So I guess the experiment was a success... im getting views just from copying and pasting reviews of popular anime... i guess i should continue
Monday, November 18, 2013
One Piece
Considered by some to be the heir to the throne of Dragon Ball in terms of Japanese market penetration, One Piece is certainly a phenomenon. The manga's print run recently outpaced Dragon Ball and the series, at more than 130 episodes, is still going strong. It's easy to see why; One Piece follows a very simple and very successful shonen action formula. It worked in the past for Rurouni Kenshin and Dragon Ball and it's working wonderfully for One Piece. The premise is pretty basic. Luffy D. Monkey, an irrepressible youth, ate the Devil's Fruit, which gave his body extra-strength elasticity. He's searching for the One Piece, a legendary treasure that will make him the King of all Pirates and finally allow him to prove himself to his childhood idol, a selfless pirate by the name of Shanks. Along the way, he collects an army of somewhat freakish rogues, including a tough swordfighter named Zoro who fights with a sword in his mouth, and Nami, a spunky thief. Together they have wacky adventures, beat up the bad guys, and collect treasure. It all sounds pretty harmless, right?
Soul Eater
Pull yourself away from the Shippuden filler arcs if you can bear it, the fighting spirit of Naruto is alive and well somewhere else…as reimagined by Tim Burton and reanimated through the slick, round and colorful stylings of BONES' best. Well, no, Tim Burton was not consulted on the creation of Soul Eater, but after an opening that calls up imagery of a Hot Topic erupting in colonial Williamsburg, it certainly appears that way.
Soul Eater is old-school shonen, at its simplest and brashest level. Spunky and capricious youngsters, their slightly loopy but powerful mentors, and a staggering number of goals to surmount before facing a cackling baddy with dubious ties to the war-weary past generations of fighters. Along the way, our heroes must confront their adolescent feelings and resist temptation to cross over to the dark side for power. In the end, the day will be won, episode by episode, through the power of their bonds of friendship. If any of these refrains repulses the reader, they should run far far away from this gothic adventure, for it is oozing with all of them. Everyone else should definitely stay because this title's use of classic formula has a delicious sharp edge on it that slices in and hooks deep from the start.
Set in the fictional “Death City,” Nevada, Soul Eater's universe is a fully realized fantasy with architecture that skews and curves high overhead beneath a grinning moon with bleeding gums. Perspective warps grandiosely around bright, appealing locations in ways very similar to Ouran High School Host Club, although rather than bending the camera around purple-hued mansions, Soul Eater features dens of torture and expansive graveyards …no less pleasantly purple. Leaping around this stunning world are smoothly animated, immensely expressive characters with strong tastes in hip-hop fashions all, whether that take the form of chain jewelry or windbreakers and sweatbands. (Even zombies can wear jersey shorts sometimes!) All told, it's a morbid milieu, but it's unlike anything previously seen in how shamelessly abstract every element is, while never being tres gauche. It's an already eyepopping backdrop for some excellently choreographed action scenes. The concept of talking, metamorphosing weapons opens up a lot of opportunity for mayhem, and the only complaint to be had about each soul hunt is that they're over too soon. Each one is a creative, eclectic mix of wild designs and furious beat-em-ups.
The soundtrack is a blend of orchestrated compositions, hard rock ballads, hip-hop remixes, and combinations of all three elements riding nicely under each bold, high-octane scene. (It's no exaggeration to say each new sequence in Soul Eater is boisterous. Not a gentle moment to be found…yet.) The Japanese cast is a rambunctious lot, and are spot-on in performance. Particularly fun to listen to are Rikiya Koyama's drawling Lord Death and Yumiko Kobayashi's Black Star. Recall her Excel or Poemy and turn the spastic down…just a little. The dub puts in a solid effort as well, although it is admittedly far more normal-sounding or at least less caffeinated than the Japanese version. Laura Bailey makes for a very likable Maka despite the character's priggish tendencies, and relative newcomer Micah Solusod does a fine job keeping Soul cool and disenchanted in contrast. The only real concern may be Brittney Karbowski's Black Star, simply because she has trouble sounding like a boy as muscleheaded as Black Star…it's easy to tell that this is a woman, and the character just sounds more feminine than he used to. These are minor gripes, however, and preferences will split where they always do on both of these well-done tracks.
