Cyberpunk: Edgerunners is clearly a product of compromise. In the same way that I had to make one step towards the Cyberpunk franchise by watching this anime just because I really enjoy the crazy bastards that made it, Imaishi and more generally studio Trigger had to significantly compromise in order for this project to exist as is.
Don't misunderstand, compromise is not a negative term per se. Many masterpieces were born out of artistic compromise. Hell, anyone even remotely aware of the way anime is made - and aware of the current state of the industry - knows well that nothing gets released without a myriad
...
of accomodations and various meeting-the-producers/viewers/coworkers/etc-halfway. But the very concept of Edgerunners is the result of a halfway meeting. Being the lazy ass that I am, I didn't look for any interview about the genesis of the initial project so I'm guessing it went something like: CD Projekt RED wanted to expand the franchise, Trigger wanted money. Therefore Cyberpunk: Edgerunners. But the FACTS don't really matter here. Maybe it went nothing like this. Maybe Imaishi is a Cyberpunk stan since the 80s and wanted nothing more than to create his own version of the stuff. We can only induce, but what actually matters is the result and what transpires in it. And this show tells the story of an animation studio with a very, very distinctive style that had to go out of its comfort zone.
Technically, the show is supremely impressive. Very detailed and creative backgrounds - a bit too lens-flarey and busy to my taste but I can respect that it was needed to portray such an ultra-urban landscape. Yoh Yoshinari also crafted very stylish chara-designs (my personal favorite being Rebecca, she's also the most Trigger-looking character), and I'm always amazed at how Trigger manages to animate such sophisticated designs seemingly effortlessly. The overall esthetics really reminded me of Redline, so much that I expected Koike to be hidden somewhere in the staff (let's also not forget that Imaishi worked on Redline and Trava: Fist Planet). There's not a whole lot of CG, but when there is the rigidity of the models is often used in a cartoonish, effective way, which is a good move in my opinion, works like a charm. The animation part is harder to describe, in part due to Hiroyuki Imaishi's idiosyncratic animation style which can be as "cheap" as it is effective, fun, stylish and downright hilarious. Yet when he decides to go full money-shot, oh boy. And you can find all of that in Edgerunners.
But here's the thing: Edgerunners is not a very cartoonish project. Well at times it is, but almost by accident: the vibe ends up like that because that's Imaishi's favorite way to express himself rather than because that's what the scene really "needed" to be tonally consistent. Sometimes the art direction and the animation style clash in a very strange way. As I said, the backgrounds are extremely busy; but so is the hyperactive, ultra-expressive animation style. It took me 2 episodes before I could properly acclimate and really follow what was going on. Not because the show is hard to understand, it's pretty simple actually, but there is so much going on visually and it's pretty fast-paced. Usually Imaishi shows are very expansive and balls to the wall, but the backgrounds are understated just enough to let it breathe; the action might be going crazy but it's always easy to follow and readable. The same cannot be said about Edgerunners. During those episodes I kept thinking that everything looked downright glorious, but without actually feeling much.
Then... the show found its pace: as soon as David got to hang out with the gang. Those were the best episodes (from 3 to 6), the ones where Trigger felt the most comfortable to just be badass, gore and silly, and of course supremely expressive. A pocket coming-of-age-story with a charismatic and synergistic team, with a very effective climax. Amazing stretch of episodes, got me to care about the characters beyond their mere (great) designs. But that's when Edgerunners remembered it was a serious show. Can't say we weren't warned, as Imaishi himself publicly told so before release. I won't go into specifics to keep this review spoiler-free, but I'll say that the moody/mopey/pensive side of C:E is not its stronger side. Trigger/Imaishi shows always have moody moments, and they can be great but as a smaller fraction. Edgerunners is quite desperate at its core, and when the desperation catches up, I think that's when the shows starts to get a bit stale, despite flashes of greatness here and there (especially cyberpsychotic hallucinations).
So overall yes, I did enjoy Cyberpunk: Edgerunners.
