NIS America announced last month that they have the rights to the Genshiken Second Season anime, and knowing their history of putting out deluxe box sets that are a little pricier but come with all sorts of doodads (an art book being the main one), anyone who’s a Genshiken fan would be satisfied with their Bluray release (though we don’t know what’s there yet).

The question is, would you be satisfied enough?

For the Japanese release of Genshiken Second Season, there is a special deal: If you preorder all 4 Bluray volumes before September 1st from one of three specific stores, you will get a 12-page illustration booklet AND a color print by Kio Shimoku. Order from Animate for Double Hato, Gamers for Yoshitake and Yajima, and finally Toranoana for Ogiue and Sue.

(To be a Hato you’ve gotta be strong, humble never braggin’.)

This is in addition to existing extras, which at least for Volume 1 include a 16-page illustration booklet and an animated extra entitled “The First Meeting to Discuss How a Girl This Cute Can’t Possibly Be a Girl,” as well as a “Post-Clubroom Rambling Discussion.” Whether that’s another animated feature or voice-only, I don’t know.

The only thing is, if you opt into one of these deals, you’re looking at roughly 30,000 yen for 13 episodes. Also keep in mind that a lot of these stores don’t ship internationally so you’ll have to find a way around that, which can cost you even more. You can get them cheaper through Amazon JP but then of course you wouldn’t get the extra extras.

I’ve pre-ordered the Blurays because I am an idiot. As you may have guessed, I went for the Toranoana version. I did not decide to get all three sets of Blurays because even I’m not that insane.

Honestly, unless you’re me, you’re probably better off sticking with the NIS America release as I’m pretty confident it’ll look good. The Japanese Blurays are a realm beyond, for those looking to collect every bit of Ogiue merchandise they can (there’s not a lot, you know).

Actually I’m going to buy the NIS America release as well.

This year’s Otakon was its 20th anniversary, and as expected of the staff they brought out the big guns, with names such as Watanabe Shinichirou, Kanno Yohko, and Seki Tomokazu. As with every year, one of the biggest strengths and weaknesses of Otakon is that there’s too much to do, and it leaves me feeling both satisfied and a bit disappointed.

For one thing, I didn’t get to see the Space Dandy trailer.

Industry

Watanabe Shinichirou (Cowboy Bebop)

Possibly the biggest news to come out of Otakon was the announcement of Watanabe’s new anime, the aforementioned Space Dandy. Described by Watanabe as “80% comedy, 20% serious” in contrast to Cowboy Bebop‘s “80% serious, 20% comedy,” the series sounds just plain interesting when you hear how much they’re putting into it. In terms of music, for example, Watanabe stated that they would have over 20 artists contributing to the soundtrack, and in terms of production every episode would have different episode directors and different designs for the aliens inhabiting their planets.

I managed to ask Watanabe about having Thomas Romain (Basquash!, Oban Star Racers) on staff for ship design, and Watanabe mentioned that he had been impressed with Romain’s work for a while. Also, while Romain is Satelight staff and normally wouldn’t be able to work at Bones for Watanabe, Romain turned out to be a huge fan of Cowboy Bebop which gave Watanabe the leverage to get him on board for this one project.

I do wonder how it’ll be received among American fans, because there was some disappointment from the fanbase over Watanabe’s previous work, Kids on the Slope. While Space Dandy is closer to his action-ey works, the “80% comedy” part might be unwelcome by those fans looking for drama and grit. That said, I’m certainly looking forward to it.

Kurosaki Kaoru on Watsuki Nobuhiro (Rurouni Kenshin)

One of the more unique guests this time around was Kurosaku Kaoru, a novelist in her own right, but also more relevant to the otaku audience as the wife of Watsuki Nobuhiro, author of Rurouni Kenshin. Originally Watsuki himself was supposed to come as well, but he was unable to due to working on Embalming. Kaoru also held a panel all about Watsuki, but because of the way she went about it the crowd also learned a lot about some of the most famous Shounen Jump manga artists, as well as the workings of Jump in general.

There was also a gallery of Watsuki’s works, the first of its kind, but sadly even though we could take photos we are not allowed to share them online. (I’m sure somebody has though.)

Watsuki we learned is a big fan of American media, as one of his biggest regrets about not being able to attend Otakon was not being able to visit a Toys “R” Us and look at the Pacific Rim merchandise. He’s also a big fan of American comics, and his favorite superheroes are the X-Men. We also got to see his daily work schedule, which is mind-bogglingly arduous but also par for the course. According to the breakdown, Watsuki works from 10am to 6pm, from 7pm to late, and midnight to 4am. Sleep is 4am-9am, and the other gaps are for meals. That’s 5 hours of sleep versus about 15 hours for work. If he keeps on schedule, he gets four days of rest at the end of each month.

Kurosaki also provided a monthly breakdown of his schedule, and while inking comprised the majority of it, it was especially fascinating to see that the “name,” an extremely rough preliminary version of the manga which is mainly about panel and page layout and narrative flow, takes four days to comple. Kurosaki mentioned that the “name” is so simple as to use stick figures, but the attention paid to this part of the manga-creating process does emphasize how important panel flow is in manga.

Kaoru also took us through the process by which Watsuki makes color images, which involves drawing a thumbnail and then going over it with a Japanese calligraphy brush and copic markers for color. Watsuki apparently thinks that It’s good for one shot illustrations but not the manga itself, as it requires more concentration but the lines become more dynamic, and it acts as a time-saving measure for color images. The traditional feel that the brush art gives off also matches the theme and feel of Kenshin. Related to that, when someone asked about the setting of Rurouni Kenshin, the answer was that Watsuki wanted to draw a period piece with sword fights but didn’t want to draw topknots (they were strange-looking to a modern Japanese audience as well as an international one), so the Meiji period was the only point in history where you could have the former without the latter.

I wish I could’ve asked more about copics, as I find it interesting that they’re such an industry standard.

In terms of former assistants, Watsuki’s lineup is near-Olympian, counting among them Oda Eiichirou (One Piece), Murata Yuusuke (Eyeshield 21), Shimabukuro Mitsutotshi (Toriko), Mikio Itoo (Normandy Secret Club), and Takei Hiroyuki (Shaman King), all of whom consider Watsuki a friend. From Kaoru we learned that there are three breaks a year for Jump artists, and that during those breaks everyone either gathers at Watsuki’s or Oda’s house. Shimabukuro is a current neighbor of theirs, while Takei is a former neighbor. Murata, now known for his exquisite artwork on One Punch Man, used to be an assistant on Gun Blaze West, though at the time Watsuki thought his drawings were “no good.”

Mikio Itoo is known as the “cameo king,” appearing multiple times in One Piece, Shaman King, and even Kenshin in background posters and crowds and such.

Another major name who worked with Watsuki on Kenshin was former editor-in-chief of Shounen Jump, Sasaki Hisashi, who worked with Watsuki from his first submission all the way to the end of Kenshin. The basis for a certain character in Bakuman (he even uses the fictionalized version of himself as a Twitter avatar), Sasaki is often asked about the accuracy of Bakuman, to which the official reply is, “Things depicted in Bakuman are neither true nor false.” We also learned that Jump employees are not supposed to give comments outside the office using their real faces.

Not limited to people who have worked directly with, over, or under Watsuki, we also saw comments from Kishimoto Masashi (Naruto), Inugaki Riichirou (also Eyeshield 21), Matsui Katsunori (La Sommelière), and Suzuki Shinya (Mr. Fullswing). Did you know the last chapter of Kenshin ran in the same magazine as the first chapter of Naruto? Kishimoto saw this as a kind of passing of the baton, and credits Kishimoto for making Japanese culture popular in manga again (but also believes that now it’s become too much). For this reason, Kishimoto calls Watsuki the leader of a generation.

Inugaki’s comment was that Watsuki taught him techniques to speed up the manga-creating process, namely giving rhythm to the use of detail and not trying to draw every little thing. We then learned from Kurosaki that both she and Watsuki play German board games often with Inugaki and his wife, and are especially fans of Dominion. As someone who hasn’t played it but has played games like it and has heard much about it, the intrigue continues to build for me.

Suzuki’s message talked about Watsuki’s fandom, as he once found an entire box full of fan letters for Watsuki. Matsui, whom Kurosaki commented that he’s especially good at drawing cute girls (I would agree), actually did not send any comments, except to promote him in the US. As much as I’d like to see that, I know Drops of God didn’t knock the manga community off its socks, so I don’t know how well the less adventurous La Sommelière would do.

What was maybe the most interesting bit of trivia of all, however, was that a lot of the Jump artists use the instant messaging service LINE to talk to each other and joke around. Watsuki doesn’t use it because he’s bad with computers, so his wife has to tell him what’s going on.

Sentai Filmworks

The only American industry panel I attended was Sentai Filmworks’, where they were very excited over their recent Girls und Panzer announcement. I also ran into an unfortunate bit of luck, discovering that they had license rescued Betterman, a show which I had just recently scoured Amazon for in other to get the complete release of the original Bandai DVDs. It’s a shame, because it definitely would have been a show I would’ve bought and supported, mainly because it’s such an unusual piece of work.

I asked Sentai Filmworks about the translation issues in their release of Mawaru Penguindrum but the answer given was ignorance, claiming that they had not been aware of the criticisms brought out against their translation choices. Oh well.

Maruyama Masao

While many of the industry guests and panels are excellent, every year the most stand-out guest is Maruyama Masao, founder and former producer at MADHouse, currently founder and producer of MAPPA (Kids on the Slope). Even though he’s been at one Otakon after the other, his Q&A panels are consistently informative and interesting. To give you an idea of how great his answers are, when asked about production delays for Redline (which took 7 years to complete), Maruyama answered that Redline was not late, it took as long as it should have, which was a lot of time due to the amount of work required for it. Maruyama then said that he left MADHouse to take responsibility for the debt that Redline put them into but then said in English, “IT’S A JOKE.”

