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When adapting something like Gyo, the inevitable must be asked: Do you play it completely straight faced without a hint of irony, or do you throw a few winking nods to the audience in subtle ways? Apparently Ufotable’s approach was to imitate the most clichéd of disaster flicks and show the whole thing with hardly any intentional comedy, opting for the former method. And let it be said right here that so much went wrong… but I can’t entirely blame the studio for crapping out what they did.

For those unaware of Junji Ito’s short manga, Gyo details the invasion of dead fish on mechanical legs as they overrun land and begin inflicting all kinds of delicious body horror on the unsuspecting public. The story was as goofy as it was creepy, never allowing itself much time to take itself seriously. After all, there are only so many sea creatures you can stick on four spindly metal legs before a degree of credulity on the audience’s part is lost. On one hand, the designs of the creatures and the plot itself was as unsettling as the best of Ito’s other work, but on the other it bears the unintentional comedy that also plagued the likes of Uzumaki; if Ito ever learns to draw a surprised expression, a great gift will have been lost. It certainly doesn’t help that the second half was as unnecessarily convoluted as could be, not really building to anything good.

At least the manga didn't have anything like this.

So naturally, if somebody wants to adapt a horror manga, Gyo probably isn’t the best choice unless the adaptation in question is a horror/comedy. Right away Ufotable shoots itself in the foot, giving itself a nasty gangrenous infection in the process, by not taking advantage of the overall tone of the story. But if it were just an issue with tone, this adaptation could still be considered good. After all, the source material didn’t seem to be able to settle on a consistent tone, and that was pretty damn enjoyable.

For the first half, you could consider it nothing but a campy disaster flick and likely wouldn’t be too far from the truth. The fish scuttle along on their legs, giant sharks eat multiple people, and there’s even a scene with tentacles for the clichéd fetishist in each of us. While there’s some unnecessarily shoehorned in drama and several liberties taken with the source material (Main character’s a girl on vacation with her friends, doctor has a much less prominent role, there’s a videographer seemingly out of nowhere), these scenes are interesting in their own bizarre, unsubtle way. But of course we have to remember that there’s a second half to accompany the first, and this is where things start to go from enjoyably bad to simply mediocre.

The plot follows that of the manga without deviating too much, but there’s too much crammed in with too little context. For instance, the circus scene felt awkward enough in the manga, but at least it was given more than three minutes of a man speaking in intermittent broken English. That’s all we get in the OVA, and then it’s promptly forgotten about never to be brought up again, as is everything else that precedes it. Something ran out, and I’m not sure it was just the budget.

Most of which I'm sure was allocated to this scene.

Unfortunately, there’s not much to get worked up about in general. The OVA does what it does and quietly passes from memory, not leaving much of an impact one way or the other. There’s not much more to say that hasn’t been said already elsewhere; the character archetypes are extremely broadly drawn and seen in virtually any disaster film ever, the added drama is unwelcome, the animation veers between being kind of good and being utter shit, and there’s just little to recommend in general. It’s a boring hour-long distraction that I can’t in good faith even recommend as a spectacle. There’s so very little to draw from the source material that works well on screen that Ufotable can’t be entirely blamed for the result, but this will likely go down as one of the worse choices that the studio’s made.

To pithify it into something short and sweet, the Gyo OVA offers little that the manga hasn’t already done better. It bummed me out more than anything, actually, so I think I’m going to eat some ice cream and forget it even existed.

The past few episodes have been quite a metamorphosis for Yuuki, mostly for the better as far as entertainment value is concerned. He’s transformed from a sniveling, spineless, dependent momma’s boy into a slightly less spineless teenage boy who happens to have issues to resolve regarding his mother’s death. Yuno’s definitely rubbed off on him, as have Seventh and Ninth in less obvious ways. There are a number of changes that went underway as his situation worsened and his sanity slowly corroded, mostly as his former life was stabbed and otherwise snatched from him before his eyes.

For most of the series, I can honestly say that I did not root for Yukiteru. He was a standard milquetoast character, not having much influence in the story or on those around him. I’ve written before about how I tend to project myself in characters taking the role of a passive observer, but something about Yuuki kept that from happening at all. Maybe it was his selfish, yet helpless behavior. Or maybe it was the way he reminded me of Shinji. I can’t pinpoint what it was, but I was vainly hoping for Yuuki to die a quick, ignoble death and have Yuno take center stage, even if the effectiveness of her diary would’ve been severely compromised.

