Back to StopDropAndBowl's Profile StopDropAndBowl's Profile

"...Your ideas are terrifying and your hearts are faint. Your acts of pity and cruelty are absurd, committed with no calm, as if they were irresistible. Finally, you fear blood more and more. Blood and time."
-Paul Valery

"It is well that war is so terrible — lest we should grow too fond of it."
-Robert E. Lee (allegedly)

In the discussion on the nature of man, the topic of war must eventually arise, and war being the most basic and brutal of all the practices that mankind engages in, it will also inevitably dominate the subject. There is much to say about war, and most of what is ... or will be said is consumed with the dualistic and contradictory nature of its glory versus its terror. The rush of victory and the rivers of blood that must necessarily precede any victory are so intrinsically connected that they cannot be divorced from one another by anyone who is not so intellectually stunted as to be entirely ignorant of cause and effect. All the greatest practitioners of war have struggled to define it, to encapsulate it so that it can be understood in moral terms, while also acknowledging it's inherently immoral nature. Contradiction breeds more contradiction, a truth as complex as it is demonstrable.

Almost as preeminent a subject in the discussion of mankind is that of ambition and the quest for power. If war is the effect of man, then the quest for power and the ambition that both motivates and allows for it are the causes. At the heart of every conflict is a goal to be attained, and a person or people who desire for it's attainment and are willing to pay the butcher's bill for it. Nothing is free, as the economists are fond of pointing out, and certainly power is the least free of all those worldly possessions that exist. It carries the highest cost, as power is, unlike so many other things, a true scarcity. It cannot be multiplied or manufactured and one can only gain true power by denying it to others, or wresting it from those who already have it. Thus is war the offspring of the quest for power.

Among the many themes of the anime, Berserk, the quest for power and the price of ambition stands out as it's primary focus. It is the pivot upon which the world revolves and the characters act out their roles. War is the setting within which the characters live and interact, but the theme that gives meaning to the setting is an examination of the ambitions of men and demons. As they jockey for ever more power, they both erase their own humanity and fulfill it. If man is a creature of definable, discernible nature, than it must be said that his nature is itself a contradiction. There is nothing more yet less human than the slaughter of other humans in the pursuit of power and it is this that compels me most about Berserk. With a deep understanding of man's nature, and a skillful application of archetypes, the story is fleshed out so that the viewer is forced to contend with his own dualism. We shy away from the characters for their seeming willingness to walk down the path of destiny, yet we are enraptured with this same unhesitating, unwavering will to forge ahead, blind to the inevitable consequence. We are attracted to Griffith's ambition, despite knowing the costs and his willingness to pay them. We are absorbed with Gut's skill in battle, despite knowing the purposelessness of his killing.

More than anything it is the brutally simple and rough art, and the haunting soundtrack, that establish the tone of despair and betrayal and inevitability that permeates the story and the characters. As we journey with the characters through their war and their questing, we find ourselves dreading some unknown eventuality, and hoping in vain that somehow the "law of causality", as it is referred to in the show, is not fulfilled. Such emotional investment by your audience is not easy to achieve, and the success of this show in this should be noted. Tonally, Berserk is perfect, almost entirely unsurpassed in the arenas of film, literature, or animation.

On the subject of the characters, there is little to be said that is not effusive praise. They are extremely archetypal, yet uniquely portrayed. Guts and Griffith are obviously the primary characters and so receive the most development and deepening, but the minor characters are not entirely neglected. Casca in particular is a fine example of a female warrior, and her struggles of identity and loss are given just focus. The Band of the Hawk, despite being filled with clear archetypes, are likable enough that you care about their aspirations and their future. They serve their purpose well. If the characters philosophize more than is strictly normal, it is explained by their unique position in the world they live in, and is excusable because they do not speak outside their respective levels of education or experience. Those who should think simply, speak simply. Those who are more complex in their thoughts are more complex in their discussions. Dialogue, even when filled with symbolism, is both real and engaging.

The pacing is excellent; driving and steady, slowly building to a climax that is satisfying, yet leaves you yearning for more. The story is clearly unfinished, but the anime does not feel entirely incomplete. It is a back-story to a wider tale, a look at how things became the way they now are. However, those looking for a conclusion which wraps up every plot-line will be disappointed only if they are entirely unforgiving in their examinations. It has been said that the anime serves as an extended commercial for the manga. I don't know if this is entirely true, but if it is so, than it should be noted that this particular advertisement is among the most compelling and innovative of it's type.

