Love Hina - episodes 1 to 4

Warning: Extreme negativity ahead.

This might have come as a shock had I said it four years ago: I don't like Love Hina. Putting aside the excellent, attractive and hilarious manga, this is not good anime. For me, just as it was all those years ago, the Love Hina anime is the beginning of the end of everything.

Perpetual loser Keitaro made a promise to a girl when he was four years old: that they would, once grown, attend Tokyo University together. Problem is he's not smart enough to make the grade and is now a ronin training at a cram school. Kicked out by his parents, he goes to live at his Grandmother's inn - not realising both that his aunt has left him in charge and that it is, in fact, a girls' dormitory.
Let the beatings commence!
The girls who live in the dorm don't take kindly to Keitaro's presence and try to force him out, but for some reason they all love him too. Watch Keitaro as he struggles to study hard enough to get into Tokyo University, maintain a lodge and find the girl to whom he made that promise all those years ago.

This anime does not make a lot of sense. Lies upon lies are built and then, even if unintentional, when found out violence ensues. Keitaro trips over, and violence ensues. The first three episodes are reserved for annoying character introductions. It makes more sense for the Hinata Lodge to be already established as a fully functioning unit rather than recruiting its members as it goes along. It's harder to imagine a more hostile group of people than the woman populating the lodge. The only one who actually likes Keitaro without hurting him is as meek as all get out.
The second episode for whatever reason attempts hard hitting drama about the politics of divorce and the place of the child within. It's quite painful to watch, particularly with the whole "running away" aspect, and the typical portrayal of "cruel girls".

Love Hina is a great example of ugly digital animation; this is not, of course, helped by the fact that it is ugly in the first place. Uno Makoto's character designs are, not to put too fine a point on it, hideous. The characters boast a sort of "fat" look to their faces and there's something a bit off shape about them all. They look pasted on top of their backgrounds, and the fan service looks unnatural. Shinobu in profile boasts a head rather too large for her body.
Is anime the only place in the world where people go bathing in towels? It would seem very uncomfortable to do so.
There's just something artificial about the whole look that makes one ill at ease. Occasionally the animation is so bad that characters reach for entirely the wrong things.

The direction is incredibly weird, with cuts of "WHAT?!" followed immediately by the same character saying "whatever". The four episodes even feature their own sort of thematic gimmick - the first being laced with fantasy, the second with some horrible, horrible symbolism pertaining to "direction" (ironic, that), the third features an initially well scored "silent film" sequence, which has misjudged artificing and starts to drag. The fourth has a "diary" storytelling method. Each episode probably wants to set itself apart, but it comes across as gimmickry. The dialogue when each episode comes to its realisation also feels quite forced.
The problem with all of this violence is that it doesn't feel deserved. Keitaro is clumsy and frequently stumbles into the wrong situations, but that does not seem to be justification enough to beat him up. It's not like he's one of those anime protagonists who actively caresses the female characters or tries to peek up their dresses. Exaggerated violence isn't funny if there's no justification to it. Is there any real way that Keitaro can fall in love with someone who attempts to kill him at, literally, the drop of a hat?

Horie Yui was rocketed to stardom for her role as Narusegawa, but she's done much better out of nicer characters who aren't as shrewish. Naru wants to be nice, but she defaults to violence at the slightest provocation. She can't go a few seconds without giving Keitaro some sort of injury. Horie tries to make the most of it, but she's been given too much of an extreme to feel any real empathy at this point.
Ueda Yuji, who usually plays toughs or general nice guys, is incredibly weedy and weak as Keitaro. Again, this isn't his fault. He plays it as it is written - is it his fault that it's written wrong? Keitaro has no sense of anything and his adherence to the promise made fifteen years ago seems that he hasn't allowed himself to grow since then. His automatic reaction to everything is to run away.
Right now none of the other characters have done much yet, but Shinobu's weak nature doesn't show much room for change, Kaolla is a blow-through and Motoko's sword-happy nature is grating - even more so than Naru's own, and that's saying something.
At this point it's difficult to see how any of these characters' anime incarnations grew such fan followings. Hayashibara Megumi's Aunt Haruka is the program's highlight, but she's underused - which is probably a good thing, as it turns out.