As the series wore on and Yuno’s insanity grew with each episode though, there was definitely a change in our formerly dull as shit protagonist. All of a sudden, he was no longer relying on others to help him out. Even though his eventual entourage of friends has been kept around longer than it should’ve been, he had definitely managed to become more assertive with each consecutive victory. Not only that, but he began to turn down Yuno’s advances with growing frequency despite her unceasing attempts to get him to herself. It’s safe to say that by the time Seventh entered the picture, he had already begun the journey to filling the shoes that had been set before him. Yet, there was still some hesitation. He still cared for himself more than others, not having the drive to do anything but keep himself alive.

And then everything changed after his parents died in a rather ham-handed and likely unintentional attempt to replicate Shakespearean tragedy. All of a sudden, his psyche was shattered and his resolve to abstain from violence crushed. And now that he has a reason to live and make it through the Survival Game… well, he’s definitely grown a pair. While his personality isn’t any more complex (Less “I mustn’t run away!” and more “Grr! Yuuki smash/stab/shoot/whatever!”), the paradigm shift is certainly refreshing.

I felt that what held the series back before was Yuuki’s insistence on finding peaceful resolutions to save his own skin. It kept Yuno from fully spreading her psychotic wings, and worst of all kept the plot from going balls to the wall insane. That restriction was lifted in this episode, Yuuki perfectly following Yuno’s plan of betraying Eighth and eliminating her power. Sure, it wasn’t all that realistic (It’s doubtful that he could’ve driven like a stunt driver), but it was great seeing him actually actively trying to kill others. While it temporarily sacrificed any sort of development for this purpose, it was still nice to see.

Hell, even after opening himself up to Yuno, he proved himself independent of her. When she was revealed to not be the real Yuno in what I hope is a plot twist that actually goes somewhere, it didn’t take long for him to let go of her hand and leave her to her fate.  What’s more, the way that he betrayed Eighth’s squad with so little remorse was actually kind of chilling, something that I certainly didn’t expect from him.

If it were another show, I’d be calling the sudden change from an increasingly assertive, yet still meek teenager into a cold-blooded killer inconsistent and sloppy. But Mirai Nikki is nothing if not inconsistent, if entertaining throughout, so I not only give it a pass, I welcome the chance to revel in the bloodshed and series of bonds/betrayals with other characters. Yuuki isn’t the most interesting character by a long shot (Yuno and Ninth still take the cake as far as that’s concerned), but the sudden change that he’s undergone is nothing if not interesting. He’s a far cry from the continuously useless Shu from Guilty Crown, actually managing to come across as an interesting character instead of just a whiny bitch in a trench coat. And that’s something that we can all cheer for.

In Natsume Yuujinchou, there is no faction more underrepresented than the exorcists, specifically the Matoba clan. While they’ve become more important in the plot as the series has continued and built on itself, they’re still mysterious people who we don’t know much about. Why do they do what they do? How do they justify the purification and bondage of youkai? Are their purposes really so selfish that they’ll eliminate anybody in their way? Through the power of flashbacks, episode seven of the fourth series attempts to answer these questions, giving us a fair glimpse behind the mysterious masks that shield the exorcists.

Natsume Yuujinchou is a series that’s always been firmly rooted in Shinto mythology, much to nobody’s surprise. Youkai run amok and occasionally wreak havoc on the human world, only kept at bay by sacred symbols and people with a gift for seeing and performing rituals to banish them—exorcists, if you will. With different motives (Usually either protecting people or wanting to destroy youkai), they have an oddly small part in comparison to other characters. But Nanase, an elderly member of the Matoba clan, is given her very own episode this week, one in which we see the moment in her childhood where she met a person who instilled in her certain values that she’s held well into the modern day.

The Matoba clan has always been depicted in a somewhat dubious light, the only youkai that they use being those that they’ve warped to their own devices. What they don’t use they destroy, and they’re not terribly fond of people interfering with their work. A comparison could be drawn between the Matoba clan and a criminal organization, if one’s definition of cruelty encompasses what they do. Seiji, the member being groomed into leadership, in particular is a cold individual who uses any means necessary to accomplish his goals. Many points have been made in the past contrasting Natsume’s policy of coexistence with the Matobas’ of domination of the youkai, but it’s very rare that we actually see things from their perspective.