There is always a danger in writing philosophical, introspective works. That danger lies in the pontification of pretentious banalities. When a writer or director is incapable of peering through the shrouds of humanity and reality, any attempt at legitimate intellectual discussion is doomed to both trite oversimplification, and tawdry obfuscation. Berserk does not fall into either trap, instead presenting a moral situation with the understanding that comes with true maturity. No excuses are given for evil, but rather we receive realistic explanations. No apologies for the wicked, but plenty of sympathy and understanding. In the genre within which cheap aggrandizement has taken the place of legitimate moral discourse, Berserk shines as an example of epic-fantasy "done right."

It is hard to explain the fascination we have with pirates in literature and film. In reality, they were not really romantic people, and their "adventures" more often ended in disease and death than anything else. No sane person would ever truly wish to consort with real pirates. They were undeniably brutal people who lived undeniably brutal lives. To say the least, they were not exactly what you would expect from the inspiration of so much romantic attention.

Despite the inconsistencies between historic truth and fiction, the fascination with pirates still exists. We see in their exploits a kind of freedom and nonchalance that ... represents the fulfillment of an inner urge to see what lies over the next hill. The fact that they were also criminals, welcome in no port and embraced by no country, infuses them with an even greater share of this mystique. They were the outlaws of the ocean, battling waves and wind; making their fortune under the bright sun and salt-scented air. The deep blue of the sea and the glittering greens of tropical islands were their natural habitat, just as the deserts and plains of North America belong almost exclusively to the cowboys and vaqueros.

It would seem that space is our new sea. It is the next horizon to conquer. And as such, it is filled with the same kind of mystique and romantic draw that the ocean once held. It is no accident that "space pirates" is a theme that has seen plenty of use in science fiction. Mixing the debonair flair of the romanticized pirate with the natural mystery of the empty blackness of space speaks to an innate sense of adventure and wonder that resides in even the most timid of souls. Mourestu Pirates (Bodacious Space Pirates being it's English title) takes on this theme with the daring and high-spirited romping that it requires; and the result is an unexpectedly clean-cut gem of the science-fiction genre.

(((In the interest of historic accuracy, we should first clear up a misconception. There were "legal" pirates. Privateers, they were called, and they were basically sailors who were employed by one specific government to plunder the ships of another hostile government. Letters of Marque were issued by many European nations before and during what has become known as the Golden Age of Piracy. With these letters in possession, pirates did have some official backing. The show deals extensively with this specific aspect of piracy, as all the pirates in Mouretsu Pirates are basically privateers.)))

As to the show itself, is hard to pin down exactly why it works so well. The idea of a high-school girl becoming a pirate captain may seem silly, and it is a bit, but it makes sense in the context of the actual story. I usually shy away from summaries in my reviews, so I won't try to explain the exact situation, but suffice it to say that it is not so simple as: high-school girl by day, pirate by night. They do a fine job at melding the aspects of the main character's life so that school and piracy are, to her, intrinsically connected. One great pleasure I did have was in the opening arc, how they displayed the relevance of her involvement with her school's yacht club, a plot-line that continues throughout the show. Her skill at managing and captaining a ship is well founded, and unlike many other shows in the "suddenly thrust into a position of power" genre, she goes through a process of learning and becoming better throughout the story. It is always with some annoyance for me when the main character, with no experience whatsoever, leaps into a mastery of some new craft. Mouretsu Pirates avoids this pitfall deftly by both giving her ample experience with space-ships and by slowing down her development and limiting the scope of her earlier successes.

One thing I always look for in science-fiction is how much science we are given. Perhaps it would be more accurate to call it pseudo-science. Whatever we call it, there is a strange habit in most people of throwing any story involving space or technology into one wide genre. Many famous works of "science-fiction", such as the well-known Star Wars saga, are more fantasy than classic science-fiction. By this, I mean that the technology utilized by the protagonists and antagonists is just a setting in which these more fantastical works take place. Little attention is paid to giving some establishing basis for the way things work. Mouretsu Pirates doesn't go out of it's way to define every technological existence or breakthrough, but it does give ample focus to them. This adds to the flavor of the world and gives it a more realistic feeling. Some might be turned off by this, and expect things to just work without explanation, but I appreciate it when a piece of art in the science-fiction genre actually gives some focus to the scientific aspect rather than ignoring it.

One scene in particular, where the protagonist is on a cruise with her yacht club, stands out as a fine example of using exposition correctly and efficiently. Details are given in a realistic, conversational manner. Rarely do we have characters simply explaining things, more often we are expected to pick up on context clues and use prior revelations to make conclusions as to what is possible and what is going on. This kind of trust in one's audience is refreshing. I don't want ten minute speeches from one character to another explaining how the ship's guidance system works, I would rather figure it out on my own by listening to two characters who are already familiar with it speak on the subject. There are few: "As you well know..." moments in the show and the lack is definitely something to be noted with pleasure.