The music is awful computer generated stuff that pierces the brain. The OP and ED are both sung by Hayashibara Megumi and are easily the greatest part of the program - the problem being that they're actually pretty poor edits of good songs.

There's nothing wrong with Love Hina's premise: it's been done, and done well, elsewhere (not naming any names, but the Love Hina manga is one such place ...). Here it's gimmicky, ugly and annoying. Yet I'm going to watch it through to the end - and even then, there's not going to be a resolution.

City Hunter - episodes 45 to 51

Despite featuring one of the most pointless episodes in City Hunter history, there is also a grand return to and above form. The seedy side shows itself at the end; the bloody justice necessary for such a job as Ryo's shines. Also Ryo gets some of the best damn service out of Saeko that is humanly possible. Because really, when it all comes down to it, it's not about death and rough justice; it's about the mokkori.

There are two poor endings amongst the lot: the snow episode just stops, the pickpocket episode ends based on unrevealed information. The mokkori endings, however, are frequently hilarious. Mokkori, you see, has a miraculous restorative power. It is a power that can make women from pool sharks to nuns see the truth of their vocations.
The heroines are beginning to see right through Ryo, to the point that they are beginning the divine punishment themselves. Most clients are naïve, but put a pool cue in one of their hands and she'll dish out all that Ryo can take.

There's an episode about a widow, which brings up rare mention of good old Makimura. Kaori is a good example of mourning; not a day goes by when she doesn't remember her dear brother, but she barely ever feels the need to mention him. Ryo feels that it is important not to forget someone, but that it is unhealthy to let your memories consume you. We not only learn that, but also that combining Ryo with traps is a surefire recipe for hilarity. Saeko has a tab, and she finally uses her trademark knives.
The pool episode, when Ryo goes off to look for topless women, reminds one of the days when City Hunter did feature the topless on occasion. The third to last episode is a totally pointless exercise about a nun who gets drunk and loses her rosary. It has the memorable line "It is not my place to judge, Kaori, but men should not wear miniskirts", but not much else. There's something inherently wrong about Ryo hitting on a nun, and also with the background menu offering "Potato Cola". It was clearly an off week in preparation for the two part series finale, the best episodes of City Hunter yet.

The imagery that kicks off the final two episodes is excellent. The idea of Ryo as Makimura is the right way to look at things. Kaori takes it a bit farther than this, actually admitting jealousy. The line "I can be a beautiful woman, too" shows this. Ryo's problem is that out of respect for Makimura he can't let anything happen between himself and Kaori. It would just be too weird, as well.
The Lodos Mafia are the bad guys that Ryo is set against by the Nogami sisters. As it turns out, Makimura had been on their tail. Making Makimura a cop was a good idea because Saeko can bring unsolved cases to Ryo and spice some revenge into the deal. The Lodos Mafia look like they'll be back sometime later, but without one of their bosses (who looked exactly like the villain of Thunderball).
The episodes were great, not so much on a humour level as on a character and drama level; also to see Kaori in a tuxedo being chased by women. To see Ryo revert to his hardened self from before he met Kaori in order to save her was truly worthwhile. Ryo is by no means some "hitokiri battousai" or "Vash the Stampede". He chooses to operate in a world where people get killed. That he starts shooting without consciously trying not to kill was refreshing. Also, Umibozu pulled one of his flawless serious performances.

Even more bizarre than the M&M's Airplane is the ship owned by the Lodos Mafia, christened "Ys Falcom". It would be really interesting to know if this placement was actually paid for or if the animators just thought it would be fun. Maybe Falcom said "Hey, could you associate our game with drug smugglers in some way: perhaps a huge boat?"? It's possible.

Kamiya Akira's performance as Ryo has reached the point where it sounds out of place for him to make a smooth come on towards a woman. He's gone straight for the "Mokkori!" attack for so long now it is hard to even imagine him being reserved in his actions. Ikura Kazue's Kaori is so defined that she is able to do a spot on Ryo imitation. The two are really all about playing off each other, so this is a good thing.