Their incredibly adorable perspective.

The point has also been made that not every exorcist holds the same view toward youkai; Natori has been a companion to Natsume whenever he sees fit, and the difference between him and Matoba is as stark as night and day. He treats his servants with respect and sees fit to make sure they’re safe from harm. The conference in season two with all the exorcist clans helped to support this claim, very few of which have adapted the extreme methods of Matoba.

However, even if the methods aren’t exactly beneficial toward the youkai, the different mentality of Nanase offsets a fair bit of ill-will. In contrast to Seiji’s ruthless ambition to either control or eliminate any powerful youkai that crosses his path, even if other spirits must get caught in the crossfire, she sees her position in life, and that of the exorcists in general, as a counterpoint to the youkai. While they do what they do, she must stop them whenever the influence crosses over into the human world (Karma for karma). It doesn’t justify her deeds by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s nice to see that she acknowledges the legitimacy of the youkai world as something to mirror the human one, and doesn’t want to see it bowed to her will.

The point that I’ve tried to reach after several paragraphs is that I liked the fact that Natsume Yuujinchou decided to dedicate sometime to fleshing out the exorcist faction a bit more. They’re not some faceless amalgamation, contrary to their servants’ appearance, they’re a group that has wildly varying motivations for purifying and otherwise subjugating youkai to their will. While it still goes against what Natsume stands for, they’re still human. It was also interesting to see the Reiko enigma elaborated on a little bit more. Knowing that she had renown even among the exorcists gave the world a greater sense of cohesion. To me, it’s a nearly perfect series that continues to outdo itself at every opportunity, and I never stop enjoying what it has to offer. Even if that something is development of what passes for the recurring group of villains of this show.

Every day is a Mega Deth Party when you watch Symphogear!

Ever since beginning its mercifully short 13 episode run, Symphogear has become something of a running joke among those still watching in the aniblogosphere. There’s very little irony in what’s being done; it’s simply one bad design choice after another with no respite, and it becomes infinitely more entertaining than it’d be if the people helming it actually had any idea how awful a show they were making. I know of maybe one blogger that actually likes it, and even they admit that it’s a guilty pleasure.

In what I consider the objective sense, there’s very little to redeem this show. Its pacing is schizophrenic, the plot is a million times more convoluted than it needs to be, and none of the characters are likable. All of this is compounded by an overproduced soundtrack and mediocre animation, which do nothing to dissuade criticism. If it weren’t so god awful that it actually becomes funny, I would have dropped this piece of shit a long time ago. However, there’s the occasional moment of unintentional (or what I hope was intentional) brilliance, one that instantly stretches a smile over my face each episode. Here are the top four such moments thus far. Why four? Because I couldn’t even think of five that could constitute their own entries.

1. When the Villain Engrishes It Up

After last season’s Ika Musume came to a close, anime’s been surprisingly bereft of hilarious Engrish. The only anime that comes close to creating something absolutely cringe-worthy with English dialogue is Symphogear, and boy does it deliver. To put it bluntly, the villain sounds like she got drunk to work off a nasty speech impediment. Her words are slurred and often run together, sometimes not even sounding like it was supposed to be in English, or any kind of language spoken by a sane human being. It also helps the comedy factor that she usually talks in English over the phone, while being buck naked. I don’t know why, but that fact just makes the entire thing a million times more humorous.

2. Every Moment that Hibiki is in Danger

The opening shot of Symphogear, where a friend of our lead loudly mourns on her grave after a funeral, really set the tone for the rest of the series in a way that was probably not meant to be. Not only do we know that Hibiki dies at some point before the series ends, likely in episode thirteen during the climax, but it keeps trying to make it seem like she might die before then. She’s basically a dead woman walking/fighting/singing her own theme music. Speaking of which…

3. When the Characters Sing Their Own Theme Music

"I will now sing you the song of my people. While fighting you."

This is just silly. It’s not particularly offensive since the songs are actually alright to listen to, but you have to wonder how practical a fighting style is when it requires you to sing your own theme music. It happens each episode and does nothing to make me take this series more seriously.

