City Hunter - episodes 8 to 26

One, two, mokkori. One, two, mokkori ...

City Hunter somewhere down the track seems to have lost a lot of its serious treatment. The blame can rest almost squarely on Kaori’s 10, 100 and 1000 ton hammers. With a woman beating Ryo up at every move he makes, the poor City Hunter’s chances for mokkori with any of the beautiful women in his clientele drastically fall.
The series also takes more turns into the surreal with a psychic gambler, a shrine maiden, a transvestite gangland boss and far, far too many instances of Ryo shooting right into the barrels of his opponent’s guns … from a block away ... than is strictly believable.
The most gritty realism comes from ... well, there is no gritty realism any more. While Ryo may be a good guy beneath all the lechery, he's not given much of a chance to show his caring side. He meets a kid from a war torn land and is charged with corrupting him, but the kid is really just a pervert at heart anyway. Of course, he's not entirely without his sensitive side; the movie episode and the romance course episode showcased some of his more tactful ways of dealing with women. It can only be hoped that the fact neither episode contains any real danger is simple coincidence.
There are instances when the episodes don’t make much sense: episodes where the bad guys were actually good, despite having earlier piloted an attack helicopter and made Ryo’s car explode.

The episodes offer some pretty good situations among the bizarre, such as the tried and true "Police and stalker pop idol" routine. This is mainly handled with the seriousness that it deserves, but also with the intensely odd notion of confusing a gift of brass knuckles with an engagement ring. There's not really that much more that can be said.

There’s a disappointing dearth of Umibozu scenes – so few as to the point of none - but there’s another recurring character who has been introduced. Nogami Saeko is a police officer and, to Ryo, is poison. No other woman knows how to manipulate Ryo in such a fashion as she. Saeko’s chief tactic is to offer sweet mokkori compensation for whatever task she wants the City Hunter to do. She’s just smart enough, however, to never give him anything. The cases that Saeko takes on are among the more interesting, particularly as she’s the dame for these episodes and no new character with some sort of hidden beauty has to be introduced.
Between Saeko and Kaori, however, it’s unclear if Ryo will ever get any mokkori ever again. Ryo’s failure to be totally emasculated by this pair probably says something about his strength of character. He’ll go on chasing the mokkori no matter how many hammers are thrown his way (and Kaori’s a pretty good shot). Also of note are the "Kaori is a man" jokes, which are becoming increasingly elaborate, hilarious and ludicrous. She was thrown out of a change room as a peeping tom!

Kamiya Akira has, in the time between seriousness, become a master of the pratfall. The sounds that he makes when he gets thrown out of windows or what have you are priceless and not so much accurate as appropriate.

City Hunter is very much a "just one more" series. It's easy to consume it in vast quantities because it calls to you. Each episode is surprisingly different, despite the constancy of Ryo's mokkori hunts and Kaori's hammerings. There's not a heck of a lot of growth, though, and so comedy continues to be the hardest genre to write for.

Project A-Ko 3

This is better. It's not hilarious, but it's kind of nice to watch.
Project A-ko 3 is about A-ko taking a job in order to pay off C-ko's debts over the holidays, or something like that, and falling in love with a biker who actually loves C-ko. Of course, because A-ko loves this guy, Kei, B-ko has to have a piece of him, too. That's all this is about, but the key is that it doesn't aim too high.

Firstly, there's some stunning originality here: for the first time in what seems like forever, the burger place does not in any way look like McDonald's. The intro is a totally unexpected sepia toned pool tournament which turns out to be both quite stylish and also C-ko's ultimate fantasy. I suppose there's got to be something to the girl. There's also a funny but ultimately pointless mobilisation sequence. It's more than forgiveable by virtue of its coolness and the sapphic nudity encountered along the way (at this point, you may curse this DVD's uncappable nature). B-ko's mission makes some sense, and the treatment of her gang was actually pretty cool this time around. Hayashibara Megumi even gets a couple of grunts out of her role as fat girl Ume.
The true highlight is A-ko's fashion show, which shows some rare visual creativity.

The production values are significantly better than its predecessor, employing actual colours, and containing an insert song performed by the A-ko, B-ko and C-ko trio. The ED song (which might not be an ED at all, as it was set to footage of from Project A-ko 2) fares less well as it's an English language song by Bébe. Hot Hot Hurricane and so on. It doesn't make much sense and isn't very eighties. The rest of the music was mercifully recycled from Project A-ko or was simply not bad at all.
The translation isn't perfect, in one major regard that I could see. Firstly it translated "cola" as "coke". The important part was that it made a joke less funny, translating B-ko's "My first man" into "My first love". B-ko is at her most "sexual" in this OVA, which admittedly isn't very sexual but the strongest admission of her leanings you're ever likely to find.

After Project A-ko 3 came, unsurprisingly, Project A-ko 4 - but thereafter came Project A-ko the Versus: an alternate reality series about bounty hunters. Yes, this series quite clearly lasted forever. This effort may be light, but at least it's there.

Millennium Actress

Millennium Actress is a film that proves that a story is sometimes not as important as the way it is told. This is a great story as it is, but Kon Satoshi's unique directing style raises it to a true work of genius.