Added to the visual and aural panache is the series' slight self-awareness. It's hard to say if it's truly mocking itself or just having too much fun in general, but the result is offbeat and hysterical. Between making its perfectionist valedictorian a Monk-esque tyke who collapses in a heap during battle mortified that his pictureframe at home is slightly off center to the introduction of a “villain,” Dr. Franken Stein, who slides in ominously on a rolling chair only to hit the doorsill, collapse painfully and grunt “I'm going to try that again.” (He does. Guess how that turns out.) In terms of narrative, there may be nothing profoundly different about Soul Eater from every other shonen out there but that doesn't seem to matter. It's the always incisive wit of the moment that has the viewer's full attention. The arrogant loudmouthed ninja character, Black Star, is rightfully given his comeuppance here. Ninjas aren't supposed to be noisy and this leaves him falling flat on his face with gunfire all around him. The ultimate weapon, flamboyant legend Excalibur, is discovered by the bunch within these first thirteen episodes but never wielded…for reasons that will draw a lot of blank stares and uncomfortable guffaws. These clever twists on old ideas range from tongue-in-cheek to just plain sick satire, but they are welcome all the same. This is rich, roasted gallows humor for the school-age set.
Bleach
If Naruto is Dragon Ball Z with ninjas, does that mean Bleach is Naruto with dead people? The colorful characters, numerous fights and high episode count make such comparisons tempting, and fans of one are often fans of the other. With the acclaimed Studio Pierrot handling animation duties, a storyline that dishes out cliffhanger after cliffhanger, and a rapidly growing fanbase, Bleach is clearly the Next Big Anime License. It doesn't aspire to be high art, but it doesn't need to—this is high entertainment, swords out and spirit energy blazing, ready to bring a modern sensibility to the classic shounen themes of friendship, challenge, and victory.
The story starts out like most others of its kind: take a boy in his mid-teens, bestow unique abilities upon him (a cool sword helps, too), and send him out to fight some nasty monsters. For the first several episodes Bleach goes through this methodical hack-and-slash, with sprinklings of comedy for good measure. Things start to pick up when Ichigo meets fellow classmates with Hollow-killing capabilities, adding some firepower and variety to their battles. Generic and boring so far? Good. That's when the real challenge kicks in, and boy does it kick: Soul Society infiltrates the human world, stirs things up, and suddenly Ichigo's on a mission to save Rukia. If you want to know where the series gets really good, it's right here. Ichigo isn't fighting souped-up spirits a few blocks away from his house anymore; now he's in the underworld with only a few friends as allies, facing trained warriors who could damn well kill him. With all of Soul Society as a battleground and no limitations on fighting style or attacks, it takes the familiar tournament formula to the height of creativity. This isn't just training and fighting anymore. This is adventure.
But wait, isn't there plenty of fight-centric adventure anime already? Yes, but Bleach sets itself apart with a cast of characters that couldn't exist anywhere else. Imagine the usual stereotypes, but skew them with odd traits, and give their personalities an extra edge of attitude: that's what makes these characters special. Ichigo isn't just an excitable, sword-swinging hero—he's a hero with a smart mouth and a chip on his shoulder. Rukia's equally strong personality is the perfect complement to that; together the two of them exchange some of the snappiest dialogue in the show. Ichigo's allies are just as interesting: pretty boy Ishida is cool in every way, from his attacks to his demeanor; girly-girl Orihime discovers her power through fashion accessories; strong and silent Chad proves that the only thing bigger than his frame is his compassion. Call them two-dimensional if you must, but these are some very unique dimensions. And that's not even bringing up all the entertaining side characters and opponents, like stuffed-toy sidekick K-ON!, eccentric shopkeeper Urahara, the thirteen battle squads of Soul Society (learning them all is easier than you think), and that shining example of modern-day parenting, Ichigo's father.
Studio Pierrot makes this show visually pleasing with a bold, mainstream style that most eyes will appreciate. Like the story itself, the animation doesn't pick up until the later episodes, where the budget increase becomes apparent: the second opening sequence is a flurry of high frame rate showboating, and the fight scenes become increasingly elaborate and dynamic. Through it all, the storytelling is always clear—if someone swings a sword, you know exactly who swung it and where it's headed. There are still plenty of shounen clichés like speedlines, special effects and time-dilated multi-episode fights, but the look of the show is one that isn't easily reproduced. Chalk that up to manga-ka Kubotite, whose artistic style still shines through despite being watered down for the sake of animation. Who can forget the funny logos on Ichigo's t-shirts, Rukia's single bang hanging over her face, Ishida's rectangular glasses, Orihime's hair clips, Chad's scraggly features, Urahara's green-and-white striped hat, Renji's visor that looks like a sleep mask... well, this could go on for a while. Although the staff does try to match some of the manga's style in the angularity of the artwork, their true strength is capturing the sheer energy of the series through animation technique.