City Hunter was a fine mokkori adventure with perhaps too few visits to the bloody side of being a sweeper. After this series, there's still much more to go. The final two episodes were the best cap you could ask for to the series, standing as two of the most well conceived, well balanced episodes of all - and not just about the mokkori. At the risk of openly contradicting myself within the space of one article, sometimes it's all about death and rough justice; not about the mokkori.

City Hunter - episodes 37 to 44

City Hunter is not only the home of some happy mokkori and good two parters, it is also the home of M & M's. In this group of episodes there at least seven viewings of the branding, from Kaori's grocery bag, to a truck, to Ryo's toaster. His toaster, dangit!

The first two parter out of this set was about one of those old style, kimono wearing, yakuza warrior women. The scene where she goes to exact her revenge was poetic in its execution, and practically cried out for blood on the snow. City Hunter's weakest aspect is at its most obvious here: there is no sense of justice because, since Kaori came on to the scene, no one has been killed by Ryo. He lives in a section outside of the law where the only real way to teach a criminal is to kill him. It's not even as if he's taken an oath or anything, it's just sanitisation. Sometimes people whom Ryo has failed to put down have come back to get him in the same episode.
Consider that many criminals spend their time inside planning their next crime - consider that many are back in almost before they're out. Ryo's "stern admonition" approach to dealing with the underworld's ne'er do wells is highly ineffective.
This episode also highlights that sometimes it would be better if the hero or heroine could succeed without Ryo's intervention. It would be that much more effective if it could happen with just Ryo's guidance, not Ryo's "shooting direct into the barrel of the other guy's gun, thus making it explode" trick, which frankly wasn't that impressive all the other times.

The rest of the episodes had some great moments, including Ryo's way of showing up a gang of punk women (threatening to tell everyone in town the colour of their panties). Ryo is not only taken as a "baby-sitter", but sometimes as a vicarious boyfriend. These women, who invariably have not yet had a taste of the real world, for some reason look to this man as the ideal model of masculinity. On that note, only my mind could think that a woman could be cured of a grandfather-con by replacing it with shota-con.

The best episodes are always those which display the care and trust that Kaori and Ryo have for one another. That Ryo can make fun of Kaori while she's wielding a rocket launcher is proof that they are the best of friends. Their relationship is questionable though, because Kaori is always worrying about their lack of work. Is it due to lost credibility from Ryo going so soft? Somehow even the kids on the street know about City Hunter and play at being him; at least he's not instantly recognisable, which is a small mercy.
It's hoped that as the series progresses, Ryo will gain credibility, because he can't stay as he is. The OVAs look more like the serious side of City Hunter (or, depending on who you ask, the more creatively bankrupt).

Unsurprisingly, the specifically best episodes of this set were the two parter wherein justice was served. This episode tackled important questions such as "is it corruption if it's for a noble cause?" and "how do you fight corruption at the highest level?". This episode not only featured the major criminal getting what was coming to him, but also featured him killing one of his subordinates. I'll bring it up again, but the writers seem to think that killing someone is dehumanising. They have a point, but Ryo is too "human" for the profession. Softening is not good. The episode also does quite a job of answering its own improbabilities, which is something too infrequently dealt with all along the board. It also featured one of the best ending lines ever.

Ryo also works on his brilliant non-sequiturs: when everyone looks on him after he makes a mokkori move, he changes tact with "I say, waiter, what do you make of the latest developments in the Persian Gulf?" His abilities as "the man" are beyond doubt as he somehow manages to remove a bra without touching a woman.
Surprisingly for a program seventeen years old, only one thing seems out of date - the cultural reference to tanka: short poems. It just didn't seem to mean anything. It might still be in Japan, but it's not something that really has much cross over appeal and it seemed odd to base an episode around it in part. On the other hand, scissors paper rock baseball (featured in the same episode) is always fun, as is the smooth manner of Hayami Sho.

There was some great animation and design in the episode about the moon princess but, as always with City Hunter, this show is from a time when long shots weren't very good. Anything that's not a close up is low on detail and not that interesting. That's not to say that the whole thing is ugly - such shots are generally avoided - but it's not pleasant to watch those particular scenes.