Another point of praise is that in this story with a female main character and a pretty wide female cast, none of the women feel objectified. They stand on their own, and the kind of mindless "fan-service" that one would expect is conspicuously absent. The result is that I respect the characters for their cunning, skill, and grace; not for their physical assets. This is not to say that there is not a kind of cuteness or that the show is entirely void of presenting attractive characters, but it is tastefully done. We don't get zero-g bosom bounces in this anime, and not once was there a hint of accidental nudity. In the place of such tropes was solid characterization and fresh situations. The females are independent, intelligent, and can stand on their own in the world of piracy; and most importantly: they are females, not bundles of masculinity and bravado who's only claims to femininity are giant boobs and sultry attitudes.

The pacing of the story is another high-point. Some might be turned off by the slow pace in the beginning, but I for one found it to be quite charming. The time is used wisely in setting up both the world and the characters, and is a nice contrast to other stories which jump right into the action without giving you a compass or map with which to guide yourself through the maelstrom. (shameless puns intended)

I don't know if I would go so far as to call it a flaw, but one minor issue with the show is that it never really coalesces into a specific story-line. It's not exactly slice-of-life, but it definitely hasn't formed a core, overall plot beyond that of becoming a pirate captain. The show feels like an introduction to a wider, more expansive tale. One that I am very interested in seeing. With the attention given to the set-up and introduction, I can only assume that the story itself will be handled with the same technical mastery. The direction and writing are solid, the story coherent, and the final execution shows a deep competence in all aspects. Rare indeed is the show that hits all cylinders, and Mouretsu Pirates is definitely a shining example of what a competent staff can do with the right resources.

As for the other, non-story aspects: all of it is very well done. The VA's fit the characters and give good performances. The music is an appropriate mixture of boisterous exultations and grandiose orchestrations; and the art-work is both clean and colorful. The general designs of the space-ships are beautiful in a utilitarian way, adding further to the realism of the overall story. The character design was original and attractive, with a wide variety of looks and outfits creating an assorted cast of easily recognizable characters.

At it's heart, Mouretsu Pirates aims to be a teenage girl's swashbuckling romp through space, and it succeeds at hitting the mark every time. I am surprised that I had never really heard much about it before this, and in fact kind of just stumbled upon it while looking for something else. I am very, very glad that I didn't pass it over. It is not a diamond in the rough, but rather an already cut, glittering jewel just waiting to be discovered and enjoyed. I would recommend this show to everyone who has even the slightest interest in science fiction, and to general audiences as well.

"It's time for some piracy!"

Story: 9/10 -The premise may seem silly, but the execution pays close attention to establishing a very realistic scenario. The setting is incredibly interesting and the development of the plot-lines is well-paced.

Art: 10/10 -Beautiful in both it's simplicity and it's originality.

Sound: 10/10 -Everything you would expect from an anime about space pirates. Great soundtrack, great VA's, interesting sound effects.

Character: 9/10 -The cast is broad and likable, the development of the main character is visible and logical, and the characters are original. Minor characters don't go through as much development or deepening, but it does not detract much from the overall story-line.

Enjoyment: 9/10 -It works and it works well. If you absolutely HAVE to have action every single episode, than you might be disappointed. Otherwise, the show is surprisingly accessible and thoroughly enjoyable.

Overall: 9/10 -One of the better decisions I've made in a long time was taking the chance on this anime. Give it a shot, and I almost guarantee that you won't be disappointed.

"Don't cry. Don't raise your eye. It's only teenage wasteland."
-"Baba O'Riley"
The Who

We have all seen shows that focus on one facet of the human experience; be it fear, hopelessness, sadness, romance, boredom... any one of the myriad of emotions or facts of life that we go through. Appropriately, those shows that have a more singular focus tend to keep one tone. A romance keeps a romantic feel. It's situations and the conversations that drive the dialogue are usually romantically flavored. A show about betrayal keeps a darker tone, one where every action and word is drenched with a kind of paranoia and suspicion.

However, ... most writers realize that human life is not composed of just one emotion or tone. We all experience sadness and betrayal, sure, but we also experience humor and friendship. Thus, most shows, even those with a singular focus, will tend to implement multiple themes and tones along with their main focus. This can both deepen the characters and the overall storyline, as it more accurately portrays the human experience, and allows a contrast between the darkness and the light, the sadness and the joy, the romance and the heartbreak.