For a moment I thought I'd give it a solid 8 (knowing that if I had to rewatch it I'd probably enjoy the first couple episodes more now that I warmed up to the show's presentation). And though I was a bit let down by the last stretch of episodes, I still enjoyed the whole package. But I wouldn't exactly call it a success, as I feel the reason why it wasn't better is probably because it tried to be a Cyberpunk show a bit too much, or at least, to be something else than just a "Trigger show". It probably tried too hard to appeal to a western audience judging by the mostly bland soundtrack (let's just say it wasn't Akira Yamaoka's best feat). Though indeed, the studio managed to pull out extremely impressive visuals, and got really innovative in many ways. When I see some of the stuff they were able to create in this show I'm tempted to risk a "Trigger saving anime again" shoutout. But I think the actual saving will need a more solid project, better suited to the studio's natural strength, using this very technology to do wonders.
Just to be clear, this is not a slight against the Cyberpunk franchise, just an opinion that both parties are limiting each other.
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Sep 17, 2022
Cyberpunk: Edgerunners
(Anime)
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Cyberpunk: Edgerunners is clearly a product of compromise. In the same way that I had to make one step towards the Cyberpunk franchise by watching this anime just because I really enjoy the crazy bastards that made it, Imaishi and more generally studio Trigger had to significantly compromise in order for this project to exist as is.
Don't misunderstand, compromise is not a negative term per se. Many masterpieces were born out of artistic compromise. Hell, anyone even remotely aware of the way anime is made - and aware of the current state of the industry - knows well that nothing gets released without a myriad ...
Reviewer’s Rating: 7
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Sep 26, 2021
Star Wars: Visions
(Anime)
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I don't care too much about Star Wars. I liked the movies enough when I was younger, some less than others. I've never been interested in the extended universe, the lore, or anything else about it really. What I do like though, are shorts compilations. And animation, obviously. I was pleasantly surprised when recently viewing The Animatrix; I like the Matrix movies but didn't think I would care for alternate stories or spin-offs. But turns out The Animatrix was merely an excuse to put out compelling visuals and narratives, experimenting with CGs on a short format, and not that much about "respecting" the original premise.
...
I've been anticipating the release of Star Wars: Visions, expecting just that: imaginative variations on a theme. I've been on various degrees of hype depending on what we knew of the studios and directors beforehand, but there were some surprises for sure.
EPISODE 1 - The Duel - (Takanobu Mizuno / KAMIKAZE DOUGA) The first shot of the episode made me soft-facepalm (a concept I just invented) as the graphics went for a cheesy old-silent-movie type grain. Often a sign of ill-advised nostalgia. I didn't feel very comfortable with the animation as well, as it had a strange "drawing over CG" vibe where you kinda instinctively expected the characters to move in a drawn-animated way (because of the graphics' effects), but then the actual animation is clearly CG. Not really clunky per se, but not very fluid. I also disliked the extremely grey and serious tone, that felt as if it tried to emulate "adultness" real hard. But that is clearly a personal preference, and probably why I don't enjoy s e r i o u s ronin stories for their atmosphere alone... Anyway, as it went along I warmed for the episode a bit; I still don't like some of the esthetic choices, but there are actually a lot of cool visual and cinematic ideas. This was well directed, the action was nicely staged. This was made for an audience that clearly isn't me, BUT it was cool enough. EPISODE 2 - Tatooine Rhapsody - (Taku Kimura / COLORIDO) Here comes the first real disappointment - and the worst episode in my opinion. I usually enjoy the Studio Colorido shorts. They're colorful and refreshing, experimenting whilst keeping a fun side to them. It's a cool studio really, if you happened to dislike this episode please don't give up on them. This episode though... the music was not only boring