City Hunter is undoubtedly enjoyable, but still feels like it needs more bite. Despite its seemingly high amount of fan service for the era, the violence seems less than was acceptable for the day. Not to say violence is cool, but it is necessary for the subject matter to mean something. Even though Ryo is the "good guy", he has to accept the way his world is. He can't tone it down on account of his partner who, coincidentally, has no problem with violence.

City Hunter - episodes 27 to 36

City Hunter comes back from the enforced mid season break (due to the architecture of ADV's release) with a brand new OP! At first it's something that is no match for "Don't go away, my love", but "Go Go Heaven" grows on a person after a while. Sometimes it is played as an insert song, so it becomes quite enjoyable. The elegance of the Saeko animation is wortwhile, too. On the other hand, the "Get Wild" ED tradition increasingly demonstrates its limitations, with every episode ending on a freeze and pan. Some of them aren't even interesting freezes or pans, but rather arbitrarily chosen shots of not much.

Easily the best thing about these episodes is the increased role of Umibozu, the best comedy sweeper since Saeba Ryo. Well, not that that's saying much, but he's damned funny. Umibozu can take shots from a standard gun without sweating, and he's the best booby trapper in Japan - but he's terrified of kittens. When you get a situation where Umibozu wants to protect a girl, and Ryo wants to get to that girl, you have one of the greatest situations for comedy ever posed by City Hunter. Umibozu, like Ryo, also knows when and how to play it straight, so he's a perfectly flexible character. It's a crime that he is not included in the new OP, while Saeko is. Seventeen years on the statute of limitations is likely to have expired, and anyway it's something that is likely to have been fixed in the ensuing 100 plus episodes.
The point is that Umibozu is a great character, from the time he falls in love (because despite being the hardest man in Japan, he blushes in the presence of a beautiful woman) to the time that he referees a death match between Ryo and the underworld's most famous assassin. He's the sort of character who, when it is discovered he will be featured in an episode, you can't help but cheer.

The variety of situations Ryo is placed in are still pretty fresh but, as Umibozu remarks, "Ryo has been reduced to the level of a babysitter"; a lot of the times he just looks after women. The episodes with danger in them are the best because otherwise Ryo shows nothing but his soft side. The aforementioned Ryo versus Michael Gallant was a very high point and brought Umibozu and Saeko together, which is something to see.
The other interesting episode out of this was the biker gang, which showed that City Hunter can play around with genre, something admirable in anime. The scenery in this episode in particular showed a different side of the world, and not the underworld Kaori is used to ... although the "overworld" with the rich young girl was a bit generic. The fight scenes were great, and there was an ejnoyable resolution to be found.

City Hunter is a lot of fun to watch, and benefits from its sudden inclusion of two-parters. However, due to its lack of an underpinning story and, let's face it, the hardboiled gunfights and brazen killings of the earlier episodes, it's not straight out compelling and very infrequently gives that adrenalin rush that it needs to provoke.

Project A-Ko 4

This is undoubtedly the best Project A-Ko since the first. What they appear to have done is taken Project A-Ko and turned it into a drama. That's right, a dramatic episode! Just what Moriyama was trying to do with his child is beyond me, but this entry works quite well - although, on closer examination, it might not actually make any sense.

Project A-ko 4 opens with a party of archaeologists digging in the ruins of Iraq (why Iraq is in ruins is anyone's guess, as this anime was made some time prior to the Gulf War) and discovering a tablet that prophesies the coming of an alien race to reclaim their Goddess. Their symbol is the Star of David - which of course raises the question "Jewish aliens?".
Coincidentally (or is it?!), Miss Ume - hard done by teacher of A-ko, B-ko and C-ko - wears a pendant around her neck that bears the very same Star of David (embellished with a heart in the middle). Further to this coincidence, an alien fleet is bearing down on Earth - their mother ship emblazoned with the Star of David!
These - of course, unrelated - events culminate in a story that involves Miss Ume's wedding to A-ko and B-ko's "true love", Kei, and C-ko's intense jealousy of all of A-ko's fun.
It doesn't take a lot of time to realise that in this case there isn't a whole lot of Judaism going on - this is anime, after all, and sometimes a symbol is just a symbol.

