactly what happened in the end and I got away without losing any ranking points just by, as Sub likes to put it, “playing to not lose.” It was kind of dirty, but that was the reality of the situation.

Watch out though, as aiming for not-4th can be a trap in itself, as you can end up in a situation where you’re behind and desperately aiming for anything to keep you in the game, which in turn can make you prone to rash decisions. This is pretty much what killed me when I first dropped back down to 1-Dan, as you have the disadvantage of not only of letting your emotions get in the way but also giving up too soon. Doing so may even blind you from the fact that you could win if only you had the patience and clarity of mind to see that.

Though it might seem to contradict what I said about aiming to not lose, it’s actually all just a part of gauging your situation at all times. Let’s say you’re in 4th place. Ask yourself, in my current situation, what would it take to get in 1st? What’s the point difference? How likely is it for me to get a hand that can overcome that difference? If there’s no hope, what are my options then?

Now keep in mind that this is doesn’t have to be cold, hard logic. You don’t have to be calculating statistics, and can even be based on how the game feels at the moment. A small loss in points isn’t as bad as losing a lot of points, and if you’ve lost a lot of points you could always potentially drag down 3rd place. And if you drag down 3rd, you might be in range to get 2nd. There’s room for optimism, however small.

So while Akagi obviously scoffs at “digital” mahjong, that is, a style based on analyzing ratios instead of playing based on “feel,” it’s clear that going up the ranks in Tenhou isn’t all related to probability. Just as you’re trying to claw your way up to 1st, so is everyone else, and inevitably there are human traits to exploit, be they greed, fear, or even relying too much on statistics.

Though deep down, I feel like this is my limit when it comes to online mahjong. At 3-dan, getting 4th place actually makes you lose more points than you would gain if you had gotten 1st. Whether I can overcome such odds is something I’ll just have to see. Still, that I’m here in the first place is something I can be proud of, even if I’m not the best mahjong player out there.

Lastly, to celebrate:

Crush Them, Giant Pluto

Before I actually talk about what this post is about: If it wasn’t clear from my blog anniversary post, I am thankful for everything going on in my life.

I recently finished Urasawa Naoki and Nagasawa Takashi’s Pluto, a widely acclaimed series which has people hoping it might some day meet its brother Monster in being adapted into anime. The likelihood of this happening is way up in the air, but as I was reflecting on the series, I decided that if Pluto were to indeed become an anime, I would want Imagawa Yasuhiro as director.

Pluto is loosely based on a story from Tezuka Osamu’s Tetsuwan Atom/Astro Boy, taking “The Greatest Robot on Earth” and turning it into a suspenseful mystery. One of the themes in the series is the “human” element of robots, particularly how the Greatest Robots on Earth (and those somewhat less great) are affected by war. In many cases, while they might not be outright traumatized, it’s clear that fighting and killing their fellow robots by the scores has an impact on how they view and value life. This in many ways resembles the Imagawa-directed 2004 Tetsujin 28 anime, which took a manga title from Tezuka’s contemporary/rival Yokoyama Mitsuteru and gave the series the benefit of hindsight by having it be primarily about weapons of war both mechanical and biological and their place in a post-war environment. It’s quite a good show and gives a lot to chew on, and it’s this anime’s success that has me believing that Imagawa would be the best fit for a Pluto adaptation, though he might have to tone down some of his typical stylistic choices.

Besides, a series like Pluto wouldn’t run the risk that Tetsujin 28 did with its retro character designs and would probably be more marketable as a result. Or I guess you could just go around that almost entirely.

Vistas: Comipo! and the Constructed Definition of “Manga”

I’ve got my first post up at the Vistas Asiascape blog, where my fellow PhD’s and I will be posting our thoughts on various things related to the fields of East Asia and media and fiction and such. Take a look, feel free to comment, and if English isn’t your main language, you are actually welcome to post in whatever language you feel comfortable.

Ogi 3, Gooooooo!!!

Today marks the 3-year anniversary of Ogiue Maniax. Looking back at all that’s happened to me and this blog since last November, it almost doesn’t feel real.

These days, I generally update Ogiue Maniax twice a week, but for over two years I posted daily. It was a signature of sorts for this blog, and I was dedicated to constantly thinking of new areas to explore, questions to ask, and bad jokes to tell. I was fairly proud of keeping up this pace, and swore to myself that only the most drastic circumstances could possibly derail me from my schedule. Even when I was working seven days a week, I still maintained it. But as I sit here in the Netherlands, a country I’ve never visited previously on a continent I had never set foot on, knowing that my purpose here is to focus my passion for anime and manga and penchant for analysis into a doctoral thesis, I know that life answered my challenge. Or perhaps it might be better to say that I challenged life. I hope you’re still enjoying this newer, slimmer Ogiue Maniax.

So if it weren’t for that big change, the most significant blog-related event would have definitely been the revival of Genshiken. It was December when I found out about the one-shot sequel known as Genshiken Chapter 56. Wanting to share it, I spent my Christmas Eve translating it so that all could enjoy one last Genshiken hurrah, not realizing that there would be another follow-up months later. With Genshiken 56 appearing last December and Genshiken II having started in October, the series almost acts as a bookend for year 3 of Ogiue Maniax. It’s more Genshiken than I could have possibly asked for. Not that I’m complaining, of course.

Then there were the panels at Otakon, my trips to play real mahjong with real people, and so many other things. It’s been exciting times, to say the least.

Really though, I am grateful for everyone who’s read Ogiue Maniax, whether you’ve commented or not. I simply can’t take that for granted, and if I do then something must be terribly wrong. Although I’m far away from my friends, my family, and those I cherish most, I still take great joy in being able encourage others to take a closer look at the anime they love and to deepen that passion a little bit more.

