Right, I’ll try and keep this as brief as possible.

Last night, inspired by the latest ‘foreign pirates are killing anime’ outburst from the Japanese industry, I fell into one of my usual rants on Twitter:

“The anime industry avoiding the same elephant in the room as music industry did 10 yrs ago: consumers know worthless product when they see it.

My point isn’t about ‘defending piracy’ – it’s about giving it a cultural context.”

Well, I thought what I was trying to say was fairly straightforward – that like the music biz the anime industry had devalued its own product so much that it is hard to act surprised that people don’t want to pay for it. But judging from the flood of responses I got, apparently a few things need clarifying. Lets have a look:

Wow, what show are you talking about?

I’m not talking about any specific shows, I’m talking about how anime in general is – rightly or wrongly – perceived.

Your theory makes no sense, because good shows sell just as badly or worse as bad shows.

Well, for a start, that’s not my theory at all.

My point is not ‘anime doesn’t sell because it’s low quality’, it’s ‘it is seen as acceptable to steal any anime because it’s all viewed as disposable’. My argument is that this is exactly what happened to the music industry: in a desperate attempt to exploit every revenue opportunity while also reducing costs and investment it devalued its own product to the point that consumers feel little unease with obtaining it illegally.

Nah, it’s not the industry’s fault – people pirate because they are evil and immoral.

Um, maybe. I like to be a little less nihilistic than that. Besides, there are examples of people (I’m thinking Cory Doctorow and Radiohead here) in other media making a success of asking people for money while giving away their work. Perhaps what is needed is some risk taking and imaginative thinking?

OK you clever bastard, so what did the music industry do to solve all this?

Well, the industry itself did nothing really to solve it. What it mainly did was gripe and whine and bitch and demand pointless, ineffectual legal action while still taking the same attitude to the product it was churning out. Sound familiar?

In the end it wasn’t the traditional industry that tried to fix things, but Apple and iTunes that stepped in to present a different model.

WHAT? BUT iTUNES AND APPLE ARE EVIL!!??!?!!?

Yeah, OK. I know what you’re saying – iTunes has many, many issues. Sadly this is not that debate. What is interesting about iTunes is that it showed that by finding sensible price points, breaking up albums into smaller products, supporting micro-transactions and making the whole process very quick and easy it is possible to convince some consumers (in fact, a very large number of consumers) that buying legitimately is less hassle than piracy.

But the anime industry isn’t Apple! It can’t afford to start up a version of iTunes, plus the model doesn’t fit anime at all?

Sheesh, stop taking me so literally. I’m not saying an ‘Itunes for anime’ is the answer. Not at all. To be honest I don’t have a firm answer. I’m just some mouthy Brit on teh internets, its not actually my job to provide any answers. I’d like to think there are people out there in the industry who are much cleverer than me and whose job actually should be to come up with answers, and I can just go back to drinking and babbling on in an amusing chimney sweep’s accent.

But you must have some suggestions?

Well, if we can get back to what started all this: my main suggestion is that the industry stops whining about piracy and using it to deflect blame away from how it has devalued its own product. Connected with that it could stop throwing hissy fits and pulling simulcasts or not allowing foreign distributors from putting out boxsets and blurays. That would all be a good start towards calming down and trying to find a way out of this mess. Or maybe it really is too late.

So this just sounds like your usual ranting – you’re blaming the death of the industry on moe and lolicon and some shows that YOU don’t like despite being quite popular with fans.

Okay. Please – just take a deep breath and read this whole post again. Please.

But commercialization and sponsorship has been part of anime since day one, this isn’t a new thing.

Exactly – and the same is true within music – pop music has been used to sell other products etc since the 1950s. That’s not a criticism of my argument – its further evidence for it! You’d hope that after half a century of doing exactly what I’m describing here that both industries would act less surprised that consumers view their products as low value and disposable. I mean, how stupid do they really think we are?

But what is wrong with a show being disposable? I quite like some shows that I admit are disposable.

There’s nothing wrong with a show itself being disposable! There is always going to be disposable product in every entertainment industry, plus ‘disposableness’ is in itself – like quality – a subjective term.

The issue is this though: don’t whine about something being disposable if you made it that way. If you are a studio that makes shallow, disposable product then don’t act all surprised if people might enjoy watching it once, but don’t want to pay to own a handful of episodes of it on an overpriced DVD. You can’t blame them for that. Instead you need to find alternative ways of monetizing that one, single viewing. Or to price it far more realistically. Again this is how iTunes works, by charging mere pennies for products that its customers view as largely disposable. Not perfect for the artist and industry arguably, but its still a lot better than someone just stealing it.