In one of my favorite moments of Otakon, I asked Maruyama to share some stories about the recently departed Dezaki Osamu (director of works such as The Rose of Versailles, Aim for the Ace, Black Jack OVAs, and even Dear Brother), to which he replied with what was about a 10-minute long answer. Maruyama stated two significant events responsible for his long career in anime: working with two Osamus. First, he worked for Tezuka Osamu at Mushi Pro, and then formed MADHouse with Dezaki. Their first non-Tezuka work was Ashita no Joe. Eventually when the Ashita no Joe 2 film was in planning, they had creative differences where Maruyama believed it was unnecessary and Dezaki wanted to work on it, so he left and formed a studio called Anapple. They would not work with each other for many years, though they were still friends and still played mahjong with each other.

During the time they were apart, Maruyama produced directors such as Hosoda, Kon, Kawajiri, and had no time to work with Dezaki. Eventually, as they both reached old age, they decided to work together once more, and their final project together was, of all things, Ultraviolet. Dezaki wasn’t sure if it was the right work, but it was the only one in the pipeline at the time and the only chance they had to work together. Maruyama said they were happy to make it, though said nothing of the quality of the show. Maruyama then mentioned that Dezaki’s final work, Genji, had Dezaki tryingg to put in everything he couldn’t put into Ultraviolet. Then Maruyama said that with the time he has left on Earth, he would try to bring Dezaki and Kon’s remaining works to the world.

The panel also included a special showing of a short titled Hana wa Saku (Flowers Bloom), directed by Katabuchi Sunao (Mai Mai Miracle) with music by Kanno Yohko, whose purpose was to encourage the people affected by the earthquake. I hear in his other panel he also showed a video directed by Rintaro which was a funeral tribute to Kon Satoshi.

Interviews

I managed to get interviews with both acclaimed voice actor Seki Tomokazu, as well as Tachikawa Yuzuru and Suwa Michihiko, who are involved with the Anime Mirai project. Keep checking Ogiue Maniax for those.

Fan Panels

In terms of fan-run panels, this year was a mix of new and interesting subjects as well as a few “greatest hits” to celebrate the 20th anniversary. Mike Toole’s panel on “Outsider Anime,” his take on the Henry Darger-esque idea of “Outsider Art” looked at a number of creative and off-the-wall artists who, while for the most part not totally “outsiders” still push the boundaries. Names such as Shinkai and Yuasa are somewhat familiary to anime fans at this point, but I hadn’t heard of Tomioka Satoshi and his bizarre toilet humor rabbit animation Usavich for instance, and only recently learned about Mizue Mirai and his abstract animations. I was especially glad though to see him mention Iseda Katsuyuki, a man infamous for creating anime pretty much on his own with… unique results.

I attended the “45 Years of Shounen Jump” panel (while also singing along with the anime openings). Run by landofobscusion, it was a short “greatest hits” breakdown of the magazine. I learned quite a few things. For example, I did not know Sexy Commando was a top 3 title at one point, nor did I know that the end of Dragonball lost the magazine 500,000 readers while Slam Dunk’s finish lost them 2 million. What was even more interesting was hearing the crowd react to all of the titles mentioned. Yu Yu Hakusho for instance got a gigantic pop that I wasn’t quite expecting, as I knew people liked the show but didn’t know it was nestled that fondly in the hearts of fans who watched it on Cartoon Network.

Because of this panel the second City Hunter opening is stuck in my head now.

Speaking of surprising fan reactions, I am pleased to see the mecha fandom’s opinion of Gundam SEED turn around tremendously. Traditionally, when you go to a giant robot or Gundam-themed panel, there is a valuing of the Universal Century timeline over the alternate universe counterparts not named G Gundam. (The Seki Tomokazu panel I attended taught me just how many people love G Gundam, to the extent that more than one attendee exclaimed Domon Kasshu as a role model for how to live as a man.)

In the past Gundam SEED was seen as a black spot on giant robot anime, “the beginning of the end,” and all it took was a panelist to go “Gundam SEED! BOOOO!” to get the crowd to follow along. This time, though, when I attended the Mechapocalypse panel, Gundam SEED received largely applause rather than jeers, and it just warms my heart to see a mecha fandom which accepts what SEED brings to the table. We all agree though that SEED Destiny is still terrible.

Actually, the Mechapocalypse panel in general was a good deal of fun. Generally mecha panels are all about going through the history of giant robots and having everyone cheer for their favorites, and while this one retained some of that, it also mixed it up heavily with roundtable discussions of specific themes and characteristics of robot anime, all while keeping it light-hearted. While I’m already familiar with the Japanese Spider-Man, it’s inevitably a crowd pleaser whether you’ve seen it or not.

The other mecha panel (of sorts) I attended was Al’s presentation of the directorial works of Tomino Yoshiyuki, creator of Gundam. Neither full of blind praise for the man nor unfairly critical of his body of work, the panel laid out the various aspects of Tomino’s reputation, particularly his tendency for works to be either fairy light-hearted or particularly violent and morbid, and how both make up Tomino’s overall ouevre into something special. While I know a decent amount about Tomino anime, I also learned a good deal from the panel. I also realized based on audience reaction that Gundam has this strange memetic power which actually exceeds the content of the actual shows. This might be commonplace for anime fans nowadays as a lot of current anime operates actively under such influence, but I recall seeing the shouts of “Char is a lolicon!” back in the late 90s, and I think it’s what fuels some of the odder aspects of most Gundam panels, whether the panelist plans it or not.

The last panel I want to mention is “Anime Mystery Science Theatre 3000.” Although it was my first time seeing it, I learned from others that it was an extremely popular and well-regarded Otakon panel back in the day. Coming out of retirement for Otakon’s 20th anniversary , the Anime MST3K crew took down the GONZO film Origins: Spirits of the Past (aka Gin-iro no Kami no Agito), pointing out the hamfisted environmentalism message alongside the sudden and strange character/romance development points which result in the deformed child of Appleseed and Nausicaa. In addition to being hilarious, I noted that they had indeed kept up with anime over the years, spotting multiple Girls und Panzer references.

Concerts

This year, Otakon decided to hold two double concerts for its four guests, which resulted in Home Made Kazoku starting for TM Revolution and Ishikawa Chiaki preceded Kanno Yohko. I saw Home Made Kazoku back in 2010 at Otakon and TM Revolution back in 2008 at the first New York Comic Con. In both cases they’re among my favorite concerts I’ve attended, and to see them together was quite a treat. One notable thing about the Kazoku/Revolution concert was that it was held in the Mariner Arena, which made lining up in advance almost entirely pointless as you could get a decent seat even at the last minute. It was a pleasant change-up compared to previous years, and unlike the time with JAM Project I was glad to see the arena fill up a decent amount. I heard that at the end the two groups had a superhero teamup and did a song together, but I sadly had to leave before that.

The Ishikawa/Kanno concert was an anomaly before it even began. Unlike every other concert at Otakon, this concert required tickets due to “unforeseen demand,” and tickets could only be picked up at specific times of the day. While I know Kanno is probably the most popular anime composer out there, it seemed to be an intentional choice to up the value of each seat, marketing at its finest. In order to keep up with demand, Otakon actually created an overflow room so that people could watch the live feed from elsewhere within the Baltimore Convention Center.  The concert itself was also quite fantastic, as Ishikawa’s haunting melodies (“Uninstall” is a perennial favorite) led well into Kanno’s part, which was unlike any convention concert I’ve attended. Kanno was alone on stage with a piano, playing a number of her best hits, including of course “Tank!” and “The Real Folk Blues” from Cowboy Bebop. As the concert went on the white covering laid over the piano became a kind of projection screen which displayed graphic animations to accompany her music. It was a full-on aural/visual combination, as much an artistic performance as it was a musical concert. It was definitely another highlight of Otakon 2013.

The title of this con report comes from Kanno’s introduction by her producer, which I found quite memorable.

Baltimore and Friends

The most surprising news to come out of Otakon had to do with the convention itself, as the staff announced that Otakon would be moving out of Baltimore into Washington, DC in 2017. Citing capacity issues, I experienced firsthand the fact that the Baltimore Convention Center is increasingly unable to handle the growing attendance rate of Otakon. Friday afternoon saw for whatever reason extreme, extreme congestion on the third floor that made it so it literally took me 15 minutes to walk what should be a 3-5 minute trip, tops. I do feel pretty bad for Baltimore, as I know that Otakon provides them a good deal of money every year. On a personal level, my friends found a great hotel and great places to eat, and to leave them with the possibility of never returning does fill me with a bit of sadness. That said, I still have three years to chow down and go wild.

By the way, if you ever are in Baltimore and decide to go to Abbey Burger Bistro, I’ll tell you about my custom burger I ordered this year because it was fantastic. Duck meat burger (it’s a meat of the month so it might not be available) cooked medium rare, with brie, grilled onions, mushrooms, pineapple, and red pepper paste on thick toast. Do it.

I didn’t hang with or meet people as much as I had in previous years, but I still enjoyed seeing everyone. In terms of group activities, the highlight of the convention was watching Salty Bet in the hotel room. We happened upon a great night which pitted all of the famous overpowered characters against each other, and the unstoppable force vs. immoveable object that was Berserk vs. Rare Akuma made for an unforgettable evening.

Cosplay

I’ll end off with the semi-standard cosplay photo bonanza. I was not quite as trigger happy with the camera this year, but I did find some definite gems. Special shout out to the Sasha cosplayer who actually handed me a potato afterward.