Project A-ko 4 isn't riotous, but it's well done. The archaeological dig scenes are presented in a mysterious fashion, the marriage interview is downright awkward, and its revealed that all of these characters actually have hearts. C-ko, world renowned for having the most piercing voice and no sense of what's happening around her, gets to show some depth. Her final scenes are actually, in some way, moving. A-ko and B-ko can actually cooperate when they see what is right, and really, everyone should be friends.
This also boasts the best animation out of the three followups.

So what Project A-ko boiled down to was the power of friendship. Nothing can match the original, but 4 was at least worth its while - with its unique atmosphere and interesting (and largely successful) attempts to lend depth to the characters. Moriyama was not attached to The Versus, so it still remains to be seen how that one went.

Tokyo Godfathers

If enough coincidences converge, you end up with a narrative. Tokyo Godfathers is the ultimate in miracle movies, based almost entirely on the momentum of random events and chance encounters. The energy and free flowing nature of the story make for a truly enjoyable film.

On Christmas Eve, three homeless people - a middle aged man, a disgraced transvestite, and a run away teenage girl - find a baby as they fossick in the trash. Caught between taking "Kiyoko" to the police, keeping her or finding her parents themselves, they embark on a frequently hilarious and sometimes touching Christmas/New Year adventure.

The three homeless represent all walks of life (well, three), and have their own reasons for not having homes - mixtures of pride, shame and fear. Gin, Hana and Miyuki make an unlikely family unit, but that's exactly what they are: a family. Again, they all have their own reasons for being in this group, and for taking in the baby rather than going straight to the police. Their choice to search for Kiyoko's parents leads to a series of increasingly unlikely events and further transvestites.
Kon's way of story telling lends itself very strongly to the art of spoiler, so to say exactly what the three get up to would take a lot of the fun out of the movie. The unexpected nature of everything and how it all fits is just one part of the joy. The huge amount of divine intervention is guaranteed to make anyone happy.

Kon Satoshi seems adamant that he's not going to make the same anime twice; three completely different films make up his present cinematic ouevre, not counting the projects that he did production work on. Kon has not embarked on this film with his previous writing partner, Murai Sadayuki, instead joining chief Cowboy Bebop scenario writer Nobumoto Keiko in creating this significantly different, yet still warm, movie.
It would be very easy to be annoyed by the way everything happens: the proximity of such totally unlikely events can wear down one's patience in the wrong frame of mind. Two things must be remembered: this is how movies work, and there is a greater power in force. Laughs, joy and a few tears are wrung out of this system which is smooth and shows no signs of contrivance.
The film isn't entirely unrealistic: some of the obvious harsh sides of being homeless are shown, and there would be no emotional impact if the characters didn't have some sort of reason for being on the streets. The action packed finale deals with what is actually a quite serious issue.

Tokyo Godfathers is neat, but not entirely so. There are a few threads, but everything is looking up come the final scene. Ultimately, it's a film designed to raise a few questions but to mainly make the viewer feel good (and not in the horrible "I'm glad I'm not homeless" way). Whatever it is that Kon set out to do, he succeeded. It's hard to pin this movie down as any one thing: it's the ultimate friendship movie, it's the quintessential holiday movie, it's a rollicking action comedy, it's a brief foray into the world of organised crime. It's really a little bit of everything, a beautiful whole.

Visually, Tokyo Godfathers is what you'd expect of Kon, while being nothing like his previous works in presentation. Gin and Hana have been on the streets for years and look rough, but Miyuki looks like her health hasn't failed her yet - she's just become a lot skinnier. The world isn't divided along the lines of the beautiful and the ugly, the rose and its thorns. Everything makes up a part of the world without seeming out of place or set to too high a contrast. On a couple of occasions the lines blur when things seem just that little bit more unreal - there is a character who lives in squalor in his own home who isn't taking any sort of realistic approach to life, so he doesn't appear like a real person for the time when he doesn't have himself together. It's a very short part of the film, but it's really quite noticeable.
The rest of the film is filled with nice, easy to miss visual gags and interesting cuts (although, of course, not the free flow editing of eras present in Millennium Actress). Kon's films are again not just interesting on a story level: they're really quite fun to watch - the faces that the Tokyo Godfathers pull are excellent evidence of this.