Naruto
Box set 13 includes episodes 164-177, which places its content squarely in the midst of the first series' interminable run of filler stories. The stories here are not necessarily all bad – and, in fact, a couple of them are actually entertaining – but there's only so long that a long-running shonen action series can piddle around without some sense of ongoing plot (and without advancing Naruto's training or the storyline concerning Sousuke) without the audience getting fidgety, and Naruto is reaching, if not already past, that limit here. Filling in some important gaps in Anko's established but little-explored past association with Orochimaru is not enough.
Of the three multi-episode mini-arcs partly or completely included here, the Cursed Warrior arc is the weakest. Although it does include one nice plot twist and a couple of decent battles, its trite execution and blatant, oversimplified moralizing weigh it down, while the ghost theme and some of the ridiculous circumstances surrounding it turn the arc into little more than a ninja version of Scooby-Doo. (You can almost imagine the head villain saying at the end, “and I would have gotten away with it if not for those meddling kids!”) The story also has Naruto saving a girl and convincing her that life is worth living in the process, which is not an occurrence unique even to this box set and all too common in the franchise's filler episodes and movies; change “girl” to “boy” and the occurrence is even more frequent. Sure, the setting and exact circumstances are different in each case, but the franchise has beat that particular concept into the ground.
The five-episode Land of the Sea arc is a bit better, although it, too, suffers from tired story mechanics. The girl to be saved in this arc is a more distinctive, interesting, and personally capable character than the one in the Cursed Warrior arc, and the play-out of events is more credible; mixing a local legend in with history involving the Hidden Leaf Village helps. The bigger difference-maker here, though, is the fishnet-clad Anko. Her connection to Orochimaru was never adequately explored when it first came up a hundred episodes earlier, and it is integrated into the regular action rather than the series' more typical process of breaking out an entire episode or two just to exposit about it.
The Treasure Hunt arc, by comparison, is ultimately just an exercise for character interactions and power use, as it allows the series to further show off Naruto's antagonistic relationship with Kiba and Hinata's ongoing crush on Naruto (to which Naruto naturally continues to be clueless). The trio of one-episode stories scattered in between the longer arcs are primarily just excuses for silliness, although such silliness can, at time, be quite amusing.
The artistry through this stretch suffers from occasional minor quality breakdowns, but that has, unfortunately, been par for the course for the series. New character designs rarely generate much interest or excitement, with the bad-guy ninja fading into a handful of generic appearance stand-bys by this point; the one arguable exception to this is Isaribi, the heavily-bandaged girl, especially when she reveals her hybrid form. The Jutsu use through this run likewise lacks the full visual punch it achieved in the earlier stages of the series, though this could be as much a lack of freshness as a technical deficiency. The animation is the shonen action series norm: decent enough to make the action look at least mildly interesting, unimpressive otherwise.
The musical score through this run almost entirely relies on well-established series themes, which still work best in the peak action scenes and comedy bits and otherwise just meander along. The seventh opener “Namikaze Satellite” reigns throughout these episodes, while the closer, which is always the original one rather than the adapted one used for the American TV broadcasts, changes one and a half times. The gentle, warm tenth opener “Soba ni Iru Kara” lasts only two episodes into this set before being replaced by the first version of “Parade,” whose visuals feature various cast members in (sometimes very fetching) dog costumes. That version lasts for only four episodes before changing to dreamy visuals focused entirely on Sakura, which last out the rest of the volume.
Of the three multi-episode mini-arcs partly or completely included here, the Cursed Warrior arc is the weakest. Although it does include one nice plot twist and a couple of decent battles, its trite execution and blatant, oversimplified moralizing weigh it down, while the ghost theme and some of the ridiculous circumstances surrounding it turn the arc into little more than a ninja version of Scooby-Doo. (You can almost imagine the head villain saying at the end, “and I would have gotten away with it if not for those meddling kids!”) The story also has Naruto saving a girl and convincing her that life is worth living in the process, which is not an occurrence unique even to this box set and all too common in the franchise's filler episodes and movies; change “girl” to “boy” and the occurrence is even more frequent. Sure, the setting and exact circumstances are different in each case, but the franchise has beat that particular concept into the ground.