Or, of course, you need to make a less disposable product in the first place….but lets stop there before we start going around in circles again, shall we?

I was stupid lucky enough this Friday to make the 400+ mile round journey up north to the Leeds International Film Festival for the day. Given the length of the journey and the insane price of train tickets here in the UK that might seem a bit excessive to catch a couple of movies, but the festival’s anime weekend was being kicked off by an unmissable double bill. First off was Mamoru Oshii’s lost, experimental classic Angel’s Egg (more on that to follow), being shown in the UK for the first time in over 20 years, but the real incentive for me was to see the UK premiere of Momoru Hosoda’s latest blockbuster Summer Wars.

Hosada has already made big waves with his 2006 hit The Girl Who Leapt Through Time – the charming sci-fi comedy-drama that touched the hearts and imaginations of both critics and audiences and earned a place in my list of 10 anime films to see before you die – and as ever following up such a renowned piece of work is a tough challenge. Set in an alternate 2010, the film centers around 17 year old otaku Kenji Kosio, a socially inept maths genius, who spends most of his waking hours immersed in the virtual reality world Oz, the ultimate convergence of communication technologies that has fused social networks, online games, telephone systems and just about every other form of internet related activity into a single, all encompassing interface. Shocked one day to be invited by his unrequited crush Natsuki Shinohara to go and stay with her and her family in Nagano over the summer, Kenji nervously agrees, believing he is going to lend a helping hand with the grand celebrations for Natsuki’s grandmother’s 90th birthday. Which is why he is even more shocked when he is introduced on arrival as Natsuki’s fiancee, the girl wanting to assure her aging grandmother that she is happy. While watching him clumsily take on the part we are also introduced to Natsuki’s huge extended family in another fantastic display of Hosoda’s ability to portray realistic, everyday characters with humanity and humour. It was the hallmark of TGWLTT, and here Hosoda does it again with apparent ease and flourish, especially considering the scale of the cast he has chosen – I can’t remember another anime film that effortlessly portrays so many fleshed out, convincing characters without once resorting to easy stereotypes. While certain archetypes have obviously been chosen – the insolent, black-sheep-of-the-family-uncle, the prissy aunt and the moody, reclusive video gaming teenager are all here – not once throughout the course of the story does Hosada leave you in any doubt that this are real people, with emotions and depth beyond their initial two-dimensional appearances.

Also as with The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, just when Hosoda has lulled you into believing it may be just another, all be it exquisitely crafted, romance tinged family comedy, he reminds you of Summer Wars‘ science fiction roots. On the first night at Natsuki’s family home, as the embarrassed Kenji is trying to catch some sleep, he receives an anonymous text message inviting to him to solve a complex maths code. Unable to resist the challenge he stays up till dawn trying to solve the puzzle, only to wake for breakfast – in one of the films most amusing sequences – and find himself the main story on the TV news. It turns out that he has not only inadvertently helped someone hack Oz’ highest level security systems, but also allowed them to frame him for it. Suddenly Kenji has to not only convince Natsuki’s family that he’s not a cyber-terrorist, but also try to enlist their help in stopping the mysterious hacker before the damage to Oz has devastating consequences for the real world.

Summer Wars isn’t a film heavy on subtext or philosophy, with its perhaps most obvious theme being modern society’s over-reliance on technology, but elsewhere Hosoda seems to have something to say about the nature of families and relationships in the internet age. To say it is about virtual communities versus real families would be an over simplification, and certainly he doesn’t want to take sides – even while Kenji is envious of Natsuki’s close knit clan, we are subtly reminded that family life is never perfect, and how non-biological bonds can often be the strongest. It is tempting to see this as a response to Miyazaki’s outspoken comments on the detrimental effects of the virtual world, especially in light of Hosada’s short-lived career at Ghibli, but in reality the director is refusing to preach at all, the main message here being that strength and happiness lies in the bonds between individuals, and the nature of the connection – digital or analogue, blood or friendship – is ultimately immaterial.