Come December, if there really is a place for the "Christmas Movie", Tokyo Godfathers needs to hit big (the decision to release it on December 29 2003 in the US was decidedly odd). This movie is filled with "Christmas spirit", a spirit that has nothing to do with either Jesus or commercialism. It is a perfect "season" movie, capturing the true essence of good will towards men (and women, and transvestites).

Chance Pop Session - Episodes 6 to 13

Chance Pop Session took a turn around episode seven. No longer content with being a look at people getting into the industry, it shed its single ambition and split into a highly, perhaps overly, dramatic story about characters and coincidence. The emphasis must be placed on coincidence because the series did indeed become very chancey. If the title didn't include the word "chance", then it would almost be unforgiveable.

The revelations start right from episode six; the three only just became a trio and already the chances start piling up. The biggest flaw with this is that those in question should really be more surprised; in fact, for so many different revelations to these characters, they take it all in their stride. There's enough variety that they can't be excused for being desensitized.
One of the biggest surprises is quite out of the ordinary for this series - that is, not "fate", or "destiny" guided it. It just happens, and actually quite believably so. The situation could have seemed contrived, but it was less so than it could have been. The rest of the secrets are on a scale of predictabilities that slowly builds into an avalanche of drama that has very little to do with song but quite a lot to do with character.
However, the trio of girls are surprisingly not the most developed characters. The duo of Reika and Kisaragi are the most interesting of all situations. The two are so like mother and daughter and their closeness is precisely why they hurt each other. They believe that they know best and so they attempt to grant independence. They're not like a manager and talent, they go beyond that. During the series Kisaragi and the girls don't get to reach that peak; they don't get to connect with many people rather than each other.
Nice other things include Otoki and Hikoza's attraction and the scenes with Nozomi's family - which are alternately infuriating, funny and sad. There's a slight tone of tragedy around the vaguely religious sheen of the series. As for the religion, it's not even very Christian as Akari has a small shrine to honour the dead in her bedroom next to a chapel.
All very interesting. Of note on the music front is that Nozomi suffers a 'wardrobe malfunction'.

The songs become more naturally integrated and also more varied. The trio really does come across as a group that gets along and would naturally perform together and maybe get hits. The presentation of most of their songs is interesting, although their flagship song is not all that it is hyped up to be: it's simply the OP inserted into the program. Ironically it makes it sound more manufactured than it already is; the overplaying makes it seem lacking in energy and the truly bizarre animation that accompanies their stage performances of this "Pure Blue" is a case for bewilderment; what's more is that for a group that is supposed to be about playing off each other, the song focuses on Akari's vocals (perhaps more accurately, Iizuka Mayumi) and detracts from the idea of R-3.
Still, the song production in general grows into a good mixture; "Love Forever" starts to pack an emotional punch, and it becomes clear just how clever Reika's song choice was.

It all started with a concert: a concert that would bond these women together for life. One Chance Pop Session, if you will, blossomed into this series of new and wonderful experiences for all involved. There are secrets, there are tragic pasts, and there are redemptions. The second half of this series was indeed different to the first, but definitely for the better.

Geobreeders Breakthrough

After the original action packed Geobreeders comes its sequel, Geobreeders Breakthrough (real name Geobreeders 2). Director Moriyama Yuji, perhaps one of Japan's greatest producers of "hits and misses" (being responsible for both the genius Project A-ko and its lacklustre sequels), said that because he had four episodes this time he wanted to make a more complex story. How he thought he had done this is beyond me - because he patently hasn't.

