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Giant Gorg is a rather rare kind of anime even by retro standards - one of perhaps very few anime that would classify as pure "adventure". Being made in the early eighties, it gives off the kind of charm you'd expect in a Steven Spielberg sci-fi film from those times - a hair-raisingly perilous journey undertaken in search of something unknown, something wondrous, all the while being chased by nefarious baddies with vested interests. While the setup itself may not sound especially original, what the show really has going for it is its consistent degree of physical realism and attention to detail. Its taut and ... sure-handed pacing also lends it the feel of an extended movie rather than a multi-episode anime, imparting it with a certain wide-eyed immersion that you don't often come across in the medium these days.

After Dr. Tagami, a researcher studying mysterious relics in the Austral Islands, somewhere in the remote South Pacific, dies under suspicious circumstances, his son Yuu travels to New York City to meet with Dr. Wave, a colleague of his father's, as per his last wishes as expressed in a letter to Yuu. Almost immediately, they run into hired goons who want to do them all in (Yuu, Dr. Wave, his sister Doris and Argos, their ferocious and trusty Great Dane) and cover it all up as a construction-related accident. These men are hired by GAIL, a seemingly all-powerful megalocorporation which holds most world leaders in its pocket, including the US and the (then-existing) USSR. Its power is such that it is able to secure the cooperation of pretty much all the major world powers in keeping the very existence of the Austral Islands a complete secret from the general public. Fearing for their lives, Dr. Wave contacts a man known only as the "Captain" - a former military veteran and mercenary-for-hire - who agrees to bodyguard them and smuggle them into the Austral islands under GAIL's nose. GAIL, as it so happens, have interests there that are deemed important enough that its chief executive Rick Balboa entrusts no one except his own grandson, Rod, to take over operations on the islands, to which of course he travels in a supersonic private plane.

Now the thing you need to know about this anime is that it kicks off into high gear right from the get-go: the setup I described above takes barely 2 or 3 episodes to get established, and before you even know it you're pushed right into the heart of the adventure. And it's here that the show absolutely excels: it involves you in the nitty-gritty of the action, engaging you in the team's logistical hurdles of getting past a powerful and well-connected cartel, only to head straight into the perilous unknown where they have an even more overwhelming presence. Even in the Austral Islands, where GAIL's scale of operations is quite simply staggering, the show manages to pull off a convincing job of creating realistic odds and plausible circumstances for a small group of unlikely adventurers to survive and elude a group of ludicrously well-armed and professionally well-co-ordinated adversaries. It is not simply the case that they are able to do so by a string of favourable coincidences - in fact, there are times where even small mistakes set them back significantly. Rather, they are shown to survive through the use of seasoned tactics, as well as extensive inside knowledge of the island's geography to their advantage.

Which now brings me to the characters. Some of them might feel pretty "stock": the pure-hearted and intrepid young lead, the obligatory female lead of similar age to the male lead, the nerve-wracked scatterbrained scientist constantly complaining about his lot, the sprightly sidekick ever in rivalry with the lead, and of course the level-headed and street-wise veteran without whose sure-handed competence our heroes wouldn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of surviving. Once again, they distinguish themselves not in their originality but in their consistency and realism: none of them act unrealistically for the circumstances they're put into, or veer off-character for sake of plot convenience, and that applies right down to the minor lackeys. That being said, some are fleshed out in noticeably greater detail than others, sometimes having hidden sides to them. The Captain in particular stands out - this captain be no Haddock, rest you assured. A weather-beaten hulk of a man, he is shown to be unflappable and calculating even in a pinch, and cannily wily in his tactics. What really stood out for me was how believable it felt even when he single-handedly took down multiple enemies, including in hand-to-hand combat - he looks and feels like someone who could actually pull off something like that in the real world.

The antagonists on the other hand, are surprisingly refreshing in their originality, and the way they play off each other feels believable and engaging. The standout among them is Rod Balboa - especially as voiced by Ikeda Shuuichi, the iconic voice of Char Aznable from the Gundam franchise. I can't imagine another voice actor who could have pulled off the role in his place, honestly. Yet another millionaire playboy at first glance - impetuous, hot-tempered and reckless at times - he displays unexpected sides to himself over the course of the show. His brattish exterior belies a keen intelligence - a quick grasp of and adaptability to any situation he's put into - which is one of the reasons his grandfather personally entrusted the project to him. He also has his pride as an individual, as opposed to an heir - when Yuu angrily calls him a murderer, he menacingly growls back at him, "I had nothing to do with your father's death - peg me together with those corporate pawn-pushers again and the kid gloves are off, you understand..?" This pride comes into play later on in the show, when key developments alter the stakes dramatically against his favour. Another notable mention is one Lady Lynx, a mob boss with her own hidden past, and an axe to grind against GAIL.

And finally, there's Gorg itself - more Giant than Robot, more Godzilla than Gundam. It doesn't appear until well into a third of the show, by which time you have all but forgotten about it - which makes for great effect when it finally does make its entrance. In fact, part of me didn't even want to remind you of its existence even at this point so I wouldn't ruin the experience for you. It's a truly awe-inspiring presence, with its imposing size and overwhelming power - something ironically rare to find in a medium littered with giant fighting robots. There's more to Gorg than brute strength, though - it has some wicked physical talent, as well as sound tactical intelligence and situational awareness to complement the Captain's manoeuvres aboard the military vehicle they commandeered earlier on. It also has an agenda of its own - where it ultimately leads them makes for the show's turning point.

There is a reason I bring this up, because it is at this point that things do turn a tad bit cheesy - and here too, not unlike in a classic Spielberg mold. I must note however, that it's nevertheless a fairly restrained affair by the standards of similar fare, and despite feeling a little overwrought at times it never at any point feels out of place in the context of the plot developments. Another thing to note here is that despite the screaming voice of unabashed idealism literally ringing through your ears at this point, the show doesn't descend into cliched tropes even from this point on: even as the plot reaches its climax, the stakes feel as uncertain as ever, which is precisely what gives it a level of tension you wouldn't usually expect to find in a show like this.