On the event of the destruction of the influential film studio Ginei, an independent documentary maker manages to secure an interview with Fujiwara Chiyoko, their most prominent actress, who had become a recluse some thirty years earlier. The thing is that the director, Genya, is one of Chiyoko's biggest fans, and he has something very important to give her: the key that she wore around her neck in her youth, which sets her off on the story of her life.
Chiyoko is such a charismatic person, however, that she draws interviewer and camera man into her past. She doesn't just show them, they start to participate. She takes them from the day when she was sixteen and met the man who gave her the key, until the time she left the business forever, all the while hoping to find that man.

This is not straight flash back storytelling, and very little of it is narrated. Chiyoko tells her story as if it’s just happening, and the lines between fiction and reality blur very finely as her films seemed to be an extension of her journey and ambition.
Chiyoko never intended to go into films, she just saw them as the easiest way to find the Man with the Key. The films blend together seamlessly, with Chiyoko crossing from one period to another and taking the rest of the characters with her. There is even a scene that Genya remembers, despite it being taken from Chiyoko’s real life. Genya has been an expert student on her work for so long that he takes on the role of her protector.
The characters translate into the screen roles really well, even if they weren't actually in the films and were only vaguely in the timline. There are two 'natural' actresses - Chiyoko and Eiko - and the cameraman is one of nature's observers. This role is probably Onosaka Masaya's finest. His exasperation and growing interest are palpable.

Sometimes the fantasy wears off, and Genya is just a man playing with an old woman. At first this may seem to jar, but it somehow makes the whole thing seem more real in the long run - that the seventy year old Chiyoko has lived through all this and retained such vivid memories. It becomes both a true encouragement and also makes her story just that little sadder. While it's a generally joyous work, there are some truly heartrending moments. It's not tragic, however; Chiyoko was fulfilled by her neverending search. It gave her ambition and drive. The fact that she could not stand the drudgery of a stationary housebound marriage is proof that she's not just in need of "a man".
The multiple layers of the film aren’t truly realised until the end – the profundity of Genya’s role can’t be appreciated until it has all been taken in. He is too humble to admit the role that he has played in Chiyoko’s life, and his love for her is more than the simple idolisation that it can be initially taken for. There's so much energy that it's impossible not to enjoy.

Kon is a master of storytelling; this may be only his second film, but he worked very diligently on anime throughout the eighties and nineties. He is not just a narrative, but also a visual storyteller. This film is as rich in imagery as it is in plot, the two of them inextricably linked in such a way that there would not be any point in simply transcribing it. This is a film that must have been a true joy to create, to realise, as yet another vindication of the animated form. Anime is really an excellent medium, and Kon is one of the modern generation's best extollers of this very virtue. Of course, there's very little point in describing a painting. It simply has to be seen.

Millennium Actress is practically impossible to describe without giving it completely away. It's a beautiful tribute to Japanese film, and also to life. Quite apart from the blank thirty years, Chiyoko practically built a film studio - figuratively speaking, of course - despite her ultimately selfish goals, she gave a lot. It's a film too good and delicate to extrapolate on without ruining. Take the cliché to heart and experience this film.
I only use that one when I mean it.

Arjuna - episodes 6 to 13

Arjuna cleans up its act for the second part of the series, with only one horrid episode. And it's a really big one, with an issue that really shouldn't be dealt with in anime - it's episodes like this one that make Arjuna so damned unpopular, a real pity considering what it actually has going for it.

Episodes six and nine are the preachy episodes that were so prevalent in the first five. The isolation of these to two specific episodes softens the blow, as does the lack of multiple cases of Cindy and Chris harrassing Juna. The first preaching episode is actually fine, and could be considered "Juna versus the education system". Juna protests the manufactured state of modern education, and argues that teachers should give their own voice to their lessons and students should learn at their own pace, and all sorts of other impractical ideas.
Two very good points are raised by the episode, however: firstly "The easy thing and happiness aren't necessarily the same thing" and secondly "Once someone changes, then everyone will change - but what if you're the first to change?". Kawamori answers this question both in the script, and with the whole series: you become a social outcast.
The other episode fares less well. I'm fairly mild mannered, and even I found it offensive. It comes off very much as a "pro-life" episode, which we here in anime town have no place for. I think anime is an effective way to tackle social change both in Japan and the world at large, but I found this theme entirely inappropriate. A lot of the episode feels made up, and it also gives Juna the advice "if you're worried about the state of your relationship, consummate it!" which hardly seems progressive. The one thing that it has going for it is that it makes Cindy just the slightest bit sympathetic. Just the slightest.

Quite a few of these episodes are quiet, thoughtful pieces about communication and connection, and the action is pared down to a more emotional level. These are quite good. The highlight of the entire series comes with the production of one of the best apocalypses ever. The power of these scenes is unquestionable, and because this is largely conjecture there's very little to take issue with. The only problem is that Sayuri should have been more sympathetic given all of the horrible things that she had to endure. As it was, however, it was more realistic and probably the "gritty world view" that Kawamori was probably going for - which jarred with his fantasy ideals.
The final arc is all quite heavy, but it's also quiet. The dark oranges and browns suit the feel of a place that has exhausted its sunshine, and there's very little action because almost all that could have happened already has. This sort of low key ending is charged with emotion and is rather like the "anti-climactic" post war scenarios.
Strong themes of nationalism arise, but not from the country itself. Onizuka argues that even if the people of Japan cease to exist, the country will live on through its strong sense of national identity grown into the land. Juna argues that such patriotic thought means nothing to the people of now, and by this point she has thoroughly learned to challenge authority and standard thinking patterns. It has been argued that the view of Japan offered is "anti-American". That kind of sentiment is usually very obvious in anime, and this is not the case here. The situation is a case of humanity versus practicality, and is in no way a divide of the ideals of any countries.
Some ideas have finally got through to Juna, and the ending is one of the kind of hope that can spring only from world's end.