Geobreeders Breakthrough begins with the folks of Kagura Total Security moving into their new offices. Umezaki, the Crimson Shooting Star, is targeted for assassination and the office is almost instantly destroyed. After this, the now homeless company goes off to find the person who has hired them for their latest job.
Unfortunately their car is destroyed at the end of the first episode, and they spend the following three wandering in the jungles of Japan looking for civilisation. Meanwhile the Phantom Cats have some sort of evil agenda and the government agency Hound tries to destroy them. This leads to some action scenes but not a whole lot of sense as there is no sense of character and the main characters are just wandering around.

Moriyama Yuji has created an almost entirely directionless four episode OVA. This was designed to be set after the Geobreeders manga, so it has to make a little bit of sense. It doesn't have the shield of being based on a preexisting story to fill in the gaps. The main part with the phantom cats seemed like nothing more than a flimsy backdrop for having a few action scenes which, while well executed, would be much more enjoyable with some context behind them. The wandering lent itself to some good comedy, but no story. And three episodes' worth of it wore. It wore thin quite quickly, and some of the characters got fewer than a couple of lines and didn't get to do anything.
The villain, as far as I know, didn't have a name and government agent Irie was as infuriatingly smug and cryptic as he was in the first OVA.

The fan service is a little lacking; there's two brief onsen scenes and a seemingly inserted shot of Himehagi's seatbelt. It's just put in rather than thought out, and there's not a lot of it. This was animated towards the start of the digital revolution and as a result bears a lot of the soft focus look that anime produced around that time had. It can appear a bit painful to the eyes because of this, but the character designs are slightly better than that of the original production. The best example of what this series looks like is Excel Saga, which was produced by Victor at the same time and promoted in tandem. The animation is by no means bad, it's just fuzzy. There's some noticeable CG that isn't ugly but isn't particularly useful, the OP is the same as the first OVA (which, for some reason, seems unforgiveable), and the ED doesn't make much sense but refers to a great Japanese comedy act of days long past.

Geobreeders Breakthrough makes one wonder what the point was at the end; what, exactly, happened. It's not offensive to watch and it's not bland to the point of nothingness; it's simply a directionless adventure with a few moments. Not exactly recommended, but not consigned to the bonfire.

Chance Pop Session - Episodes 1 to 5

Chance Pop Session (AKA Chance Triangle Session) is sport anime. Except instead of sport, we're thrown into the bitchy, feel good, cut throat, exhilarating world of Japanese pop music! Everything, in the end, boils down to sport. The thing that I love about sport anime is the raw emotion and occasional over dramatics that go with it.

It is said that only those upon whom the Angel of Music smiles have the true star power to survive in an industry. Each year, young girls are lured into the light to see if they have what it takes to make it. Three such girls happen to meet at the concert of their idol, Reika. The three of them are inspired to sing for different reasons and they all decide to enrol in the singing school owned by Reika's manager as a result. Being a chance meeting, they don't make anything of it. But because it's all about chance, they're of course drawn together once more, eventually and inevitably at the school.

The three characters are from different backgrounds; Akari is the ward of a priest who doesn't approve of her following a pop career (unfortunately, all of the Footloose jokes have been expended), Nozomi the spoiled rich girl and Yuki the self made woman.
The first major refreshment is that all three of them don't actually get into the school. Yuki has her tuition money stolen on the way and instead builds a following as a member of a street band. The way that she chooses to stop her worrying and take action is somewhat inspirational rather than the self pitying or stoic paths she could have taken. The three aren't actually together until episode five of thirteen.
They're significantly different enough and have drives: Nozomi's is the most directionless as she only wants to be in the school to meet Reika, her true idol. In this ambition she is aided by Hikoza, her flat topped butler/personal assistant who brings much comedy to the program by his presence and unwavering loyalty. The images that are conjured as he makes his gambits are frequently memorable, and there's nothing suspicious about his frequent excursions to a school populated by bright young things. Akari wants to lift people's souls and Yuki ... just wants to make something of herself whatever way she can.