to my ears, but I felt Kimura failed at giving it any cinematic intensity. This was filmed very blandly. I didn't care for the characters' designs and personnality. Sadly this was a chore to get through. EPISODE 3 - The Twins - (Hiroyuki Imaishi / TRIGGER) Ah, episode 3... By far the one I was anticipating the most, and lowkey the only reason I watched the whole thing in the first place. Leading up to the release my mind went like "I don't care about Star Wars, but if Imaishi's involved tho...". I'm a big Trigger fan and an even bigger Imaishi fan. As someone who especially enjoys what Imaishi's capable of in short formats (Cutie Honey episode 1, SEX and VIOLENCE with MACHSPEED, Dead Leaves...), I was thrilled to see him come back to the shorties. So The Twins was... OK, I guess. I mean, the actual fight scene was nice, there were the Imaishisms I love, but toned down. Yes that's it, the whole episode felt like a watered-down version of Trigger's usual braggadocio. The exposition and build-up to the actual fraternal confrontation failed to interest me. The final slicing was great at least, the destroyed shp shot was beautiful. But I wanted more. Maybe Imaishi didn't want to alienate Disney with his rather extreme and often crude choices? Better than the first ones for sure, but when the credits rolled I was prepared to think of Star Wars: Visions as an overall underwhelming experience. EPISODE 4 - The Village Bride - (Hitoshi Haga / KINEMA CITRUS) So just when I was starting to lower my expectations, the 4th episode surprised me with great world-building, nice sceneries and overall cool esthetic choices. And, spoilers, turns out all episodes remaining were good (and some were great), phew! So much for my growing grumpiness. About The Village Bride: the first time we see the couple hiking though the forest is such a great moment, you can immediately feel that there is some sort of tradition behind the way he transports her, and this tradition is made sensible though the vibrant interactions of the couple. In a few minutes this planet feels alive, and the sweet slice-of-life side is neatly contrasted with the mysterious presence of the other two protagonists. I'm usually not the greatest fan of such coloring and shaping where every element in the scenery feels filtered though an ethereal filter and the shapes end up feeling angular and vague, but Kinema Citrus did it justice in this episode. A good surprise! EPISODE 5 - The Ninth Jedi - (Kenji Kamiyama / PRODUCTION I.G) And as my faith renewed, Star Wars: Visions hits me with what might be the best short of the bunch (top 2 at least). Production I.G shines through and through with this beautifully animated, carefully directed and overall greatly structured story about some wandering Jedis being summoned to receive lightsabers in a time when they went extinct. To those praise I'll add that I actually enjoyed the dub. Sadly, most of Star Wars: Visions' dub was painful to my ears. I don't doubt the dub actors' skills or anything but I've never been able to really enjoy dubbed anime and Visions didn't change my mind about it. But The Ninth Jedi went through with the honors- except for the main young Jedi guy. Aside from that, everything here is beautiful, the fights are great, the chase is great (those frozen lake sceneries, damn). This is one I would particularly like for it to be expanded upon, either on a TV show or in a full-lenght movie. Kudos to Kenji Kamiyama & I.G. EPISODE 6 - T0-B1 - (Abel Góngora / SCIENCE SARU) After watching the very disappointing last Masaaki Yuasa movie (Riding Your Wave) at the theater the week before, I was going into the two Science Saru shorts with of bit of apprehension in my heart. Fool was I, because both are good. And T0-B1 is particularly charming with its first part full of childlike wonder, truly beautiful, shapeshifting, colorful animation (as excepted from Science Saru). This feels like a Star Wars/Astro Boy crossover, with a cute little story at its center. The second part of the short is a heroic battle against a Sith. If felt a bit forced after the first part, like artificial conflit, but it's so well directed and animated that it's forgivable. If I had one gripe against this short it would be that the pacing felt a bit too fast - understandably since Abel Góngora had a lot he wanted to show, but it breaks the immersion at times and some scenes don't feel as intense as they could. But that's really a nitpick on my part, this was a really great