You See Davis

In anime, it is often the case that a romance is hindered by one or more parties being completely oblivious to their own feelings, let alone the feelings of others. But every so often you see a character who “gets it,” realizing that maybe subtle hints just aren’t enough when the person they’re interested in is just a tad dense. One such character is Lina Davis from Heroman, the All-American Cheerleader who knows how to do it.

Opposite Lina is Joey Jones, a guy unfamiliar with the ways of love. Playing coy doesn’t exactly work with a passive guy like him, as it’s difficult for him to make that first move. But Lina is aware of this; she actively tries to get Joey alone so that she can ask him out. Then, when they actually go out on their first date, Lina really lays it on thick.

Whereas most anime girls would be content to maybe put on some makeup and wear a nice skirt, Lina is well aware of how much prompting Joey needs and knows such small steps are simply not enough.

I don’t think there’s much room for misinterpretation here.

While I would not recommend anyone actually look to Heroman for an example of good relationship anime, I think there’s something to be taken from Lina’s more aggressive approach. A lot of anime nerds, not just guys OR girls, can be unable to move forward. But you don’t need a personality change into someone more confident, you just need a quick burst of confidence, just those few seconds or minutes to make your move. In the case of Lina and Joey, while Lina takes the first step, it also allows Joey to reciprocate to some extent.

Let’s celebrate America with an American as interpreted by Japanese attitude towards being with others, even if you’re not American!

TSUZUKU

I don’t know if it’s just from the media I’ve watched, but over the past four years or so I feel like there’s been this steady increase in a certain kind of nostalgic sequel/remake. These are different from your A-Teams and your Transformers movies and such, where the works are designed to tap into fond childhood memories and bring them screaming into the modern age; they’re more about addressing the previous work more directly, whether as a sequel or as a remake or in some hybrid form.

The first example that pops into my mind is Rocky Balboa, the sixth movie in the classic series about an underdog boxer, while more recently Toy Story 3 gives off a similar vibe. Anime is no exception, either. The Rebuild of Evangelion movies, while acting as a story reboot, also feel like direct responses to what came before them.

In all of these cases, it is as if there was some unfinished business left by the previous work which the original creators felt needed addressing, something simply beyond “the last thing made some mistakes.” For Rocky Balboa, it was a combination of Rocky V being a terrible way to end the saga of the Italian Stallion and Stallone himself realizing how old he was getting. With Toy Story 3, it seems like Pixar realized just how many years it’s been since the original Toy Story came out and wanted to bring it back one more time and use it to address both the people who grew up on those movies and Pixar itself and talk about growth and change and passing things on to a new generation. And the new Evangelion movies take the raw material of the original series, puts it through the lens of a decade and a half of anime post-Evangelion, and uses it to try to more deeply explore  the relationships between the characters, to talk about all of the new concerns that have cropped up in Japanese society since then.

Again, I don’t know if it’s just that I’m at the age to really notice this sort of thing, or if it’s that this generation of adults is especially keen on discussing the topic of change and resolution, but I can’t help but feel that it could be a defining feature of this time period in creative entertainment.

How to Make a Better Anime Jeopardy!

“Anime Jeopardy!” is a fairly popular panel to hold at anime conventions, but many times they run into the same problems outside of the general problem of anime knowledge being an incredibly broad subject. First is that they tend to focus too much on specific shows, the second is that the questions tend to be about in-universe topics.

Just think about it: on actual “Jeopardy!” would you ever see a question about fiction like, “These are the number of windows in Dracula’s castle,” or “This man shook hands with a beggar in chapter 10 of such-and-such?” No, the questions do not reward simply having seen some shows more than others, but are more about accruing knowledge about the topics at hand and giving a few context clues.

So what would be the way to improve an “Anime Jeopardy!” panel? First, don’t assume too much about what are considered “easy” questions or “hard” ones. Second, make sure to give a fair amount of context clues as they would on actual “Jeopardy!” Third, there shouldn’t be too great a reward for people who have watched a particular show to death; that skews the results and makes it more difficult for more people to enjoy.