Final words: I honestly didn't expect to enjoy a show like Giant Gorg quite as much as I did, jaded as I've grown over the years. While not the most original in its premise, it does stand out as a modest but solidly put-together work moreso than anything else. Aspiring to be no more than a low-key adventure story at the end of the day with a bit of sci-fi thrown in for good measure, its appeal is fairly understated.

Banner of the Stars III is supposed to be the conclusive arc in the grand saga of the Stars franchise. And conclude everything it does, till it has engulfed all of humanity's future in a brilliant blue tint of regal oppression, covered over with a sweet, crooning romance.

Let me get two things out of the way, so you can walk away if you feel offended:
1) I believe the Abh are the real villains of the show, and there's actually a genuine reason the people hate them so much: these people are blindly self-justified aggressors at heart.
2) Worse still - the show is actually aware of ... this, and deliberately distorts the picture to make Abh-haters come off as terrible or pathetic human beings. In this regard, this show is shameful on a level that no other anime I know could possibly match.

Given the above points, there's actually a good reason I decided to pursue the sequels after witnessing the moral horror that was Crest of the Stars. The thing is, I happened to catch a glimpse of the end-credits of this show, and they seemed to paint an entirely different kind of picture - it seemed to end on a tragic and poignant note that finally seemed to acknowledge that the Abh and their ways weren't so noble or beneficial after all, and that people were suffering because of it. This one admission would have given the show's developments an entirely different meaning, and redeemed the entire franchise completely. That was what made this show seem so promising. This is also the reason I even bothered with Banner I, because it seemed to build up to this deconstructive conclusion (however, I skipped Banner II as just reading the synopsis made me want to throw up). Long story short, it proved to be an extremely misleading picture, yet again.

A brief introduction - the show starts in the aftermath of yet another battle between the Abh Empire and United Mankind (the humans aligned against Abh expansionism). Our protagonist Lin Jinto seems to have suffered some injuries from the war and wants to take a break from the fighting. Our other lead, Lafiel the Abh (also Jinto's girlfriend by this time), decides to join him. Jinto is an ordinary human appointed as head of his conquered homeworld by the Abh overlords due to hereditary circumstances, and Lafiel is a member of the Abh royalty, one of many individuals directly in line for succession of the throne. Jinto's homeworld Martine is vying for independence from Abh rule, and at the heart of this movement is Teal Clint, incidentally a close confidante of Jinto's now-deceased family. This is the backdrop in which this roughly hour-long OVA begins.

For much of this brief show, Jinto revisits old places and old acquaintances. Everywhere he goes, his well-wishers try to stuff some sense into him, to no avail. Jinto is convinced that what he is doing is for the best. The show also reveals the final clincher about the Abh that should leave no doubt in anyone's mind about just how sinister the whole setup had been all along. And in the face of all this, the show puts up a loving, smiling face - as though it just treated you to the most wonderful developments ever.

Now, I've reviewed the first two installments without having to drop any spoilers, but here it's simply impossible to criticise the show without getting into plot specifics, because not only is it here that it indulges in its worst ever dishonesty, but it's actually far worse than the previous installments, and stoops to a level so low that it needs to be explicitly pointed out to be appreciated. With that in mind:

----SPOILERS FOLLOW----
First he meets his old childhood friend Que Durin (the sole friend who saw him off to Abh country in the first series, if you recall), offering him a post where he can assist Jinto with various administrative matters. When they meet at his place to sort out the details, Durin confesses his reason to distrust the Abh in what is a stakes-changing shocker of a revelation - to eliminate the possiblity of revolt or in-fighting, the Abh are genetically hard-wired never to be able to turn on their superiors, and despite any possible grudges or resentment find it practically impossible to disobey orders (the phrase "I was only following orders!" gets taken to a whole new level of creepy...). Jinto himself reveals the final piece of this puzzle - which is that by mandate of Imperial Law, any ethnic Terran (i.e. ordinary human) members of the Abh nobility are only allowed to conceive genetically-modified children who would be physically full-fledged Abh - blue hair, body implants and all. The picture that emerges is a system where everyone born into nobility (and therefore important positions of power) are blue-chipped humanoids who have more in common with a random Abh than with their own parent, and effectively no free will....this is even worse than I could have ever imagined. I'm simply at a loss for words here. And it's no coincidence that this vital piece of information was withheld until the very end of this franchise. But the even more horrifying part is that the show makes his apprehensions out to be ultimately unfounded, and that it's precisely these qualities that actually make the Abh GREAT. Give that a minute to sink in.

In the middle of all this, there is an even more crucial development. Jinto's home planet Martine has been vying for independence from Abh rule (and the show has the bloody audacity to refer to the Independence party as the "Feudal government"). The Abh retailate by destroying their planetary defenses under the pretext of a drill-exercise goof-up due to miscommunications. And then - here's the singular worst part - the blame is shifted on the Independence party for forcing the Abh's hand, and they are accused of "coercing the dissenters into submission" by activating the defense system and thereby forcing everyone to get on board with the independence movement because there's "no turning back now". "No civilised person with a decent undertsanding of the galaxy would do this - these are the ignorant actions of an isolated Lander" is how an Abh conveniently puts it. The show tries to suggest that only ignorant and misguided individuals would want to try and seek independence from a forcefully-occupying power that they never wanted any part of in the first place. It also implicitly suggests the most singularly bald-faced lie ever, which is that the majority of the population would NOT want independence from such an invading/occupying force, because of which one would have to resort to such underhanded measures to get the population on board...I can no longer help myself here, I just need to vent out that this is singularly the most shameful, two-faced and obscene notion that this show has so far hurled at me.

