Category — Kaiba

Batman: Gotham Knight will be released on Tuesday, though naturally, a DVD-rip has already hit the internet. I’m one of those guys that loved the Animatrix (after the first Matrix movie, it’s the best thing contributed to that franchise) and Gotham Knight is looking like more of the same. If you need a deal clincher, just know that Studio 4°C has animated one of the segments (”Have I Got A Story For You”). Their Beyond short for the Animatrix was wonderful and ended up becoming my favourite segment (along with “Kid’s Story“) before I even knew the name Studio 4°C. Artsy pretence aside, with this we’ll no doubt be getting Japanese animation that’s fluid, action-packed and stylish, could be hit or miss but an exhilarating showcase for our beloved Annie-May none the less. Soon to be seen on MTV, I bet.

While the bond shared by Patches and Quilt was lovably quaint, this episode, in an allegorical sense, was hard to follow. It didn’t feel as coherent or as meaningful as the previous couple, but seemed half intent on satirising the fashion industry. It was fun, easy to watch and, for once, finished off with a hint of optimism. Of particular note is that the visuals were probably the most surreal yet, with scene after scene cutting from brilliant yellows to depressed greys and thick, scratchy outlines containing some truly odd shapes. From start to finish, it was pure imagination, so creative, and just a joy to watch. Korean Choi Eunyoung was the co-writer, storyboarder, director and animation director for this episode. Eunyoung is female too. There are so few women working within the anime industry that she merits special attention. This could be something that many of the anime fans following Kaiba might have overlooked; though Masaaki Yuasa sits as the “Chief Director” of the series, many of the episodes are being handed off to some of the brightest up-and-coming talents of the anime industry. This is why the style will often shift from one episode to the next, as each artist is given free reign to inject their own creative styles. I would even go so far as to say that this whole planet-of-the-week premise exists merely to offer up the likes of Eunyoung as much artistic freedom as possible. On a related note, the next episode will be handled by an American called Jamie Vickers. Obviously, both Eunyoung and Vickers are foreigners, a fact that not only blurs the very meaning of “Japanese animation”, but suggests that as the global popularity of anime develops, more and more talented artists from outside of Japan are working their way into the industry.

Though it didn’t offer up of the kind of visual poetry I’ve come to associate with the most transcendent scenes of Kaiba, the fourth episode was just as affecting as ever. The bleak final moments, in particular, left me with a bitter taste. A lot is said about treasure. Treasure can be gold and diamonds, or a photo and a flower; a special memory. Because the boys in this episode are so emotionally introverted (selfish, basically), their understanding of other people, even family, is tainted; from their limited perspectives, their Grandpa’s treasure has to mean wealth; it can’t possibly be anything else, as this concept of being in love, or of cherishing family, is so completely alien to them. In the end, they die pathetic deaths, without a friend in the world, because, with their selfish lives, they can’t even remotely relate to others. It feels so sad, like such a waste, because no-one is born truly alone; “The world’s the same all over, big or small.” said Grandma, “What truly matters is the size of your heart.”

For such a sad episode, by far and away the best, most cohesive in the series up to this point, it’s notable that the heart-shattering story is left almost completely unspoken, yet, piecing together Chroniko’s life and ultimately, death, just as her Aunt’s lost memories fade back into perspective, isn’t difficult at all. Aided with its lovely, whimsical soundtrack, Kaiba speaks a universal visual language; the colours, the weather, the landscape, they scream of loss, regret and nostalgia. This episode is about, if nothing else, the value of memory, not necessarily the every-day, mundane ones, but those of your closest friends and family. Removing all of those precious moments, selling them like books from a shelf, inevitably reduces the effected relationships to loveless, null apathy. The way this episode finishes, the culmination of the Aunt’s introspective realization of guilt and loss through elegant music and fast-returning memories, is one of the most emotionally evocative and down-right sad sequences of anime I’ve seen for a very long time.

With the first episode finished, it’s no longer enough for Kaiba to merely look original. This follow-up wasn’t as visceral or as exciting as the first, but one scene in-particular struck me as really quite lovely. Nine minutes in, ‘Warp’ and friends, flying high in their aircraft, glimpse out of near-by window. What they see is a river of gleaming ‘Roe’ (a liquid-golden egg of human memory that appears after that person’s physical body has expired) floating into the vast expanse above. As animated art alone, scored with a soft, melancholy tune, it’s a moment that looks and feels wonderful, yet it takes on an added poignancy because we know that every egg, and the sky is full of them, represents a unique person. As far as I can tell, the Roe have no direction, no identifying features, they just float aimlessly, carrying their memories, destined for nowhere. Is this a comment on life? If so, I suppose it’s sounding dreary and hopeless, but the scene itself feels as beautiful as explained. It’s true that there is something small and insignificant about one individual egg (person) in a thousand, yet each one gleams golden in the sky, just the same as any other, so pretty, adding to the scene. Without the Roe, essentially, without life, the sky would be dull and empty. I’m reminded of a favourite line from Kino’s Journey; “The world is not beautiful, therefore it is”.

Watching the debut episode of Kaiba, I found it hard to shake recollections of the works of children’s author Roald Dahl. Many of his books are undeniably childish, but they boast an organic, grotesque quality too. Often Dahl’s premises are colourful and funny, but his characters can be ghastly, horrific monsters, vividly evil. It’s quite fascinating to me how perhaps the most beloved children’s author of all-time was able to craft his scary, disturbing stories within the genre of kids literature to such great acclaim. This Dahlian edge slices through Kaiba too, in that its simplistic design could fool many into thinking this is a children’s cartoon, yet the moral quality of its inhabitants is, at best, ambiguous. Considering this sugar-coated depiction of depravity, Kaiba sets out to be as deliciously subversive as Dahl; gleefully dragging us into a nightmare realm of fear and violation by betraying our aesthetic assumptions.

Until I’ve caught up with some of the other spring anime, I’m stalling on watching more of Kaiba, but for the sake of curiosity, I can’t stop myself from streaming an occasional clip on YouTube. The above excerpt (from episode 3) is wonderful. You don’t need to understand the dialogue to feel what’s happening, just listen to the music and check the facial expressions. A nostalgic, tired-looking grandma sits to play her piano, and with each sad note, another long-forgotten memory rings back into recollection. Her sister, her child, her husband, she suddenly realises all of what she’s lost, and now, life having passed her by, tears roll down her wrinkled cheeks. Full of regret, she remembers everything, she’s all alone. The music stops. You know, this is what great animation is capable of, sweeping, moving, sad, wonderful human feeling.