Kawamori Shoji hit a few bumps in making Earth Maiden Arjuna; sometimes it felt too "educational", others it felt annoying, and on one occasion it was mildly offensive. There's some great stuff in here that's harder to express beyond the merely cosmetic decoration of anime. It's just a shame that you have to dig so deep to get past the make-up and the made up.

Miyazaki Showcase: Princess Mononoke

Princess Mononoke is Miyazaki's second most financially successful film and also, in some ways, his most flawed work. Miyazaki's immediate style does not quite suit the epic nature of this film. Miyazaki directs free flow stories, and there is so much to this film that it is hard to see it happening in such a small period of time.

Ashitaka is one of the noblemen of a village that has been driven away from the main, politically charged Japan several hundred years ago. An enraged boar god, driven to the point of demonisation by his pain, attacks this village. Ashitaka kills the boar, but in the process is infected by the curse; a curse of anger that feeds on the hate that dwells within him.
Sent from the village to find his cure, never to return, Ashitaka finds himself in a multifaceted spiritual and political war. Various leaders are fighting amongst themselves for the favour of the Mikado, and their ultimate way of claiming that favour is to kill the Deer God and, in fact, all of the gods that threaten the progress of technology.

Princess Mononoke is, in my eyes, a film about genocide. The people of Japan, having come to a point where they can create things for themselves, taking from the environment, say that they no longer have any use for their gods of old. As a result, they indiscriminately kill them. It reaches the point where they actively
This film documents the end of an era, the transition from the days of the gods to the days of the man made. Can man live a life created by themselves, without reliance on their traditional spirits? It's something that they will have to find out. Did actions similar to those of this film - perhaps not quite so literally god hunting - lead to the state that Japan is in today? Miyazaki doesn't really have a cynical message about modern society in this film, because the characters are at some of his greyest. No one is beyond redemption, and the final moments are truly full of hope. Despite the lack of their physical presence, spirits will always linger in some form or other.

There are some particularly good scenes, the stand out among the whole film being Ashitaka's "this is the shape of my hatred!" speech. The way that Hisaishi Joe's music swells, the look of horror on San's face - it's the film's true highlight. Hisaishi offers some of his most atmospheric and emotive work for Princess Mononoke. You can hear the trees, you can hear the creatures living in the forest, you can hear the march of industrialisation.

There is no denying that Princess Mononoke is a fine film; it's just heavily congested in places - a lot of traffic for what seems to amount to a few days in real time. There's a lot to say about this film, but my thoughts will be jumbled, so I'll leave it here.

City Hunter - episodes 1 to 7

City Hunter is the kind of anime that, if you're truly "into" anime, you're not supposed to like. Of course, the people who say that have a tendency to fall into ditches and get struck by lightning - so, in short, I like it.

From 1987, City Hunter is the story of sweeper Saeba Ryo - a professional killer/bodyguard who also doubles at the world's greatest sexual harasser. Along with his agent, Makimura (later Makimura's sister, Kaori), Ryo takes on the requests of almost exclusively beautiful women. Ryo is notable because he likes to get a "feel" for his clients before taking their jobs, and his clients like to throw tables at him before they realise that he's the man that they hired.
As it stands this is a series that provides a nice balance of drama and comedy.

While each episode may seem the same, and adhere to a formula, Ryo's clientele come from a variety of backgrounds and not all of them want exactly the same thing. In fact, not all of them fall for Ryo, so there aren't as many teary pillows as there are clients. Kaori in particular is immune to Ryo's charm, to the point that he questions her gender. Ryo's missions vary from revenge to protecting the secrets of a sterility virus to guarding an actress from the hitman she hired to kill herself.
The order of Ryo's emotions shift; sometimes he'll do the really cool thing first, like shooting through his hand to impress a girl and prevent street fatalities, and follow it up with his comedy act, such as screaming in pain as soon as the girl leaves him. Other times, he switches from comedy to drama. Admittedly it's not something that can provide that much variety, but it should not go unappreciated. Ryo clearly can see the finer things in life, but he understands the grit that goes with it.

The growing and contracting cast offers a good selection. Besides Ryo there's his original partner who acts as an "agent", Makimura. Makimura was protective of his sister Kaori and seemed to tolerate Ryo's antics. When he's replaced by Kaori, for reasons that I won't go into, there's a different dynamic. Kaori is the sort who looks like she'll grow to be quite violent towards Ryo to put him in his place. One of the most encouraging scenes from these episodes is when Kaori decides to join Ryo. He doesn't try to talk her out of it, he simply makes sure that she understands the risks associated. Sometimes the man has a feeling of social responsibility, even if he does have a tendency to go on panty raids. The only other recurring character so far is Umibozu, another hitman who looks like he could become Ryo's rival, friend and comic foil.

Perhaps the most impressive facet is the pacing. Each episode tells a different story, and is tightly paced out of necessity. It's not a format that one might expect from a crime/underworld series, but it works. The villains are very rarely all of the suited variety, and everyone wants something different. Even when it seems the story won't be resolved in the set time, it somehow is without feeling rushed at all. This makes City Hunter a very suitable series for taking bites out of.