short. I would really like to see a future version with twice the runtime. EPISODE 7 - The Elder - (Masahiko Otsuka / TRIGGER) Hey, second Trigger short! I wasn't expecting much after The Twins, but this one was pretty good. Didn't feel at all like a Trigger project though. The first scene had me concerned since it only features the two main characters having a bland discussion in a bland cockpit, but as soon as they land on the planet then the goodness really starts. The environments are magnificent, the textures feel so vibrant... I also loved the way they handled the fight. It was not too showy (it is really Trigger?), a dry fight with few hits but all of them mattered. The narrative reminded me of the way Hidetaka Miyazaki (from the Souls series, Bloodborne, Sekiro...) evokes past greatness by using old decrepit remnants as ominous fragments of the past. As such, the old Sith is a great character. He is fearsome enough whilst being only a shadow of his former self. That leaves us to imagine what ancient Sith power might look and feel like. Great storytelling technique. EPISODE 8 - Lop and Ochō - (Yuki Igarashi / GENO) When I saw the Disney+ preview, I thought this would be trash. Probably because because of my bias against furry character designs (which doesn't mean anything since I liked Beastars, BNA and Odd Taxi, but old habits die hard). And what a fool was I (again!), as this ended up being my other favorite of the bunch. Stellar production overall, it feels like they poured a whole movie budget into those 19 minutes. Each shot transpires high effort and dedication. The character design is amazing as well (I thought it wasn't at first, but that's actually because the sister dub actor is super annoying, her design is actually gorgeous), the sceneries and environments are painfully beautiful and detailed. We don't learn much about the actual planet, apart from the conflict with the Empire, but so much is made vibrant and alive through those backgrounds. It truly made me want to see this becoming a full series or a full film. Top 1 or 2 of the whole bunch. EPISODE 9 - Akakiri - (Eunyoung Choi / SCIENCE SARU) And here comes the last one, and second short from Science Saru, directed by none other than Eunyoung Choi, co-founder of the studio along with Masaaki Yuasa. Unsurprinsingly, this one is a beauty. Amidst all those realistic-looking animes it feels very refreshing to have Science Saru remind us why animation needs fantasy and flexibility. Looking cartoonish is not a bad thing. Akariri looks quite cartoonish (though not as much as T0-B1) whilst also telling a pretty dark and moody story - despite the comedic duo. The contrast feels quite nice, the oniric scenes (what seems at first like PTSD hallucinations from the Jedi protagonist) are very well rendered - the Studio excels at that -, and the unexpected finish was a great idea. This one also calls for a sequel... I'll just finish with adding that the short scene where the cast ride through rain was so beautifully animated it left me actually jaw-dropped. Another good short. So yeah, finishing thoughts. This was surprising in more ways than one. Good and bad surprises, but in the end way more good than bad thankfully. That's why I love shorts, the effort put into this format is really different from conducting a whole TV show, or a full movie. It's often a way for a creator or a whole team to experiment, to go a bit wild, to try things without the pressure of having to develop the concept further. Star Wars: Visions surprised me for sure, but in truth what I deeply wanted was probably to be surprised. Even if it is kind of a mixed bag (let's say it's the opposite of front-loaded), I will remember the good parts with time and forget the bad. Simple as that. PS: Too bad they didn't consult each other about which Star Wars references they were going to use. Hearing the "I have a bad feeling about this" meme on 7 of the 9 shorts was getting a bit tiring.
Reviewer’s Rating: 7
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Jul 9, 2021
Ai Monogatari: 9 Love Stories
(Anime)
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Short film compilations always make for a nice viewing experience. It’s a bit like a style market; brief formats on which directors and animators get to enjoy themselves and go straight to the point. As for Ai Monogatari there are 9 shorts, each adapting a small love story (comedic and/or dramatic depending on the story) created by mangaka Kaiji Kawaguchi.