I’ve never run an Anime Jeopardy! panel myself so it may sound like I’m backseat panel-moderatin’, but I really think that if you follow these tips, your anime trivia panel will benefit from it, whether it’s in an existing game show format or not.

The Feminine Touch to the Manly Spirit

Whenever I listen to the full version of the opening to Brave of the Sun Fighbird, a particular lyric gets my attention. Not present in the TV version, the line says, “Kanashimi o kudake, taiyou no tsubasa,” or “Crush sadness, oh wings of the sun.” The way the singer Yasuko Kamoshita emphasizes each syllable of “kanashimi o kudake” sends a jolt of excitement through me.

I think the reason why I notice it so much is because it’s a super robot theme sung by a woman. However, it’s not just because it’s a female vocalist, but because I feel like given the exact same song with the exact same fiery lyrics, male singers and female singers for super robot anime produce different results. Music’s not my strong suit, but if I had to describe the difference, it’s that the male singers tend to sound more passionate while the female singers tend to sound more heartfelt. When Kamoshita tells Fighbird to “crush sadness,” you can hear a twinge of sadness in her voice too.

You might be thinking, “But wait a second, it might just be because this is a 90s anime and at that point anime songs were changing!” And you’d be right on both points, but I think that this feeling extends back towards previous decades as well. Let’s not forget that female singers for super robot anime have been around for quite a while. I get the same impression from Horie Mitsuko’s work on Super Electromagnetic Machine Voltes V and Space Demon Daikengo, as well as MIO/MIQ’s Aura Battler Dunbine and Heavy Metal L-Gaim openings, though those two  are real robot shows so that genre shift factors in as well.

“Men and women sound different!” seems like such an obvious thing, but it really makes me aware of how the same song or piece of art can take on varying emotions once you change certain pieces.

For a fun comparison, let’s look at various openings throughout the decades featuring duets between Horie Mitsuko and anime song legend Mizuki Ichirou.

Thoughts on Learning and Teaching Mahjong

Ever since I’d been approved for the mahjong panel at Otakon, I’ve been both consciously and unconsciously thinking about the game in terms of how beginners approach it. Here are some accumulated thoughts from this slight change in mindset.

As Sub and I work on our panel, we have to be aware that many people don’t have the first clue about mahjong, and that in order to get to the meaty psychologically thrilling parts of the game, we have to show what the game is actually like without going overboard. I trust the both of us to come up with something great, though. Sub especially is a natural at pleasing the crowd.

Sub and I also played some games both online and real life this past week with various levels of beginners, from people absolutely new to the game to people who’ve been playing for a bit but are still grappling with some of the fundamentals.

While neither of us are particularly good at mahjong, we too have made many of the same mistakes, and so we are more keenly aware of them. Generally these errors are the product of over-eagerness and desperation combined with not fully knowing the rules.

In mahjong, when someone discards a tile, there are situations where you can steal the tile and use it as your own, but in doing so confine yourself to fewer options and leave yourself more vulnerable to the attacks of others. One of the most prolific manifestations of this desperation is the over-reliance on stealing others’ tiles in order to move towards victory. Japanese mahjong values defense, and so every time you go on the offense you leave yourself more and more open.  The newbie tendency is to just keep stealing tiles whenever you have the chance. Eventually, your options become so limited that you’re left near-impotent with possibly not even the strongest of luck being able to save you.

Naturally, Sub decided to exploit this and gain a commanding lead over an entire game. I came in second, unable to get a win in, but also able to avoid the traps Sub had set for the other players. In a later game, I did pretty much the same thing he did. It’s a good reminder of where we were and where we can go.

We also realized that the game is not quite as difficult to learn as we originally thought it to be. Yes, when you factor in all of the various small rules and exceptions and knick-knacks, the game can become ridiculously complex, especially because mahjong resembles so few other games. However, the very basics are fairly easy to learn and one or two games and a bit of observation is all it takes to get going.

