(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.)

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.)