Anyways, things being what they are, Jinto decides to do damage control and visit Teal Clint - who is the acting Prime Minister at the helm of the independence movement. A decent man, an honourable man, someone with spine to stand up to the Abh. Someone who saved Jinto's hyde (sorry about the pun) when his very life was at risk. Jinto ought to be grateful to this guy. And also to his wife Lena who doted on him as a child and went just as much out of her way to make sure he was safe. Instead, he has chosen to side himself against the very people who saved his life (whereas the show makes it out that it's the Abh whom he owes his loyalties to). But the two don't care about any of that right now, they just want to see their boy again - such is the love they have for him. The most heart-wrenching part for me was when Jinto replies that he has responsibilities now, to which Lena tearfully retorts, "Responsibilities as an Abh? As an Invader?" She speaks for all decent individuals with that line. Anyhow, Jinto agrees to visit, and they are tearfully overjoyed to see him alive and well - and desperate, Clint suggests what I personally had been practically yelling all along (in my review of Banner of the Stars I, if you recall) - give up the Abh title and return home clean by seeking political asylum. The Martinian people would have understood - the title was forced upon him when he was too young to consent, and he was personally not guilty of any wrongdoing at the time.

But it is here that the show gives its singularly most insincere pretext in the entire series so far for Jinto to side with the Abh hegemony, and moreover for Clint to give up on independence - if Jinto steps down, any other person appointed in his place will "not be so generous", and so a war might break out, putting Martine's very existence at stake. I might even have agreed with that stand (on a strictly short-term and tactical basis, mind you) if Jinto was portrayed as being CRITICAL of the Abh at heart but just playing along so that his homeland can have a future, but it's abundantly clear that he has been completely bought into the Abh way, and is very much in line with their program (there is a telling scene right before that meeting where Lafiel tells him, "This is Your battleground"...). This is where I think that the rationale is deeply insincere and two-faced - it seeks to present Jinto as a neutral and unbiased player in the game when in fact he is anything but, and thus give more credibility to that line of argument. And in any case, just by taking such a stand, Jinto has all but explicitly incriminated the Abh to be coercive thugs ruling with a velvet glove covering an iron fist. But does the show even acknowledge this? Nope. It diverts your attention to how Jinto feels sad at no longer being allowed to return to the forests and the beautiful landscapes of his homeworld, but it pales in comparison to the peerless, radiant beauty...of Lafiel. "Life's too short to live in depression and regret", the show croons. How sweet, how romantic....someone please kill me right now, I can't take any more of this. And as if in answer to my prayers, the show ends, right there.

----SPOILERS END-----

Ultimately, the show actually voices legitimate criticisms of its own premise through these two associates of Jinto, but then covers over them with the most shamefully insincere rationalisations. The blame is shifted on those who refuse to go along with the Abh hegemony, as always. Even at best, the scenario is portrayed as an unfortunate or unavoidable outcome of unfavourable circumstances when in fact the Abh are completely to blame for what has happened. And all of this is glossed over very expediently, and the focus very quickly shifts to some other issue before you realize anything is amiss - and in this department, Banner III operates far more slickly than its predecessors. Come to think of it, the only reason for this made-on-the-quick OVA to exist seems to have been to coyly deflect the most threatening of legitimate criticisms that can be levelled against the show's basic premise.

So...back to Earth - Banner of the Stars III does end on a tragic note, all right. It is the tragic end to all human freedom, not just Jinto's privilege to visit the planet that he unilaterally lords over. But who cares, because he is ensconced in the sweet and caring arms of the most beautiful, wonderful Abh princess, for the rest of his boot-kissing life. And the Abh will take over all planets (because that is their "destiny", and one they themselves daren't question) and thus finally bring about lasting peace to all of mankind. The End. Seriously, am I the only one here who needs to throw up?

Anyhow, it's getting late now - here's my final verdict on the entire Stars franchise: the Stars aka Seikai series isn't Love in the Time of Cholera - it might as well be called Love Cholera. Fans of good Space Opera ought to look elsewhere - the appearance of intriguing political complexity was an elaborate facade to intellectually overwhelm more casual viewers into passively accepting something they would otherwise have puked at. Fans of good romance ought to look elsewhere - all the coy romance between the two leads takes place whenever the show needs to blindside you to the utter and complete hypocrisy of their interactions with the outside world.

Heck, fans of good Sci-fi should look elsewhere, because what actually seemed like a genuinely intriguing and promising sci-fi concept about (seemingly) progressive-minded genetically-modified space-faring humans, turned out to be so creepily monstrous and subversive that it makes even the most depraved eugenic ideologies of the past seem tame by comparison. If you look at it closely, its premise is actually closer to those presented in classic dystopic literature - except here it's presented as something wonderful rather than horrible. Its status as something of a "classic" among old-school anime circles is, IMO, an unfortunate case of people being taken in by its serenely operatic atmosphere and its fairly engaging and believable character dynamics, and failing to see that it's all in the service of some especially sick and reprehensible ideas. The people who made this show ought to hang their heads in shame. Seriously.

Banner of the Stars, as you all know, continues from where its prequel series Crest of the Stars left off, and so the basic premise and setting is the same here too. Humankind is under attack by the Abh Empire, and it is up to United Mankind and their allies to stave off the impending advance after a temporary ceasefire...wait, that's wrong, you say? I didn't actually say anything inaccurate here...oh right, I forgot - silly me - this story is told from the invaders' perspective, and it's them that you're supposed to root for.