The five-episode Land of the Sea arc is a bit better, although it, too, suffers from tired story mechanics. The girl to be saved in this arc is a more distinctive, interesting, and personally capable character than the one in the Cursed Warrior arc, and the play-out of events is more credible; mixing a local legend in with history involving the Hidden Leaf Village helps. The bigger difference-maker here, though, is the fishnet-clad Anko. Her connection to Orochimaru was never adequately explored when it first came up a hundred episodes earlier, and it is integrated into the regular action rather than the series' more typical process of breaking out an entire episode or two just to exposit about it.
The Treasure Hunt arc, by comparison, is ultimately just an exercise for character interactions and power use, as it allows the series to further show off Naruto's antagonistic relationship with Kiba and Hinata's ongoing crush on Naruto (to which Naruto naturally continues to be clueless). The trio of one-episode stories scattered in between the longer arcs are primarily just excuses for silliness, although such silliness can, at time, be quite amusing.
The artistry through this stretch suffers from occasional minor quality breakdowns, but that has, unfortunately, been par for the course for the series. New character designs rarely generate much interest or excitement, with the bad-guy ninja fading into a handful of generic appearance stand-bys by this point; the one arguable exception to this is Isaribi, the heavily-bandaged girl, especially when she reveals her hybrid form. The Jutsu use through this run likewise lacks the full visual punch it achieved in the earlier stages of the series, though this could be as much a lack of freshness as a technical deficiency. The animation is the shonen action series norm: decent enough to make the action look at least mildly interesting, unimpressive otherwise.
The musical score through this run almost entirely relies on well-established series themes, which still work best in the peak action scenes and comedy bits and otherwise just meander along. The seventh opener “Namikaze Satellite” reigns throughout these episodes, while the closer, which is always the original one rather than the adapted one used for the American TV broadcasts, changes one and a half times. The gentle, warm tenth opener “Soba ni Iru Kara” lasts only two episodes into this set before being replaced by the first version of “Parade,” whose visuals feature various cast members in (sometimes very fetching) dog costumes. That version lasts for only four episodes before changing to dreamy visuals focused entirely on Sakura, which last out the rest of the volume.
Fairy Tail
The sixth season set of Fairy Tail is another textbook example of shonen action-adventure: fight off the low-level villains, take on the big boss, reveal the secret power that will guarantee your victory, and save the world from destruction. The only things that really change are the characters and situations, so the challenge is to shake up the formula in enough ways to keep it from going stale. Unexpected twists and hidden pockets of back-story manage to do the job here—but the final results, where the forces of good triumph over evil, will surprise no one.
The Oración Seis arc, which carries over from the previous batch of episodes, is a prime example of sudden plot twists lurking in wait. Getting to that point, however, requires sitting through some typical battle-grinding episodes: Natsu screams his enemy into submission, guild ally Jura gets into a magic-on-magic slugfest, and weapons master Erza picks apart her opponent's weaknesses. Only after that does the storyline take some sharp turns. The big bad boss gives way to a bigger, badder boss, the final step to victory requires a near-telepathic level of trust and teamwork, and the mysterious connection between Cait Shelter and Nirvana runs far deeper than imagined. Even after evil is vanquished, the surprises don't stop there: a villain-turned-hero gets a shocking "reward," and the final revelation about the Cait Shelter guild is one of the most powerful emotional gut-punches the series has ever delivered.
After a tale of that magnitude, it's only right to wind things down with some merry-making—and so comes the customary episode where everyone simply hangs out for fun at guild headquarters. But the story soon revs up again for the next arc, the less ambitious but still heavily plotted confrontation with "dragon lady" Daphne. Once again, the standard fighting formula takes some unexpected detours, with head-spinning twists (is ice wizard Gray a friend or foe?), and flashbacks to Natsu's childhood that fill out important plot details. The final, rage-driven battle with Daphne is also especially inspiring—even though it ends too abruptly.
Aside from all the hidden wrinkles in the plot, Fairy Tail also benefits from well-scripted battles: they're tactically complex, requiring combatants to figure out how to counter a certain style of magic with their own. At the same time, humor also comes into play, with some folks spouting goofy puns and others summoning comic-relief characters for support. Yet in the end, the grand finale is always the same dogpile of genre clichés: Natsu wins the day by overpowering everyone with sheer will, the strength of friendship defeats selfishness and greed, and justice is served with the villains being the agents of their own destruction. Different paths, but the same finish line every time.