Kamiya Akira's acting as Ryo is first rate: when he's serious he's dashing, and when he's comedic he sounds somewhat akin to a frog. Ryo's favourite word is 'mokkori', which the subtitles don't translate. It's a cute word which should be vaguely construed as 'sekushi' - the reason that it seems to have gone untranslated is because it's a character in itself, and no one other than Ryo would ever use it ever. The remaining cast is made up of eighties stalwarts, many of whom survived well into the nineties. The whole production smacks of Sunrise's high values and is a great example of the era. Characters are mostly attractive with the exception of a few shots and the drug abusers. The OP, "Don't Disappear My Love", is great, with wonderful animation that includes Ryo and Kaori dancing with hat and cane - something one simply can't afford to miss to be happy in this life. It will be sad to see it go. The ED is slightly too long for the animation allotted, so it actually starts at the end of each episode, making them feel "dynamic" or perhaps "empowering". The good thing is that this works for both happy and not so happy endings. This song also boasts some good rhyming English hooks, such as "Get Wild and Tough!" followed by "Get Chance and Luck!". There are even insert songs, which is one of the best ways to add colour to scenes.

So far, City Hunter is highly enjoyable. Maybe it will wear thin over 143 or so episodes, but I don't plan to watch them all at once.

Project A-Ko 2

Let us, for one moment, attempt a metaphor: Consider an orange. Run this orange through a juicer - what you get is the nourishing juice, and the empty, soulless remains of the orange. Project A-Ko 2 is that orange. After the slightly tart fun of the first film, comes the first of three yearly OVA sequels. It's not bad, it's just not anything.

Three weeks or so after the events of the first OVA, the aliens have turned their crashed ship into a luxury spot to pay for repairs to return to their home planet. Meanwhile, B-ko's father is hired by the government to destroy the ship, while he wants to claim the technology for himself. Incidentally, A-ko, B-ko and C-ko are there. Then it ends in exactly the same way as the original, despite not having had any of the character experience to bring it there.

Project A-ko feels like a blank fifty minutes. There are a few surprise cameos by characters from Wings of Honneamise and a few other projects, but there are no real visual gags, A-ko, B-ko and C-ko don't actually get to do anything. Mari sadly gets no dialogue, which was what made her a complete character originally, and D and the Captain wear dresses, which just isn't funny.
Also, there's no American eighties pop soundtrack. On the plus side, the ED song is pretty good and has some creditable English rhymes ("Baby, feel my inspiration/and baby, take my invitation")

It's hard to criticise something that's neither fun or painful. Project A-ko 2 is an unworthy successor to the measured insanity of the original. Director Moriyama took the interestingly crumpled shirt of Project A-ko and ironed it.
Final analogy: It's like someone took the Shroud of Turin and decided to clean it up. Project A-ko 2 isn't bland simply by comparison to its predecessor; it's just bland in general.

I Dream of Mimi (Buttobi CPU)

I Dream of Mimi, originally known as Buttobi CPU, is ecchi comedy. But it's not hentai! You can tell because it has a name cast and an OP. Although it was animated by Pink Pineapple, which is some sort of hentai studio. It's like a ninety minute exercise in ambiguousity.

Basically, this anime is about a student who buys a computer - but instead of a hard drive and monitor he gets a naked woman! Naturally, he curses his bad luck. When the computer starts to fellate him in order to register itself, he starts crying. When he discovers that to keep it at optimum performance, the computer must be "serviced" every three days, he's more than a little concerned. So this guy, Akira, is the classic anime character who fears women and has a girl who has secretly loved him for as long as she can remember. It's unclear how he comes to know the computer as "Mimi", but that becomes her name. Go with it.

What would otherwise be fairly standard romance comedy fare is kicked up by the erotically charged nerd atmosphere. Creatively (and perversely) placed expansion slots? Virii that make girls giggly and uninhibited? American computers that store 1000 terabytes of memory in their enormous breasts? It's all here. Each episode is slightly different. The first is the one in which Akira meets Mimi and recoils in horror when he realises that he has to have sex with his computer. The second is the one in which Mimi must register her details as a Columbian exchange student online, dealing with the government protection agencies and fighting off the evil American Nacintosh sisters. The third is about the truly evil of the sisters, the ultra evil Nacintosh Performa who can't even see the use of old computers.
There's apparently some morals in here somewhere. Just because you have to have sex with your computer to keep her working doesn't mean you can abuse her - because after all, computers are people too! Or something. I don't know. The reason that all of the computer women like Akira is because he's not a bastard like so many of their "masters". He's actually fairly well adjusted, because he thinks that sharing bodily fluids with computers is a bit icky, and he doesn't believe in master/slave relationships.

There's not really a lot to be said about this: the character designs are cute most of the time, if a little misshapen, the OP song is by turns catchy and annoying as all get out and the vocal cast is actually quite high profile. Konishi Hiroko turns in another of her tragically cute performances as Shimada and Mitsuishi Kotono speaks hilariously bad Japanese as the Quadra Nacintosh sister. The themes of "ownership" and "individuality" lurk in the background, but this isn't serious enough to really cover the abused computer situation in any depth. Although it's anime about intercourse with computer women, it's not in anyway graphic. Nothing beyond nipples are shown, and overall it's less than you're likely to see from titles such as Aika or Golden Boy.