If I were to order those shorts, I would immediately put 2 of them on top : - « Stop the Time » by Hiroshi Hamasaki (who also directed Texhnolyze among other things). It was one of those moments, a few seconds in and I already knew ... it was gonna be exceptional. From the hallucinated editing to the use of colours. A story about amnesia (or madness?) that gravitates around a small red ear jewel and a crescent mark. As soon as She speaks, her contact is made dizzying by a brief insert shot. As for Him, he stays haggard in his boat as Her hair floats in the wind, terrifying as black snakes. - « Those Were the Days » by Takashi Anno (director of Yokohama Kaidashi Kiko’s first OVA), with its characteristic fade outs, fugitive cutaway inserts that imprints on the retina the nostalgic image of a past that has yet to come in the story, the plot presented as a puzzle, plays on lights and the inexplicable, peaceful beauty of this blood pouring in soft geysers. And cherry on cake: a post-mortem moment just like an ending, where Anno creates a sort of experimental clip while Mary Hopkin softly sings the eponymous jazz song. Images flash and twinkle – a trick he will use 5 years later on the YKK OVA. I admit I shivered. I would also highlight « White Christmas » (by Iku Suzuki), full of a tension that produces a lot of staging ideas, and this conclusion where everything suddenly calms down to the dragging rhythm of the slowest of all Christmas carols. « Hero » is great as well, thanks to the great Koji Morimoto who animates some great rugby scenes. « Lion and Pelican » (Koji Sawai) is certainly the most « animated » of all those films, maybe to a fault at times. Characters seem to be constantly on the verge of melting. Anyways, a memorable stylistic venture. « I Wanna Hold Your Hand » is a simple yet pretty love story with a missed timing and a soundtrack by you-know-who. Great beach scene, with hands that never meet. As for « Betrayal in the City », it goes on a way more tongue-in-cheek fashion, using mostly split-screens to show a guy’s internal monologues as he hatches a plan to break up with his gal. Both are directed by Tomomi Mochizuki. « Let’s Spend the Night Together » (Mamoru Hamatsu) is fun and notably offers lots of great car animation as the bulk of the story happens as a yakuza pursuits a young couple across town. Characters are particularly expressive as well. You can tell that they didn’t have the rights for the original song of the Rolling Stones though… « I Can’t Stop Loving You » (Hidetoshi Omori) is the only one I definitely won’t remember. Nothing remarkable really, apart from maybe the interesting design of the lead female character.
Reviewer’s Rating: 7
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Jul 5, 2021
SSSS.Dynazenon
(Anime)
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Let’s address right away a concern many newbies may legitimately have about the SSSS-verse (now that it is indeed a –verse), that is: can you watch Dynazenon without having watched Gridman? I asked myself that same question the day Dyna aired, having never seen (or heard much anything about) Grid at that time. I ended up watching 3 episodes of Dyna first and then binged Grid before going any further. So my answer would be: you don’t *need* to watch Gridman before Dynazenon, per se; even if the latter happens in the former’s future, both scripts have superficial overlaps. In terms of plot anyway (minus
...
2 characters). Having said that, I do advise for watching Gridman first. When Amemiya (director) and Hasegawa (writer) first created Gridman, they did not imagine any sort of sequel. As such, that show operates in a closed circuit. It pays obvious hommage to the 90s live action series it is based on of course (and it references other Trigger/Gainax shows but that’s just a Trigger thing), but that’s it. Dynazenon on the other hand, can’t fake amnesia. It knows Gridman exists, and you can tell the staff asked themselves the question of how can this show exist on its own whilst also being aware that this other, very similar show, also exists in the same creative realm. So even if the plot is not (much) concerned with its predecessor’s, Dyna enjoys making numerous subtle nods to Grid, whether it is by repeating/reusing shots, sceneries, storytelling tricks, or the opposite: subverting elements that were present in Grid that you expected to go the same way. In order to solve some of the numerous Dynazenon mysteries, hardcore theorists will even use Gridman’s lore in order to elaborate various hypotheses. In many ways, the existence of Gridman enriches the experience of watching Dynazenon.