Despite the grand scale of these battles and the characters' myriad powers, the animation fails to do justice to the Fairy Tail universe. Sure, the character designs look great—outlandish clothing schemes among both heroes and villains suit their personalities well—but any attempt to put these bodies in motion results in cheap technical shortcuts. Characters float across the screen with heavy speedlines in the background; cheesy CGI effects serve as magical blasts; some of the most dramatic moments are nothing more than still frames; and certain battle scenes conveniently take place in mid-air because that solves the problem of having to draw the character in contact with the ground. Truly great visuals, like Natsu popping off a series of acrobatic moves or Erza switching into multiple suits of armor, appear maybe once every several episodes. So even with all the elaborately designed backgrounds and intense battle poses (some of which are referenced from the manga), the animation fails to do the job of bringing this vision to life.
The background music throughout these episodes is also a mixed bag: it only works well during poignant or introspective moments, where the characters' emotions are echoed by a full-orchestra sound. Elsewhere, the majority of the storyline still involves magical combat, and that means cueing up all the banal, sound-alike rock instrumentals that the series has been using since the beginning. The soundtrack doesn't add much excitement to the fight scenes; instead, the characters' attitudes provide that energy. An uptempo, percussive opening song sets the right mood for each episode, but the crooning R&B ending is somewhat out of character for a series that's usually more lively.
The Oración Seis arc, which carries over from the previous batch of episodes, is a prime example of sudden plot twists lurking in wait. Getting to that point, however, requires sitting through some typical battle-grinding episodes: Natsu screams his enemy into submission, guild ally Jura gets into a magic-on-magic slugfest, and weapons master Erza picks apart her opponent's weaknesses. Only after that does the storyline take some sharp turns. The big bad boss gives way to a bigger, badder boss, the final step to victory requires a near-telepathic level of trust and teamwork, and the mysterious connection between Cait Shelter and Nirvana runs far deeper than imagined. Even after evil is vanquished, the surprises don't stop there: a villain-turned-hero gets a shocking "reward," and the final revelation about the Cait Shelter guild is one of the most powerful emotional gut-punches the series has ever delivered.
After a tale of that magnitude, it's only right to wind things down with some merry-making—and so comes the customary episode where everyone simply hangs out for fun at guild headquarters. But the story soon revs up again for the next arc, the less ambitious but still heavily plotted confrontation with "dragon lady" Daphne. Once again, the standard fighting formula takes some unexpected detours, with head-spinning twists (is ice wizard Gray a friend or foe?), and flashbacks to Natsu's childhood that fill out important plot details. The final, rage-driven battle with Daphne is also especially inspiring—even though it ends too abruptly.
Aside from all the hidden wrinkles in the plot, Fairy Tail also benefits from well-scripted battles: they're tactically complex, requiring combatants to figure out how to counter a certain style of magic with their own. At the same time, humor also comes into play, with some folks spouting goofy puns and others summoning comic-relief characters for support. Yet in the end, the grand finale is always the same dogpile of genre clichés: Natsu wins the day by overpowering everyone with sheer will, the strength of friendship defeats selfishness and greed, and justice is served with the villains being the agents of their own destruction. Different paths, but the same finish line every time.
Despite the grand scale of these battles and the characters' myriad powers, the animation fails to do justice to the Fairy Tail universe. Sure, the character designs look great—outlandish clothing schemes among both heroes and villains suit their personalities well—but any attempt to put these bodies in motion results in cheap technical shortcuts. Characters float across the screen with heavy speedlines in the background; cheesy CGI effects serve as magical blasts; some of the most dramatic moments are nothing more than still frames; and certain battle scenes conveniently take place in mid-air because that solves the problem of having to draw the character in contact with the ground. Truly great visuals, like Natsu popping off a series of acrobatic moves or Erza switching into multiple suits of armor, appear maybe once every several episodes. So even with all the elaborately designed backgrounds and intense battle poses (some of which are referenced from the manga), the animation fails to do the job of bringing this vision to life.
The background music throughout these episodes is also a mixed bag: it only works well during poignant or introspective moments, where the characters' emotions are echoed by a full-orchestra sound. Elsewhere, the majority of the storyline still involves magical combat, and that means cueing up all the banal, sound-alike rock instrumentals that the series has been using since the beginning. The soundtrack doesn't add much excitement to the fight scenes; instead, the characters' attitudes provide that energy. An uptempo, percussive opening song sets the right mood for each episode, but the crooning R&B ending is somewhat out of character for a series that's usually more lively.