Sarcasm aside, given just how utterly horrified I was by Crest ... of the Stars (scoring it a 1/10 in my review), you might wonder why I even bothered with the sequel. The thing is this - this show seemed to be more about its battle than about its political justifications, and given its undeniable artistic talent, I figured maybe there's actually some scope for enjoyment here as long as you could put the god-awful politics aside - temporarily, at least. Unfortunately though, even on its own terms, the battle simply isn't what it was initially made out to be - not unlike the prequel series. And on the other hand, it isn't long before the horrible politics creep right back and break your immersion anyhow. This right here is the long and short of it - the rest of my review will be about justifying and elaborating on this stand.

The show starts off getting you up to speed with the current status quo, as well as the military logistics of the Abh fleet. It also introduces you to the crew of the attack ship Basroil captained by our lead character Lafiel Abriel, with our other lead Lin Jinto serving as a supply officer. A Terran combat veteran called Samson is notably part of the bridge crew, along with Ekuryua, a somewhat withdrawn and introverted Abh girl who seems overly attached to Jinto's pet cat, and another Abh lady whose name I forget. Also introduced are the various Abh military commanders whom I'll get to later. The show wastes no time getting into combat mode, and before you know it the introductions are over and you're thrust into the immediacy of the war. One thing that the Seikai series as a whole does deserve credit for is its pacing.

Now there are two levels at which the battle is depicted: at the here-and-now tactical level, we're shown the trials that the leads face and how they deal with them; and at the strategic level, we're shown various higher-order commanders as they squabble amongst each other and come to crucial decisions. And here's where it gets interesting: at the level of the here-and-now, the show puts you in the hot seat of the front-lines alongside Lafiel and her crew, and gives you the impression of a gritty and dogged battle against overwhelming odds. Every one in the bridge is practically sweating from the tension, and sirens start blaring across the board as one sector after another of the ship take increasing amounts of damage. The tactical breaks provide very little in the way of relief.

And in between all this, the focus shifts to the higher-order commanders as they deal with the bigger picture and strategic aspects of the battle. But in the war room, things seem almost downright boring - the commanders seem supremely sure of themselves to the point of detachment - one goes for a bath in the middle of all the fighting, and another makes a game of pestering his understaff about her personal relationships. All these 'cute' scenes in the high command ships are supposed to showcase the Abh's supreme competence, and their capacity for mischievous joviality even in the heat of battle. But when the show nears its conclusion, all this charm comes undone when an Abh commander commits a shocking act that reveals what the real stakes of the battle were all along, and makes all their previous joviality and nonchalance come across as rather obscene in hindsight.

Another thing to note is that the battle is depicted solely from the Abh's standpoint: you only get to see the Abh side of the strategising, and you only ever learn of United Mankind's strategy or tactics through the obstacles the Abh side faces. So on one hand you get to see how chivalrously the Abh face off against their opponents; and on the other hand how dastardly the enemy is...because that's what they tell you. One unintentionally good thing about this one-sided view of the war, though, is that the enemy is never given a face this time. You only get to see either their ships or mines being blown up. No dastardly, gratuitously-villainous, moustache-twirling military commanders from the ranks of United Mankind plague the screen this time around (that job is taken over by the Abh commanders, albeit unintentionally).

With that out of the way, it's now time to address the Elephant in the Room i.e. the two-faced politics of this show. No, you saw this coming a mile away - and no, there's no getting around this. Because quite simply, not only is it thematically central to the whole story, but it also taints and utterly poisons everything it comes into contact with. So anyways, we're right back to what Crest of the Stars did worst - any humans who do not wholeheartedly and with tears of gratitude accept Abh overlordship are portrayed as corrupt, greedy, morally broke or otherwise generally pathetic. The president of the Aptic system, which the Abh forcefully took over, gives a defiant speech to never surrender to the Abh invaders - but he is shown to do so just to look good to his voters. He even suggests behind-the-scenes that the Abh retort with racist and condescending insults to spice things up for the cameras. The Abh's offer to accept surrender from the Aptic government without imposing any deadline on them is made to look like a magnanimous act of generosity. Even those working for the Abh fare no better - a nation is shown to have joined with the Abh simply because the Abh didn't object to their dietary habits whereas the Terran alliances were absolutely appalled (if you must know, they ate cats - no, I'm not making this up).

And then of course, there's the United Mankind - the only force in the Galaxy that poses any credible threat to Abh dominion. Their policy is depicted not as a legitimate political resistance to the Abh's unilateral aggression (which it easily could and should have been), but as a dogmatic mission to either enslave or exterminate the entire Abh race. And surely enough, they are portrayed as genocidal fascists (albeit off-screen this time) who do not consider the Abh to be human, and thus see it as fair game to disregard their enemy's basic human rights - during combat or otherwise.

On the other hand, Abh commanders like Crown Prince Abriel and Baroness Spoor or even the Bebaus twins, whose actions would have clearly branded them as war criminals in just about any other narrative, are not only never (intentionally) made to look bad, but rather made to look like eccentric geniuses whose outwardly obnoxious antics belie just how "wonderful" and compassionate they supposedly are beneath the surface. The show accomplishes this with its singularly worst act of hypocrisy - while it's abundantly clear to any rational person that these commanders took many of their decisions with a callous and blatant disregard for human lives, their actions are ultimately justified by the show on grounds that these decisions somehow end up working out for the best. A related point is how the show expects you to overlook all of Abriel's needless endangerment of his own troops because he expresses the coy sentiment that he'd never be able to forgive himself if anything happened to Lafiel (his distant descendant) or Jinto. The exact same issue loomed in Crest of the Stars as well, and Banner of the Stars continues in the same dishonoured tradition.

Later on in the series, the Terran-born Prime Minister of the Abh Empire has a brief parting talk with the infamous eyepatch-wearing ambassador from the last series, where he praisingly refers to the Empire as "the only force in the galaxy that can impose modernity on the surface worlds". That right there is the big pretext that the show provides to justify all of the Abh's military aggression over anyone who seeks to oppose their completely one-sided dominion over humans. I continue to be surprised at how many people seem perfectly fine with this.