Visually the film is as stunning as could have been hoped for after the subtle splendor of TGWLTT. The character design is immaculate throughout, with Yoshiyuki Sadamoto again not resorting to generic or stereotyped work despite the unusually huge cast. Similarly the background work is exquisite, and instantly reminiscent of the best of Makoto Shinkai’s productions, and elsewhere TGWLTT’s eye for subtle slapstick makes a welcome, occasional return. However where the film really grabs the attention is in the depiction of the virtual world Oz. Those that remember the brief, stylish CGI time leap sequences from Hosoda’s last film will recognize the basic aesthetic feel, but here influences from video games, anime, consumer GUI and Japanese mascot design are drawn together to make a frenetic, futuristic but utterly believable environment populated by avatars that somehow look both cutting-edge and all-too familiar.

Perhaps the film’s only weakness is its only briefly explored back story as to the identity of the mystery hacker. I won’t reveal the answer here, but it’s a cyberpunk standard familiar from everything from Neuromancer through Ghost in the Shell to Denno Coil – the later, incidentally being a work that Summer Wars seems to give a noticeable nod of acknowledgment to. Both Madhouse productions seem to want to achieve the unlikely pairing of VR techno-thriller and Ghibli-esque family adventure, and while both succeed, there’s no denying Summer Wars does it in a more big-budget blockbuster style. And I mean that as a compliment; while it may be louder and more colorful than the The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, at its heart still lies a similarly subtle, intelligent and touching film. As such Summer Wars is a rare treat, and one you should enjoy as soon as you can.

COMPETITION NOW CLOSED. Winners will be notified shortly by email – so good luck!

Last week I had a brief look at Madhouse’s Devil May Cry anime series based on the popular PlayStation game franchise – and time permitting I’ll still be taking a more in depth look over the next couple of weeks – but my first impressions were pretty strong. It’s a dark and brooding show art-wise, that still manages to maintain a sense of humour while packing in all the stylish demon killing and violent bloodshed of the original games. It might not break any new ground in terms of originality or innovative storytelling, but that’s not really the point. Big guns and even bigger swords – that’s the point.

But why take my word for it – at least four of you are going to get a chance to see it for yourselves. I’ve teamed up with the generous people over at Manga Entertainment UK, who have kindly given me two copies of the DVD set and two copies of the Blu-ray set to give away. That’s right – the complete series could be yours for absolutely free. All you have to do is email me with the answer to this question:

In the original game series, what was the name of Dante’s twin brother?

COMPETITION NOW CLOSED. Winners will be notified shortly by email – so good luck!

There’s been a lot of bad news and vibes around the US anime industry recently – with some rather major players taking a hit – but for once here in the UK things seem to be ticking over quite happily. Sure we might be a few months behind our American cousins, but judging by the amount of screeners and press releases that have been jamming up my mailbox over the last month it looks like the UK distributor’s schedules show no easing up at the moment. It’s certainly more than I can review in detail before they hit shops, so in the first of what will be a regular feature here’s a run down of stuff that’s due to drop next month – keep an eye on the site over the next few weeks for more in-depth analysis of the pick of the crop.

Ghost in the Shell 2.0

UK release date: 26th October

The big one next month – the UK finally gets it’s hands on the controversial visually over-hauled version of Oshii’s 1995 cyberpunk classic. The DVD screener I was sent had no extras on it, so I’ll hold off until I get my Bluray copy before commenting on the UK release any further – but I will say that the transfer looked great, though I’m still not sure it is enough to dispel my reservations about the changes I raised when reviewing the Japanese Bluray back in January. Stay tuned though, as well as for my imminent look at the Innocence Bluray release. Now, where’s Sky Crawlers?

X The Series – Volume 1

UK release date: 5th October

The other big UK release this October, and long-overdue, is the 2001 TV series based on CLAMP’s legendary demographic defying manga X. It’s been years since I watched the 1996 anime movie based on the same franchise, but i might have to go and grab the DVD of the shelf again, as from first glance the series seems to outstrip that production in terms of visual brilliance – a rare and unusual achievement for a TV show. It certainly captures the manga’s unique (at the time, at least) blend of ornate shōjo visuals and seinen violence, and as such will be one I’ll be examining in much more detail over the coming weeks when I’ve had time to sit down and spend some quality time with it.

Devil May Cry – Complete Series

UK release date: 19th October

My only previous encounter with the Devil May Cry franchise was the first game on the PlayStation 2 several years ago – the stylish, violent, gothic brawler now spawning an anime series that seems to be…erm, a stylish, violent, gothic brawler. Not that there’s anything wrong with that – at first glance Madhouse seem to have hit the nail on the head when it comes to catching the spirit of the game – this is over-stylised, action-packed slightly emo looking exploitation anime at it’s most colourful. I’m interested in how it’ll look on Bluray, and hopefully I’ll it will be fun for the same reasons I enjoyed the game – just minus the occasionally tedious jumping puzzles. Check back next week for a full review.