There is another type of show, however. Shows that don't focus on any one facet of life or any one emotion, but rather attempt to show the entirety of human existence. They can't be said to be about betrayal, despite having betrayals, or about romance despite having romantic themes. Those stories are about showing all the experiences and emotions that we go through. Some people prefer more singular focus, some people prefer broader strokes; but most people agree that one is not inherently superior to the other. Comedies are not worse for not bringing any sadness or break from the hilarity. And epics are not worse for having both comedy and sadness in one story. They are different, but equal.

It would be wrong to say that executing one type correctly is more difficult than executing the other type. To keep a single tonal show from becoming hyper-focused and flat is just as difficult as melding all the elements together into one cohesive story-line. However, one problem that the single-focus shows usually do not run into is that of inconsistent tone. And that, in my opinion, is the biggest flaw of Kakumeiki Valvrave. It suffers from inconsistent tone and thus negatively affects both the immersion of the viewer and the communication of the themes.

One driving theme that stands out more than any other in Valverave is that of growing up. This is where the quote that begins my review comes into play. Being a teenager is hard. It is a time where hormones run wild; and serving as the separation between childhood and adulthood, it often breeds a kind of confusion and despair. What is my place in the world? What kind of man or woman will I become? Are the dreams of my younger days consistent with the reality that surrounds me? What are my responsibilities, and what are the consequences of failing to fulfill them? These kinds of questions plague almost every teenager at some point. And they are not bad questions to ask. In fact, asking them is a natural process of learning about ourselves and the questioning itself helps lead us toward satisfactory answers.

In some ways, Valverave explores these questions and themes in a mature, solid manner. The characters deal with death, isolation, responsibility, and new-found power and freedom in realistic ways, and their reactions are both informative and entertaining. In other ways, the show seems to be a farce, giving foolish answers and unrealistic portrayals. Things occur which simultaneously contradict each other, not in the manner of continuity, but in the manner of tone and message. An exploration of meeting the basic needs (food, water, shelter, etc.) of ones-self and ones companions without the help of "adults" is undertaken, but then the answer is handed to the characters with seemingly no effort or loss on their part. A death occurs which serves as a catalyst for coming together and of recognizing the importance of discipline, but the message is weakened by the fact that no other consequences seem to occur when the characters fail to follow through with their new realizations. Most importantly, in a show with heavy themes of sacrifice, there seems to be little sacrificing occurring other than the obvious: "Do you resign as a human?" question which is posed at the beginning of the show by the Valverave's.

This causes a break in both realism and tone. When I am despairing of how the teenagers will survive without money or industry, the problem is solved almost as simply as with a push of a button. When I wonder if a lack of discipline and authority will bring assaults or chaos, the resulting assaults and chaos are so weak and short as to have no real affect as plot-devices. Most surprisingly is one scene where an extraordinary act of sexual violence occurs, only to be glossed over as something that just happened. No consequences or hidden triggers are released or unveiled. The complete ease with which one main character predicts his enemies movements and plans is reflected by the complete ease with which the cast as a whole is able to survive, seemingly with no thought given to how they are surviving. Challenges that appear are neatly wrapped up with little to no lasting effect other than a lesson learned. Failures result in momentary set-backs, only to unleash a new and unforeseen power which reverses the set-back so that the failure has no consequence, but rather could be seen as a kind of success of it's own. It is fine to have such events, if they are done correctly. Characters should learn from their mistakes, they should overcome challenges. But they should also be scarred. When a character experiences no pain or loss from challenges or failures, the challenges begin to lose any emotional weight, and the character loses emotional depth.

This is not to say that the show is all bad. In fact, some parts are very well done. The aforementioned scene of sexual violence is very interestingly juxtaposed with a speech about fulfilling selfish desires, a speech that gains high approval among it's listeners. A scene where one character must watch the death of a very close family member is juxtaposed with joyous cheering from other characters over a victory achieved. These are examples of using inconsistent tone correctly. Where the existence of unrestrained joy in one area only heightens the anguish in another, or when the contrast between openly cheering the irresponsible fulfillment of selfish desires serves to heighten the horror of the form mindless self-fulfillment can sometimes take. These examples are moments of surprising flavor in an otherwise bland story. They are the exception, not the rule. If the show could keep the quality it expresses in those moments than it would certainly be a success, if a flawed one. But the quality is not kept, and those successes serve only to highlight the magnitude of the failures, rather than the other way around. Our characters become less than they should be and our story is neutered by the ease with which some essential challenges are overcome, and the lack of consequences to essential failures.