I Dream of Mimi is light and funny anime about computers built by the crude (as opposed to crudely built). It's fun, but there's always going to be something creepy about pro(gram)creating with computers. This could be conveyed as an alternate lifestyle, and ends with one of the most literal examples of "harem" anime ever produced. Recommended for folks who have great interest in their own CPUs - even boasting laughs for Mac lovers and haters alike.

Don't Leave Me Alone, Daisy - episodes 11 and 12

Amazingly, by the end of this 12 episode run, literally everyone in the world except Techno learned a valuable lesson. Marvellous! Social reform for everyone but the one who needs it the most! One of the hardest things to understand about Don't Leave Me Alone, Daisy was that it was actually created by a woman.

The eleventh episode somehow managed to pass without any offensive scenes, a small miracle. This episode centred on Anii, the blue-lipped cyborg designed to keep Techno in check who I hadn't mentioned before because her role had previously been inconsequential, and stupid. This time, with the introduction of war and the feelings of Techno's well meaning but poorly executed Grandfather, some good scenes are allowed to happen. Post war paranoia definitely fuelled the actions of Techno's Grandfather, and the wartime scenes were very well done. The effects of war also led to the creation of the Yamakawa family: the ultra-nationalists and the alienated "rebel" X are very much the products of an outdated system. The mentality of the forties definitely damaged everyone here, and this allows Don't Leave Me Alone, Daisy to have a sideline in "anti-war sentiment" that ultimately leads to the nuclear disarmament of the planet.

The problem is not that Hitomi started to feel for Techno - in her dreams he was always a well adjusted young man, so she only committed the "sin" of hope - but that Techno couldn't see the error of his ways ever. Even when he changes direction, he still believes that Hitomi is an alien, that her name should be Daisy ... the fact that she starts to go along with him just means he doesn't have to be as forceful. In effect, Hitomi ends up encouraging his character defects. These are not simply eccentricities, and should never be considered as such.
The part of the series that should be most powerful seems to mean nothing to the stupid boy, despite revolutionising the rest of the world. His backwards thinking is very, very dangerous. Turning destructive power into creative means nothing if your mentality remains the same, so it feels like Techno has achieved nothing as a character. This is a major source of frustration.

Don't Leave Me Alone, Daisy was an occasionally sickening account of the complexities of society. It can not really be considered "entertainment". The best that can be said for it is that it's not a von Trier film: there is humanity here, and that is when it shines. Techno is putting his skills to better use by the end, but he still doesn't understand the fundamentals and it doesn't seem that he will; such an unshakeable character is what made this series hard to watch.

Don't Leave Me Alone, Daisy - episodes 5 to 10

There is no way that one can take Don’t Leave Me Alone, Daisy on face value and escape with their sanity intact. Digging beneath the surface for societal woes makes the whole tawdry exercise a much easier experience because it’s hard to laugh at so many of these situations.
For each step that Hitomi and Techno take in the right direction, they follow them by falling down holes and becoming mired once more in the pits of unacceptable behaviour.

Domination is something that is received differently by different people, but most will think that forcing someone to do something against their will is not cool. So Techno putting bubbles on Hitomi's arms and legs and then getting her to dance in the streets, drink a tropical juice with him, and then preventing her from telling the police about her predicament - a clear sign that he now knows what he's doing is wrong - is simply not fun to watch at all, no matter what anyone tells you. Mainstream (that is, non-hentai) anime is at its worst when it's being fetishistic and this situation, and the time when Techno actually leashed Hitomi, does not belong on television, no matter how late at night it was.

Hitomi had mostly been a character not willing to put up with Techno's rubbish, but amazingly she starts to develop feelings for him. It's what's known in James Bond films as "Stockholm Syndrome", and to some poor misguided souls as "Romantic Inevitability". The good thing that can be said for Hitomi here is that she doesn't like Techno for what he is. She likes him for what he could be ... which leads into one of the series' few thematic strengths.
In Siberia, Techno's idea of a skiing date spot, the characters meet a scientist who has lived by himself in a facility for fifty years. He speaks Japanese, inexplicably (he actually does explain it, but it makes no sense - hence the comedy). He doesn't realise that he's fifty five years old, and still thinks of himself as having that five year old body. Here Hitomi can see the long term effects of isolation, and Techno is infuriated and can't quite place his finger on why.
The exact lesson learned is that it would not benefit Techno to be sent back to his shelter, because otherwise he'll stay seriously messed up and get even worse. To become worse than Techno already is doesn't bear imagining - he's really a moron.

The only time Techno seems sympathetic at all is when he travels back to 1985 and meets his five year old self. For once he acknowledges the sadness of his existence, even yelling truths at his childish apparition. It's really sad that Techno's grandfather wants so much for Techno to be a good part of society, but did so poorly at it. Locking a child away doesn't let them learn and grow socially, and therefore solves nothing.

Basically, Don't Leave Me Alone, Daisy survives on its merits as a look at the sort of society that can produce freakish offshoots like Techno and meek, half submissive women like Hitomi and her unsupportive friends. It turns out to be a great examination of loneliness, but for once it could be a bit more preachy - because Techno can't see the consequences of his actions. He's going to end up with Hitomi, that's probably for sure: but without being able to see his mistakes, will he really have learned? Will he not repeat the past, will he change at all, if he can't accept the truth of life?
In the last two episodes, Techno had better at least begin to become human, or this series will really have been quite infuriating. Although, of course, Yamakawa X is still gold.