Claymore – Volumes 5 & 6

UK release date: 12th October

I have to admit, Claymore is one of those shows I probably should have seen but never got round to it. Another Madhouse production, like Devil May Cry it’s yet more stylised violence and demon slaying, but clearly with a little more going on under the hood plot-wise. Certainly coming in at Volume 5 made it a bit hard to follow, but that’s probably a good sign, and the frenetic, over the top sword fights seem like fun. I particularly enjoyed the deep, washed out palette and the soundtrack that seemed to mix up metal riffs, drum and bass breaks and, erm, free-form jazz drumming. Yeah, really.

Bleach – Series 4, Part 1
Naruto Unleashed – Series 7, Part 2

UK release date: 26th October

Ahh, Bleach and Naruto, with your hyperactive but angst-ridden, teen samurai’s and bratty ninjas, will your stories never end? Will your protagonists ever finally come-of age? I’m no fan of either colossal franchise, but then I’m hardly the target demographic – and if you are a fan, then you’ve probably got both these new collections marked in your school planner already. So enjoy. Who the hell am I – some miserable old geezer – telling you what you should be watching anyway? Yeah, like, whatever.

(Note: This is the third and final part of an ongoing review of RideBack. Read the first and second parts.)

As Japan’s winter anime season ends, so too does what was arguably it’s highlight: Atsushi Takahashi’s 12 part series RideBack. A refreshingly unique take on the teenage mecha genre, it’s merging of dark politics, ballet and reluctant heroes – while also rejecting anime standards such as fan service and obligitary romance – seemingly dividing fans and critics. It seems partly this was due to show’s gentile, graceful pace – a result perhaps of Takahashi’s Ghibli background, and his wish to never let the viewer forget his main protagonist’s ballerina past – and while it became the show’s trademark, it seems to have left some commentators craving a little more action, along with a quicker moving plot. It’s interesting then, that the director hasn’t shied away from this style, even in the concluding episodes of the show’s finale.

That’s not to say that some of the brutality shown in earlier episodes is absent. Earlier in the series we saw Rin’s kid brother tortured by the corrupt GGP regime, and in episode 10 this is surpassed when one of her friends is mistaken for her at a political rally, with devastating and fatal results. In many ways it’s here that the show is at it’s strongest – it’s depiction of Japan under the control of a global totalitarian authority is one of a seemingly normal and familiar society – until lines are crossed. What we are seeing here is a very 21st century dictatorship; hidden, friendly and nothing for you to worry about – as long as you stay in line. In many ways it feels like Takahashi is holding up modern day politics to us and asking us to face our own apathy towards those things we’d rather not bother ourselves with; civil rights infringements, surveilance, the news nedia and the questionable aspects of the war on terror.

If this is the show’s intention, then central character Rin Ogata is it’s purest embodiment. She never once shows an interest in politics – throughout the series her main motivation seemingly being to find something to replace dancing in her life, and even when ridebacks seem to fill this void she rejects them when the situations around her become too complex. Reluctant heroes are nothing new in anime – the unwitting, angst ridden teenage mecha pilot saving the world has been a standard archetype since Neon Genesis Evangelion, and perhaps even earlier – but Rin seems to take it even further. She rejects the role of symbolic figurehead to the protest movement and abhors violence and the use of RBs as weapons, getting involved in the action only when she sees her friends or family are being threatened. Even in the final episode – while resistance fighters and GGP forces clash elsewhere in what is by far the bloodiest battle of the series – Rin finds her own way of resisting, allowing her friends to escape as she defeats a squad of unmanned mechs using a series of ballet moves. It’s an unusual, but powerful and beautifully animated sequence, and while some fans have expressed disappointment at Rin’s lack of violence considering what she has endured at the hands of the GGP, it brings the show full-circle thematically, and fits Rin’s character perfectly and believably. She is, after all, a ballet dancer and not a terrorist. As she fights the unpiloted mechs on the ground where her friend was brutally killed, it feels like her actions are driven as much by self expression and a desire to not be made into something she is not, as they are by revenge or a quest for political justice.

