Shameful Otaku Secret!

The best part about currently-airing anime is the “water cooler” factor, the ability to talk with people about what happened this week and speculate on the coming episodes. While older titles may have more appeal in general, the shared experience factor of new series is something you just have to miss out on.

But a re-release, such as the recently remastered Revolutionary Girl Utena, provides a great opportunity for a new group of people to share the experience they might have missed the first time around. One such person I’m fortunate enough to share this particular series with is animekritik, who’s braving a less than optimal computer to get his fix of swordfighting fantasy… shoujo?

kritik: I actually think when well done, shoujo is the most powerful of anime genres. What’s more powerful than the emotions of a teenage girl? rage, love, envy…
otou-san: you mean what’s more histrionic and melodramatic?
kritik: melodramatic, yes, overboard, yes. I like that in anime.
otou-san: I can’t argue that anime is a medium that does melodrama well.
kritik: What you do is you take all that emotion, which usually an outsider would think is plain silly, and make it the key to saving the universe or something of that sort.

He makes a good point. You want drama, teenage girls have it in spades. Though for some reason it surprised us both, Utena’s unmistakably shoujo— from the flowery borders, to the spindly, curly character designs, to the (cool and spicy) heroine in a boy’s uniform, this is aimed at the fairer demographic. Maybe that’s why it never made its way into my VCR the first time around — the shoujo overtones didn’t mesh with my more Kawajiri-focused taste. But if a pink-haired girl swordfighting amidst a metal soundtrack doesn’t sway you, I question your male status as well.

The story revolves around Utena Tenjou, who was given a rose ring as a child by a prince. Like any normal girl, she decides that she herself will become a prince. What? Utena has lived her life in a princely way thus far: she acts noble but never snobby, and she’s devoted to protecting the weak and bullied. One day she’s challenged to a duel — kendo, or so she thinks — for the honor of her friend Wakaba, but it turns out to be a bit more than a kendo match.

Neither kritik or I have a very clear idea of where this is going, but it shows up with all guns blazing and makes no apologies. The show doesn’t feel the need to over-explain just yet, it’s too busy exciting and confusing you. I thought that at the very least you could say that few first episodes were executed with incredible confidence:

kritik: Yes! Notice the show is done with the same confidence Utena shows in her dealings with the world… it’s like they’re in sync.

Then there’s the ballsy move to toss the viewers into a weird world without much explanation; it isn’t a move that a lot of anime tends to make. Recounting what happens to Utena from when she sets foot in the woods:

1. Bizarre door that appears to open via her rose ring.
2. Floating stairs that lead up to a surreal floating castle-like structure.
3. Anthy Himemiya in a dress, apparently engaged to a student council member, spouting a sword erotically from her chest.
4. A duel, between her with a kendo stick and her opponent with a real sword.

And not only does Utena appear ready for it, she manages to brush it off by the time she gets home.

kritik: [It's] fantasy after all. she wants to be a man (i.e., do as she wills, be strong) while she’s quite strongly against men (they travel in groups and beat the weak). She wants to be a prince, basically…
otou-san: but most fantasy has that grace period where the hero/ine, despite her dreams and imaginings, has to adjust to whatever fantastical situation she’s thrown into. I mean, I’d poop my pants, but the girl totally rolls with it.
kritik: it’s like a dream, where you immediately accept what’s happened and move on.

The dreamlike events and equally dreamlike logic of acceptance makes Utena’s opening episode one of the most unique out there. Where do we go from here? Well, our combination will start to take a more definite shape as the series itself does, and I hope that some of our volleys will unearth some thoughts and conclusions that we might not have come to alone. I’m sure that those of you who’ve seen Utena will enjoy reading our missed conclusions and wild speculation, but that’s part of the fun. Look forward to it — next week it’ll be kritik’s turn.