Don't Leave Me Alone, Daisy - episodes 1 to 4

Don't Leave Me Alone, Daisy is probably the weirdest thing ever made, based on a decidedly amoral idea.
Techno, a boy who lives in a nuclear bunker, one day spies a young maiden on his lawn. The images relayed by his camera system raise his adrenaline levels and tell him that he is experiencing love for the first time. After three months practise with a robot, he goes to school, christens the girl 'Daisy' despite her name being Hitomi, and declares that she belongs to him.

It's not just the idea that a woman can belong to a man. That's outmoded as it is, but it's not as blatantly wrong as:

Techno trying to coat Hitomi in formaldehyde to preserve her from the dangers of the world - coincidentally killing her (first episode).

Techno threatening to drop Hitomi from one hundred feet if she refuses to eat lunch with him (second episode).

On these two episodes alone, it's a wonder that Don't Leave Me Alone, Daisy had an audience left to watch it.
Fortunately, after these outings, Techno softens just a little bit, making vague attempts to understand Daisy, and Hitomi making valiant efforts not to get herself killed.
Come episode four the viewer, if not Hitomi, can start to see something in Techno that made him what he is. He has no parents, and believes in 'just the two of us': firstly his grandfather, and then himself and Daisy. His grandfather wants to integrate him into society, while having raised the young boy to anticipate the apocalypse. It explains where Techno's coming from, but it doesn't excuse what he does. However, something breaks inside of Hitomi and the audience when they come to understand the desperate feelings of loneliness.

Don't Leave Me Alone, Daisy isn't really offensive so much as it is just wrong, but there's some aspects about it that allow one to watch without turning off in complete disgust. Firstly, it doesn't play stalking too much for laughs, as the producers probably realise that one of society's worst nightmares is being captured by their stalker - so it has other things to lighten the mood. Miss Rarako, the swimsuit donning teacher who panics about appropriateness, is generally hilarious and the one source of fan service.
The actual comedy comes from Yamakawa X, the self proclaimed outcast of Japanese society (who is actually much more popular than he realises). He's so down that he even lets Techno pick on him. His rebel without a cause routine is funny by itself, but is boosted by his family. His mother and brother are ashamed of him, because he used to be such a good boy. When Yamakawa runs off after being trapped in a monster suit, his mother cries "I just hope he doesn't go crazy and destroys Tokyo Tower!" His brother's response is gold, and worthy of meriting a bracketed exclamation mark, like so - (!).

Don't Leave Me Alone, Daisy is a late night production from the team behind Haunted Junction, and they have that nice late night feel to them (although most modern licenced anime is broadcast late at night), but this is significantly different. With the addition of a couple of surprisingly high profile names amongst the general assortment of first timers, it's okay to listen to, and the OP is genuinely creative. It might be difficult to to get past the definitely disturbing subject matter, but despite itself it can boast a certain charm.
Still, one suspects that these DVDs are out of print for a reason.
It might be wrong on a base level, but at least it doesn't make stalking seem too acceptable a pastime.

Record of Lodoss War: Chronicles of the Heroic Knight - episodes 18 to 27

It's interesting that Chronicles of the Heroic Knight flowed so well, from situation to situation without a hiccup. Nothing was too protracted at first to make things contracted towards the end, so there was a nice balance all around. And room enough for some super deformed adventures on the way.

Of these episodes, there's one off model that goes for some more comedy than usual, and looks incredibly weird in places. It makes up for itself with its ending, but it felt out of place.
The important parts here were Spark's sense of duty to Neese. It was implied that there was a love between the two of them, and while that may be true of Neese, it's better to think that Spark cared very deeply for her welfare. Names are very important in this series, and the two brought each other back from the brink with them more than once; Neese said that she wanted to be of help as well, and she was. Although she was sometimes quiet, she was less than submissive.
Ashram came back again and did his noble thing, showing that he wasn't really evil. It's worth noting that right here, the continuity for Legend of Crystania is established - making that whole OVA spin off make sense. However, it was made before this series. What was once mostly accessible to people familiar with the books is now completely available to everyone. In the end Ashram was probably the most moral and natural leader of all of the characters. He left on a very good note, but knowing his fate he's really better off where he was.
Pirotess unfortunately didn't get to do much, but one can't really complain.
The Grey Witch Karla material was good, particularly Leylia's confrontation with her, although one wonders just what happened to Woodchuck.

Welcome to Lodoss Island! also exploded with even Wagnard, potential King of the Dead, playing his part in a cookie competition. Kashue made a cameo for a brief pun, but it just wasn't like the old days. Still, fun was had all around.

Record of Lodoss War: Chronicles of the Heroic Knight was full of charisma, and easily the best Lodoss animated property. It could probably have benefitted from more swords and less religion, but as it was, it was enjoyable.

Miyazaki Showcase: Spirited Away

Spirited Away is possibly Miyazaki Hayao's most well known film, and is arguably the most widely recognised anime (that is, recognised as being anime). It's a subtle work and much gentler than his previous hit, Princess Mononoke. As with that film before it, it was Japan's greatest box office success until being surpassed by an American blockbuster phenomenon (Princess Mononoke being surpassed by Titanic, Spirited Away by The Matrix Reloaded).