To make things worse, the show doesn't just leave things be even here: even when the crew are on their down-time and just breathing, either reflecting on their lot or even just making small talk, the show takes every opportunity to illustrate how superior the Abh are in every conceivable shape and form, and just how hopelessly unattainable that superiority is to ordinary humans (again, this ties in with the show's justification of the Abh's forceful takeover of human worlds). It may not be as blatant as it was in Crest of the Stars - but it's there, believe me. And it's done much more subtly this time.

Which brings me to the show's perhaps craftiest sleight-of-hand: during one of their breaks from the fighting, Jinto has a chat with Lafiel - reflecting upon his lot in life, the position he's been thrust into, and his possible career options from that point on. Lafiel also shares some of the decisions she's made about her own future. Throughout the span of that discussion, their relative lack of freedom and legroom within their position as Abh nobility gets brought up time and again, given just how pervasively it is a part of their reality. But under no circumstances is the Abh system itself, which is actually the root cause of their plight, ever brought into question or criticised. The most dumbfounding moment is when Jinto briefly contemplates giving up his title as Count of Hyde and simply returning to his homeworld, but then decides against it because he thinks the people would look down upon him for chickening out of his role as their overlord. Are you KIDDING me?! The people of Martine long for Independence from Abh dominion, and if an involuntarily-appointed governor were to turn down that post and return home, that would make a bold and heroic political statement against the Abh, and the people would have welcomed him home as a goddamned HERO!! Nope, Jinto has no choice (in his own mind, at least) but to continue in his dual roles as a petty officer in the Star Forces on one hand, and a puppet figurehead for Abh rule on his homeworld on the other. Interestingly though, there is one character (and an Abh one at that, to boot) who implicitly criticises the ways of the royals, but the show plays it away as an intentionally spiteful remark made by someone holding a personal grudge, rather than a genuine grievance.

On the technical side of things, the animation is somewhat better than the positively freakish fare that you had to endure last time. The sound and audio cues are pretty much exactly the same as last time, and they mostly do their job quietly and unobtrusively. The opening score, on the other hand (and especially the eerily ominous drum-rolls whenever the voice-over narrator or anyone else speaks Abh-tongue), made me feel deeply uneasy and nauseous - in much the same way that Richard Wagner's "Flight of the Valkyrie" today invokes imagery of cold-blooded monstrosity because of its rather unfortunate appropriation by the Nazi regime.

As for the characters, things are more or less exactly as they were in the last series. Jinto once again proves himself to be an accomplished sycophant. This time around, he is given more space to "develop" - as in, more airtime to express his self-pity with melodramatic wistfulness. Among other things, he broods that no one will miss him when he dies (awwww), and that he won't be around for as long as Lafiel. You know what, his worries might be unfounded - even in his early twenties, he still looks like a 14-15 year-old, and still retains a husky adolescent voice...maybe he has defied the odds and hit the genetic lottery after all! The show also tries to "humanize" Jinto by showing how he winces and cringes in embarrassment at having to read out the Abh's official statements of hostile takeover, but it's a diversion from the plain-and-simple fact that he is perfectly OK with what the Abh are actually doing - the hypocrisy on display is simply sickening. Lafiel is, of course, exceedingly good to Jinto as always, and unfailingly dutiful to her crew - but underneath even that generous and dutiful personality is an uncritical mind, and an unwavering loyalty to the very system that serves to oppress her (and not to mention entire planets besides).

Overall, Banner of the Stars retains the core essence of what made Crest of the Stars so sickening and reprehensible. But where Crest of the Stars provoked shock and outrage, Banner was more of just constantly annoying. The stakes are not something you can sympathise with without rooting for criminal invaders, and that's primarily what breaks the immersion factor whenever you're reminded of it. As for the battle itself, as gripping as it may initially seem, it proves to be more one-sided than it was made out to be, and basically depicts the wholesale slaughter of conveniently "evil" enemies in a glorifying light. If it seems "better" than Crest of the Stars, that's only because it has less obviously-offensive scenes, and instead goes for making subtler insinuations during the more "quiet-time" interactions between the characters. And finally, as much as you may try, it proves impossible to separate the artistic good from the thematic poison of this show, as every event and every interaction is inextricably linked to its reprehensible ideas. It proves once again that it's just not possible to make good wine from bad grapes.

Crest of the Stars is a show that starts off with such great artistic promise, and such effortless mastery of the art of storytelling, that it might seem downright insane of me (or anyone, for that matter) to ultimately award it a score of 1. The problem then, is that it presents a distorted picture of its own premise, and it isn't until close to the very end that it reveals itself to be something that's shockingly nasty and horrifying, and in a way that makes its artistic accomplishments come across in extremely horrible taste. And till then, it comes across as an especially ... charming and thoughtful show, carrying you along for a rather fascinating ride through its strange and curious world. But as I now intend to explain, it is this very "journey" that is a misdirection, and one carried out in unbelievably bad faith.

The show introduces a very intriguing concept - a race of genetically modified space-faring humans called the Abh, who are long-lived, youthful-looking and generally confine themselves to space colonies rather than live on terrestrial planets. These Abh have advanced far ahead of ordinary humans by utilising their genetic modification technology and the freedom of their space habitats to create a population of humans who are superbly adapted to even the most challenging conditions in space, and virtually never age until very late into their lifespans. Their society is also unbelievably permissive, where they can breed with just about anyone with the help of artificial wombs.