You may have heard through the grapevine that I recently went on a week’s vacation — holiday, to you fancy folk in some countries. It was great: learning about another culture, eating freshly-caught (and freshly-clubbed) fish, relaxing on the beach, and spending the declining US dollar in a way that was more wallet-friendly than staying at home. And it occurred to me (with a little prodding from someone…) that place is important. In the context of anime, a place can be as compelling a character as any human, Abh, or magical ferret, but rarely gets the same attention. What is Love Hina without the Hinata Inn, and where else but planet Gunsmoke does Vash the Stampede make even a drop of sense? Here are some my favorite anime places.

Neo-Venezia

Cropped. Click for full size on pixiv.

It probably won’t surprise any Aria viewer that this one would go at the top of the list. Yes, there are cute gondoliers and suteki~ oneesamas like Alicia, but the lead character of Aria is not the titular cat, but Aqua — and its fake Italian city. Built by human hands, and mostly as a tourist destination, but not to be a gaudy Vegas/Cancun/Dubai statement of “look what we can do” or a faux-experience Disneyland. Instead, Neo-Venezia is an authentic locale born from the dedication of a few intrepid souls to recreating a simpler time and place. It’s the best kind of future, really: Technology ensures that all of the wonderful baked goods and none of the diseases of the past live on in a pleasant and welcoming place that neither gets you too dirty nor reeks of touristy “plastic”-ness.

Glie

If any anime gives off a similar vibe to Aria, it’s Haibane Renmei. I don’t mean in the sense of stories, characters, or even mood (Haibane actually has a story, which doesn’t make it superior to Aria necessarily, but different for sure). It’s that indescribable something special that makes you feel like you’re the only person who’s ever watched this, regardless of how many other people you know who find it wonderful. And like Aqua, Glie is a place that affects the story as strongly as any of its residents. Unlike Aqua, it has a complex set of rules and physics that separate it from the rest of the universe — at least, people assume that, but seeing as how they can’t freaking leave, it’s hard to prove anything about the outside world. Glie provides a wonderful mirror to the characters’ minds. Rakka loves it at first, but mistrusts its intentions more and more as she comes to empathize with Reki, who finds the town to be a comfortable cage from which she can’t escape.

Mayan

Leave it to Kawamori to name his island ode to vanishing culture and environment so plainly after a nearly-decimated American culture. Obvious message is obvious. Mayan serves two main purposes: it inspires a desire in Shin, Roy, and the viewer to protect it (wait… geographical moe?), and it provides a unique perspective on the story of the final world war on Earth. So it’s not the most well-developed location, but it does what it does well. In Macross Zero’s pre-SDF timeline, the world has yet to unite behind the giant ship to fight the Zentraedi, and is instead fighting itself. Honestly, it’s probably a more compelling story, and that’s largely because it’s told from the perspective of the Mayan Islanders — the collateral damage who can understand neither the motivations nor the sophisticated weapons of the mainlanders. The low-tech, spiritual world that they inhabit lends a mysterious new meaning to the Protoculture for fans of Macross, and their mythology does more to explain exactly what the Protoculture is (and means) than Exedol’s visit to the edge of the universe in Macross 7.

There are more, many more…

Even a completely real place (like Tokyo) can be an effective focus of a story, especially if, like other fictional characters, it’s put in a unique situation or circumstance (a massive earthquake). The question of place is often what elevates an otherwise ho-hum anime beyond average, whether it’s a school life or post-apocalypse setting. So what are your favorite anime places? Is there anywhere that’s crucial to a plot, fascinating to think about, or just well-drawn enough that it catches your brain as much as the characters and story? I, for one, would like to watch it, so I can take another vacation without having to get the days off work.

I hate starting posts like this. It’s much easier to begin a post if you’re in the midst of a series, but a roundup, or review, always feels like it needs to be couched in some kind of context or background. I don’t have much to offer in that respect.