Attack on Titan
Whether or not this series based on Hajime Isayama's original manga deserves to be considered among the best titles of 2013 is a heavily debatable point. What is not debatable, though, is that Attack on Titan is the biggest anime hit of 2013 in fandom on both sides of the Pacific. Exactly why it is a hit is evident from the first episode, as the titans make a powerful impression from the moment of their first appearance, an impression that persists even 24 episodes later. As a result, the series delivers an intense, visceral, and graphic thrill ride, one whose impact is only muted slightly by some significant recurring problems.
One of the two most prominent of those problems is the pacing. The series has an annoying tendency to massively drag out scenes and sequences of events in a fashion reminiscent of long-running shonen series like Naruto or Bleach. By no means is this a constant problem, as when the series wants to do so it can really zing, but it starts happening with the flashback episode in the midst of the Trost arc and becomes a more common problem in the second half arc involving the Survey Corps foraying outside the walls into the abandoned outer ring. By the end of the series the story gives the definite sense that it could have easily accomplished what it was trying to do in 22-23 episodes instead of 25. (The recap episode 13.5 is not being counted here.) Based on the series' last scene, director Tetsuro Araki (of Death Note, High School of the Dead, and Guilty Crown fame) clearly was aiming to finish the animated material at a certain point, so the “stretch things out” approach was apparently chosen instead of the “insert filler” approach as the lesser of two sins, but it definitely bogs the series down.
The other major recurring problem is the tendency of the series to over-emote. Granted, this is also a common problem in hot-blooded shonen action series, but it gets magnified here because the content conveys plenty well enough the kind of feelings that viewers are supposed to read from the characters. Shots of terrified and horrified faces or characters suffering from anxiety and PTSD carry enough power that sparing use is easily enough to get the point across, and the titans pose plenty enough threat factor on their own that viewers do not constantly need to be reminded that we should be terrified of them; in fact, the inherent, awful creepiness of the titans, with those mindless, hideous grins, places them among the all-time-great anime monsters. Araki seems to not quite comprehend that it is possible to over-throttle intensity in emotional reactions to the point of annoyance, but his works have never been known for their subtlety.
One problem mentioned in my earlier review of the first quarter does get partly sorted out as the series progresses: the lack of adequate character development. Attack on Titan is still hardly a shining example of well-realized characters, but we do eventually get to see that Eren does have emotions beyond just anger and that some of the other characters – especially Armin and Jean – are respectable in their ability to advance forward and strategize despite their intense fears. Some side characters also develop into interesting and likable characters, too – at least until they get eaten or mangled by the titans, anyway. (Getting closely-attached to anyone beyond the central trio and a couple of other characters who appear later on is not a wise idea.) The one disappointment on this front is the series' handling of Mikasa. We learn that she is the last living person of Asian descent, and that coupled with some things shown in the flashback episode makes her a potentially interesting character, but that potential gets wasted; those flashback elements have yet to be revisited by the series' end and she never seems to progress beyond being fiercely loyal towards/protective of Eren. Even her bad-assery gets subsumed by the emergence of popular hotshot Levi about halfway through the series, leaving her without a clear role beyond being Eren's number-one groupie.
What the series does do well, however, it does very well indeed. Although the skinless giant titan has become the series' intimidating iconic image, the smaller titans are far more disturbing. Despite their oft-pudgy bodies and faces clearly modeled on normal people (one titan was supposedly modeled after a prominent MMA fighter), they exude a mindless menace which makes them creepier than any zombie, and the Aberrants – ones which exhibit swifter movement capabilities or abnormal behavior – can be terrifying even when one charges forward with an awkward gait. And while the series does reveal some details about the peculiar nature of the titans, it does not even begin to explain where they came from, why they exist, or why they all seem to be male, so they are still mysterious, too. Later in the series a female titan pops up who is menacing in her own right because her sleeker form demonstrates intelligence and actual fighting skill rather than just savagery. In each case the grisly mayhem that they inflict on humans also makes this one of the year's most graphic titles.