It is hard to determine exactly how to rate this show. Do the redeeming qualities outweigh the failures? Are the failures so overpowering that they lessen the value of those moments of brilliance? I can't tell whether the show is, at it's heart, bad or good. The execution is certainly flawed, but at the core the story has potential. Part of the problem with the show is how difficult it is for the viewer to pin down it's intentions. Is it simple teenage escapism? Is it a kind of self-aware parody? Is it an earnest attempt to portray the reality of growing up? If I could answer these questions, I feel like I would be much more comfortable in making a complete determination about the show's quality. Maybe I just haven't watched carefully enough. Perhaps I've missed some essential theme, and it is my own failing that I am incapable of appreciating the show. However, it is my opinion that any medium involving story-telling is primarily an art of communication. I hold, perhaps incorrectly, that it is not my failure of understanding, but theirs of being incoherent. If their goal was to tell us about "teenage wasteland" than they failed to do so in any meaningful way. They would have been better served just throwing in Who's Next and listening to Baba O'Riley.

Story: 4/10
Art: 9/10
Sound: 8/10
Character: 3/10
Enjoyment: 4/10

Overall: 4/10

It is very easy for young people, teenagers and young adults, to fall into despair. Treading the line between adulthood and childhood can lead to feelings of uselessness, a lack of motivation, insignificance, and an overall questioning of the role one plays in a suddenly larger, colder world. The warm safety of childhood is necessarily left behind, and the comforts of not making important choices fades away to reveal a somewhat terrifying truth: we are all responsible for our own destiny.

Suisei no Gargantia seeks to address some of these problems, and to offer a vision of hope to young people who might feel that ... despair of growing older. And in this, I believe, lies it's greatest strength. It does not protect us from the realities of life: that people die, that sometimes we make the wrong choice, that perhaps our foundations are not correct or are not applicable to our current situation; but at the same time, it does not ask us, the audience, to wallow in a sea of loss.

At the heart of the show is the main character. Ledo is a child soldier raised in a society that is involved in a war for survival. Some of Ledo's first words are explaining that he has no fear of death, and further that he has no desire for procreation or freedom. His entire existence is defined by his occupation, and his purpose in life is simply to advance the goals of his society. In a great many respects, Ledo represents both the machine and the child. He is a child in that he does not make his own choices, and does not question the authority and rightness of his "parents". He is a machine in that his every action and thought is defined by how it is useful to his people. As much as the mech he pilots, he is just another tool; himself being piloted by the doctrines of his upbringing and the orders of his superiors.

As Ledo learns to make his own choices and begins defining himself outside of his occupation, we are presented with new themes. And it is in this that we run into what is, in my opinion, Gargantia's greatest flaw. It is not a terrible flaw, but the show suffers slightly from not fully exploring many of the themes that it brings up. It is understandable due to both it's length and it's target audience, but I still believe that there was some room for more involved exploration. However, as I said before, the flaw is minor and does not detract from the show in any meaningful way.


Story: 9/10

The story is basic, but stellar. The characters are interesting, the overall plot intriguing, and the themes and symbolism are mature and well thought out. The pacing and dialogue were both excellent, both used to great effect. And more than anything, the payoffs were there. From the fast-paced beginning to the final scene, the story grabs you and doesn't let go. Some might see the middle of the show as dragging, but when taken as a whole, I believe those more character focused episodes were necessary to develop the relationships of our protagonist and also to give weight to later scenes where the story takes a darker, more brooding tone.


Art: 10/10

This is where this anime really shines. I don't know if I can remember seeing such a bright, colorful anime. More than anything, the world looks "lived in". Too many science fiction stories have settings that are entirely sterile, where everything is too new, too shiny, too clean. Gargantia is rusty, with heaps of corrugated metal and twisting, winding avenues that run throughout it's length. It would be hard not to say that this show has some of the best artwork I've seen in a long time.


Sound: 9/10

Nothing out of place. The VA's all did a very good job, and the music was fitting. Sound is easy to get right, but when it's wrong, it can ruin everything. Gargantia did it right.


Character: 9/10

The character development was strong, but not perfect. Some of the side characters were slightly unexplored, but overall this was understandable, and no one really comes off as one-dimensional. Ledo and Chamber are both very interesting, very realistic characters; both of them get the 10/10. We feel for them, and most importantly, we can put ourselves in their shoes. I hesitate giving this a 9/10 instead of a perfect score, but feel that though the target audience was younger, there was still some room for more concise, and deeper characterization.