At the beginning of Spirited Away, young girl Chihiro is reluctantly moving to a new town with her parents. They get lost along the way, clearly having bought the house sight unseen. Stopping at a roadside guardian, they follow a tunnel until they come to an expanse of grassy fields. They keep on walking until they find a deserted town - and a store full of food. Seeing that it is unattended, they start eating. Chihiro feels that this is not right, and chooses not to partake. She looks about the town, and when she comes back she finds that her parents have been turned into pigs. Chihiro seeks employment with Yubaba, the witch who runs the place as a resort for the gods. If she can work off her contract, then her parents will be free once more.

Spirited Away is one of Miyazaki's most epic work on a personal scale. Not the intense personality of Porco Rosso, but full of major growth and depth. Chihiro is what makes the film, because there's no real narrative to speak of. In fact, for the duration there's barely any cuts at all. It feels almost like a free flowing film that follows Chihiro from start to finish. The biggest surprise is that only about three or four days pass during the entire film: Chihiro comes so far, and so much happens, but to watch it all it passes in only a few calculable moments. Not many notice, but Miyazaki's films are epic on a small scale: this was Princess Mononoke's chief weakness, but Spirited Away's chief strength.
Chihiro is a very different girl between start and finish: at first she has no courage or will beyond feeling "hard done by", as only ten year old girls can feel. She realises that in order to get her parents back, she must become herself. It's a strong message, and Chihiro becomes incredibly strong herself.

Miyazaki has some messages; but they're not overpoweringly strong. None of the contempt that he could be accused of having for various aspects of modern culture comes through, other than the obvious and outlandish behaviour of Chihiro's parents at the beginning. The clearest thing is the environmental streak, but for once the movie isn't about that. It's matter of fact, shown and gone. Miyazaki knows what is important; it's not any message about society at large, but about one person's change.

Miyazaki's design aesthetic runs rampant here: he gets to design his own world that draws on Japanese culture. It could be argued that indeed all of his films draw on Japanese culture for imagery and inspiration (a very flawed argument, the more you consider it), but Spirited Away is heavy on tradition.
The music is some of Hisaishi Joe's best, and Kimura Yumi's ending song "Always with Me" is a beautiful example of the music residing in the voice.

Spirited Away is one of Miyazaki's finest, and is quite different from his other films: something that makes it at once his most and least popular work. As something to send him to international fame (that is, American fame), it fares much better than the mishandled Princess Mononoke release. Spirited Away is a deceptively simple film; the simple frame work allows Miyazaki to weave complex characters, thus creating an excellent film.

Record of Lodoss War: Chronicles of the Heroic Knight - episodes 10 to 17

Now that ten years have passed, things are significantly different in Lodoss.

The quest for the Soul Crystal Ball has begun, and with it a new party of heroes has formed. The dearth of Parn, Deedlit and Kashue hits at first, but one soon becomes comfortable with the entirely new cast of characters.

The most interesting of these new characters is without doubt Ryna, the pink haired thief. In the OP and all of the promo materials her hair is pure white, which is either a stern warning of things to come or a conscious change when it was realised that pink is much more attractive.
In fantasy lands, thieves have honour, and so too does Ryna - in addition to sex appeal! Which means that she winks at men a lot. Her motivation is revenge, which is always a good pursuit, and her relationship with mercenary Garrack is nothing short of intriguing.
It's also something unfamiliar to see a Dwarfish Priest. Perhaps they exist, but they're more of an underground mining species in my mind. But at least he worships a cool god - Myrii, god of war!

Fortunately, Parn and Deedlit are not gone altogether and come back when the series would have flagged had they not. Parn has risen notably in the world, leading a free army of people who fight for what they (apparently meaning Parn) feel is right. The questions of tyranny raised in these scenes around Alania are quite interesting, particularly because of the source of the speculation.
The most questionable aspect of the entire series is that Parn and Deedlit have been travelling together for sixteen years and have still not thought of romance further than holding hands for support.

Where this 'ten years after' approach suffers the most initially is the Welcome to Lodoss Island! segment, which change from topical skits to an ongoing narrative. Spark and Neese are the heroes (along with Dragon-kun), delivering cookies to Mama Dragon while preventing "The Dark Elf with a sweet tooth" from stealing them. It's funny, but not as spontaneous. Again, the situation improves with the return of Parn and Deed, then becomes truly hilarious with the inclusion of Ashram of all characters, who can pun with the best of them. Memorably, he promises to conquer Lodoss with his "delectable sweets". I can only hope to see his plan come to fruition.

On the production side, it's disappointing that all of the Dark Elves are identical. Sakamoto Maaya makes a welcome appearance as Half Elf Leaf and it shames me to say it, but Hayami Sho's way of saying "Pirotess" is incredibly sexy.

Lodoss is big on story, and is branching off further and further, but it's not overly complicated. Well worth it, so far.

Aika

In 1997, Aika set the standard for fan service in anime. Sadly enough, today it seems pretty tame.

In a post apocalyptic world where most of the planet has been submerged in water (up to the observation deck of Tokyo Tower), Salvagers make a living by retrieving valuable information from the wreckage. The focus of this seven part OVA (two series) is Sumeragi Aika, a salvager with a sentient bustier that increases her power manifold. She's contracted by a government agency to uncover the mysterious substance known only as "Lagu". Aika is soon captured by people after the same substance - the incestuous siblings Nena & Hargen (named, of course, for the singer of 99 Luftballoons).
Aika's new mission is to stop Nena from killing her in a jealous rage and to avoid being inducted into Hargen's harem. Also from wiping out the human race and solely fathering the new humanity, but that's marginally less important.
The follow up three episode series is a bizarre revenge comedy about nothing in particular, other than the inclusion of significantly more lesbians.