It’s easy to understand why some viewers will feel disappointed though – while RideBack personally ticked key boxes for me, it’s mixture of political dissatisfaction and calm pacing reminding me in some ways of the first two Patlabor films – for others a more explosive ending would have felt more comfortable, more familiar. That aside, there’s still so much to recomend the show – along with it’s beautiful animation and it’s skillful use of both electronic and classical music, it features what is possibly the most accurate portrayal of computer hacking depicted in an anime show to date. It’s unclear whether there will be attempts to extend the franchise – while the GGP has been driven out of Japan, the rest of the world still lies in it’s grip – but in many ways it feels like Rin Ogata’s story is very much over, with the finale’s final frames showing us yet again, in amongst all the chaos and violence, what she really values the most.

(Note: This is the third and final part of an ongoing review of RideBack. Read the first and second parts.)

(Note: This is the second part of an ongoing review of RideBack. The first part can be read here and the final part here.)

If you read my review last month of the first three episodes of Atsushi Takahashi‘s teenage mecha series RideBack then you’ll remember that I was pretty impressed with it, especially it’s more mature take on what is quite an established genre. One element that intrigued me was the way the show’s political backdrop was being slowly introduced; news reports and media clips played out in the background, while it’s teenage protagonists seemed blissfully disinterested. Well, you can only ignore global totalitarian regimes – and the inevitable insurgents that spring up in reaction to them – for so long; both have a habit of making you pretty damn aware of them sooner rather than later. And usually not in a good way. It’s certainly fair to say this is true for ex-ballerina Rin Ogata and her college pals by episode 4, when they start to find it pretty hard to ignore those news reports – especially as they’re in some of them.

For a start, when Rin breaks through an army blockade on her RideBack to get her roommate out of a terrorist attack on a shopping mall, she doesn’t just grab the attention of the media, police and the GGP (the aforementioned, shadowy fascistic regime) but also the piqued interest of the so-called terrorists themselves. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg; despite pleas from club boss Tenshirō Okakura to keep her head low, things start to take a turn for the even more serious when her kid brother Kenji falls in with a gang of RideBack riders on an Akira style rampage, and she steps in to try and bail him out, not realising that the whole stunt has been a set-up to allow the GGP to publicly show off it’s new (distinctly Patlabor like) police RideBacks. It doesn’t end well, with her arrested and being forced to watch her brother being tortured by GGP secret police. With just that one brief scene, both the tone and focus of the show shifts permanently.

I won’t say too much more – I’m not here to give a you a blow by blow account of what happens in every episode or reveal spoilers – just to say that Rin gets busted out by some new allies, we learn some more about Okakura’s murky background, the GGP flexes it’s military muscle, and Rin decides to never ride a RB again. Well, presumably until another friend or family member is danger again in episode 10, at a guess. We also, unsurprisingly, get to see a lot more of the RideBack’s in action – including combat – as well as learning a little about the software and hardware that makes them work, and why young Rin has such a natural talent for riding the things. While the designs – like the initial premise of the show – seem a little outlandish at first, the way the RBs move and operate is fairly convincing, the whole concept of a mech balancing on two tyres and being controlled by its pilot shifting their weight might might seem harder to swallow if we weren’t all familiar with the sight of a Segway and its advanced balance control systems.

And that’s still RideBack’s biggest win: taking a typically unlikely anime premise and making it believable and compelling. If there’s one concern it’s where exactly does the plot go from here – its only just got into gear, and there’s only three more of it’s initial 12 episode run left. It seems that so much as been started that can’t be finished that quickly – or is Madhouse betting on the series being popular enough to get an extended run, a second series or an OVA? Time will tell. Check back in a few weeks when the season has ended and I’ll be sharing my final impression and concluding thoughts.

(Note: This is the second part of an ongoing review of RideBack. The first part can be read here.)

(Note: This is the second part of an ongoing review of RideBack. The first part can be read here and the final part here.)

If you’ve read this site before, or even just glanced over it’s archives, then my appreciation and admiration of director Mamoru Oshii is clearly laid out. As such it would seem not only redundant but also somewhat self indulgent to elaborate further on my love of his tense political sci-fi dramas Ghost in the Shell and Patlabor, or his low budget, live action masterpiece Avalon. Ever since his latest feature film The Sky Crawlers was first announced I have been gripped with excitement and anticipation – although, as always, resigned to the long wait us western fans must endure before we are granted an audience. This week that wait finally ended, and putting aside my deep rooted fanboy allegiances for just under two hours, I was able to sit down and see if anime’s most esteemed auteur could still deliver the goods.