Enjoyment: 10/10

Simply put: the show achieves it's purpose. It is supposed to be a coming-of-age story with an overall sense of healing, and is supposed to evoke a sense of fascination and wonder at the wide world a teenager or young adult will find themselves in. To this, it succeeds wonderfully. Enjoyment is a very personal factor, with no specific metric that can be appealed to, but I feel comfortable in saying that this show will be enjoyed by most who watch it. As long as you keep your expectations where they belong and your mind open, there is nothing that should drive anyone but the most cynical away.


Overall: 9/10

I really want to give this the 10/10, and perhaps upon a second viewing I will change my score. As of now, I feel that calling it a masterpiece would be too much though. The show is amazing in so many ways, and definitely has moments where it shines brighter than a lot of more popular, more highly rated shows; but at the end of the day, it has it's flaws. They are minor, and do not necessarily detract anything from the show, and every one of them has justification; but still they exist.

I would recommend this to anyone and everyone. Watch it. Even if you don't enjoy it as much as I did, you will almost certainly not regret giving it a shot.

I have a horrible disease. It's called (by me) "I can't stand to sleep on an ending." Basically, It means that if I read or see the ending of some story that I really like, I end up thinking about it a lot and can't manage to sleep. This has led to many sleepless nights, and also has led me into starting a lot of new shows. See, if I start something new immediately after ending something, even if the new show is not very good, I'll be able to sleep because I'm thinking about the new show and not the one I just finished. ... And that is how I stumbled onto Baka to Test. I had just finished something I really liked (Can't seem to remember what now) when I happened to see this on Netflix and decided "what the hell" and started it up.

Now that the introduction is out of the way, let's start this review.

Baka to Test is stupid, gross, heavy-handed, obvious, inane, and utterly entertaining. Somehow, this show manages to bring in all kinds of elements I don't really like about anime and storytelling in general and still make it work brilliantly. It helps that it's very sarcastic about all those elements, presenting them humorously and gently poking fun at them. But it still employs those elements seriously, to great effect. Never losing sight of it's role as a comedy, it manages to keep a sense of drama without becoming either melodramatic, or overly silly. The comedy makes the drama funny, and the drama gives the comedy a certain weight that it wouldn't have without the comedy.

Now, don't get me wrong, the little drama that there is in this show is always punctuated with the appropriate lightheartedness. There will be no tears, but plenty of chuckles. And it actually is all fun and games, but that doesn't keep it from sometimes bringing out a bit of serious issues and themes. Those themes are presented in a comedic manner, but themselves are, in other stories and shows, more often seen in a less comedic setting. It is a very simple show, with very simple, broad themes and story-lines; but I hesitate to call it shallow. In a way it is extremely shallow, as it aims for plenty of cheap laughs, but it manages to obtain those laughs despite my best resistance. That shows a fairly deft touch, as it is not easy for slapstick to entertain for very long.

There is a plethora of bad comedies that aim for the lowest common denominator, rare indeed is that show that so openly and unashamedly aims for it, and hits the bulls-eye with perfect accuracy. Baka to Test, for me, hit the mark, and for that I will give a nod of appreciation and respect to the writers and directors. I won't call it genius, because the show itself ridicules such an association within the first episode, but I will call it competent. Extremely competent.

Now onto the specifics:

Story: 7/10
Pretty standard fare: an interesting setting, intriguing locale, and the classic, ever-so-popular "Losers rise up!" storyline. Overall, it's pretty generic, but people tend to forget that "generic" is not synonymous for bad. In fact, often times, generic stuff is better than the name brand. Generic, in this context, is simply that which is commonly produced. Rare indeed is the story that is generic, but still manages to obtain that unique spark of individuality. Besides, classic story-lines are "classic" for a reason: they work. And when they work, they work well.


Art: 9/10

Overall I was both intrigued and impressed by the art. The devil is in the details, and this show really managed to hit the details well. Nothing too flashy (except in a few, intentionally over-the-top parts) but definitely has it's own style. Even shadows are personalized here, and the backgrounds are subtle jokes in their own right. Very bright and colorful, the art complements the story very well and definitely helps define the show.


Sound: 10/10

Outstanding is the word I will use. Now, admittedly, I'm a fan of dubs and a big fan of Funimation, so I really enjoyed all the characters voices. I imagine that if you are not so big a fan of dubs, that the original cast will work too, but can't really comment because I haven't seen it. Where I really saw the sound shine through was in the sound effects and the music. Certain effects added a lot of humor, and some of the music had me chuckling every time they came on.