4. Each Time the Plot Tries to Sort the Politics

Hint: It devolves into this each time

The story of Symphogear is as straightforward and easy to follow as a corn maze, with enough vestigial features to choke something that can eat a ton of corn metaphors. A corn-eating cow. Basically, there is the Noise which is, while apparently like the Mushi from Mushishi but stupid looking, summoned by one character who wants to wipe out the city and find an artifact for… some reason, and this somebody is controlled by a mysterious blonde woman who likes to talk in mangled English. Hibiki finds the artifact though and apparently takes it into her being because, as mentioned earlier, she has super Mary Sue powers. Also, the blue-haired girl reminds us each episode that she misses her old partner, regardless of how shoehorned in the statement has to be.

Meanwhile, a power struggle is at play between the American and Japanese governments, secret agents are involved, political leaders are murdered, and there’s generally more going on than the series can keep up with. Each time it tries to sort out this mess, it ends up making the situation worse, furthering my hypothesis that the writers have absolutely no idea what they’re doing. Hell, I couldn’t save the scenario at this point by doing anything short of killing everybody off and starting over from scratch.

It tries so hard to be deep and profound, yet fails on every conceivable level. Meanwhile, even the fighting is incredibly token, even though that’s what each power struggle is reduced to. There’s simply no development, something that’s legendarily lazy.

–

Once again, Symphogear is a series that manages to blur the line of incompetence, occasionally crossing over into parody territory. It’s campy beyond belief, but what makes it funny is the fact that it doesn’t seem to know. Just like Guilty Crown, I can’t help but get the feeling that it’s being played entirely straight, and that somehow makes it a million times better than it’d be if it were actually competent. There are several other things that I wanted to squeeze into this post, like the outlandish costume designs or the way that the guy always dressed in red has his pink tie in his pocket, or even the way each move is titled before never being done again, but there just wasn’t room for all of that. Symphogear proves that sometimes you don’t need to be good or Guilty Crown to be entertaining. Sometimes you just need to take yourself way too seriously and have your characters sing their own battle themes.

Episode seven of Nisemonogatari saw the conclusion of the Karen Bee arc, which ended up introducing one of my absolute favorite anime villains and indulging the audience in more of the breathtaking animation that has so characterized the series before. While Karen and her illness played a smaller role than what was expected, seeing Kaiki wax philosophical with Koyomi and Senjougahara in their final confrontation was well worth the subdued role of the arc’s namesake. To be frank, no other show could get away with continuing to end confrontations with protracted conversation and debate, and that’s saying a lot for the overall quality of Nisemonogatari that it continues to do so without frustrating.

There were too many things that I liked about the episode, it’s too difficult to pick one to really go into detail about. The way that Koyomi physically fought Karen about her brazen, hard-headed personality in the beginning was a treat, as was the continued creepy cool presence of Daishu Kaiki. Hell, even Shinobu had her moments that ended up making me laugh. While it didn’t end with each of his sisters waking him up, the episode itself played into the formula laid out by the show’s predecessor without taxing on one’s nerves.

Though really, the character that really wowed me was one that hasn’t been given quite enough screen time since the series has began. Senjougahara carried this episode, even if the other players were quite strong by themselves and more than capable of keeping things entertaining; her cold, detached and ultimately self centered views on the world and on her past provided the series with the emotional punch that it had lacked in prior episodes, despite still providing an exemplary experience.

Also, there are several good shots of crows

The final confrontation with Kaiki is the high point of the series, the venom from both sides dripping into their superficially civil words and responses. Senjougahara’s demeanor in particular was laced with enough cold hatred to chill even the most oblivious observer, Koyomi himself remaining passive for most of the ordeal, not willing to get in the way of her subdued wrath. Of course Kaiki was no slouch either. His disingenuous apologies to both Koyomi and Senjougahara had quite a potent sting, as did his resignation to inferiority to those who actually dealt in the supernatural. It gave our lovebirds a hollow victory, one that they didn’t have to win with much effort, and in the end Kaiki walked away without having his dubious occupation compromised by anything but a minor setback.