Based on a series of novels by Japanese author Hiroshi Mori, The Sky Crawlers takes its time in revealing it’s true nature to the viewer. Oshii is famous for never rushing his narratives and giving his viewers time to indulge in his slowly paced cinematography, but tSC takes its time in revealing even it’s true setting. Much of the truth about what is happening in the world it’s characters inhabit isn’t made clear until it’s final act, and as such it makes it hard to elaborate without drifting into spoiler territory. Simply put, it is set at a time – possibly the future, or equally maybe an alternate past – when humanity has decided that the only way to avoid war is to stage an artificial, and seemingly endless, one. As a result an eternal air conflict is fought between two rival corporations using WWII style fighter planes and bombers, just to fill the war cravings of the global media, economy and watching public.

This concept is not a new one for Oshii, it being the main driving theme of his second, complex Patlabor movie. Then the subject was how small scale, but very real, wars were allowed to rage unhindered in the less developed parts of the world so that the industrial nations could create the illusion of a lasting peace, and made in 1993 it gives a chillingly clairvoyant portrayal of how easily this cosy illusion can be broken through acts of terrorism. To Oshii war is a vital force in modern capitalist societies, the secret fuel that drives their economies and cultures, but while Patlabor 2 meditates openly and explicitly on this train of thought, tSC is all the more subtler. Throughout it’s duration it only hints at it’s thematic backdrop, preferring instead to focus it’s other unique ingredient; it’s characters.

If eternal, staged war is the formula for peace, then one huge moral question faces the society that puts it into practice: who will do the fighting? For the tSC the answer is the ‘Kildren’, apparently genetically engineered clones of teenage children, raised to do nothing but fly and fight for the corporations that mass-produce them. It is through their eyes that we slowly learn not only about their world, but also the abusive psychological effect it has on them. Raised to know nothing but war, they fly routine, daily sorties while filling the gaps within with drinking and mindless, detached sex. In fact everything appears detached to them; their lives are so routine – the war so endless – that even the thrills of partying and combat seem to bore them. The fact that they are designed to never age – forever staying young, knowing that they will only, inevitably, die in battle – only compounding their increasing alienation from both each other and the world they are supposedly fighting for.

The image of robotic, innocence stripped children being used as weapons in this way is a disturbing one, and one seen to devastating effect in Madhouses‘ groundbreaking 2003 series Gunslinger Girl. Now, as then, it appears the target of critique is anime itself, and perhaps to some larger extent Japanese culture as a whole. For decades anime and manga have made children their assassins and war heroes, and both Gunslinger Girl and Oshii attempt to deconstruct these respective memes, showing instead the brutal reality of how that could manifest in real life. tSC goes a stage further though, coupling this with the earlier theme of the need for perpetual war, and perhaps turning it into an attack on the endless repition of anime subject material, the boredom of the characters representing Oshii’s own disdain at the stale offerings much of the industry produces. At times it even feels like an attack on himself; the use of character names from his previous works is jarring to any watching fan, and coupled with his frequent visual signatures it is almost as though Oshii-san is looking back at his portfolio of work with disappointment at his own lack of originality. If The Sky Crawlers reassures his audience of only one thing its that he shouldn’t be so harsh on himself.

Visually, the film is sumptuous and intoxicating as we have come to expect from the director and his highly experienced creative team at Production IG. The green fields and cloudscape filled blue skies mark a refreshing change of palette from their usual dark, urban environments – but while also maintaining the director’s trademark cold, stark and lonely atmospheres. While the character design is suitably minimal compared to previous IG works, the mechanical design is as phenomenal as expected, the retro-but-futuristic fighter planes betraying a Miyazaki-like fetishism towards WWII aircraft engineering and attention to detail. The dogfight sequences themselves are breathtaking, and again show IG’s mastery of the use of combining CGI and traditional cell animation. Here they had help from FX studio Polygon Pictures, whose recent portfolio shows they are clearly industry leaders – and I don’t say that just because I know someone that works there.

In fact, the opening and regularly punctuating dogfight sequences are perhaps Oshii’s greatest trick. Not only do they break up the mesmerising monotony of watching the Kildren’s routine lives unfold, but they also make the audience participants in their world. The action sequences are so exhilirating, so beautifully choreographed that the viewer ends up almost craving them to return to the screen, and thus becomes the gawping, voyeristic, war-demanding public of the Kildren’s world, and thus ultimately the guilty abuser. It’s a master stroke of manipulation, and a subtle one that perhaps doesn’t truly reveal itself until the films final, bloody dogfight.