Character: 7/10

Nothing too fancy, mostly archetypes, but again, subtlety is where it hit the mark. While being archetypal, this anime goes intentionally over-the-top and REALLY hits the stereotype pretty hard. Anime tropes abound in this anime, but all of them poke plenty of fun at themselves so it manages to work in a really clever, satisfying way. The characters aren't exactly deep, but I have a feeling that wasn't unintentional, and to be honest, they didn't need much depth to be entertaining as hell.


Enjoyment: 8/10

To put it simply: either you will like it or you won't. I don't see how someone could be lukewarm about it (though there are people who can be lukewarm about anything at all). For me, looking for something simple, palatable, and not (forgive my French) up it's own ass, it was exactly what I needed. Nothing too heavy here, and to be honest, that is extremely refreshing. You can just sit back and watch this show without having to worry about it being some artistic achievement that you feel obligated to examine and plumb through. Whether it's a lazy day off of work (or school), or thirty minutes before bed-time, this show fits right in to those moments in your schedule where nothing else is consuming your time and attention.


Overall: 7/10

I hate giving this a 7, because that seems way too harsh for something I so thoroughly enjoyed, but people seem to forget that 7 is "good". And that is what this show was to me: "good". I hesitate to give it less than an 8, and right now am really considering changing it, but I have a feeling that the show would make fun of me for those feelings with a black and white scene so I'll stick with my gut and say that this was a good show. Not a masterpiece unless you REALLY love the humor, but not bad or mediocre unless you're a stick in the mud. Competency at it's best and funny down to the last moment. Would recommend to anyone over 13 (some parts and jokes are... more mature in theme, while being less than mature in execution) who wants to relax and have a laugh or two (or seventy).

“I'm the one who will grip the sun, no matter how hot it is!”

Kamina (one of the protagonists) gives a lot of memorable quotes in this series, and chances are that if you’re reading this review you already know some of them. I find it interesting that this particular bit of dialogue I’ve quoted goes relatively unnoticed, as I think it sums up the show rather well. Taking hold of the sun and harnessing it may sound glorious, but the undertaking carries a hefty price. TTGL (the show) reminds me of the Greek myth of Icarus; the boy who flew too close to the ... sun on wings of wax that melted, and plunged him into the sea. This show also reaches for greatness, and inevitably, it experiences it’s own fall.

This is not to say that it’s a bad show. It isn’t bad at all, in fact, it is usually entertaining; and doesn’t lack a certain flair that instantly separates it from anything else. Style is where this anime really shines through, and in that respect, it has few peers. The fast-paced storytelling and over-the-top action of the first episode gives you an idea of how the show will play out. There will be surprises along the way, but in the end, the story never really does evolve too far beyond that simple premise of mecha, guns, explosions, and action. Characters do develop over time, and this growth is usually logical; but will always lead back to more fighting with bigger and better weapons. It’s a simple formula, and in this case I would say that it was successfully executed.

Contrasting with the static setting is the primary theme: the evolution and the inevitability of human growth. And all the prices that come with it. It presents us with a detailed picture of our own expansionary tendencies, and instead of condemning them, makes a rather profound argument in their defense. Serving as a symbol for our ability to grow and evolve, the drill and spiral are both commonly seen throughout the story. The spiral: twisting ever upward and outward, always circling back around it’s point of origin, repeating itself evermore on ever-grander stages. The drill: a single point that pierces whatever boundary it meets, and a spiral behind the point that pushes open an ever-widening path through those boundaries. The ideas of historical repetition, destiny, inevitability, and choice are all explored through the interactions of the characters and the events that they partake in. And this is all reflected in the repeated use of larger and more extravagant drills and spirals.

While this theme is complex, and the argument presented is thoughtful; there is some problems in the execution. Stories need good, clear themes to be good stories, but they also need good direction, pacing, and dialogue. Symbolism and ideation are necessary, but not enough. The first act felt rushed, and left some key story-elements unexplained. More problematic was that it gave the following act a brooding sense of finality. One is left wondering, to some degree, if the show should not have simply ended there. I believe, with some simple tweaking, that it could have ended there, and might have actually made for a better show. But alas, I am not the creator, and that was not their choice.

There is a third act, and it is that part of the story that felt the most out of place, and unlike the first act, was far too long. In some senses, we feel that characters have grown too quickly; but in others we feel that they haven’t grown at all. Consequently, the static setting is no longer ironic, but in some ways: dull. The repetition of action and even of dialogue, while appropriate in some instances, was eventually reduced to a string of bland nods at revelations long since achieved, and problems long since resolved. The emotional weight of the first act and second acts drags at the third act, and results in a kind of hollowness in the events and characters.