There’s a very real sense that it’s his victory, that Senjougahara learning of his total apathy and his actual powerlessness (He really is a conman in every sense of the word) hit her harder than she initially let on. After all, this was the man that she holds responsible for tearing apart her family, and he shows absolutely no sympathy nor any indication of stopping what he does. Hell, he even offers to reimburse her later on after fleecing more unsuspecting children. While Senjougahara doesn’t show any sign of objecting to this beyond telling him that the money wouldn’t help, it’s definitely an act that was intended to be hostile in Kaiki’s own underhanded way.

Back to talking about Senjougahara herself, we learned quite a lot about her personality in this episode. Despite continuing her aloof, sardonic, and aggressive demeanor, she’s a tortured individual out for some degree of closure regarding the dissolution of her family that Kaiki seems intent on making sure that she can’t reach through whatever means he can. She hides this behind terse one-liners and confessions that seem to be just as much reminders to herself as they are confirmations toward Koyomi and Kaiki that she knows the past is the past, and she has to accept how things transpired in order to move on in life. Contrary to Kaiki though, she definitely does believe what she says. And unlike him, she has somebody that she cares about to keep her emotions anchored to reality without becoming too detached.

It’s been said before elsewhere, but it must be confirmed that Senjougahara is probably the pinnacle of a realist character. She looks at things from every perspective no matter how inconvenient it is, and she never ceases to remind others, and herself, that she has weaknesses that she has to overcome. But it’s a testament to the strength of her relationship with Koyomi, and her own self-confidence, that she can tell him that she likely would’ve fallen for anybody who had taken up his position, but she’s happy that it was him. It wasn’t particularly evident in this episode, but the two play off each other well with legitimate care for each other—even if the words are disguised by faux-hostility.

When I first watched this episode, I didn’t think much of it. It entertained without a doubt, but I didn’t think I had quite the wealth of things to say about it that I did about a few of the previous episodes. But the more I looked back on it and wrote out this post, the more I realized that this episode will likely be one of the high points of anime of the year for me. It’s a fairly straightforward confrontation, but the subtleties at play are well worth writing a moderately lengthy 900+ words about, and each of the above points would make quite a post in and of themselves. In the end, whatever doubt I might have had about the quality of the series has been swept away. I do so love Nisemonogatari.

There are more than a few shows that manage to defy genre conventions and differentiate themselves from their contemporaries as a result, through means such as inserting comedy where it otherwise wouldn’t be present, or introducing deep sociopolitical messages in otherwise fluffy stories. Another, being the brilliant show that it is, manages to follow in this same vein. After a few episodes of predictably gruesome deaths (Umbrella through the throat? Yawn), episode six of Another has begun to break new ground and push the very boundaries of anime through witty scenes of whimsy and the acceptance of Kouichi and Mei’s new lives of relative nonexistence.

The complexity is such that you almost forget the horror that was so present early in the series, and the real message, which I assume was some kind of “Stamp out bullying” or “Yay misanthropy!” philosophy, is brought to the forefront. As Mei and Kouichi tango with destiny (and each other), the real questions are brought forth for the audience to contemplate. Are they the ones who aren’t considered alive? Or are their classmates, who are forced to abide by stringent rituals? We may truly never know, but one thing is for sure: Another is really here to make us think through extended metaphors, not to provide cheap scares through gratuitous deaths.

I mean it really says something for the overall brilliance of the show that it manages to subvert the horror to such a degree that I entirely forget about its existence. It’s a one of a kind horror anime, one that isn’t even remotely scary because of how unbelievably competent the story is. It’s what every other series regardless of genre should aspire to be. This is a small rant directed toward everyone who’s saying that it’s “silly” or “impossible to take seriously”. It’s just so multifaceted and cerebral with its horror that you simply can’t comprehend the ability to be scared by it. And for that, I pity each and every one of you who don’t understand; you’re truly missing out on a one of a kind experience that transcends the medium through that one urge more universal than fear: dancing.

For most people, Valentine’s Day is either the most sugary or a bitter day of the year, one that they spend with the person they love most or imagining that they’re with somebody that they love. Afterward, the tables are turned and those in the former camp are regretting spending as much as they did, while those in the latter are buying up discounted chocolates by the armful. Mirai Nikki manages to celebrate this day by airing an appropriate episode regarding those eternal fixtures of this most divisive of days: Bunny-suit-clad stalkers, parricide, and the murder of faceless goons. T’is the season!