Despite it’s deeply thematic nature and social commentary, The Sky Crawlers is perhaps Oshii’s most accessible film since Patlabor. Gone, thankfully, are the philosophical ramblings of GiTS 2: Innocence, instead the discussion is more subtle, the plot more linear. In many ways it feels that Oshii, although rapidly becoming what is considered a veteran filmmaker, is still learning from mistakes and honing his skills. Plus, as always with his work, it’s nothing else if not a visual masterpiece, the imagery and score from Oshii’s long time composer of choice Kenji Kawai combining again to make a compelling and memorable viewing experience. It’s not an easy ride at times, but The Sky Crawlers is certainly one you can’t afford to miss.

As you can probably imagine, I constantly have a lot of anime waiting to be watched. Some of it is brand new recently broadcast shows, others entire series from years ago that I’m still trying to catch up with. However, cursed as I am with a job and a life, decisions have to be made as to which shows I follow and review, and which I just reject straight away. Usually watching one or two episodes is enough to tell, but occasionally shows come along that although they don’t earn my full attention, I can see they may still have something to offer to viewers. So, in the first of a regular series, I present a round up of first episodes you might want to check out.

Soul Eater (2008)

Based on a manga published by Final Fantasy RPG video game giants Square-Enix, Soul Eater is about children at a school for ‘weapon masters’ set in a the fantasy world of Death City. it’s largely pure shonen fare, that is to say it’s aimed at teenage boys, and is much in the mold of stuff like Dragonball Z. In other words its not really my cup of tea – but I will say it does look pretty – if a little simplistic at times – especially in HD. Fans of Gorillaz will probably enjoy the character designs, for a start. It’s loud, brash, and probably worth watching before you take your daily Ritalin hit. If that’s your kind of vibe, then enjoy.

Kurozuka (2008)

Any Madhouse production usually gets my full attention, so I was looking forward to Kurozuka when I first head news of it. Based on the popular seinen novels and manga by Baku Yumemakura, it kicks of in 12th century Japan and deals with Highlander style immortal warriors, including a siren like women that lures traveling ronin to their gruesome deaths. Apparently at some point it fast-forwards to the future, but sadly I didn’t get that far. As a seinen work it is aimed at a more mature audience, but what that mainly seems to mean here is a lot of gore and misery. If you like anime about demonic rituals, graphic violence and stylish dismemberment then this may be for you, but sadly that sort of thing leaves me cold these days.

To Aru Majutsu no Index (2008)

To Aru Majutsu no Index is a magical girlfriend anime based on a series of light novels by Kazuma Kamachi and Kiyotaka Haimura. Set in the future in Academy City – a kind of urban Hogwarts for scientifically enhanced super-powered teenagers (and near Shibuya, according to some visual clues) – it’s main protagonist is Tōma Kamijo, who has the ability to negate others’ powers, who one day a young girl hanging on his balcony railing. She turns out to be a nun from the Church of England, obviously. Although a little too shonen for my tastes, it did do a few things that grabbed my interest. For a start it plays around quite knowingly with the conventions of the magical girlfriend genre, and is genuinely very funny. Also, it makes enough references to the occult, Aleister Crowley and Christianity to really upset that particular breed of Christian fundamentalists that get upset by children’s fantasy, and that’s never a bad thing. Animation is quite nice too, if the character design is a little too moe in places. Give it a go if you’re looking for something a little more light-hearted and colourful.

Nodame Cantabile (2007)

An ongoing shōjo manga by Tomoko Ninomiya, Nodame Cantabile has spawned a huge and successful franchise, with various live action TV shows and movies in various states of production, along with two already completed anime series and a third on the way in 2009. While shōjo material usually fails to appeal greatly to my personal tastes, NC seems to be one of the finest examples of the genre. The romance and drama driven story of two highly talented but very different music students, is well written and again frequently very funny. Worth watching if you love classical music and well paced soap opera, and if that was more my cup of tea I’d be watching the whole first run. As it is, I’ll just have to see what else, if anything, demands my time.

Think I’ve missed the point of one of these? Got it completely wrong? Tell me I’m mental in the comments section below.