Episode 7 of Genshiken Second Season covers Chapter 70 as well as parts of Chapter 71, 72, and even 73 of the original manga. You can read my manga analyses there, though keep in mind that the missing parts of 71 through 73 are likely going to appear in Episode 8, so you might want to avoid them for spoilers.

First thing’s first, I must fulfill the promise I made last time and explain each of the cosplays at the beginning of the episode. I’m sure everyone at least recognizes one or two, but just to play it safe I’ll lay them all out.

Sue is dressed as the ever-enigmatic Princess of the Crystal, from Mawaru Penguindrum (a show I would highly recommend).

Kuchiki is Mr. 2, the master of “Okama Kenpou” from One Piece.

Ohno is the titular character from the popular PS3 game Bayonetta.

Other references include Sue’s “Nu-nu-nu Piccon!” which comes from Ramen Saiyuuki (thanks Anonspore) and Ohno’s mention of “HTT,” or “Houkago Tea Time,” the main characters’ band in K-On! who have a tendency to sit around and snack on sweets.

As I continue to watch the anime, one of the things I find interesting about the Genshiken Second Season anime compared to the Genshiken 2 anime is that where the latter would create additional scenes which didn’t exist in the manga, the current series cuts and rearranges things, and that in both cases it was so each series could reach a specific stopping point. With the previous anime, you even had entire episodes devoted to topics which were only barely touched upon, like how Tanaka and Ohno started going out, or an extended 20-something minute look at Ogiue’s BL fantasies.

I’m beginning to wonder if this relatively sped-up Nidaime is having an effect on how the narrative plays out. In the process of hastening things to get to “key points,” I sometimes feel like the meat of Genshiken gets kind of lost, that the little comments and rambling conversations played out in full have a lot of details and bits of characterization which flesh out the psychology and complexes contained within the characters. In looking again at Episode 6 versus Chapter 69, the manga version puts a strong emphasis on Risa feeling like she’s at a crossroads. Even though she enjoys basketball that if she keeps down this path she’ll never have the opportunity to do other things, a problem I don’t think any other Genshiken character has ever had to deal with. In comparison, Risa in the anime seems a bit…abrupt?

Also, the way the show shifts things around so that each episode contains a specific focus as opposed to the relatively constant shifting of the manga makes for somewhat of a different experience. I do wonder if it makes the show feel even more Hato-focused than the manga. In any case, I may just be over-thinking things here, or valuing the manga in my head too much. If I had approached the anime without the prior knowledge, I obviously wouldn’t be able to make comparisons in this manner, though I don’t know if I’d still feel like something’s just a bit off anyway.

Some other things:

Seeing the show zoom in on Male Hato’s drawing made me really want to see an entire comic drawn in that peculiar style. Even if it isn’t “beautiful,” it could be something great.

In this episode the series once again references Ogiue’s past with the assumption that you’d already read the first series, though at least this time the anime’s provided some information in a previous episode about those traumatic events. I feel like there’s a small issue with the Crunchyroll translation in that scene: when Ogiue remembers her past collaborations with Nakajima it’s not that they “usually don’t work out” but that it largely didn’t work out for Ogiue in particular, referencing the fact that her last collaboration with Nakajima was the foundation of Ogiue’s eventual suicide attempt and years of psychological turmoil. It’s sort of nitpicking, but I think that the context is pretty important, and that the translation should reflect that more thoroughly.

As always, I also like to keep track of the voice actors for new characters, which in this case is just Yajima’s old friend from high school you see in the flash back. The mousey friend is voiced by Akutsu Kana, who hasn’t done a lot of work, but was Henrietta in Gunslinger Girl: Il Teatriano.

As for the lack of romantic experience with Yoshitake and Yajima, I think it sort of shows 1) why the club was initially intimidating for Yajima and 2) Yoshitake is extroverted and excitable but not a master of all things. As I did in the manga, I also liked Yoshitake’s statement that part of fashion is communication between girls, albeit in this case aggressive communication. It’s a small way of saying that girls don’t necessarily dress up to be attractive to the opposite sex, as is often assumed when looking at girls who do dress boldly.

With Episode 8 comes the second half of the previously discussed chapters of 70, 71, 72, and 73. You can now safely read them for my thoughts on the narrative developments of Second Season up to this point. Did you notice that Yoshitake’s drinking beer now that she was revealed to be 20? Oh, you wacky censorship.

As I mentioned last time, Episodes 7 and 8 mixed things up from the original manga, transforming this episode into a hyper-focused Hato exploration. I think it really does make the show feel even more focused on Hato than the comic. It’s strange to think about, because basically the same things happen overall. The fact that they added a new fantasy scene while extending another one also contributes to this. Funny that right as I said for episode 7 that the current anime cuts things out  while the previous one adds new scenes, Nidaime ends up putting in some original material, and racey material at that.

Specifically, the new scene involves Hato imagining Madarame walking in on him and then Hato seducing Madarame. While it’s not entirely out of character for him to imagine such a scenario, it feels like the anime is trying to push that angle harder than it was in the comic. Maybe this was done independent of Kio, or maybe Kio oversaw the addition, but author’s original intent or no, I think little things like that quicken the pace of that particular plot thread.

I don’t want these episode looks to merely be about nitpicking though, and I think the events in this episode can be discussed even further from what I originally spoke about in the chapter reviews. For one thing, I find Hato’s mental comment that male pregnancy may be a new thing for male-targeted works, it’s been  a long-standing trope in BL. It’s a funny thing to contemplate, that within the categorical segregation within manga and anime, that ideas arrive at different rates, but that ideas may also cross-pollenate as a result of reaching one before the other. It actually reminds me once again of something Fred Schodt wrote in Manga! Manga!, which is that during the early 80s when the book first came out, the character designs between girl-oriented and guy-oriented stuff began to converge a little, rather than being at their previous extremes. You can say that the current manga and anime industry reflects this as well.

To end off, let’s talk fanservice. There’s a lot of it in this episode, of course more concentrated in the BL-ish areas. Do you want to know what’s fanservice for me?

No, not Makoto and Madarame, more to the left.

Ogiue in a suit. Also this:

Truth be told, I’m still not entirely used to Ogiue’s eyes having so much more detail drawn into them.

WARNING: HEAVY SPOILERS AHEAD

In an essay by Evangelion creator Anno Hideaki found in Gundam: The Origin Volume 1 (Aizouban Edition) titled “Celebrating the Revival of Gundam as Tale,”  Anno argues that anime narratives in recent years have moved away from being “Tales” like the original Gundam, and that “Audiences have come to need work only as an escape from reality, as a comfortable dream, judging everything on the criterion of moe, while creators’ intellectual paucity and the jumble of trivial touches have encouraged that structure.” Referring to current anime and manga as “stagnant,” Anno laments the loss of the Tale in anime and manga, hoping that it can make a return, and even blames himself for contributing to this current state of anime. Thus, when considering the new Evangelion movies as “rebuilds,” I began to suspect that the films might be an attempt to bring the “Tale” back into Evangelion after its influence had broken down the concept in the first place. Although I was not aware of this perspective of Anno’s when I saw the original two movies, after viewing Evangelion 3.33: You Can (Not) Redo I find that the Rebuild of Evangelion films, while not attempting something so simple and shortsighted as turning back the hands of time in order prove the superiority of Tales, are still revisiting Evangelion in such as a way as to try and address the differences between older and newer anime narratives, create a Tale appropriate for contempory culture, and respond to current criticisms of youth culture.

At the beginning Evangelion 3.33, we see protagonist Ikari Shinji waking up 14 years in the future, in a time when much has changed. Shortly after Shinji’s revival, a fight breaks out and it turns out Shinji is aboard a ship called the Wunder, an airship with a powerful laser cannon powered by Shinji’s iconic robot, the EVA-01. As the battle ensues, a combination of characters we’re familiar with and characters entirely new shout about the status of the enemy, which weapons to use, and what strategic options are available, all while Katsuragi Misato stands at the bridge as a stoic and hardboiled captain ready to give orders at just the right time. Although this somewhat resembles depictions from previous films and the television series with the organization NERV and Shinji’s father Gendou at the helm, what this resembles even more is the most classic Tale in all of anime, Space Battleship Yamato. Substitute the EVA-01-powered laser for the Wave Motion Cannon and Misato for Captain Okita, and you more or less have a fight that wouldn’t look out of place in Yamato. Shinji is thrust not just into the future, but into what appears to be a completely different anime story structure.

Rather than simply making it the Tale of Shinji experiencing the simpler world of a Yamato-esque goal and the pieces surrounding it, however—Yamato was about traveling to a distant planet to retrieve an item which would help remove the radiation which had turned the Earth into an inhospitable husk—Evangelion 3.33 complicates the issue. While both Yamato and Evangelion 3.33 take place on a devastated Earth, for the latter it turns out that Shinji’s actions in the previous movie, when he finally stood up for himself and gained the self-activation he never had before, turned out to be the very cause of the planet’s current dire situation, the Third Impact. Shikinami Asuka Langley, who was injured in the last film when Shinji had control of his own EVA forcibly taken away from him, is alive and piloting, but shows absolute disdain for Shinji. Even the one goal he had set out to accomplish, rescuing Ayanami Rei from being absorbed by the enemy Angel, turns out to be a failure, as Rei’s body was never found, most likely absorbed by EVA-01′s cockpit after the two had fully synchronized with the EVA. Instead, what Shinji gets is a clone of Rei devoid of memories, an almost-unthinking soldier who can only follow orders.