From the moment I found out I was moving to when I arrived here, I had this constant feeling that my life was entering a new stage. But when I think about it, my life’s been moving forward for a while now, and I have you to thank.

Used that Mangekyou One Too Many Times

I recently had a conversation with OGT where he mentioned his participation at the University of Kentucky’s annual Asia Art Festival. There, he participated in a panel on anime and all that good stuff. But after the panel, an interesting conversation occurred. I’ll let OGT speak for himself.

…I chatted a bit more with the panelists (one a soon-to-graduate senior, the other a freshman) and the topic somehow swerved to the manga industry, its travails, and its push to make a market for more esoteric, alternative manga (which for all intents and purposes mostly means “not BESM-standard”).

After hearing this, the freshman subsequently asked “So, like, are they trying to make it cool to read print manga?”

What?

It turns out that in the guy’s high school, reading manga in book form meant you were at a disadvantage, not only in terms of keeping up with the story but also socially. One possible explanation for this is the fact that scanlations are of course quicker and, high school being what it is, no one wants to discuss something which has already passed its expiration date for trendiness, be it Bleach or the Super Bowl.

But regardless of the why, I must reiterate my (and OGT’s) feelings on the matter: What?

The more I think about that person’s statement though, the more I feel it to be a revelation!  It’s like through all of the discussions and debates out there on how to get people to buy manga, as well as all of the talk directed towards making people aware of piracy, we all forgot the fact that teenagers are teenagers, and the choice to read an online version of their favorite comic can be as simple as whether or not it would be acceptable by their friends and fellow manga fans. Knowing this, I can’t help but think, “How blind we all are!”

As someone who was once ages 13 through 18, I know that not every decision a person that age makes is the product of group pressure, and that a teenager can even defy that pressure, but I know that it is still a very powerful, perhaps even overwhelming force. And despite what they themselves might think, keeping up with what’s “cool” can affect nerds, especially when it’s due to the judgment values of their fellow dorks. Sure, this feeling can definitely be exploited for marketing purposes—there are industries built entirely around doing so—but all of the logic and strategy in the world can’t always account for the fickle, volatile psyche of the teenager.

So in conclusion, I feel old. You should too.

People Who Play to Prove Something Cause Damage to Those Switching Out

While I have had many friends over the years who were quite fond of Magic: The Gathering, for one reason or another I never quite got into it. So when I began reading about the different player types in Magic as defined by the cards’ creators, I found it so fascinating in a way that I kind of wish I had gotten into the game more. But while I do not have familiarity with Magic, I have thrown many hours into the Pokemon series, and I thought about whether or not I’d be able to determine by player type based on my experience there.

According to Mark Rosewater, the architect behind the current card creation system, players of Magic fall into one of three categories: Timmy, who wants to experience something,” Johnny, who “wants to express something,” and Spike, who “plays to prove something.” More details can be found here. I’ve found myself unable to quite determine where I fall in the spectrum, but perhaps if I explain how I feel about one aspect of the Pokemon, maybe you can help me out.

The second generation of Pokemon games introduced an attack called “Hidden Power.” Story-wise, it was supposed to be a mysterious strength lurking deep within your Pokemon which allowed it to attack with a type element that it normally would not able to. On a technical level, it was an attack ranging in power from weak to medium strength that could be any one of the 17 Pokemon types in the game depending on your individual Pokemon’s inherent statistics. At first it came across as a move you were “lucky” to get, but its meaning and purpose changed in the context of high-level competition, where it could be manipulated to give you exactly the type and strength you wanted. Combined with the fact that nearly every Pokemon could learn it, Hidden Power became a wild card of sorts, customizable just like everything else in the game.

I did not like Hidden Power then, and even though its capacity has been a little more limited since Diamond and Pearl and the re-categorization of “physical” and “special” attacks where the move only becomes useful to “Special Attackers,” I still do not like it. As a person who really enjoys creating Pokemon teams using Pokemon that are not the cream of the crop and trying to figure out different ways to make them work even when they’re at a distinct disadvantage, the way Hidden Power has been continuously used as a near-automatic suggestion to fill a Pokemon’s move slot has always bothered me. Need your Hypno to fight a Swampert? Just give it Hidden Power Grass. Ground types giving your Jolteon trouble? Hidden Power Ice is your answer. Rather than encouraging players to really sit down and think about how a Pokemon could make the most out of its limitations, Hidden Power became a band-aid that could be applied to just about anything, the chainsaw applied to the proverbial hedge maze which just encourages laziness. While I don’t necessarily fault anyone for using the move (why ignore it if it’s there?), I would rather it never existed in the first place.

I am well aware of the counter-argument that Hidden Power is a boon to these lesser Pokemon of which I’m so fond, as it gives them diversity and the ability to compete where without it they would just have no other choice. After all, why should Dragonite get Ice, Electric, Fire, and Water attacks but not Pidgeot? I understand that side well, but I just wish the solution wasn’t as simple and widespread as Hidden Power. With Hidden Power, there’s so much less challenge in trying to get a Pokemon to work that it takes some of my enjoyment out of team-building, because I can’t just ignore that it exists because it’d inevitably be used against me.

So what do you think? I get the feeling I’m not really all that Spike, and I know hybrids can exist, but I’m not too sure where I fall between Timmy and Johnny.

As an aside, I’m quite pumped that Mewtwo finally gets its own signature attack. I’ve been hoping for this since forever because previously Mewtwo’s only distinguishing trait was that it was “really good.”

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.

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