Not all of the cool factor in the series is limited to the titans, though. The 3D Maneuvering Gear used by the soldiers allows them to make movements so reminiscent of Spider-Man that the Marvel Comics character must have been at least a peripheral inspiration. This allows for some impressive examples of movement through a cityscape (or, later on, a forest) and spectacular combat action sequences, samples of which can be seen in the animation of the opener. Later battles between titans also provide an exciting punch. Also watch for some nifty tactical maneuvers, such as the “shooting out of the lift” scene alluded to in the opener, although as the series repeatedly proves, quality tactics often do not stand up well when titans are involved.
Although the plot of the series is usually straightforward, it also delivers some quality surprises. Exactly how Eren gets out of a certain-death predicament is a game-changer of a plot twist, and a few other goods ones pop up over time, too. The identity of the female titan who appears later on is more predictable for those who are paying attention to details, but not everything about her and her circumstances is, nor is the probable nature of the special titans. Who does and does not die cannot always be accurately predicted, either. And while the series seems, until its last few seconds, like it has come to a proper stopping point at its end, it pulls off one heck of a cliffhanger, and from a completely unexpected direction, in its very last scene.
The general artistry of the series is also sharp despite some flaws in its technical merits. Rendering style favors thick lines and earth tone color schemes; scenes with vibrant colors are limited, though the effort by Wit Studio (an offshoot of Production I.G) does an impressive job of making even browns stand out. The character designs go to great lengths to make each human and titan look distinct without resorting too often to common visual archetypes or abnormal hairdos, hair colors, or clothing styles. They also do quite a convincing job of aging characters from the first couple of episodes to the main time setting, too. Architectural and clothing styles mostly conform to late Reformation era Europe except for the highly-cosplayable military uniforms. Animation is typically very good, but in several places (especially in the first few episodes, where production was supposedly behind schedule) the series resorts too much to stills. Prurient fan service is nonexistent – no scene even close to it comes up, in fact – but the graphic content is very strong. This is definitely not a title for younger audiences or the easily-squeamish.
One of the two most prominent of those problems is the pacing. The series has an annoying tendency to massively drag out scenes and sequences of events in a fashion reminiscent of long-running shonen series like Naruto or Bleach. By no means is this a constant problem, as when the series wants to do so it can really zing, but it starts happening with the flashback episode in the midst of the Trost arc and becomes a more common problem in the second half arc involving the Survey Corps foraying outside the walls into the abandoned outer ring. By the end of the series the story gives the definite sense that it could have easily accomplished what it was trying to do in 22-23 episodes instead of 25. (The recap episode 13.5 is not being counted here.) Based on the series' last scene, director Tetsuro Araki (of Death Note, High School of the Dead, and Guilty Crown fame) clearly was aiming to finish the animated material at a certain point, so the “stretch things out” approach was apparently chosen instead of the “insert filler” approach as the lesser of two sins, but it definitely bogs the series down.
The other major recurring problem is the tendency of the series to over-emote. Granted, this is also a common problem in hot-blooded shonen action series, but it gets magnified here because the content conveys plenty well enough the kind of feelings that viewers are supposed to read from the characters. Shots of terrified and horrified faces or characters suffering from anxiety and PTSD carry enough power that sparing use is easily enough to get the point across, and the titans pose plenty enough threat factor on their own that viewers do not constantly need to be reminded that we should be terrified of them; in fact, the inherent, awful creepiness of the titans, with those mindless, hideous grins, places them among the all-time-great anime monsters. Araki seems to not quite comprehend that it is possible to over-throttle intensity in emotional reactions to the point of annoyance, but his works have never been known for their subtlety.
One problem mentioned in my earlier review of the first quarter does get partly sorted out as the series progresses: the lack of adequate character development. Attack on Titan is still hardly a shining example of well-realized characters, but we do eventually get to see that Eren does have emotions beyond just anger and that some of the other characters – especially Armin and Jean – are respectable in their ability to advance forward and strategize despite their intense fears. Some side characters also develop into interesting and likable characters, too – at least until they get eaten or mangled by the titans, anyway. (Getting closely-attached to anyone beyond the central trio and a couple of other characters who appear later on is not a wise idea.) The one disappointment on this front is the series' handling of Mikasa. We learn that she is the last living person of Asian descent, and that coupled with some things shown in the flashback episode makes her a potentially interesting character, but that potential gets wasted; those flashback elements have yet to be revisited by the series' end and she never seems to progress beyond being fiercely loyal towards/protective of Eren. Even her bad-assery gets subsumed by the emergence of popular hotshot Levi about halfway through the series, leaving her without a clear role beyond being Eren's number-one groupie.