This clone Rei in the third film (although technically all of the Rei are clones) is a strikingly powerful presence, acting as a strong argument against the classic criticisms of Ayanami Rei and the characters she has inspired. Typically, Rei is seen as an almost doll-like fetish object, an attractive girl with pale features and no personality whom men can sexualize as the “perfect” passive woman entirely subject to their desires. Here, in Evangelion 3.33, we get the truly subservient version of Rei, a character who is so passive she cannot even read a book without being ordered to do so, and the disturbing nature of this iteration of the character actually highlights just how much characterization and personal will is present in the base character of Ayanami Rei. “You don’t know what’s missing until it’s gone,” as the cliché goes, and the fact that a truly doll-like Rei is so bizarre and alien underlines the fact that Rei is defined not by her loss of humanity but by her pursuit of it. Rei ends the film seeing a gigantic grotesque version of herself and asking, “Is that me?” The titanic Rei acts as an uncanny juxtaposition and jars Rei into becoming self-aware, becoming the potential seed through which she can gain independent thought and conscience. Rei, who is arguaby seen as the classic example of a character whose various visual and narrative components appeal to the “database” mindset which Azuma Hiroki argued back in 1999 was increasingly common in a postmodern Japanese society, re-gains the ability to become part of a Tale which isn’t, a cohesive work which is at the same time complex and contradictory.

This is the narrative space in which Evangelion 3.33 takes place, and the result is that even though this film may appear to be another case of how nothing Shinji does ever goes right, it is not the same sort of internal trauma and pessimism which classically characterizes Evangelion. The depression Shinji suffers and shows in this film does get the closest to the type of introspection that Evangelion is famous for, but given not only the context of the previous films which feature a cast of characters more willing and able to communicate their pain to each other but also the difference in setting the 14-year shift provides in this film even those signature abstract angst moments take on a different set of meanings. Most notably, Shinji’s psychological paralysis is not the result of some indescribable fear or internal agony, but because of his own guilt. This can be seen in the bonding scenes with Nagisa Kaworu, the tragic character whose role in all previous version of Evangelion has been to connect with Shinji on a level no other character had previously been able to before dying at Shinji’s own hands. Kaworu and Shinji’s relationship takes on a somewhat different dynamic, as Kaworu helps to bring Shinji to a place of conviction already familiar to him from the previous film.

Instead, a different tragedy occurs, as Kaworu’s plan to co-pilot the new EVA-13 with Shinji in order to fix the world ravaged by the Third Impact is undermined by the fact that NERV and Gendou have replaced one of the key items capable of restoring the world, instead leading it to a further apocalypse. Kaworu realizes the difference and tries to stop Shinji, but Shinji is so intent on correcting everything that he fails to register Kaworu’s hesitation and he ends up falling for Gendou’s plot. The scene again looks to be another case of Shinji failing, but given everything else shown up to this point, I find that it draws attention not so much to Shinji’s individual suffering, but to the world around Shinji. Whether Shinji follows his own will or whether he listens to others, he still creates disaster, but this Shinji is again a more active Shinji whose problem is not that he’s “unwilling” to help, but that his surrounding environment has forced him into unwinnable situations. Appropriately, this time around Kaworu dies, but not directly because of Shinji.

Shinji’s plight in Evangelion 3.33 mirrors the recent criticisms used against youth culture by media appealing to older generations. Whether inside or outside of Japan, the current generation is seen as a group of selfish good-for-nothings who want and expect everything handed to them, instead of knowing the value of sacrifice and hard work. Whether they’re referred to as “NEETs” or “Generation Me,” Shinji and Evangelion 3.33 bring to attention the idea that, while we can place blame on them, the previous generations are not absolved of blame; the world the children inherit is the world given to them.

Ultimately, I find that the Rebuild of Evangelion films are trying to create a Tale similar to Yamato and Gundam, but in a way which is consciously trying to take into account the era in which we live. At the end of Evangelion 3.33, Shinji is once again emotionally distraught and paralyzed over the horrible consequences of his actions, when Asuka literally drags him out of his cockpit and tells him that he can’t simply sit still. Rei joins them. The previous two films had already established that the characters were able to bridge the emotional gaps they were unable to overcome in the original television series, and though the space of 14 years after the Third Impact had bred in Asuka a deep resentment and anger towards Shinji, that one scene shows how the connection is still there. My prediction for the “Tale of Evangelion” as expressed by the four films is thus: A 14-year-old boy is stranged from his father and suffering deep personal agony is thrust into a situation far greater than him, and though he is told to sacrifice himself for the greater cause, through the connections he makes with his peers he finds that he would lose too much in the process, including his own identity. This prioritization of the self and what he finds valuable in life does not come without its own consequences, but it becomes the potential ground for him, and those like him, to find their own solutions to the problems of the world. Of course, the fourth film is yet to debut, so we’ll see if I’m right.

Have you been enjoying the new Genshiken anime? I call the manga of Nidaime “Genshiken II” because that’s how I started, while I call the anime “Genshiken Second Season” because that’s how it’s widely advertised in English. While it makes things easier in terms of separating my anime and manga posts, I do feel a bit contradictory or incongruous in doing so. Anyway, here’s Chapter 91, which is a turning point, the latest of many.

After Yajima talks to Hato in an effort to tell him that he can’t simply dump Madarame onto Angela so he can get back to reading BL, Ohno calls to ask Hato to complete the Bodacious Space Pirates cosplay as the main character. Eager to rid himself of the fujoshi that is his mental alter ego, Hato agrees, but by doing so actually appears to reaffirm his feelings on Madarame. Hato apologizes to Angela, but Angela has other ideas, simultaneously confessing the mutual feelings of her, Hato, and Sue. Madarame, like a deer caught in headlights, tries to run but accidentally slips and fractures his wrist (again) when he sees Keiko.

I quite like how Kio Shimoku writes and draws Angela, as for all of her simplistic character traits she still comes across as a fully developed person. Angela makes various comments about basically having a foursome, but I don’t think we’re supposed to interpret that as her wanting that sort of relationship. Instead, I think the fact that her words intentionally sound like they’re coming straight of an eroge is what’s important. Previous chapters have established that Angela is extremely savvy and strategic when it comes to putting the moves on Madarame, such as Angela hoping that if she’s aggressive enough the timid and virginal Madarame will use her as masturbation material, and I have no doubt in my mind that she’s trying to appeal to that basic otaku side of Madarame, to give him the temptation to fuse fantasy and reality in his mind. There’s also the fact that Ohno stops interpreting out of embarrassment, so Angela has to be as braindead obvious with her words as possible.

Of course, the other component of all this is that Angela is blasting through the ambiguity in a way which normally Sue would, but this is not Sue’s area of comfort at all. It’s funny how the more social and perceptive characters in Genshiken have generally been the ones to point out budding feelings and similar developments where the dorks of the group have been oblivious, like when Keiko nonchalantly asked if Sasahara and Ogiue are dating before they started doing so. Even though Keiko makes only a brief appearance at the end, I think she provides a good amount of interesting material to analyze as well.

When I think about it, Keiko and Angela appear to be approaching Madarame in the same way, by trying to actively appeal to his otaku sensibilities. The way I see it, the key difference is that Angela is an otaku herself while Keiko is not. Angela is using her knowledge of anime, manga, and video games, her experience interacting with fellow otaku, and even how her own mind works, to feed into Madarame’s fantastic desires. Keiko, on the other hand, is giving herself a more natural appearance, maybe even one closer to Kasukabe’s, in an effort to appear less a part of the Shibuya world which most otaku reject. The fact that Angela has a dynamite body may or may not play a factor in this battle.

Hato’s feelings meanwhile are practically overwhelming him at this point, and the clarity that this chapter brings also serves to complicate things further. As silly as this may sound, I find significance in the fact that the “other Hato” has a different breast size compared to the “other Kaminaga” who has been appearing in Hato’s consciousness lately, as it basically means they’re two aspects of his mind. Both are representative of something inside him, but the other Hato, with her larger chest, speaks towards Hato’s ideal of the generic woman he’s aiming to visually emulate. As mentioned before in a 4koma, when Hato crossdresses he tries to have as many “female” signifiers in his appearance, and breasts are one of them. The other Kaminaga, on the other hand, has small breasts like the actual person, which I interpret as Hato tying that persona closer to the real Kaminaga, or more specifically her words, and her ability to cut to the heart of the matter. The fact that Kaminaga is literally the person he was originally trying to emulate has to mean something as well.

Aside from a panel or two, there wasn’t really an Ogiue content this chapter, but I do find an off-hand remark by Kuchiki to be interesting. Kohsaka and Sasahara mention to Hato that there’s nothing quite like the wrath of not so much a scorned woman but a humiliated one, which causes Kuchiki to refer to them as the “非DT,” or “not virgins,” to which Madarame and Kugayama react nervously. While Kohsaka is generally seen as the attractive guy, there’s something hilarious about having Sasahara considered even remotely close to being a stud.

This time, to finish, I’d actually like to talk a bit about the art, which I typically don’t get into much during these reviews. The same page where Kuchiki calls the two of them “not virgins” is rather nice, I think, because of the way the panel of Kohsaka up top anchors that small moment in time, as well as Kohsaka’s words (“I don’t think you can take thing back at this point”). This isn’t just because it’s a large panel, but the lack of a background contrasts with the busier panels before and after, which in turn makes that panel act as both a breather as well as a moment of impact. On top of that, it rests well at the top of the page and makes for a balanced composition. I think in general Kio is good at using these large empty panels, and if you look through previou chapters I’m sure you’ll find more examples.

This is an interview with Tachikawa Yuzuru and Suwa Michihiko, both of whom are involved with the Anime Mirai project, an annual Japanese government-funded program to help teach young animators the skills they need to improve Japan’s animation industry. Tachikawa is the director of one such Anime Mirai-funded work, Death Billiards. Suwa is better known as the producer for works including Detective Conan, Magic Knight Rayearth, and City Hunter, and is part of the Anime Mirai selection committee.