On the other hand, they are shown to be territorially aggressive, invading terrestrial planets where the regular humans (called Terrans in the show) live, and claiming them as territories of their Empire. They don't even want to live there (they seem to prefer their Space habitats), but they nevertheless exert their authority over the planets, going to the trouble of toppling the existing governments in place and appointing Terran puppet figureheads to rule on their behalf. This much is verifiable fact. This is also the premise around which the show revolves - just who are the Abh really, and why do they act this way? To demonstrate where they go with this premise (and ultimately get to WHY I'm denouncing this show in such strong terms), I'll need to give at least a general outline of the plot, but I'll try and describe only the broadest strokes, without giving away any spoilers:

In the beginning, the show focuses on the atmosphere of political upheaval caused by the Abh invasion and takeover of governance in a planet called Martine. Subsequently, we get to see the effects of this change on the fate of a young boy (our protagonist, Lin Jinto) caught in the middle of all this, an unwitting pawn in the game. Due to various events, he is thrust into a position of civil service, and is awaiting transfer to Abh country for further education and training. Here he meets our other lead, Lafiel Abriel - an Abh cadet assigned to escort him - and they develop a spontaneous but believable cameraderie and friendship. The stage then shifts to the inside of the Abh spaceship transporting them, where Jinto gets to meet the Abh in person for the first time, and through his interactions the audience gets to learn of their strange and curious ways. It's full of interesting little details that add a sense of charm to the whole thing.

Then, the ship they are travelling in is put in danger, and the focus shifts to the immediacy of the situation - how our leads are going to survive and reach their destination to carry out their duty. This setup makes for some genuinely gripping adventure, that carries this show into about three-quarters of its 13-episode length. The scenes are genuinely tense and suspenseful, and you really don't know what to expect next. And through all of this, you have gradually come to care for the two leads. They seemed really likeable to begin with, they are put through all sorts of danger, and then really come through for each other in ways that you can't help but be moved by. And so you find yourself caring about what happens to them when they finally reach their destination...

And it's here that the show delivers its killing blow: the trials and tribulations of our young heroes are ultimately relvealed to be nothing more than convenient plot devices to showcase the baseness and cruelty of the Terrans opposed to Abh rule. They are shown to be deeply envious of the eternally youthful and long-lived Abh race, and want to subject them to their own dominion and make them their slaves (I swear I'm not making this up). Any humans who are less than enthusiastic to the idea of Abh dominion are portrayed as grotesque caricatures of spite, envy, prejudice, greed, selfishness and cruelty, and even their visual portrayal looks obnoxiously cartoonish and ugly. And the Abhs, in contrast, are made to come off as larger-than-life beings who could do no wrong (unless of course they have half-human ancestry...), and they are accordingly animated to look stately and elegant, with their elf-like features, blue hair and proud but noble bearing. The show goes out of its way at every turn to illustrate how impeccable the Abh are in their character, and how even do-gooder humans are inwardly driven by rather unflattering motivations.

In short, it becomes increasingly clear that all these exaggerated portrayals were in the show's way of justifying the Abh's entirely unprovoked aggression on humans - some of whom weren't even aware of their existence, let alone be on hostile terms with them - all the while shifting your attention to the immediate danger facing the two leads. And consequently, you realize with shock and horror that all those seemingly nasty and unfounded things the Abh-haters said about them earlier on...were actually true. There is one scene in particular early on, where an old woman is overcome with an inexplicably hysteric reaction of sheer loathing and even dread, just at the mere sight of an Abh. In the context of the show's later developments, this reaction suddenly makes a frightening amount of sense (just imagine how it must feel knowing that the very same overlords you've known and loathed since your childhood are still young and strong, and will very likely outlive not only you but your children and grandchildren as well). And in the face of this, the show insists that the Abh are humanity's only real hope - on one hand, it tries to pass off all their horrifying actions as extremely smart moves that are beyond the understanding or appreciation of lowly mortals; and on the other, it tries to suggest that their enemies are actually driven only by bitter jealousy of the Abh's apparent "greatness" and superiority.

An important device for furthering this illusion is the show's own narrator, who speaks in Abh-language with an air of lofty detachment. At various points throughout the show, he plays the role of providing historical context to whatever is being depicted on-screen. But as the show progresses, he starts inserting one sneaky insinuation after another into his narration; until by the end, he is quite explicitly showering unconditional praise on everything Abh, and utter contempt for all Terran institutions. The show also executes another crafty sleight-of-hand to maintain the audience's sympathy towards its protagonist - through the course of the 13 episodes, it subtly shifts from portraying Jinto as an unwilling hostage of the Abh system, to a regular Earthling helping a stranded Abh out of ordinary decency, to an outright Abh sympathiser who implicitly approves of all the atrocities they would commit in the name of a "wronged" people, to a full-fledged member of a nobility that is subjugating his own home planet. And in the end, the show would have you believe that it was the humans (including his father, among others), rather than the Abh, who were the cause of his misery and hardship.

And then there's the Abh themselves - initially portrayed as romantic star-faring gypsies dragged into a war they didn't want ("Kin of the Stars" is what the show poetically calls them), they are subsequently shown to be brave, chivalrous and decisive when pushed into battle...until somewhere along the line you realize that all the Abh you get to see are in fact soldiers in some or the other capacity, and their entire society is in fact organised along militaristic lines. The show has an enigmatic and bombastic prologue scene depicting the Abh fiercely engaged in what appears to be an epic and heroic battle for their lives - but all they were actually doing was destroying the defences of an unwary and ill-equipped planet that barely even knew of the Abh's existence. Quite the heroes, these guys...

Now let's just say that none of this really matters to you, and all you want to know is if this is an enjoyable show on the simple level of an adventure story, or perhaps a romance. Whatever the angle with which you may initially have approached the show - be it sci-fi, politics, drama, romance, or whatever else - in the end you'll find that your hand closes in on empty air. Why do I say this? Because when you get to the last couple of episodes, all the show's initial promise of thematic exploration and character development is crudely cast aside, because it's time to push their ultimate aganda. You can see this for yourself - the plot regresses into something jaw-droppingly preposterous (that is, until the conclusion, when the intent becomes sickeningly clear), and the characters are reduced to being zombie mouthpieces for the author's ideology. The transformation is quite shocking and hard to miss, and it's at this point that you're suddenly snapped awake, and suddenly become aware of the underlying immorality of the whole thing.