Is Aika a silly, quasi-biblical panty raiding anime? Is it the single greatest piece of speculative fiction ever animated? Could it perhaps be both? There is no way that the world can ever be certain.

The story itself is fairly interesting, and would stand alone quite well. What this anime is known for, however, is the fan service. Initially, the panty shots are simply incidental. Then come the character developing "punishment" scenes, and the incest, and the fake seductions. Director Nishijima chose not to isolate these scenes as the sole examples of 'sensuality', offering not a few peeks at panties, but devoting almost one hundred per cent of screen time to the celebrated undergarments. There is no escape.
By its brazenness, and its inability to actually mention itself, this fan service somehow works. Once the shock wears off, it's all taken as a matter of course. It would truly be sad to allow oneself to become desensitised to panties. Marvelling at the physical impossibility and creativity of it all might help to ease the mind.

The characterisation is sharp, as it would have to be under such circumstances. Aika is a no nonsense woman, probably the most skilled in her field and quite a few others, yet she chooses to work out of a trailer. Rion is the funniest of the characters, because she is the one who questions the logic of Hargen's plans and resorts to logical insulting questions that no one else would think to ask. She's also the most put upon character and as a result gets to pull the funniest faces. Her father Gozo is the caring man, who in the second series is revealed to have a passion for karaoke.
The villains are suitably villainous, with "insane" being the key. They don't act without reason, but they are definitely off kilter. The way that their situation resolves itself is actually quite compelling and disturbing.

The second series' new characters are lesbians, which seems quite contrary to the plot of the first, and there's a new person working on Aika's salvager team. His name is Michikusa, he has a Kappa doll, and he dances from time to time. He also has a penchant for wearing the Delmo's uniforms. Other than being voiced by the ubiquitous Masaya Onosaka, there's not much else to him.

Naturally, Aika thrives on its design aesthetic. Moriyama Yuji's designs, and director Nishijima Katsuhiko's very distinct visual style, make it a joy to watch. Everyone is beautiful, and for once I will even let the uniform fetishism slide because it was actually pretty attractive. Of course, Hargen is an effeminate, cold and disturbing man, so he's never nice to look at. But he doesn't have to be.
Surprisingly, it's not all blatant: Nishijima pulled off some subtle scenes among the panties. The most notable example is Hargen's attempts to kiss Aika. In traditional anime, a man will force himself onto a woman, and her body will relax and her eyes close. Aika refuses to relent. Her body stays stiff and her eyes remain open; something that might be missed, but a sure sign she will not be dominated. Nishijima was also capable of wringing drama out of Rion digging through rubble in a short skirt, so clearly he can do anything.

Voice acting is strong, as it draws largely on the acting pool of the late eighties. The timeless Sakuma Rei is a firm yet 'sexy' Aika, and Ohtsuka Akio is allowed to have fun for once. Konishi Hiroko's Rion is marvellous, but every one of her performances is a heartbreaker. One of the biggest shames in voice acting in the last few years is Konishi's having been edged out of the industry. Her nearest contemporary seiyuu is Horie Yui, who actually replaced Konishi in some continued properties.

Also included is a secret "transition", moving trial. The OP and ED for this three part trial are longer than the actual body, but it's very low key comedy. And, on that omake note, Emotion is without doubt the best presented of all anime production houses.

Aika isn't anime for everyone. The panty overload may well be a huge turn off for many, but beyond that it's fun, dangerous anime that calls a spade a spade, and calls incest "super villainy". A true triumph of the (animated female) form.

Record of Lodoss War: Chronicles of the Heroic Knight - episodes 6 to 9

Emotions and lava abound in this set of episodes, which end up jumping ahead ten years: a time where everyone is either much older or deader.

Orson gets many good scenes here, and the tragedy of his existence is played up. The ambiguous feelings of Shiris about him emphasise this greatly. Their last scenes (at least for now) in episode eight were very harsh and touching. Who is to blame for what? Hayama Nobuyuki's performance as Orson was impressive, keeping himself in check until the very few times he was allowed to show a burst of emotion. That's all over now.
The other important scenes were those between Kashue and Ashram, kings of their respective countries. Ashram's party had no allegiances to each other, so it was ironic that the only person who really supported him was actually from Kashue's kingdom. Kashue defends his own honour, which poses the great heroic question: is breaking the rules of warfare dishonourable if it puts an end to the battles? These questions are important to the running of countries and diplomacy.
Ending this arc where they did was a wise decision but it raises another, not philosophical, question: will there be Pirotess?

Then ten years pass. Characters introduced in the first couple of episodes have grown and are now able to become major characters. Spark and Little Neese seem to be at the fore here, with Parn looking much older and Deedlit looking a little wiser. It's unclear where they're going to go or what they're going to do, but they have some sort of promise. Realising that these characters have been in the OP all along makes the whole thing a lot more exciting.

Finally, Welcome to Lodoss Island goes from strength to strength: Seeing Orson invested with childish emotions, asking Shiris for milk ("I didn't think it would work"), and the continued caperings of Kashue and Parn are well worth it. It's just a pity that the progression of ten years isn't represented in these segments.

Chronicles of the Heroic Knight is much easier to become absorbed by with its compelling story and especially its music. These were very, very early DVDs, however, and they look it.