So the first thing I want to ask you pertaining to Anime Mirai is, because the project developed from wanting to help young animators, what is your opinion of the current state of anime for young animators in Japan? Would you like to see a future perhaps where the AnimeMirai project is no longer necessary because there are so many opportunities for young animators?

Tachikawa: So the reality is that when it comes to the number of animators versus the number of projects, the projects are greatly outnumbering the animators. The upper staff (senpai) is supposed to teach the younger (kouhai), but that’s not really happening these days. To speak bluntly, the studio doesn’t have much time or money, so it’s sort of centered around making the project. So since Anime Mirai is being funded by the country, I hope that it will be a starter for raising new hopes for the anime industry.

In the end, what would be best is if the upper staff at the studio would be able to teach the younger staff and that way Anime Mirai would no longer be needed. That would be the best future we could see.

You said the Anime Mirai project is funded by the Japanese government. What unique advantage does this provide, the fact that it is state funded?

Suwa: So the country funds Anime Mirai with I think 38 million yen, check back with me for the numbers. Sfter Anime Mirai makes a project, throughout the year the project will be shown as a movie. But after that, the movie/show will be in the hands of the companies, and it will then be a new project for the companies to get a profit out of Anime Mirai, so I think it will be a new way of doing things.

This question is about Death Billiards because it uses a lot of 3DCG in its animation of billiards. I know 3DCG has been seen in a variety of ways, such as a shortcut, a new form of animation unto itself, and as a cost-saving measure. What is your opinion of using 3D computer graphics in anime?

Tachikawa: Personally I don’t like anime becoming all 3DCG, it has to be a balance of both. The importance would be using 3DCG in the right place at the right time. The balls in Death Billiards are 3DCG, but the project had plans to teach the younger ones how to draw the more human parts, so we left the billiard balls and such to 3DCG.

Name: Rittoku, Kanae (六徳カナエ)
Alias: Kana (カナ）, Ankoku Miko (暗黒皇子), Anko Kumiko (あんこくみこ)
Relationship Status: Complicated
Origin: Fudanshism: Fudanshi Shugi na Seikatsu

Information:
Rittoku Kanae is a teenager attending Kentei Academy with a love for cosplaying as men, gothic lolita fashion, and visual kei. Believing that her developing figure prevents her from being the ideal image of a girl (something she derives from visual kei), Kanae tends to minimize the appearance of her very large breasts through the use of wraps and loose clothing. It is Kanae’s experience in this regard that allows her to immediately notice that the gothic lolita fujoshi “Amane” is actually a boy. Despite the fact that she harbors feelings for not only Amane but Amane’s true self (fellow classmate Miyano Amata), she does not realize the two are the same for a very long time.

Kanae’s hobby is to compose dark poetry on her website under the pen name Ankoku Miko, “priestess of darkness.” Her favorite band is Beni Kagerou, a two-man band featuring male crossplayers. She is also a fan of the anime Omakase Tentel, though not to the extent of her friends and acquaintances.

Fujoshi Level:
Rittoku is not an extreme fujoshi, as her other hobbies seem to hold higher priority in her life. On Miyano Tamae’s fujoshi rating system, she is a “Visual Kei (Bangya) Fujoshi” with a Delusion Power level of 2500 and an Economic Power of 200.

Though I doubt he needs introduction, Seki Tomokazu is a well-known and highly celebrated Japanese voice actor, who has performed roles such as Domon Kasshu in G Gundam, Tanaka Souichirou in Genshiken, and Takahashi Keisuke in Initial D, among many, many others.

Hello, welcome to Otakon! Actually, a few years ago when you were a guest at Otakon I actually asked you a question about Hiyama Nobuyuki, but now I’d like to ask you about your recent work.

So the first question I’d like to ask is your role in Gyrozetter as “Mic Man Seki,” because I’m wondering, as you share the same name, if you were the inspiration for the character, or is it merely coincidence?

So originally the character was called a different name, and his profile was different, but the staff said, “It’s Seki doing it, so we should probably change this around.” So they decided to change the name, change the profile, and now the character is me.

I’d like to ask you about another recent role you had, your voice work in Gokaiger. How is voice acting for a live-action show different from anime, and how do you feel about your voice coming out of children’s toys?

So when I was small, I was also playing with tokusatsu toys, and to think that children nowadays play with those toys and that my voice comes out of it, I feel very honored and very happy that children are playing with those toys.

Regarding acting, I don’t really differentiate anime acting from live-action. It would be the same, but then the only thing I would really care about is to say it very heroically and courageously, as the word “goukai” in Gokaiger implies.

My next question is actually about Genshiken, of which I’m a fan, because you play Tanaka, a character very different from your other roles. What was it like playing Tanaka, and because of the recent cast change, although I know this may be a difficult question, if you know the reasons for the change?

So regarding the character Tanaka, he really likes figures and plamos and such, and I personally really like models, and although this character is very different from the ones I’ve been doing, his inside, as a person who likes models, is something I could relate to very much. I feel that the casting and such were matched up for that purpose.

As for the cast change in Genshiken, it does sort of happen at times when the sequel of a series goes on with a different company or production, and I thought I would love to do it again, but since I took on other roles after other people in similar ways, I would just need to term it as an “adult world.” I don’t have much to say.

I would also like to ask you about working with Mizuhashi Kaori, especially in Genshiken.

Mizuhashi Kaori is small but very energetic. She’s a very nice girl, but I don’t get to see her much these days. She’s about this big. *Seki puts his hands about a forearm’s length apart, to which I do the same*

*Laughs* You don’t believe me.

You’re known for voicing a lot of powerful characters, but your strangest role may be Mepple in Pretty Cure. How did you get that role, and how was it playing the character? Was it a challenge?

About Mepple, this offer came in to me, and they told me to do it as I like it, so I thought I should just do it in my regular voice. That day, on my very first recording on Mepple, I was feeling really good, and I decided to do it with a sort of high voice. They told me, if you can do that for an entire year, please do it. So, the only really good day I had was just that one day, and afterwards I was having a really hard time doing that one voice. Now that I think about it, it was a year of really hard work.

My final question has to do with voice acting. A few years ago, Mitsuya Yuji was a guest at Otakon, and he talked about how in the old days voice acting was a side job for theatre and drama actors. Nozawa Masako has also mentioned outside experience is also valuable, as opposed to acting exclusively in anime or voice acting. What do you think of this advice, and do you think it’s possible to be a strong voice actor without that outside background?

I think both opinions are correct. Whether you have influence or not, it’s all about how hard you work yourself. But, I am in the generation where Ms. Masako was my teacher, my sensei, and I learned from her that to be a good voice actor you have to be very powerful without just the voice actor part, that you need to be very good at using your body to act and such. From how she raised me, I think that’s very true, and outside experience helps very much, but the recent generation don’t really follow that example, so it really is up to the person.

The Initial D character, not the VOTOMS director.

Takahashi Ryousuke, leader of the Akagi Red Suns, the White Comet, and the creator of Project D is one of the most prominent and important characters in Initial D and so inevitably he appears in every main Initial D anime. Now, each stage of Initial D has come out at different times, sometimes years apart, and even the art style of the original manga has evolved over the course of more than a decade. Character designs change according to the artist’s whim.

That still doesn’t explain how Ryousuke manages to look wildly different from one sequel to the next, while other prominent characters such as Takumi and Keisuke remain relatively intact.

Look at the guy. His face can’t stay the same size, his hair changes back and forth between blue and brown, his bone structure morphs as well. The only things that remain remotely consistent are his thick eyebrows and his full lips. Even his hair, which is roughly the same style until Fifth Stage, still undergoes some peculiar shifts. The closest he gets to looking similar is between Third Stage and Fourth Stage, and even that’s a bit of a stretch.

Anyway, I’m still trying to figure out why all of the anime have struggled to decide on a proper hair color for Ryousuke. Maybe it’s like how Raoh is blond in the manga but has brown hair in the anime?

I’ve been away for the last couple of weeks so it’s time to do some catchup! Episode 9 covers Chapters 74 and 75. Also, there’s quite a bit of cosplay in this episode, and luckily for me a Japanese blogger Renko’s already laid out all of the references.

Sue = Meruru (Atelier Meruru)

Ohno = Asama Tomo (Horizon in the Middle of Nowhere)

Yoshitake = Inahime (Samurai Warriors)

Sawatari = Kunoichi (Samurai Warriors)

Fukuda = Okuni (Samurai Warriors)

Mimasaka = Leia Rolando (Tales of Eclypsia)

Yajima = Hirano Kouta (Highschool of the Dead)

Kuchiki = Matsudaira Katakuriko (Gintama)

The sheer amount of Ogiue content in this episode makes me happy, just as it did with the manga. You can really see her take center stage at least in the first half of the episode, and the sheer range of facial expressions that are not coming from deep anger and frustration is quite satisfying. There’s also something hilarious about Sasahara essentially roleplaying as a fictional version of himself.

Speaking of Sasahara, the new voices at this point are old news, but I have to remark that Sasahara’s voice really throws me off. It’s like his old voice was just the perfect shade of average that anything else sounds odd. Moreover, Sasahara doesn’t appear often enough for me to get used to him.

When it comes to adapting from manga to anime, I thought the decision to turn Yoshitake’s exposition into a Star Wars-esque text scroll was clever and properly captured the incessantly convoluted nature of her plot. The manga conveys this through the sheer amount of text in Yoshitake’s word bubble, but obviously that doesn’t fly in the animated format. Interestingly, when Yajima hits Yoshitake with the manga, you can see that it’s a Monthly Afternoon (the magazine Genshiken runs in), with its most famous and longest-running title Aa! Megami-sama on the spine.

(Seriously, Oh My Goddess! is still running).