Chance Pop Session showcases the internal contradictions of the industry (always referred to literally as "this world", but subtitled as "this industry"), that works despite itself. At the same time, the music companies want to promote conformity among their talent while also trying to make them breakout artists. Yuki's independent streak is stifled as she is put into a uniform. There's nothing wrong with "unity", as such, and that is something good to go for in a band. But this series is about inspiration of young women, each whom are supposed to find their own voice. This idea of a production trio of singers makes even less sense in consideration of Kisaragi, who has set Reika free to manage her own career. While there's no doubt that these singers need someone to help shape them, Kisaragi is simply repeating herself.
This is not a criticism of the program so much as it is the industry itself, and this program is more realistic in some areas than others: the real problem most perceive is that the singing school is not just a scheme to make quick money from impressionable girls - some of these academies have to be genuine, and no one ever questioned a dance school. The most correct thing portrayed is the horrible, horrible bitches who work within the school. There's really no other word for them; if one was feeling charitable, they might be "ambitious". Jun isn't bitchy so much as singleminded, but there's a clique of three. You can tell they're no good because they're always scowling. It's the light and dark; every rose has its thorns, and so forth. They will probably be put in their place.
The uniquely Japanese part of the experience must also be taken into account: it's easy to get a sizeable fan following in such a densely packed population. Yuki had more than 85,000 hits on her fansite, and through this she got noticed. Of course, idols' flames burn bright, but that means they can fade into obscurity all the easier. This series therefore seems to offer a precarious balance between reality and fantasy; it shows the harsh possibilities without trying to scare off any young hopefuls, for this was also used as a kind of promotional material.

The visual style is interesting; the main characters have "frog mouths" that become unnoticeable after a while, there's a lack of black "definement" around characters, giving them a sort of brown finish, and some characters have double lined hair. Kisaragi is a decidedly harsh looking woman, almost always shown in profile. She was an idol in her youth, so this might be showing that beauty is fleeting. The effect given is like a minimalistic sixties' French fashion illustration: she's an image of almost grotesque glamour. The singing school in some regards makes no sense whatsoever: most of the girls just wear normal clothes but Akari seems to get around in a swimsuit and Nozomi in a leotard. It's not clear what possible purpose this could serve, and seems quite uncomfortable.
There are techniques involved that made me cry out with joy "Yes! I can't believe they did that!". The two most prominent examples are Jun, the selfish member of the S Class, suggesting something terrible and then highlighting her with lightning and later on Reika being revealed as standing in the shadows, in time for the rain to stop and bathe her in glorious light. I love a well employed visual technique; when used correctly, they're not cliché. There's more than a share of subtlety reserved for this program, however; particularly nice were some of the comments left on Yuki's site.

The music is good, as one would hope it should be, but those who don't like J-Pop need not apply. The only problem is that there's not enough of it. Reika has one song. An artist can't make themself successful on the strength of one song. Would you go to a Men At Work concert and expect them to play Down Under and then leave? Admittedly, you wouldn't be able to name any of their other songs, but you'd expect a bit more of a show. Of course, that can be left aside when it becomes obvious that Reika is at the History stage of her career: that is, she has worked long enough to be able to release a compilation album. The girls are asked by Kisaragi to sing a song, and it turns out to be the OP. That's cheap, that is. Or deep, not quite sure which. They'd better have some insert songs, however, or there will be disappointment.

The voice cast is peopled by those who can actually sing, which is quite handy. The darling Iizuka Mayumi plays a sweet Akari, the frequently unpopular Yamamoto Maria plays a deliberately annoying (but still good) Nozomi and the relatively unscathed Enomoto Atsuko plays a strong, empowered Yuki. Kouda Mariko is a nice Reika learning to perform for herself. She was Hanako-san, so she's just dandy. Kumai Motoko, probably best known for her role as Li Shaoran in Cardcaptor Sakura is completely unrecognisable in the role of Otoki, a nice old woman. There's not much to complain about on this front. The series may have aired at 1:30 AM, but that doesn't mean no effort went into it.

Chance Pop Session is easily on the road to inspiration. Unfortunately it hinges on something so subjective as music, so if you're not a big fan of J-Pop and have too realistic a view of the industry it might not work. Also, for a series about music it doesn't actually have very many songs. Hopefully the characters, and as a result their repertoires, will expand. It is almost undoubted that they will.