On a technical level, the show is extremely accomplished at evoking just the right kind of mood and ambience. The visuals are low-key and present an air of nocturnal tranquility, both in the surface worlds and in space (though in the later episodes it goes for the opposite effect). The music is equally serene, and has a distantly operatic feel. But that's precisely what makes the experience so jarring when you get to those last few episodes - the disconnect between the horror that's being shown on screen, and the way the show expects you to feel about it, induces a feeling of disorientation and nausea even at a basic sensory level. It's not an experience I'd recommend, to say the least.

As for the characters - Jinto initially comes across as an innocent and unwilling pawn in a game that he had no control over, but in the end you get to see his fawning admiration and sycophancy towards the Abh, to the point that he counts himself as one of them, and overlooks the fact that they are in fact invaders and unlawful rulers of his homeworld (I can only guess he will end up fathering another patricidal Abh in his own turn...) Likewise, Lafiel also initially comes off in a similarly sympathetic light as someone who is grateful to someone who saw her for the individual she was rather than for her status in Abh society, but by the end you see another side to her - a blindly self-righteous aristocrat who notes how her people were wronged in the past, but thinks nothing of the atrocities and injustices that her own people are committing on innocent populations. Ultimately, her purpose in the show is revealed to be that of a Starship Troopers-variety "Paragon Soldier", existing only as a mannequin model to exemplify all that is supposedly "noble" about the Abh. The Terrans are grotesquely ugly both in appearance and character like I mentioned earlier, but it's the Abh who will creep you out big-time when they finally reveal their true colours - only to get passed off as noble heroes by the show. Even creepier is the hornet symbolism of their emblems, which captures their shockingly blind hive-mentality, as well as their impulsive vengefulness and ferocity, rather too uncannily.

So there you have it - Crest of the Stars started out as a grandly ambitious and extremely promising Space Opera show that seemed to challenge even Legend of the Galactic Heroes in its scope and emotional impact. Instead, it turned out to be something so nasty it beggars belief, and leaves you feeling sickened and horrified. The world of this show is a quietly creepy theatre of cruelty, populated by ugly and horrible people on both sides, where fairness and decency never stood a chance because the stakes were rigged all along. If, like me, you feel nostalgic for 90's-era animation, or have a soft corner for shows with a tranquil and reflective atmosphere (and this show has it in spades), this show may seem like the best thing the anime medium has had to offer - at least initially. But in the end, you're left feeling thoroughly cheated at an entertainment level - and not to mention utterly appalled at the horror you had to witness.

I have only one question - it's not even a complaint, mind you: What in the world is the point of making this movie? No, seriously - the movie barely seems to know its own focus, and so decides on being whatever the moment calls for. Sci-fi? Go, sci-fi!! Allegory? Go, allegory!! Gravity? No gravity. Whatsoever. Good thing is, there's nothing much to complain about, either - there never was much of a chance to have any.

Ok, so this story is supposed to work on two levels. On one hand you have a sci-fi tale of people on whom gravity works in the opposite direction, ... so they are liable to fall into the sky. Pretty scary, if you actually think about it. Problem is, the regular people think that's because they are "sinners", if that makes any sense to you. Ok, let's go along, so they have been brainwashed to think so. The world of these Inverts is underground, where they lead a claustrophobic existence in slum-punk cities where vast stretches (relatively speaking, you understand) are sealed off to the general public, so they don't fall into the dark abyss...you know what I mean. Just as in the world of regular, decent, God-fearing down-fallers, vast stretches are sealed off to the general public and fenced away, because...well, good citizens don't ask questions.

One day, an adventurous little girl from the underground called Patema ventures out into the unknown, trouble follows her, and the next thing you know, she finds herself hanging on to dear life, quite literally. Lucky for her, a fence-sitting non-invert boy called Age (pronounced Eiji), is startled to see her hanging off his favourite off-limits fence out there in the open world. And the godless fence-sitter that he is, he does what any decent human would do (but no god-fearing Invert-hater could apparently even think of), which is save her from falling into the deep blue abyss above. The rest of the story follows their exploits as they evade the Thought- I mean, Gravity Police, learn about each others' worlds, and of course, end up liking each other a lot (with a very acceptable and inoffensively platonic affection, of course). Who am I kidding? It's not acceptable at all - a godforsaken Invert?!

This is where the second, Allegorical side of the story comes in: Remember that lesson - the only lesson you are ever taught every single day in school? The one that needs to be repeated over and over because it never quite made sense to begin with? About falling upwards being an unforgivable sin? (Hell, you couldn't "forgive" something like that if you TRIED) Yeah, disregard that one. Now you're good to go. Oh, and the Inverts aren't taught any of that, because they don't KNOW they are "Inverts". They are taught a lot more practical things, like Don't Fall Off That Bottomless Pit. So yeah, the Inverts are already good to go as it is - they don't HAVE anything to hate...except falling to death, maybe.