Another thing I’ve been thinking about is the whole gendered pronouns thing (whether to refer to Hato as a “he” or a “she”), and while Japanese doesn’t typically use gendered pronouns the way English does, perhaps a comparison could be done between which characters refer to Hato as “Hato-kun” and which use “Hato-chan.” Those aren’t strictly gender-divided (guys can be referred to with -chan and girls with -kun), but it may speak to how they personally see Hato.

In the end, of all the things to happen in this episode, I especially hope people are enjoying the new characters’ old friends. Mimasaka comes across as the most shy and awkward of possibly any character in Genshiken (with her voice actor doing quite a good job showing this). You can also actually hear Yajima slipping into an accent when talking with Mimasaka, which is again a nice touch for the anime. I also have to wonder if Konno’s massive saucer eyes in the opening had people wondering just who she is. She doesn’t appear much, but she pretty much became my favorite of the new Nidaime characters just from her expressions. Given that Ogiue also had fantastic facial expressions, that might just be more indicative of my tastes than anything else.

As for Kaminaga’s debut, I find Noto Mamiko’s performance to be pretty spot-on with what I imagined.

Name: Morikawa, Rion (森川璃音)
Alias: Sohora (そほら), Gojappe (ゴジャッペ)
Relationship Status: Single
Origin: Fudanshism: Fudanshi Shugi na Seikatsu

Information:
Morikawa Rion is a school nurse at Kentei Academy who, unbeknownst to her fellow stadd and even the otaku in the student body, is a famed BL doujinshi author. Better known as “Sohora” to all of her fans, she is the founder of the popular Ten x Miko circle Gojappe, and is a regular attendee of Comic Manga Market. It is with her direct help that Miyano Amata, brother of fellow Gojappe member Miyano Tamae, initially transforms into the gothic lolita “girl” Amane in order to work the desk at Comic Manga Market.

Whether as a nurse or as a doujin artist, Sohora is adept at caring for others and listening to their problems. She is a fan of the magical girl series Omakase Tentel, and also has a thing for seemingly opposite genres, the Salaryman and the shota. In her mid-20s, she is also the oldest fujoshi in and around Kentei Academy.

Fujoshi Level:
When Morikawa once found herself with a seemingly insurmountable writer’s block, she was able to use a simple experience talking to a couple of the students at Kentei Academy to overcome it. Tamae’s ranking system has her as a “Closet Fujoshi,” whose Delusion Power is at a somewhat low 700, but is bolstered by an extremely high Economic Power of 5000.

Mysteries melt away this episode! Covering chapters 76 and 77, it’s one of the more significant parts of the whole series.

In previous episode reflections (a better term than review I now realize), I mentioned how elements from the manga were cut and shifted, sometimes for thematic consistency within an episode, but more often because the Nidaime anime clearly has a particular end goal in mind. With Episode 10, we’re finally able to see whether or not this “cutting of the fat” has paid off, more or less. It already began with the previous episode to an extent, but this is when the revelations truly begin, and it’ll continue into the next episode too.

In this regard, I think that Episode 10 is probably the strongest one of the season so far. Whether it’s because of Mamiko’s excellent performance as Kaminaga, the portrayal of the way Hato’s denial/hiding of his inner self to others weighs heavily on him, Konno’s amazing facial expressions, or some combination of the three, I think that this episode communicates all of the complex emotions which make up Genshiken. The manga chapters were already great and enlightening, and the adaptation does them justice. In some cases, it even makes things clearer. One example is when Hato sees his brother driving with Kaminaga, with the clear implication being romance. In the manga, Yuuichirou’s expression is kind of ambiguous, but in the anime you can clearly see him smiling. It wasn’t necessary, but it helps communicate that information more overtly.

When I say good adaptation, though, I don’t simply mean that it’s accurate or 1:1 in terms of elements. The anime added an additional thing about Kaminaga moving in with Hato and his brother, but in the manga Hato lives on his own in an apartment far from the university so that he can maintain both his BL and crossdressing. They even visited it in one chapter, which was cut from the anime. The original manga also shows that Konno had dyed her hair in between high school and college, while the anime has always been brunette. It doesn’t impact the story much, but it is curious.

Yamamoto Nozomi also probably puts out some of her best Ogiue performance as well this episode. I still give the edge to Mizuhashi, but Yamamoto really displays a sense of Ogiue, particularly her delivery of Ogiue saying that turning your own boyfriend into BL material is “normal.” It really gives off the vibe that this is an area where Ogiue has not only a lot of experience, but a lot of history, while also showing how far Ogiue has come from her previous self.

I really like how the anime took the scene of Sue mimicking Rei from Fist of the North Star from the manga and added the after-images and laser lines from Fist of the North Star‘s anime. Basically, the anime adaptation of Genshiken enhanced its portrayal of a manga scene parodying a famous manga by utilizing the iconic effects from that famous manga’s own adaptation. The Crunchyroll subs do not make the reference obvious: Sue says, “Nanto Kyuukyoku Ougi!” and likely the translator either misheard or didn’t even hear the “Nanto” part.

One of the categories in the Fujoshi Files is “Fujoshi Level,” which is a not-so-serious way of describing just how polluted the mind of a particular character can be. While I actually don’t create specific rankings and try to give just a general impression in them, here you could see an obvious hierarchy: Kaminaga is off the deep end, Ogiue is right behind her along with Hato, and Konno and Fuji are definitely not as powerful. It makes me want to perhaps write up a full Fujoshi/Fudanshi Tier List one of these days.

Now comes the other big moment of the new anime. Of course I’d have a lot of thoughts on what transpires this episode, which you’ll find in the equivalent manga analyses: Chapters 78, 79, and 80.

I think there’s little doubt that Madarame’s confession is one of the most significant events in Genshiken. I’ve felt sort of conflicted that it happened because it is possible for someone to move on from a former love without the confession and rejection you see so often in anime and manga, but the series makes it clear that Madarame was incapable of doing so, no matter how hard he tried. Looking back, the idea of “freeing” Madarame to some extent implies making it so that he’ll be open to others.

There’s a fairly significant mistranslation in the Crunchyroll subs, at the very end of the episode. After Kasukabe starts to cry, the translation has Madarame say, “Now I know that Kasukabe-san cries easily.” This isn’t quite right: what Madarame actually says is more along the lines of, “I already knew that Kasukabe-san cries easily.” It’s a reference to the events of Volume 4 of the manga (Episode 11 of the first anime), when Kasukabe accidentally starts a fire which gets the club into trouble. Though she put on a tough face, her guilt over the accident caused her to start crying. Essentially, Madarame’s line is supposed to reference how much he’s paid attention to Saki over the years.

It’s probably significant then that Keiko and Saki both notice how Hato pays a lot of attention to Madarame. Or is it?!

Some of the timing of the confession itself turned out different, and there isn’t quite as much impact from Madarame’s response to the line about the relationship that might have been, but I think the episode overall does an all right job of it. The manga devoted an entire chapter to just the two of them in the club room, mirroring previous chapters which did the same.

As for the actual confession and reaction, I could see how Kasukabe’s response could be interpreted as cruel, though I don’t necessarily think so. One thing anime viewers may not be aware of is that Kasukabe’s line about how a relationship with Madarame might have been a possible future is actually also a reference to another series by Kio Shimoku called Spotted Flower. In it, characters very (but not entirely) similar to Madarame and Saki, an otaku and his non-otaku wife who knew him since college, are married and expecting their first child. In fact, the title itself is a reference to them: Madara means spotted (which also explains the Naruto character), and Saki refers to the blooming of flowers. It’s a sort of holy emblem for Saki x Mada fans, but at the same time perhaps incredibly cruel itself for very nearly giving those shippers what they want before collapsing the entire thing like a house of cards.

Cruelty abounds.

Kill la Kill, the new anime from the creators of Gurren-Lagann and Inferno Cop, is pretty much living up to the huge amount of hype surrounding it. For me, there are a few areas pertaining to the visual element of the show which really stand out.

1) Kill la Kill excels at creative sight gags.

When it comes to works that are humorously absurd, often times we say they succeed despite themselves because the humor is because it takes itself seriously and doesn’t realize its own power. In contrast, we then say other works fail to capture this glory because they tried too hard. I find Kill la Kill generally hits that sweet spot where the humor is clearly intentional, but doesn’t go overboard in extending its jokes, so it’s even more possible to appreciate its cleverness.

Two scenes from episode 3 stick out in this respect. The first happens at the beginning of the fight between Ryuko and Satsuki, when their combined willpower literally blows away the surrounding bystanders. It’s a pretty typical sight in anime which wants to establish the sheer power of its primary characters. Then, in the next shot, Kill la Kill extends that sequence to the point of absurdity by having the bystanders’ bodies continuously flying through the air. The shot lasts for about 5 seconds, and during that time it’s easy to wonder if there are more bodies being blasted away than were actually standing there moments before.

The second is after the battle, when Satsuki says to Ryuko that in order to fight her she’ll have to go through her goons, her goons’ goons, and her goons’ goons’ goons. Kill la Kill sets the image up in a somewhat abstract fashion, much like one of those old dramatic Dezaki Osamu painted stills (which I just found out recently is called a “harmony” shot thanks to Anipages). Then, as the show switches to a bird’s eye point of view, you realize that Satsuki and all of her minions are actually standing there like they’re posing for a group photo.

These sight gags stretch their conventions just far enough to pull you out a bit, but neither of them overstay their welcome. Both of them use the screen to create strong images, which brings me to my next point.

2) Kill la Kill has strong image composition.

The series uses a lot of the extreme poses key to a Kanada Yoshinori-style animation, but even in still shots and pans Kill la Kill exhibits a lot of intelligence and creativity which both enhances the mood of the show while also encouraging an appreciation in the animation (or lack thereof).