For everybody who’s been following this series, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Yuno has long since lost her mind and is hellbent on making sure Yuuki follows suit. That fact’s been pretty firmly established since the beginning, and most of the series’ conflict has been from Yuuki’s perspective as he balances Yuno’s obsessive devotion and his reservations about losing what remains of his sanity. As he learns that his father murdered his mother in a state of hysteria, he’s pushed even closer to the edge, breaking him out of his withdrawn shell in ways that aren’t terribly flattering for him.

What makes this episode as effective as previous ones that shed light on Yuuki’s relationship with Yuno is the fact that we see both Yuno’s past and behavior, and a way that Yuuki’s slowly starts to mirror it. Growing up in an abusive household that kept her on too tight a leash, Yuno eventually snapped and murdered her parents in what I assume was a very slow process. If she were perched on the fine line between sanity and a lack thereof before that point, this easily pushed her into the latter category with no hope of return. It becomes all the more painfully apparent, even though it wasn’t exactly difficult to picture based on what we’ve seen before, that the only thing that’s kept her going is her unhealthy fixation on Yukiteru.

Keep in mind that he was just holding a knife to her throat before this happened.

As tragic as this is, the real point of the episode that I somehow extrapolated from the bunny suit escapades was that Yuuki’s descent into madness is slowly but surely reflecting Yuno’s. While his parents were far from abusive, his father being more neglectful than anything, him losing them over the course of the survival game and the constant presence of Yuno have definitely had an adverse effect on him, really showing when he almost singlehandedly dispatched a group of attackers that brought down his father. Compared to the previous displays of Yuuki’s courage (Being chided into lifting a piece of cement floor by Seventh), there’s a much greater sense of desperation with the loss of his parents.

What really drove the point home though was Yuuki sitting in front of a wall in the dark, numerous pictures of his deceased mother adorning it. He isn’t quite the same ineffectual male lead that we’ve come to know and tolerate; he’s changed, for better or for worse. It’s only a matter of time until we see if his life will go down a similar path to Yuno’s, or if he’ll continue fighting her ever-encroaching influence of craziness. Either way, I think we’re in for one hell of a ride.

Piracy, regardless of its general acceptability, is in the end one thing: The forceful changing of goods from one party to another. From the context of 17^th Century sea raids all the way to the debatable modern incarnation of taking a copyrighted file (Which remains a highly contentious issue), that’s remained fairly constant throughout much of history. It can also be said that if a pirate force is welcomed with open arms and given into with little resistance, it sacrifices some sense of original purpose and becomes something of an institution, losing its edge; while privateers perform much of the same duty, they lose some of that cultural mystique because they are working for somebody.

Mouretsu Pirates is very much about space piracy becoming a cultural fixture in a star system, and the expectations therein. It’s reached the point that those who are pirated, at least the ones who can afford to recoup their losses, see it as a rare spectacle to have whatever vessel they might be aboard be boarded and robbed blind by a group of pirates led by a teenage girl. It can be said that this different mentality when regarding piracy takes away the fangs by blurring the line between entertainment and the harsh reality. It can also be said that it makes for one hell of an episode.

After hearing about and seeing the electronic portion in action, we finally got to see the nitty-gritty of lawful piracy/apparent entertainment, from the administrative level all the way to the boarding of a cruise liner. And there was not one time while watching this that I felt bored, or that the entertainment value was in any way compromised by showing what happens when Marika obtains a letter of marquee and how she gets it. Even though it’s mostly paper work, it’s amusing seeing her go about it with the same dazed behavior that most audience members likely would in her position.

What Mouretsu Pirates does best in spite of its slow start is make itself a fun watch with enough quirks to offset the relatively dry history and mechanics of space travel—the presentation that Misa makes is particularly worth mentioning. I know that if any of my instructors took the time to make things that amusing, I’d find class more entertaining. It also brought up the point that I made in the first two paragraphs of this post, that Marika both is and isn’t a pirate, since she does her commandeering under the law.