Of course, there won’t be time for that at the panel as it is not a workshop, but our goal is more to convey a sense of mahjong and the excitement therein in order to bolster your enjoyment of mahjong anime and manga. In that sense, I truly believe we will succeed, and that every game of mahjong we play, not only with those less experienced but also those far superior to us, will be useful lessons towards this goal.

Have Fun With Japanese: Create Your Own Kanji Compounds

When you learn Japanese, inevitably you have to hit the wall that is “kanji.” For an English speaker, having entire words comprised of one or two semi-complex symbols can be an unfamiliar and daunting prospect. On top of that, unlike Chinese, Japanese kanji have multiple pronunciations, depending on which words they’re being paired with or how they’re being used. English simply doesn’t do this.

But in time, as you familiarize yourself with kanji more and more, your mind starts to connect the words to the characters, and when you hear a new vocabulary word, your brain may start to try and figure out the kanji behind it. Kanji can hint at the meaning of a word, even if you’re not sure what it is. And even the vocabulary you’ve learned previously starts to look fresh and new, as you realize that they too have kanji behind them.

At this point, it’s time to play a fun new game: creating your own kanji compounds.

A kanji compound is any word consisting of multiple kanji. One that most people might know is 日本, or Japan, pronounced as “Nihon.” 読む, or “yomu,” to read, 書く, or “kaku,” to write, each have kanji in them. When you take the two kanji together, they become 読書, or “dokusho,” reading as a noun.

My favorite imaginary kanji compound is 光線欠, or “kousenketsu.” It means “lack of lasers.” Use it well in your daily Japanese studies. And then try it yourself! See what you come up with.

Different Aims, Different Misses: “Traveler,” Manga, and OEL Manga

Back when I was buying issues of Monthly Afternoon to get my Genshiken fix, the magazines would occasionally come with packaged mini-manga. Each small book has one or two self-contained stories and it seemed like a pretty good extra. It wasn’t until kransom’s post about the Afternoon Four Seasons Award that I realized that these manga were exactly that: winning entries from the competitions.

Though anyone is allowed to enter, amateurs can still manage to win, as was the case with Winter 2005 when then-rookie manga artist Imai Tetsuya won the Winter 2005 Grand Prize for his entry, entitled Traveler.

Portable Four Seasons Winter 2005. Traveler is the one on top.

Looking at Traveler, it most definitely deserved to win. The basic premise is that a boy wakes up one day to find that he’s four months in the future and that apparently in those four months he’s turned into a complete jerk who left his band and broke up with his girlfriend. The story is less about returning back to the proper time and more about dealing with responsibility even when it shouldn’t have anything to do with you. It’s pretty intriguing, and everyone loves to say, “Fuzakenna!

Imai makes mistakes. Some of the characters and plot development seemed tacked on and unnecessary. But what I find really interesting about this is that the faults of Traveler feel different from the mistakes that tend to happen in OEL manga.

When we look at criticism of OEL manga and the whole movement behind it, one of the factors is how much it just doesn’t “look” like manga. Artists try their best to live up to the series they love, but something typically feels off. In the past I’ve talked about some of the reasons why I think this happens, and Narutaki over at the Reverse Thieves pointed out the abuse of screentone in a lot of OEL titles. But I think there’s a more inherent cultural difference, one that’s not really a matter of talent or experience.

The art in Traveler hits bouts of inconsistency, particularly with the characters, as they sometimes suddenly look like they have no bones underneath their skin and muscles. I think you can see this in the image from earlier. Faces go out of proportion, too. A lot of western artists probably even have a better grasp of anatomy and motion than Imai, but the way in which the artwork turns out inconsistent is different from the way it happens in most OEL titles.

The story’s faults are also different from the issues that occur in OEL manga. In Traveler, some characters and plot threads sometimes seem unnecessary or perhaps given too much time, a problem when it’s just a 32-page one-shot, which are problems which occur in OEL titles too, but the plot issues with Traveler seem very much like the kind of mistakes that would happen in manga. There’s a sense that Imai and other manga-aspiring artists in Japan, when compared to their counterparts across the ocean, are simply aiming for separate goals; whether they reach them or not is another matter entirely.