This shot of Ryuko and the tennis club captain from episode 2 literally consists off two figures sliding and changing size against a background. There’s little to no animation, and yet the moment helps to create tension because the initial image of the two standing away from each other on the tennis court gradually turns into a face-to-face confrontation with the net acting as a visual separator between the two. I find it really impressive because it was able to do so much with so little, and it’s a trend you’ll see throughout each episode.

In the same episode, Ryuko confronts Satsuki. Satsuki begins to swing her sword and she grows to massive proportions on-screen to convey the idea that she’s a massive threat and that she’s much more powerful than she looks. Obviously from the context of the show she’s not actually getting bigger, and this sort of visual representation reminds me of two things.

First, is an American football manga mentioned in Fred Schodt’s Manga! Manga!, where a tiny Japanese player blasts through a massive American roughly five times his size. Second, is Fist of the North Star, and I don’t just mean the giant mohawk thugs. That series often exaggerates the size of Kenshiro’s foes yet shows them to be relatively even in size moments later, just to transmit danger.

3) Kill la Kill makes a lot of anime references but doesn’t overdo it.

This point relates heavily to the first.

Kill la Kill makes numerous references to old anime each episode, but doesn’t depend on them for success. In episode 1 Mako can be seen performing a Kinniku Buster from Kinnikuman on her little brother, but it’s never referred to by name, and there isn’t any sort of big fancy scene where she jumps from the air and lands with an impact. They save those moments for the actual fights.

A lot of the anime and manga references involve Mako, which makes me think that this is part of her purpose as a character. In episode 3, she goes to “shield” Ryuko but more to give a strange speech about how Ryuko should get naked. During that lively sequence this shows up:

That’s right, Kill la Killi threw in a Space Runaway Ideon reference (see 14 seconds into the video). Evangelion is known to be inspired in part by Ideon, and to have ex-Gainax employees bringing it out doesn’t surprise me too much. Again, the reference doesn’t linger too long, is more about the ridiculousness of Mako as a character, and is actually a little easy to miss.

There’s also the recurring use of stars blinking in and out in Kill la Kill. It reminds me of the opening to Evangelion, right before the title logo appears, and I really suspect that it’s intentional.

Actually, I think Mako herself is an anime reference, as her hairstyle and position as the main character’s best friend immediately reminded me of the character Maki from Aim for the Ace! Ryuko’s messier hair even somewhat resembles Aim for the Ace! heroine Hiromi’s style relative to Maki’s. That Mako’s first name is written in Katakana like Maki in the Aim for the Ace! anime, that she is a tennis club member, and that her membership sets up the conflict in episode 2 all point towards this being likely.

In each case the references aid the show but do not dominate it. If someone fails to get certain references (and given the amount it’s going to happen to pretty much everyone, including me) then it doesn’t unravel the humor or make the series any less visually strong. If a reference does get through, it is capable of becoming not only a matter of spotting the homage but also considering how Kill la Kill relates to that older work. For instance, there’s this interesting relationship between Kill la Kill, Gurren-Lagann, Aim for the Top! Gunbuster, and Aim for the Ace! that I’d like to unravel in terms of how these shows approach similar ideas.

I also have other thoughts about the narrative and thematic elements of the show, but I’ll save those for another time. If you want to check out Kill la Kill though, it’s being simulcast from a variety of sites: Crunchyroll, Hulu, and for international audiences, Daisuki.

When the Robotech/Voltron crossover comic was announced a few months ago, my immediate response was, “Why?” Of course the answer is “nostalgia grab,” but there’s something strange about both of these works and their continued presence in the geek public eye (and perhaps even beyond that). Unlike Transformers which not only has a huge variety of toys both old and new, as well as a long history of cartoons both from America and Japan (not to mention the live action films), both Robotech and Voltron do not really renew themselves, aside from the occasional thing like the The Shadow Chronicles or The Third Dimension.

Though this speaks more about the people I associate with, I can’t say I’ve ever talked to anyone, online or offline, who is hardcore into either Robotech or Voltron. I know that there’s a Robotech community of course (they even have an official site for it), though I have little interest in it. With Voltron, I know people who have fond memories of it, myself included, but the foundation that Voltron has in geek culture seems not only deeper than Robotech‘s but to the extent that, when you say cool giant robot with a signature finisher, Lion Voltron is just the default, or it shares that spot with the Megazord from Power Rangers. It’s like Voltron as a source of nostalgia goes so far beyond itself that the vague perception of it exceeds the influence of the actual anime. 

What’s funny about a show like Voltron and its emblematic presence in US geek culture as de facto super robot is that the process of dubbing and adaptation that turned the anime King of Beasts Golion and Armored Fleet Dairugger into Voltron: Defender of the Universe happened with different anime in different countries to similar effect. In the Philippines, Voltes V exploded with popularity. In France and Italy, UFO Robo Grendizer captured attention as Goldorak and Goldrake respectively (with success in the Middle East to boot). In Brazil, Gloizer X became O Pirata do Espaço, the country’s first real exposure to giant robots. While it’s possible say that this was all a matter of timing and that they’re all interchangeable in that respect, I do think that the specific properties of each show had a major impact on how each country perceived giant robots from that point forward (I’m less sure about Gloizer X so if any Brazilians want to help, feel free to leave a comment).

One thing that I do believe plays a role in how these series become more specific in their nostalgic output is the level of support the original works have in Japan. I visited France recently, and when I went into the comic stores I would regularly see displays of Grendizer merchandise. Whether it was the Super Robot Chogokin or the Soul of Chogokin or a chibi version, it was all straight from Japan, sitting prominently in the store. Grendizer has enough cultural presence in Japan that it can continue to get these toys and even a fairly stable presence in Super Robot Wars, whereas Golion has had to content itself with just one Nintendo DS appearance. In lieu of support from Japan, Voltron‘s had to carve its own place, and often times it’s not even from the company World Events which holds the Voltron license but from fans conjuring it up in their own minds. And while Robotech is an utter legal mess due to the way it stifles the presence of Macross in the US, if you put that aside part of Robotech‘s prolonged presence comes from the fact that its fans want new Robotech to constantly feel like old Robotech, whereas Macross changes according to the whims of its dark lord Kawamori Shouji.

Actually I wouldn’t mind at all if Voltron got a revival with a solid piece of fiction to support it which doesn’t rely too much on nostalgia. I know we got Voltron Force, but the less said about that the better.

When it comes to manga oriented around a fujoshi main character, there are two big trends.  First, they tend to come from pretty unknown authors in fairly obscure magazines. Second, the story typically revolves heavily around how their love of yaoi impacts the heroine’s relationships. Often there’s a romantic bent to this, where the girl’s fantasies directly impact her interactions with the guy she’s into. Even titles I adore such as Genshiken and Fujoshissu! possess these qualities in part, and while the fujoshi heroine subgenre is not exactly big, it’s produced a lot of similar works.

This is why Tora to Ookami is such a fine oddity. Having ran in Betsuma, which has been home to other popular titles such as Lovely Complex and Aishite Knight, what’s even more interesting is its creator, Kamio Youko. Fans of shoujo might recognize her as the author of Boys Over Flowers, a title which is spoken of in the same breath as other big shoujo works such as Nana, and has been adapted not only into anime but multiple live-action dramas around the world in different languages. In a certain sense, this title is quite a leap for fujoshi-themed manga, skimming along the mainstream even if not directly a part of it.

What I find especially impressive about Tora to Ookami, however, is how it addresses the second trend. A lot of times fujoshi characters, whether they’re in the spotlight or on the sidelines, are fujoshi first and foremost. Their hobbies revolve heavily around anime and manga if not yaoi outright. They’ll throw out random lines from an anime, most often Gundam or Glass Mask, or just have a one-note gimmick (constant pairings or glasses, for instance). They either have, or have had in the past, personalities and appearances which tend towards the image of the shy and nerdy girl. With Mii, the heroine of Tora to Ookami, however, you get a stronger sense of a well-rounded individual where she’s certainly into yaoi but it doesn’t dominate her life, nor her approach to interacting with others.

While Mii writes BL fiction, she’s also a chef who works at her family’s small restaurant, and that aspect of her plays a much more significant role in Tora to Ookami than her googly eyes over seeing her two love interests interact with each other. She may be a fujoshi, but she’s also a strong-willed person who’s more than willing to sacrifice her social life in order to help her grandma maintain their restaurant because it’s what she cherishes. Liking BL is just a natural facet of her among others, and because Mii’s fujoshi identity isn’t the central focus of the manga, her romance is able to develop in a way where the outcome isn’t simply determined by who can accept her for being a fujoshi. Although her fandom pops up occasionally in her interactions with her love interests, especially the titular Tora and Ookami, it’s pretty much never about wanting them to act more like characters from BL manga, nor does it involve confusing fantasy with reality.

I don’t know how well Tora to Ookami did in Japan, but six volumes is a fairly decent run, and at the very least it shows that fujoshi heroine manga don’t have to be limited by the fujoshi “gimmick.” As much as I enjoy the stories which do utilize the recurring fujoshi manga trends, Mii’s character is rather refreshing because of how she has more to her than yaoi, but also doesn’t trivialize that aspect of her. She’s believable as a fujoshi, but also believable as a human being.

It’s winter break. After the old guard of Genshiken (+ Kuchiki) discuss Madarame’s sudden romantic prospects from their old school otaku perspective, Madarame finds himself being visited by Yoshitake and Yajima. Of the four potential partners (Hato, Keiko, Angela, Sue), Yoshitake recommends Keiko for Madarame due to her similarities with Saki. The chapter ends with the image of Hato visiting home, where he meets his brother Yuuichirou and Kaminaga, who are pretty much married now if not already so.