I doubt this episode’s an indication of what Marika’s main activities will be, since it was incredibly goofy and I doubt they could pull it off for twenty episodes, but it’s still a nice introduction to the world of space piracy and its many facets. The fact that I have a bit of a weakness for training episodes might also play into it, but I found this week’s episode of Mouretsu an absolute thrill, even after last week’s conclusion of the Space Yacht Club arc. If anybody reading this is on the fence after six episodes, I’ll join the throngs of people saying that a six episode litmus test is a must.

Yeah, it was pretty much like this.

Everybody that I know, regardless of race, gender, age or sexual orientation, associates Valentine’s Day with at least one negative memory. Whether it’s a relationship that they feel remorse over ending or a habit of viewing it as a day that’s a testament to their inability to function in the field of romance, I know of absolutely nobody who looks back on Valentine’s Day without at least one bad memory. As is fitting with the stereotype of the regular anime viewer, I spent all of last Valentine’s Day alone, huddled with a blanket draped over my head, watching a show with several characters that shared my predicament. A blizzard was raging outside, and I was in absolutely no shape to attend class.

Last year’s was probably the first Valentine’s Day that I ever felt connected with an anime, where I felt myself drawn into the show and put into the position of several characters who felt as I did: Lungs ravaged by coughing, limbs unable support their weight, and their voices growing increasingly feeble. Anemia also featured prominently in the show, though thankfully I turned up negative for that. It’s with somewhat laughable irony that I associate this day of materialism and gooey love with Shiki, now one of my favorite anime/manga series of all time and easily one of the most soul crushing things in existence. So what better way to celebrate the anniversary of that living hell than to write about my experiences with the series that kept me sane and slightly depressed through it all?

It wouldn’t do much good to write about the technical aspects of Shiki in great detail—The characters have weird stylized designs, the music’s amazing, and the violence is visceral. The plot is easy to predict and occasionally runs in circles up until a certain point, meaning one could watch maybe three episodes of the first half and the last three of the second and they’d probably get a good feel for the rest of the series. But by doing so, they’d be short changing much of the slow boil that makes it a compelling and occasionally painful watch. Really, whether somebody will like it depends on their tolerance for bizarre design choices and a slow, mounting plot. If neither are particular bugbears, it’s something well worth checking out.

The thing is, even though I loved it and I’d tell you the same things then, I picked hardly any of it up the first time past some basic details (People die, some come back as vampires, globules of tears ensue en masse). Because I was either doubled over wheezing out my lungs or trying to sleep most of the time, I missed several key plot points and was too fatigued to realize it. All I remember from that day is crying at the end while suppressing the coughing that had bruised my ribs at that point, and seeing Ookawa, the resident liquor shop owner, lift up a moving truck. And yet I’d still call this one of the most intense experiences of my life, since at the very least the memory of my feelings remains strong.

Several months later after the cough subsided and after some pretty embarrassing mislabeling in my first Shiki Specials post, I decided to take the evening before Halloween and the entirety of that day to re-watch it the entire way through. And even though I picked up on much more and enjoyed it on a deeper level, it didn’t leave quite the same profound sense of emptiness that it did when I first watched it… there just wasn’t that awe that came with the delirium of sleeplessness and a lack of oxygen. Of course I’m not saying that Shiki’s best viewed when your lungs want to leap up through your throat, but I wouldn’t have felt quite the same attachment to it if the circumstances for me watching were different.

By which I mean if I didn't look like this, things wouldn't have been the same.

There’s a lot that I like about Shiki, delirious or no. The themes present (Social isolation, survival of the fittest, the fragility of social bonds) are universal, easily understood by pretty much anybody with an ability to reason out abstract thought. The characters are likable for the most part, even the ones that we aren’t exactly supposed to be rooting for. And again, the music is just fantastic, having gotten me through several tumultuous nights of sleep. Also, there is something to be said about an experience that leaves me feeling drained for a few days after I complete it; whether it’s a good thing or not is up for debate. But I’m not going to delve into any of those topics here, since I’d like to at least pretend that I’m still on the same page that I was at the beginning.

Just in case I meandered a bit too much in getting to this point, I’ll reiterate that last year’s Valentine’s Day wouldn’t have been nearly as memorable if I didn’t have something like this to keep me entertained. Yes, it failed in distracting me from my cough and even managed to make me believe that I was going to die in some of my less lucid moments, but it was an experience that I wouldn’t trade for anything—not even a set of nice lungs that doesn’t occasionally decide to make me feel like the world hates me.