What the series does do well, however, it does very well indeed. Although the skinless giant titan has become the series' intimidating iconic image, the smaller titans are far more disturbing. Despite their oft-pudgy bodies and faces clearly modeled on normal people (one titan was supposedly modeled after a prominent MMA fighter), they exude a mindless menace which makes them creepier than any zombie, and the Aberrants – ones which exhibit swifter movement capabilities or abnormal behavior – can be terrifying even when one charges forward with an awkward gait. And while the series does reveal some details about the peculiar nature of the titans, it does not even begin to explain where they came from, why they exist, or why they all seem to be male, so they are still mysterious, too. Later in the series a female titan pops up who is menacing in her own right because her sleeker form demonstrates intelligence and actual fighting skill rather than just savagery. In each case the grisly mayhem that they inflict on humans also makes this one of the year's most graphic titles.
Not all of the cool factor in the series is limited to the titans, though. The 3D Maneuvering Gear used by the soldiers allows them to make movements so reminiscent of Spider-Man that the Marvel Comics character must have been at least a peripheral inspiration. This allows for some impressive examples of movement through a cityscape (or, later on, a forest) and spectacular combat action sequences, samples of which can be seen in the animation of the opener. Later battles between titans also provide an exciting punch. Also watch for some nifty tactical maneuvers, such as the “shooting out of the lift” scene alluded to in the opener, although as the series repeatedly proves, quality tactics often do not stand up well when titans are involved.
Although the plot of the series is usually straightforward, it also delivers some quality surprises. Exactly how Eren gets out of a certain-death predicament is a game-changer of a plot twist, and a few other goods ones pop up over time, too. The identity of the female titan who appears later on is more predictable for those who are paying attention to details, but not everything about her and her circumstances is, nor is the probable nature of the special titans. Who does and does not die cannot always be accurately predicted, either. And while the series seems, until its last few seconds, like it has come to a proper stopping point at its end, it pulls off one heck of a cliffhanger, and from a completely unexpected direction, in its very last scene.
The general artistry of the series is also sharp despite some flaws in its technical merits. Rendering style favors thick lines and earth tone color schemes; scenes with vibrant colors are limited, though the effort by Wit Studio (an offshoot of Production I.G) does an impressive job of making even browns stand out. The character designs go to great lengths to make each human and titan look distinct without resorting too often to common visual archetypes or abnormal hairdos, hair colors, or clothing styles. They also do quite a convincing job of aging characters from the first couple of episodes to the main time setting, too. Architectural and clothing styles mostly conform to late Reformation era Europe except for the highly-cosplayable military uniforms. Animation is typically very good, but in several places (especially in the first few episodes, where production was supposedly behind schedule) the series resorts too much to stills. Prurient fan service is nonexistent – no scene even close to it comes up, in fact – but the graphic content is very strong. This is definitely not a title for younger audiences or the easily-squeamish.
Sword Art Online
This is not my review I got it from Anime News Network
The concept of being trapped in a virtual environment which can be harmful to one's actual health, even potentially deadly, is hardly a new one. It first appeared in anime as a focus element in 2002's .hack//SIGN, but its origins in science fiction media can be traced back through the 1999 American movie The Matrix, the 1994 Piers Anthony novel Killobyte, and even back to the 1976 Dr. Who story arc The Deadly Assassin, with various appearances in super-hero comic books, sci fi series, and the odd horror movie along the way. Whether deliberately or not, Sword Art Online samples from most of those sources in crafting its central scheme. The new twist here is that the motive seems to be a cruel sociology experiment: lock people in a game that must be played for real and see how that affects the decisions and social interactions in the game.
The concept of being trapped in a virtual environment which can be harmful to one's actual health, even potentially deadly, is hardly a new one. It first appeared in anime as a focus element in 2002's .hack//SIGN, but its origins in science fiction media can be traced back through the 1999 American movie The Matrix, the 1994 Piers Anthony novel Killobyte, and even back to the 1976 Dr. Who story arc The Deadly Assassin, with various appearances in super-hero comic books, sci fi series, and the odd horror movie along the way. Whether deliberately or not, Sword Art Online samples from most of those sources in crafting its central scheme. The new twist here is that the motive seems to be a cruel sociology experiment: lock people in a game that must be played for real and see how that affects the decisions and social interactions in the game.
Yo
Came back just to do a little experiment to see how trending anime can drive traffic... itll be a little cheap but hopefully i can get some info out of it.
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