A lot of previous chapters have been some sort of closure, whether that’s with Madarame and Saki, or Hato’s feelings, but this one feels like a transition. Between the mention of Yoshitake’s sister Risa taking college entrance exams and Ogiue and Hato visiting back home on top of everything Madarame is going through, it gives me an impression of a change coming almost on the level of Ogiue’s appearance and the shift in focus over to her. Given how many chapters Genshiken II has run already this kind of makes sense, as Ogiue appeared at a similar point.

I’m really impressed with how the manga portrays Madarame handling suddenly being the center of romantic attention, because I find that his concerns and his thought process make complete sense for his character. When given time to dwell on the idea, he imagines a simultaneous arrival of all four at his doorstep, like a scene straight out of Infinite Stratos, because anime and manga are his primary “harem” imagery even more than just straight up pornography. When Madarame hesitates in choosing, his explanation is that it is such an unfathomable situation because he expected attracting even one member of the opposite sex to be a miracle, and given his self-image his words rings with the familiarity of truth. At the same time, I don’t think he’s being entirely honest because if he was really okay with any girl, he would have had some wild times with Angela (who’s gone back to America) already.

In Madarame’s situation I think we can see both the exploration of the otaku or geek mind when it comes to romance, as well as an investigation of the harem genre. Madarame’s attitude towards women is initially a kind of passive desperation, a case of “anyone will do” because just that prospect of romance is so out of reach based on his self-image. When given a choice, however, his mind has to adjust because desperation is no longer the driving force because now he has to take the others into account, as well as what he really wants. Obviously he doesn’t really want a harem ending or just sex based on his actions (or more accurately inaction), and I think he’s realizing that there’s more to consider about a love life than just whoever says “yes” first.

If you’re having trouble relating to Madarame, imagine that it’s about being unemployed (which Madarame is!) rather than about romance. In a situation where someone is unemployed for ages, there’s an increasing desperation for finding a new job, to the point that eventually anything will do. Then, one day a bunch of job offers appear and they’re all actually good jobs. Instead of it being about getting paid, there are now a bunch of new variables to consider. Which job pays the best? Which job seems the most enjoyble? Which one is best for long-term planning? Which one is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? If not unemployment, then college also works. Which is the best school? Which is the most affordable or convenient? Which has the subject you want to study the most? There’s a lot more to think about, and of course it’s literally impossible to choose all of them.

All of this puts the typical harem or pseudo-harem anime complaints into a different light. You might hear people say, “Why is the harem lead such a wuss? If I were him, I’d have a go with everyone.” Although many harem leads are generic and neutral characters and that lends itself to that ambiguity, I think generally harem series deep down operate under a moralistic frame which some see as over-valuing virginity or passivity, but which I find to be about not being able to fully escape a sense of empathy (this is why fans tend to have a “favorite pairing”). In order to maintain the fantasy in harem series this aspect typically isn’t terribly prominent, but with the greater realism of Genshiken it comes more to the forefront.

The rest of the chapter reinforces this feeling as well. When the guys are huddled in Madarame’s apartment reading doujinshi, Kugayama brings up the idea that even most otaku who are all into the 2-D girls and such aren’t actually against being with real women, which references an older conversation back in the earliest days of Genshiken when Saki asked about this same topic. Being between all otaku men who are aware of this, however, the conversation becomes more about that otaku image in flux. The battle lines drawn a few chapters ago between virgins and non-virgins comes up again here, as Tanaka with his steady relationship and Madarame with his new circumstances seem to flutter beyond the horizon where otaku are not supposed to reach and yet clearly have. Genshiken has become about how the concept of otaku is in flux, but we rarely get to see it from the older generation’s perspective, so I appreciate this.

Although the chapter is mainly about Madarame, it’s also a Yoshitake chapter in that she’s very prominent in the latter half of the chapter. Yoshitake’s nerdish vibrance is on full display here, whether that’s obscure history references, her now-familiar knowing glances at Yajima, or the fact that at the end of the day she’s still that girl who ignored the opposite sex in favor of debating history from a fujoshi perspective with her friends in high school. Her reaction towards Madarame’s decision and assuming he really wants a harem is maybe the highlight of the chapter as her head tilts all the way back in shock. This chapter also made me realize how differently Kio uses Yoshitake’s glasses compared to, say, Madarame, as their variable transparency helps to give Yoshitake that sense of energy and slyness.

I sometimes see people complain that Genshiken spends too much time on Hato and not enough on Yoshitake and Yajima. While I think it’s a valid criticism for the most part, I find that one of the reasons this is an issue is because even though the other two don’t get as much focus they’re still portrayed extremely well in their moments and interactions. For example, one of the most significant parts of Yoshitake’s advice is strongly hinted at in this chapter, which is that she’s watching out for her friends in suggesting Keiko as the right choice for Madarame, as she doesn’t want to hurt Yajima. Moments like these make you want to learn more about them, because if they were boring or uninteresting no one would care. Nobody ever asks about Kuchiki’s backstory, after all.

As for Yoshitake’s recommendation, I know there have always been fans of Madarame and Keiko, even going back to the days when the original Genshiken series hadn’t even finished and there was no real inkling towards this pairing. I gave my thoughts on this pairing previously, but Yoshitake’s logic that Keiko is the most like Saki in that she’s able to talk candidly is pretty interesting, especially because from what little we’ve seen of Keiko’s love life (in that she has one at all), her communication with her boyfriend at the time was pretty poor in comparison to how she talks with “Watanabe.” Madarame’s mental mix-up of Keiko and Saki aso makes me think that it may not only be a matter of personality but that she also resembles Saki in the way Keiko carries herself. If that’s the case, I wonder if this is simply down to “similarity” or if Keiko is supposed to be someone who’s actually emulating Saki. Kio’s mention of his other ongoing series in the side bar then makes me wonder if indeed Keiko x Mada is the Real Spotted Flowers.

As for Hato, he strikes an impressive figure at the end of the chapter as he works to shovel the snow off of his family home’s rooftop. There’s something about him exuding such a “masculine” aura that feels unfamiliar due to the fact that most of the time the manga shows him as crossdressing. Hato’s interactions with his brother and Kaminaga will be the focus of the next chapter. We see that Kaminaga’s changed her hairstyle, and I wonder if it has anything to do with finding out that Hato basically has a wig matching hers.

In all honesty though, what I really want to see is the other visit home mentioned this chapter, which is that Sue has accompanied Ogiue back to (I assume) her hometown in Yamagata. Not only is there something potentially wonderful about Sue interacting with Ogiue’s family, but we’ve never actually seen Ogiue’s relatives at all. The best we’ve gotten is that Ogiue once mentioned having a little brother, but it was part of a hasty explanation after being outed as a fujoshi, so we don’t even know if this little brother actually exists.

I hope we find out.

Name: Komura, Mai (小村舞)
Alias: N/A
Relationship Status: Single
Origin: Fujoshissu!

Information:
Komura Mai is a member of Ryouhoku High School’s manga club, which she decided to join after attending the school festival while still in junior high. As the main catalyst behind her decision to join the club was the manga artwork of member/president Satou Megumi, Mai holds her in high regard. Cheerful yet restrained, Mai is also friends with Sawada Yumi, whom she brought to the manga club as well.

Fujoshi Level:
Mai’s immediate fondness of Megumi’s work indicates that she is fairly deep. In addition, she is able to act on the same wavelength as the existing members of the manga club, like with the pairing of male members Yonekawa Akito and Nakamura Shingo and their friendship built on contrasting personalities.

Akagi recently made its official English-language debut on Crunchyroll. In light of this, I’ve begun to think about the character of Akagi Shigeru and his peculiar sense of ethics.

For the most part everything about Akagi revolves around the “gamble,” experiencing that life or death scenario where not even your wits may be enough to save you. He cares little for the law, for love, or even money, and in his pursuit of death he’ll even run out in the middle of the night and beat thugs senseless without any regard for concepts like “justice.” What’s strange about Akagi (aside from the obvious) is on a few occasions he will actually come to the aid of some poor individual who’s usually stuck in some terrible gamble where they’re losing money to unscrupulous vultures. This seeming sense of compassion appears somewhat inconsistent with Akagi’s amorality, but I think there is a definite logic to the character.

In order to understand why Akagi will help others, I think it’s important to also understand why Akagi will go to great lengths to break someone’s spirit. When Akagi sees someone getting taken to the cleaners, he sees not only the man being grifted but the grifters themselves, and in those manipulators he sees people who think they’re guaranteed to win no matter what. The idea of a zero-risk wager goes completely against Akagi’s ideal for what gambling should be. In his eyes, something is only a gamble when everyone has to put their lives on the line either figuratively or literally. It’s why he’s so disgusted with Fake Akagi, who uses number-crunching and probability to take the safest route and minimize loss.

This is what drives his major matches throughout the series, as Akagi finishes his opponents when they’ve given up the gamble and are going for guaranteed scenarios. Against the blind man Ichikawa, Akagi sees how he is willing to swap tiles out to create a safety net, and so severs those ropes through mind-boggling moves. Urabe tries to find a point at which he could simply run away almost risk-free, so Akagi moves to topple him by making Urabe doubt his own discards. Washizu is blessed by the gods with both luck and wealth, and Akagi takes it upon himself to instill fear in him.

When I analyzed the other major Fukumoto hero Itou Kaiji, I said that Akagi would probably be a little jealous of Kaiji because Kaiji may be closer to the gambling ideal than Akagi can ever be. In that situation, you cannot even rely on your own strengths, and Akagi, with that pesky thing called talent, requires more effort to walk the tightrope between life and death. Getting back to the downtrodden sad sacks of the world, Akagi doesn’t need to teach them what it’s like to fear or suffer. Life has already given that lesson better than Akagi ever could. So instead Akagi tries to teach them what it’s like to stare death in the face, because being a gambler isn’t about guaranteed failure either, but the willingness to move ahead, even if it’s one small step.