To those who read this far, I wish you a happy, healthy Valentine’s Day, whether you’re alone or with the one you love. And may you not have your vitals sucked dry by the undead.

Something in anime is becoming a rarity for me these days. It’s an insignificant characteristic, one that isn’t necessarily any one series’ fault since being an adult has its own time constraints, but it’s been months since I’ve been able to sit down, watch an episode of a show all the way through, and never once glance at the clock wondering how much time I have left. The last show that was able to do that is Mawaru Penguindrum, which any long time subscribers might recall had me salivating week to week, and easily nestled snugly into my Top 10. Well, Nisemonogatari of all things managed to fill that gap this week. Am I saying that Nisemonogatari is as good as Mawaru Penguindrum? Read on to find out.

To be clear, I liked Bakemonogatari, if having Senjougahara plastered all over my header didn’t set off any alarms. It was an incredibly clever, gorgeous, and well written show, at least as far as dialogue is concerned. Saying that though, it never managed to break the glass ceiling into what I’d call a favorite or even greatness. I even stopped 12 episodes in for no reason, and pushed through the last few some months later. Others will probably debate this, but I think what Bakemonogatari was missing that Nisemonogatari has is some kind of catalyst that manages to glue it together into one cohesive story: Deishu Kaiki.

As good as Bakemono was, there wasn’t some central conflict keeping things going. Yeah, it had a theme and its own shtick with each of the arcs, but once they were resolved they didn’t make much of an appearance again. Hachikuji, my favorite character in the whole thing for a number of reasons, only appeared a scant few times after her arc concluded. It made sense, considering she had no direct importance in the other arcs of the series, but the show was a little choppy as a result, with little residual effect from the girls that Araragi dealt with. About the only connecting thread was his burgeoning relationship with Senjougahara, which was touched on just enough to make it the best part of the show. By adding in Deishu Kaiki and giving Araragi’s sister’s more importance, Nisemonogatari has added another dimension of depth between the characters that I felt was missing from the first series.

It doesn't hurt that Senjougahara really knows how to pose.

Take Senjougahara, for instance. As crass as she is, she very rarely comes across as somebody who gets flustered. She has a cool, detached feel about her that’s as enthralling as it is chilling. She quips sarcasm and insults with little hesitation, managing to run circles around her with her words. Yet, there’s a playful air about it that makes it difficult to be completely intimidated by her force of character. That aloof attitude is missing here, instead replaced by cold, yet searing hatred toward Kaiki that she admits has little reason to upset her so much. Or it would, if she didn’t feel that he was directly responsible for driving her parents apart and setting things into motion for her to be possessed by the crab spirit. This is the second time that her emotions have been laid bare before the audience, and it’s a little disconcerting hearing her legitimately warn Araragi off, and hear him respond exasperatedly in return with brunt honesty that sometimes he doubts the security of their relationship.

Beyond her memories flooding back and banishing the crab spirit as a result, we hadn’t seen Senjougahara really let her feelings be known without skirting the issue with jabs and insults toward Araragi and those around her until now. But that isn’t limited toward just Sejougahara; Kaiki implanting the Wreathfire Bee in Karen inadvertently brought Shinobu back, further bringing to light the power struggle between her and Araragi as she helps him find his wandering little sister. It’s something small that makes the world feel lusher, filling in for the sparse backgrounds and odd design choices to create a world that’s both unreal and brimming with very real, strong bonds between people rarely seen in the medium. All the characters also seem to be functioning by themselves, no longer relying on Araragi to prop them up as far as relevance goes, which has been a nice change from him being the only pillar of strength in the last series.

It’s odd that by adding one little number to the equation in the form of an overarching villain and his effects on the characters, Nisemonogatari manages to give off the feeling of being a more complex, well-directed package than its predecessor. While by no means perfect, it’s managed to tweak the Bakemonogatari formula into something that I’m digesting and picking through with little trouble, and I look forward to each and every one of these posts so I can continue to gush and explain why. Once again, very few shows have managed to pull me in to the extent that I completely lose track of time, sitting by and actively absorbing information until I realize the episode ends and the credits roll. I can count Nisemonogatari among them now, and that’s something special that shouldn’t be scoffed at.