Ok, so let me fast-forward a little here, because this kinda gets to the core of what I'm trying to point out is really lacking in this show...so, things happen, Patema and her new best friend Age get chased by the Grand Inquisitor and his police troops - and desperate, pushed into a corner - they head into the unknown. It's actually a decisive plot twist that I don't want to spoil, because I usually don't do that (or at least don't LIKE to do that) in my reviews. But, thing is, I'm really not sure I should care, because frankly, no one in this story does. I'm not kidding. These guys just discovered A WHOLE NEW WORLD OUT THERE. And what do they do? Explore it? Even bother finding out what the hell is IN there? Nope, the whole thing was put there, plot-wise, just so that our loveable leads could have a touching and poignant moment and resolve their feelings about their respective deceased caretakers. Once they get that out of the way, they head straight back to confront the Grand Inquisitor, leaving an entire WORLD behind them, that was moreover HARD TO EVEN GET TO in the first place!! Now you see where I'm coming from with the incessant sarcasm - nobody seems to care about the world they live in - not the characters, and certainly not the writers - except for when the plot calls for it...and even that's only when it's going for an emotional impact. Well, as an impact, it feels like being touched very gently with a feather...yes, that feels quite pleasant, now doesn't it?

Even at the very end, nothing about their world is actually ever resolved. If anything, the picture is now even more baffling, if you have been paying any attention. And if you have, then - silly rabbit - you missed the whole point of the show! It doesn't matter which side is up - all that matters...is love!! Love thy neighbour, don't push him off the edge. There is this adorable scene at the very end where Patema and Age are, as usual, holding on to each other - just to move each other about, of course. And Porta, a lifelong Invert friend of hers, someone who cared for her and looked out for her all her life, looks at that joyous "embrace" and despairs. He needn't have worried - their love for each other is perfectly innocent and platonic, and there's enough to go around for everyone. And even if he wanted something like that - having been so close to her all her life and having actually gone to so much trouble for her sake, all he had to do...is ask.

Ok, now once again I'll switch the sarcasm off for a bit and ask a real question - on its own level, does this movie do justice to that theme? Well...no one in this movie really seems to hate the other side to begin with, except for a lunatic of a fanatic who wants all Inverts to perish. Even the Police are just passively playing along. If loving each other were this easy (and every other person in my life looked and acted so cutesy and Moe-like), you'd never once have to so much as TRY to teach me something so...adowwable. I guess you should just tag along for the pleasant and inoffensive ride that it is. If you like that sort of thing - hey, I'm no judge - I mean, I know I for one didn't mind it in the least...

Have you ever heard of (or perhaps actually been in) Walt Disney's historically famous "It's a Small World" boat-ride? A century or so ago, it was a thing of wonder. You have pleasingly colourful moving cut-outs, themed after different people and places in the world, on either banks of the stream, dancing along to the jingly "It's a Small World" lullaby song that keeps repeating itself over and over. The whole thing lasts for about a few minutes, and the stream slowly circles around back to where you started, where it drops you off. You get off the boat, stretch your back and arms, and head home. That's what this movie feels like, in a nutshell.

NOTE: This show has been dropped at 6 episodes, but the remaining plot wouldn't change much about what I've said here. In fact, that's part of the whole point.

Licensed by Royalty has arguably one of the most foolproof setups for a great show, but somehow manages to botch it up. Even so, it is worth checking out at least once, just to experience the superbly nostalgic atmosphere it creates.

The thing that catches your eye right away is that it doesn't feel like an anime to begin with. Rather, it conspicuously looks and feels like those oldie Brit spy-fic series they used to churn out back ... in the 60's. Right from the out-there spectacular opening score, the atmosphere has an unmistakeably retro feel - the cars, the music, the 007-esque booby-trapped safehouse, the Blimps (I'm not kidding - they really do go that far). It also has two extremely likeable leads that take you along for a jolly ride through this world. What it does not have, on the other hand, is a plot that can make you care - or at any rate be taken seriously. If you're fine with that, then this is the show for you.

This show really is all about the setup - an undercover agency appointed by the Royal Family of Brit- I mean Ishtar, that works out of a Victorian safehouse in downtown Lond- oh, never mind. As you can see, this is the perfect setup to push any number of spy tropes, props, humour, aesthetics and what have you besides - you can see the great potential right here. The safehouse, for example, is one heck of a cool place to work out of. The show is full of such evocative flourishes, and the resulting nostalgia factor is just off the charts.

Taking you along for a ride through this world are Jack Hofner and Rowe Rickenbacker, the eponymous L/R. The two have somewhat contrasting appearances and mannerisms, but underneath surface-level details they feel more or less like the same guy - a laid-back and carefree spy-guy just riding the wave with effortless skill and style - and there's two of them. But it actually works brilliantly - they feel like twin brothers who are taking the piss out of each other all the time, but know each other thoroughly and are supremely well-coordinated. That they don't seem to have much depth to them is something you couldn't care less about - you just want to go along for the ride with them. The supporting cast are almost downright stereotypical, but they're still well-designed (and well-acted) ones at that. Again, the objective here seems to be more of evoking the right atmosphere than anything else, and on that level it finds it mark perfectly.

Perhaps the best thing about this whole show is the English dub - one of those truly rare instances where the dub is far and away better than the original source. In keeping with the retro-Brit atmosphere, the voice cast is meticulously British-sounding, and they have even gone to the trouble of getting the regional accents right (at least broad imitations, but even that's unbelievably painstaking work for an anime of this scale and scope).

Unforturately, what they don't have is a serviceable plot to carry this setup. Perhaps an episodic format would have suited this show much better, given its initial light and carefree tone. Instead, what you have is a straight-faced plot, but so filled with holes and ultimately so unengaging that you just stop caring at one point. I've heard it gets even more preposterous afterwards, but like I said earlier you couldn't be bothered at this point. Once it stops being fun there's really nothing left worth sticking around for, unless perhaps you don't mind going through the rest of it with your brain switched off (which is arguably the best way to watch this show).

No, I'll tell you what this show REALLY needed - the animation and writing team from Cowboy Bebop. These guys were sitting on an utterly brilliant concept, but they needed somebody who could understand, appreciate and execute that concept with the required expertise. That would have created the perfect show, and for that matter the perfect successor to Bebop, with Jack and Rowe filling in for the Spike and Jet tag-team (and making more co-operative partners besides). But that's in another world, sadly.