However, for all its flaws, the finale is appropriate; and the epilogue does, to some degree, wrap up the show in a pretty decent and conclusive way. Thankfully the show retains its style and flair throughout the end; but both are notably extinguished when compared to the grandeur and promise of the first and second acts. Whatever failures the final act does have, I don’t think that they outweigh the successes of the beginning and middle. I would recommend the series to pretty much everyone, but would also leave him or her with a word of warning. You will probably like the show, and you might love it, but you also might be disappointed by the last eight or nine episodes.

Overall, it’s a very interesting show that I’m glad I watched. I like it more as time passes, but I also wonder if that’s because I’ve forgotten about the worse parts and remembered the best parts. Maybe someday I’ll give it a rewatch and see how I feel. For now, I feel comfortable in saying this about it:

Great Idea + Average Execution = Good Show

{{ Specific Ratings:

Story: 7/10
Art: 9/10
Sound: 8/10
Character: 7/10
Enjoyment: 7/10
Overall: 7/10 }}

This show is a classic case of: Good Idea, Bad Execution

It starts off simply enough with an intriguing (if all-too-common) storyline and interesting, shadowy characters. The first few episodes are pretty strong, focusing mainly on the development of the main protagonist and his interactions with his new employers and colleagues. I was eager to find out what would happen next, and in my eagerness, I ignored all the signs of what would come.

Very quickly the story takes a very cliched turn, and the characters become little more than billboards of irrationality. The motivations of the protagonists, antagonists, and pretty much everyone in the show, ... suddenly become contradictory to their earlier actions, thoughts, and reactions. The plot develops, rather quickly, from a biting psychological-thriller, into a predictable and unrealistic drama.

Not to spoil anything, but the hardened and brutal criminals of the first few episodes suddenly become weak and ineffectual, the anonymous, silent killers suddenly become flashy and all-too-eager to shout their names and identities from the rooftops. And of course, the calculating villains seem utterly incapable of understanding even the simplest of human motivations. It becomes all too easy to predict what will happen by simply having watched a multitude of bad television and feature films. If it's a cliche, it's probably used. If it makes little sense considering the setting, it probably occurs. Some people may think I'm being too harsh here, but the unrealized potential of the story makes the decisions of the writers and directors all the more questionable.

As the story begins to reach it's climax, one is forced to question the relevance of some major characters and earlier plot-developments. Little attention is payed to developing the rationale behind the decisions that the characters make; villain and "hero" (there are no real heroes here) alike simply act so that the plot can be advanced. Unfortunately, the plot advances in the least interesting and most predictable ways, and is itself full of holes. For example, a time-skip of two years leaves us with some people who look like they've not grown either physically or emotionally, and other characters who don't even closely resemble their earlier selves.

The result of the bad decisions made by the writing and directing teams is that some viewers lose interest in the outcome of the story, or the fate of the characters. Indeed, it is difficult in some ways to find the energy to care about the development of the plot and characters, when 90% of the time, your first guess is the right one. Actions are taken that seem to have no inner meaning or relevance to the actual story. Motivations which seemed ludicrous are revealed to be just that: ludicrous. Any hints that this may all be the design of some mastermind are left forgotten and we come to find out that the villains and "heroes" are all just that dumb.

To be honest, I find it difficult to rate this series as anything above mediocre. The art and music are all perfectly fine, though one particular theme is overplayed. The story is intriguing, if one is not looking for complexity or depth, and is not expecting something "new" or very creative. The characters are often interesting on the surface, but upon closer inspection, they become one-dimensional and sometimes, very contradictory. The drama is contrived and the plot-holes begin to weigh down any emotional value the events may be trying to convey. The ending was, in my opinion, fitting for such a series: cliche and not very well-executed. What started off great was, sadly, doomed to failure.

Overall, I give it a 5/10. In some ways this is too harsh, but in others it is far too lenient. Stories that don't take risks are usually boring and not enjoyable, but stories that take risks have to deliver. In my humble opinion, Phantom: Requiem for the Phantom took plenty of risks, but almost none of them payed off in the end. The higher one flies, the harder one falls.

In closing, I will put a quote from my brother about the show that I think summarizes it perfectly:

"It was like someone wanted to make a hard, biting, psychological show about assassins, but wanted to make it for an audience of fifteen year old girls."

((((After Edit: Upon further reflection, I have decided that this is perhaps the worst anime ever made, and have appropriately given it a 1 score. I have left the original review intact however.))))