Category — Manga

With each passing month, I find myself more and more attracted to manga. I’ve dipped in and out of some interesting scanlations over the years, but I’d never call myself a manga fan. Anime has always been my thing, as there are several aspects of it (as a medium) that are vital to my enjoyment of a good story. So, for example, I dare not even consider experiencing Berserk without Susumu Hirasawa’s accompanying score, as I doubt the characters would have worked for me as well as they did without his music; he adds so much life to the story. All those feelings are starting to change, though.

Just this morning, I received 3 new manga volumes and honestly, I feel so excited just to own them. I really want to read them. That’s how I used to feel about anime too, but for every series I’ll adore, like Berserk and Gankutsuou, there will be 10 more that I might enjoy but rarely leave me with a lasting impression. When I flick through manga, I love how it looks so unique, as if you can grasp exactly what the artist is trying to convey just by thumbing through his/her story at a natural pace. A lot of anime isn’t like that, as there is always this sense of something being compromised, be it animation quality/style or the story itself for the sake of a broader audience, running time or a tight budget. Once you acclimatize to those limitations, anime loses a lot of its charm and feels somewhat predictable. I’m not saying this because I’m falling out of love with anime, far from it, but that’s probably why I’m gravitating towards manga; it’s a freer, distilled and more creative form of story-telling.

“Moral rights” is a fancy term (the French thought it up) that basically has to do with having your name attached to your creation (your credit!) and the right to approve or disapprove certain changes to your creation. Of course, we want you to get credit for your creation, and we want to work with you in case there are changes, but we want to do so under the terms in this pact instead of under fancy French idea. So, in order for us to adapt the Manga Pilot for different media, and to determine how we should include your credit in tough situations, you agree to give up any “moral rights” you might have.”

Those bloody “fancy French” and their lofty ideas about “moral rights”. Hang on… This wasn’t written by Dr. Evil, but Tokyopop! Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever read a more ill-conceived, smarmy paragraph, and from a multi-national manga publisher no less, that’s so clearly intent on hoodwinking aspiring comic artists. After reading the above, would you sign this agreement?

There’s not much to say about Itazura na Kiss that hasn’t already been said, ad nauseum, elsewhere. At this point, it’s generic shojo, vintage 1990; kind of like Fruits Basket, but not as immediately endearing. I’m two episodes in and the characters have yet to evolve beyond their archetypal roles. We have this unlikely pair, the stuck-up boy (Naoki) and the clumsy girl (Kotoko), set for an unlikely romance.

Kotoko is a nice person and I can’t help but cheer her on. I guess I have a weakness for this brand of shojo, as, in many ways, it’s fairly dull (the colours are washed out and there’s no obvious fan-pandering), yet, almost immediately, I’m into the characters. I think it’s that they try to hide their fallibility, or insecurity, and I find that blatant in-perfection hard to resist. That said, I’m not sure I would be bothering with this if I wasn’t aware that rather simply ending once Naoki and Kotoko inevitably hook-up, the story forges ahead, beyond high school and into marriage. Though, at this point, it’s admittedly familiar stuff, the idea of exploring the ups and downs of a relationship over years, possibly even decades, is quite fascinating.

I know, I’m way behind the loop on this one, but, for all my lag, I just wanted to say that the first two episodes of Kure-nai were outstanding. Having read wave after wave of praise for this series since its April debut, I was anxious to get it out of the way, but, for only the second time this season (after Kaiba, naturally), I absolutely wanted to devour its second episode right after the first.

It’s appeal is, quite vitally, character-driven. Inside five or six minutes of that first episode, I’d already latched onto (in an emotional sense) the likable protagonists. It’s not just that the voice acting is uniformly raw and natural, or that intricate body language (and the mise en scène itself) portrays an intimate sense of insecurity and loneliness, it’s the sharp dialogue, the humor; it’s as dynamic and as tender as live action drama.

All that, and I haven’t even mentioned that Kure-nai, for all its slice of life, occasionally ripples with an action-packed, supernatural undercurrent. In many ways, you can recognise it’s crafted by the same creative team that worked on Red Garden, but their evolution here, if just that ability to portray the underrated, easy-going whimsy of every-day suburbia, is profoundly improved. Provided that warm spark of personality doesn’t fade into the shadow of a ridiculous conspiracy (as was the case with Red Garden), it may well become a masterpiece. The spring season starts now.

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.

If manliness were a disease, it couldn’t get much worse than Golgo 13. The aptly named Duke Togo doesn’t do emotion, he does big guns, and his legendary aim is as precise with the hearts’ of fine ladies as when trained on the “meat-filled football” (Golgo’s words, not mine) of a terrorist. Being billed as Japan’s answer to James Bond, you should know what to expect. It’s low-budget, gratuitous entertainment, but where the James Bond character is charismatic, the forever grimacing Duke is just a big rock of nothing. I have some doubts as to how this formula can stretch for 50 episodes, but regardless, I’m quite determined to see whether that moody rock of manliness dares crack a smile. For now, it’s a novelty.

I expected Himitsu - The Revelation to be one of the better series of the spring season, but, on this evidence, it’s just another mediocre helping of bishonen homoeroticism destined to be contorted in the day-dreams of yaoi fan-girls. In some near future, a special unit of the Japanese police can remove the brains of murder victims to view their memories just prior to death; in truth, it’s a really interesting premise, but the abject animation quality and lack of personality is fatal.

Much like The Daughter of Twenty Faces, I went into Amatsuki with low expectations. It looks mediocre, in the sense that it’s overflowing with cliche bishonen character designs and therefore, blatant (almost Get Backers-esque) homo eroticism. The animation isn’t especially good, but again, the overall feeling wasn’t bad at all. Story is basically that modern, apathetic boy gets thrown back in time to Edo-era Japan. You know, that same period depicted in Rurouni Kenshin, Peacemaker and every other samurai anime. Yes, Amatsuki is set in a familiar place, but there are supernatural elements too. Next few episodes will be crucial in determining whether it’s merely pretending to be interesting.

The more anime I see, the more I find myself making comparisons between series. If you’ve seen Last Exile, it’s worth noting that new anime Allison and Lillia could be renamed (the adventures of) Lavie and Claus. It is kind of fun, albeit very sanitized, good honest fun. Flowing blond Allison is the spunky girl-pilot ready to take on the world, while her friend Will is the clever, yet timid male lead willing to be dragged along for the adventure. Their bright optimism and slow home lives, surrounded by colourful, open countryside, will be at odds with the (so far unforeseen) horrors of war. Again, this wasn’t an amazing episode of anime, but it was competent enough to be worth another look. Better than Amatsuki, at least.

Aside from being a rather perverted little bastard, there is something quite alluring about the works of Go Nagai. Though he’s infamous for creating stories as morally abhorrent as Violence Jack, I’ve always loved his Devilman. It might be vulgar, violent and edge towards illogic, but it’s fun too. Up until yesterday, I’d only seen the excellent yet all too short 1987/1990 OVA series, but now, finally, all 5 volumes of his original Devilman manga have been scanslated. 2 volumes in and I’m sitting here buzzing with excitement, it’s wonderfully weird, crazy stuff. Indeed, there is something innately fascinating about Nagai’s depiction of demons; not that they’re monsters per se, but they seem to have built up this whole culture and have their own ideas about beauty and morality. Whenever I watch (and now, read) Devilman, that aspect always catches me off guard; it’s all the more remarkable for suddenly transforming into this bitter-sweet, demonic love story.