I think the lesson here might be that when you judge two things, comparing the very best of one to the very worst of another doesn’t really get you anywhere. It’s far more interesting and fruitful to look at the middle ground; avoid the absolute greats for a little bit so you can see what most people are doing. There, you’ll find a good snapshot of the state of manga, or whatever it is you’re looking at.

I also know that “across the ocean” leaves out countries and products like Korean manhwa. I’ll leave that for another day though.

The Light Pathos Club

The second season of K-On! begins with the girls of the light music club heading to their clubroom. Already there, Yui plays a quiet tune on her guitar evoking  a feeling of renewal and change tinged with nostalgia. The subdued nature of this first scene then carries over into the rest of the episode and beyond. As K-On!! has progressed, there has been a distinct overarching focus on the the idea that high school is almost over for the founders of Houkago Tea Time and that things will never be the same.

While present to a certain extent in the manga, Kyoto Animation’s adaptation seems to be focused on showing the subtle magic of the senior year of high school, before the girls become adults and get that much closer to the real world. A semi-running gag in the manga about the ex-student council president turning out to be Mio Fan #1 now features that same character as a mature college student looking fondly on her high school memories. An entire episode is devoted to Sawako, the club supervisor and closet former metalhead guitarist, and her recapturing some of the passion of her youth. In general, the lighting in K-On!! is very soft, again hinting at a strong feeling towards the ephemeral. The message from Kyoto Animation is loud and clear.

I’m not sure how I feel about this, as I think it’s an attempt to add a bit of depth to K-On!, but I’m not sure how much K-On! needs or even wants it. I understand that high school is a big deal and all. My memories of high school are among my most cherished, and it’s because I had very close friends with whom I could be myself, which is also the case in K-On!! However, because it was only somewhat there in the source material, some of it works, some of it doesn’t, and the end result is that it kind of feels forced in.

What are your thoughts on the direction K-On!! has taken?

Break Through the 2nd Floor Window: Ogiue Maniax

Ogiue Maniax managed to overcome its opposition in the third round of the Aniblog Tourney, in a match so close that a mere image macro could have swung the vote either way. I thank chaostangent for a fine match, and I really enjoyed seeing people talk about how they preferred one person’s style over the other. Voting for content, that’s what I want to see.

My fourth round match is against Tenka Seiha, a popular episodic-style blog which also has a doujin game translation arm attached to it. Or maybe the blog is attached to the translation. One likely event is that the match will come down to the pseudo-dichotomy of “episodic” vs “editorial.” I hope that doesn’t happen, and again, that you read at least some of the content before you vote. I already have primers for the Ogiue Maniax style here and here. I’ve also included a couple of my favorite posts below.

The Aniblog Tourney has seen many of the criticisms that other popularity-based tournaments have had. First, similar to Saimoe, vote results are considered “irrelevant” by some because the number of people voting is far less than the number of blog readers out there, let alone anime fans. Second, like the GameFAQs Character Battle, accusations of snobbery run against cries of appealing to the lowest common denominator, resulting in overwhelming indictments of the personalities of both the writers and the readers.

The first issue revolves around a simple question: What would it take to get the people who read anime blogs to vote in a tournament about anime blogs?

If it were a contest of favorite anime characters or series, then I think people would be more willing to participate. The act of discussing anime is one step removed from actually experiencing it, and to be reading the thoughts of someone who is watching anime creates even further distance. And the more you go along this path, the less likely people are going to care. In order for more blog readers to vote, the competition has to be somehow relevant to them; they have to want to be involved.

That leads to the second issue, that of elitism vs mob mentality. Here, there seems to be trouble relating to the other side, perhaps even a strong desire to not want to relate to the other side. I want to bridge that gap, and I will do so with an extended metaphor.