Three things, I guess:

1. Haibane Renmei is a series that was recommended a few times. I couldn’t remember by whom, so I checked MAL to jog my memory: turns out 16 of my MAL friends have seen it: for some reason CCY did not rate it, and lelangir called it a 7 by virtue of the fact that it was not Gunbuster (understandable), and the rest were in the 8-10 range. I realize MAL is a severely unscientific research tool, but it does give me a pretty good impression of people’s thoughts. Also, I do remember that coburn and TheBigN were the biggest proponents, although others call it a 10.
2. I watched it too friggin’ fast to do any mid-series posts.
3. I’m trying in vain to translate that little lump in my throat into an appropriate post.

So I’m not sure where to begin, but let me say this: my overall impression is that Haibane doesn’t play out like one anime… more like three. They don’t have hard demarcations, instead they flow seamlessly into one another. But if you took say, episode 2, episode 7, and episode 11, they would each feel like they could have come from a different series.

First, there’s the introduction. This lasts fully half the series or so, and it gives off a decidedly un-ABe-like vibe (if you’ve seen Serial Experiments Lain and/or Texhnolyze you know what I mean). We, the viewers, get to see the town of Glie through new and wondrous eyes — Rakka’s eyes. The beginning of her journey is painful. She’s born lonely into the world, devoid of her memories, and her own body becomes a foreign thing as she’s transformed into a winged angelic Haibane. But others who’ve been through this shelter her, and the residents of Glie are lovely people, so she’s surrounded by love. In this way, it’s very Aria-like. And like Aqua, Glie is a unique location because it’s almost ridiculously mundane in its day-to-day life but fantastic for the simple fact that it exists. As Rakka fits into this world, there is little to no plot development to speak of, just a wide-eyed sense of wonderment and discovery, and Aria’s same simple magic that leaves you smiling.

But Haibane is a creeper. As suteki~ as that first part is, the second arc is equally crushing. Things change, Rakka enters a deep crisis of faith and personality, and like any good fictional hero, must overcome this. Unfortunately, it’s pretty hard to talk about it, or the third arc, without giving away the farm, and the unexpected way in which the story unfolds — though never jarring, always kind of morphing — is one of the series’ strong points.

One of the unexpected turns (if not quite a twist) is like Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann’s most masterful one: it turns out the series isn’t actually about who you think it’s about. Well… it is and it isn’t. But let’s say Haibane Renmei has two fantastic characters in Rakka and Reki, the oneesama-type character who takes selfless care of her fellow Haibane. It’s an interesting proposition, the idea that all the characters are half-lives whose more putty-like years were spent in a world (presumably ours, but maybe not) that they can no longer remember. That means that they get a fresh start, so the things weighing down Reki’s mind are particularly powerful, and Rakka quickly learns that life in Glie can be an easy stroll or the world’s most pleasant prison depending on where you sit.

Haibane Renmei, according to Yoshitoshi ABe, is a religious story, although it doesn’t mirror or endorse any particular religion. The Haibane’s angel-like appearance probably serves no other purpose than to make this obvious (that and he probably liked drawing wings and halos).

If it doesn’t really tell the story of a god, then how is it religious? I suppose it’s because the central topics here are salvation and the nature of sin. The Haibane Renmei (communicator) tells of the circle of sin, a thought paradox that characters like Rakka and Reki become hopelessly trapped in. It’s heartbreaking because it’s a bit like original sin in that they carry it from their birth, and are powerless to stop it when they emerge naïvely from the cocoon. But salvation also comes whether they like it or not.

The assessment of sin and salvation goes something like this: Being deserving is not a matter of intent; intent only clouds the issue. That’s not how you’re saved.

No one is entirely devoid of sin. Even if you’re just selfishly trying to absolve yourself of sin, if you’re good at it, you become good in the process. I love that. In that way, it’s a lot more idealized then your average actual religion, but makes such beautiful sense. In the end, that anti-paradox becomes the fix for the first paradox, the circle of sin. Though much is lost along the way, Haibane Renmei leaves its viewers feeling saved.