There was a point, just a few minutes into the second half of the first episode of RideBack, when I finally decided that it was the first show I’d seen worth following this year. As the main protagonist races her fusion of motorcycle and mecha through her college campus, her skirt bellows in the wind and we hear a passer-by shout “I saw her panties!”. But we, the audience, see nothing. It’s a brief moment, but one that speaks volumes about the series’ intentions.

While almost any other mecha-and-girls anime would have have been rammed full of panty-shots fan service by this point in it’s opening episode, director Atsushi Takahashi‘s (whose impressive credits include assistant director on Spirited Away) decision to make it instead a joke at the audience’s expense hopefully shows a desire for turning what first appears quite obvious material into a witty, mature, intelligently written show.

Well, I say obvious material. To the blissfully uninitiated the story of a beautiful teenage ballet prodigy fighting a fascist state while riding a robot that transforms into a motorbike may sound ludicrous at first. Unfortunately, it could be considered a pretty formulaic, generic, box-ticking plot in today’s conservative, recession hit shonen anime industry.

Produced by Madhouse and adapted from the manga by Tetsurō Kasahara, RideBack is set in 2020 and tells the story of 19 year old Rin Ogata. The daughter of a famous ballerina, she was expected to follow in her mothers footsteps, but quit at the age of 16 due to a fractured foot, and instead enrolls in Musashino University. The first half of the first episode deals with the pretty but shy girl’s experiences on the first day of college, and comes across at first as pretty standard issue shōjo anime; Rin wants to just fit in with everyone, but to her embarrassment she keeps being recognised, and the unwanted attention seems to be causing some jealousy issues with her best friend and roommate. So far, so..well, slightly dull. But there’s something else going on – through cleverly and subtly shown TV news clips in the background, that none of the characters ever seem to be watching or care about, hints emerge of a possibly authoritarian global regime, and the actions of opposing ‘terrorists’.

As soon as we come back after the mid-way ad break things start to get really interesting. One day after classes Rin wanders into the University RideBack Club, where she encounters for the first time the eponymous class of mech, an interesting (and convincingly believable) robotic motorbike able to raise itself up on to 2 legs. Urged on by club member otaku-mechanic Haruki Hishida, she reluctantly agrees to take the RB for a spin – which quickly turns into the shows first brilliantly animated, frenetic, high speed action sequence. The sudden, quite extreme shift in pace grabs your attention instantly, but it’s Rin’s emotional response that draws you into the scene – her own surprise that she’s exhilarated rather than scared by the experience makes it clear to both her, and the viewer, that she may have finally found something to fill the hole left in her life by quitting the stage.

In fact, it turns outs as the episodes continue, that Rin has an almost prodigious talent as a RideBack pilot. Again, not much of a surprise to anyone who’s seen a teenage mecha drama before, but again the show portrays it in a convincing and subtle light – basically, due to her years of dance training, Rin’s sense of poise and balance enables her to override some of the mech’s automatic control systems, giving her a competitive edge. She’s soon recruited into the club by it’s two most senior members – RideBack racing champ Tamayo Kataoka and the older, moody Tenshirō Okakura, whom it would seem, through some very subtle indications, may possibly have links to the aforementioned ‘terrorist’ movement.

The animation throughout the show matches the quality of the script, with some bold character designs that play with established stereotypes, and backgrounds that make a nod towards Shinkai, but it’s the action and race scenes that really make an impact. They successfully and instantly convey a feeling of speed and flight, aided by a pounding electronic soundtrack, which although maybe a little acid-trance for my own tastes, certainly fits the on-screen action. The mecha designs are cool yet realistic looking, with the CGI used to animate them again subtle and convincing, thankfully. It seems that both budget constraints and industry fashion dictate now that it will be very rare to see hand drawn mecha again in a modern anime project – in itself not necessary a problem if the integration of CGI and 2D art is done well enough, and while still noticeable, it largely is here. At least it works much better than many recent examples, such as last years’ slightly dismal looking Blassreiter.

At just 3 episodes in of a planned 12, it’s still relatively early days for RideBack. It seems to have got the necessary charcter introductions out of the way in a pleasingly subtle manner, and already started to hint at some darker, deeper plot arcs. It’s up to the production team to keep up the momentum now, and prove that the show can develop into a mature and memorable take on an established genre. I’m certainly going to be keeping an eye it for the next few months and letting you know what I think, so stay tuned for more.

(Note: This is the first part of an ongoing review of RideBack. The second part can be read here.)