Imagine you’re at a restaurant eating a cheeseburger. Every bite makes you want to take another. What are your thoughts at this time? Perhaps you’re thinking that it’s simply “delicious.” How delicious? You might compare it to cheeseburgers you’ve had in the past that stick out in your memory. You might begin to wonder why you find this burger delicious, or why the people who hate cheeseburgers do so. Or maybe you’re wondering if you’d eat it over an expensive filet mignon. Why do we eat the things we do? How has the act of enjoying food affected commercialism and vice versa? What of the cattle that went into the beef? Or maybe you’re not even “thinking” at all, and you’re just savoring the flavor, the wanderings of your brain temporarily shut down so that you can fully engage the beef and the cheese which lies melted on top.

Are there any thoughts from your burger experience that you want to share with others? If so, which thoughts? What is your purpose behind making people aware of cheeseburger and cheeseburger-related topics? Do you want to recommend the place to others? If you’re going to compare it, do you compare it with other items on the menu or with other cheeseburgers? Or do you want to talk about the concept of the cheeseburger and how ubiquitous an icon it’s become?

Clearly there are some topics in my cheeseburger metaphor that when translated into anime blogging clearly lean towards the side of the “episodic” blogging, while there are others that would clearly be considered “editorial.” But there’s also this gigantic middle area where the division becomes increasingly tenuous. Some can easily exist in both types of blogs, and it all just comes down to what it is about anime that interests you, what you want to say about it, and what kind of discussion you expect from it, if any at all.

Anime can be emotional. It can be intellectual. It can be sophisticated and it can be visceral. It can be all of those things and none of them, and there’s no clear definition of which is which or how things “should” be enjoyed. Irrespective of any notions of quality in either the anime being watched or the blogs being written, people have real reasons for liking the things they do, even if it’s as simple as “killing time,” that’s still a valid reason. Similarly, someone who has gotten to the point of analyzing the cultural effects of anime and not the anime itself may risk being too far-removed from the anime itself, but it’s still a decided direction. You may not like either reason, but that doesn’t mean that the first person is a mindless sack of waste, nor is the second necessarily incapable of talking “normally.” And just as you can respect someone else’s approach to anime, someone can respect yours, even if you disagree entirely.

It’s easier to understand each other when we’re not being so aggressively defensive.

THE WORLD! IS! MAHJONG!

Mahjong manga has its fair share of devoted followers, especially in Japan itself, but I feel that the genre has a direction it has yet to explore that could, if done well, be one of the best mahjong titles ever.

The mahjong portrayed in manga is almost invariably Japanese-style mahjong, but of course mahjong is a game of Chinese origins, and has found homes in other parts of Asia and even in the United States. There are some rules we kind of take for granted with  Japanese-style mahjong. For example, declaring riichi, or the act of declaring to your opponents that you’re a hair’s breadth away from winning in order to gain the opportunity to earn additional bonus points, and furiten, or the rule that trying to win off of a tile you’ve already discarded previously is significantly more difficult, are exclusive to Japanese mahjong.

Now, wouldn’t it be great to see a series about a guy (or possibly a girl) who has to master multiple forms of mahjong?

Korean-style mahjong forbids stealing tiles to complete straights unless it is to win a round.

In Hong Kong’s version of mahjong, you can actually win with a 0-point hand, ending the round but achieving nothing in return.

Taiwanese mahjong has 16-tile hands, as opposed to the standard 13-tile hand found in most other forms of mahjong.

American mahjong actually has “jokers” and the ability to exchange tiles at the start of the match.

And Japanese tiles are smaller than the tiles used in other parts of the world, so even the methods of cheating change somewhat as you go from one style to the next.

Some of the rule differences seem small, but they can have a profound impact on how the game is played, and this is exactly the sort of thing that could be exaggerated to great effect in manga format. The hero would have to adapt to every style and figure out the feel and the flow of each type of mahjong. I see it as being similar to Swan, where a young ballerina travels the world to learn different philosophies on ballet.

And if they start running out, then I don’t see why they couldn’t just start making new ones up. There’s Washizu mahjong, why can’t there be Canadian mahjong?