Shorter version of the above paragraph is: if you don’t want to bother watching Gridman in order to watch Dynazenon you don’t have to. But you should ;) As I said, Gridman was kind of a close circuit. There was mystery of course, but one didn’t need to go any further than the sole show in order to look for all the necessary clues and keys. Mostly through details that might be invisible or seem trivial at first glance. Comparatively, Dynazenon takes pleasure in telling only parts of the story. Yup, some plot points won’t find any clear explication within those 12 episodes. Well, feel free to tap into Gridman’s fertile soil to elaborate any conjecture, or hope that the announced crossed sequel will eventually answer everything… But while watching Dynazenon, we quickly understand that it does not give to the sacrosanct PLOT the same importance as most shows do ; it much prefers pure character development. Gridman was something of a social experiment, in the sense that its characters (minus Akane), as lovable as they end up to be, started as blank cardboard signs with a quickly-drawn unidimensional personnality trait placed on them. What made them grow into fleshed-out characters was the way they interacted with each other, pressured by the Kaiju Menace, and the way those interactions were very subtly and realistically portrayed on screen. The only « real » character was Akane. The only one with an actual history and past, with trauma and stuff. In Dynazenon, all the characters are real humans, each one having to live through social anxiety, existential crisis, crushing regrets, unfathomable loss… You could say that in retrospect they’re a bunch of potential Akane-s, and the only reason why they didn’t decompensate the way she did was precisely because – thanks to Gouma – they found each other and united through a purpose – albeit a temporary one, serving as proof that there is indeed a thing those social outcast can do in order to exist within society (quite a normative discourse if you think about it huh). You could imagine 4 parallel Gridman seasons with the antagonist being one of the four human protagonists… Now that’s how you milk a franchise guys. But I digress. I’d say Dynazenon does its characters and human interactions in general so much justice that it should be given a pass for treating the rest with less detail. But is all this really *that* important in regard to what makes the show immediately fascinating? I’m talking about what can be felt in the instantaneity of a precise framing, a shot that lasts just a tad longer than what you’d expect, an incisive cut, the bareness of the soundtrack outside of the mecha fights… I’m talking about a rightness in the tone, an emotional adequacy, that is pretty close to what a certain Hideaki Anno fellow was possessed by when directing Neon Genesis Evangelion (have you heard of that one?). That directiorial feeling was already very much there in Gridman, perhaps even more obviously so than in Dynazenon, but in Dyna this style takes an even more patient and humane turn, if anything. We feel in our bones and through our senses the stakes and troubles of the characters before we understand them ; those are sensible and kinegenic before being analyzable and ready to be disposed on a nice & clean narrative board. We owe this rightness to the directing and supervising of Akira Amemiya (and to the myriad of episode directors who got the job done), Trigger’s secret weapon, emancipating more and more from Imaishi’s ominous shadow, as well as to the writing of Keiichi Hasegawa, who sculpts evermore minimalistic dialogues – I’d even say reductionist. Most times you only need a few words delivered in a monotone whisper to say a lot whilst drawing the outline of a much bigger, unspoken truth. The silent cross we all have to bear. Just like in Gridman, the seiyuus deliver with mindblowing finesse. For someone who is so quick to describe himself as inexperienced and unaware of the rules of directing, Amemiya confirms that he is a impressive choice-maker and an eclectic tone-setter (or is it the other way around). For much like its big brother, Dynazenon intersects its human study with pure CG greatness, grandiose fights that have only gotten cleaner (on the technical side) since 2018. The Toys ’R’ Us aspect has been highlighted even more by the use of a plastic dino design for the main mecha. All in all, it’s amazing to get reminded that all this richness comes from the juvenile fantasy of getting toys from the creators’ childhood resurrected and blown into epic proportions. Of course, Dynazenon does not provide the same feeling of satisfaction and closure that Gridman did offer. Even if the characters manage to get to the end of their arc, a lot of things are left unanswered. We emerge pensive, if not confused. That is what keeps me from rating it exactly as high as its big bro. But when I think about it, it feels strangely appropriate. Because at the end of the day Dynazenon is a work that is much more « horizontal » than Gridman, richer as well in a sense – and one that will get a sequel that might (and also might not) complete it. Less high but broader, more extensive. We probably shouldn’t measure them according to the same coordinates. One would need a new scale. Here, Amemiya sketches a gripping attempt to get out of the Gainax Drill paradigm that was built some 14 years ago by one Gurren Lagann. Maybe it is a sign that Trigger’s future might just be a bit less linear (and vertical!) that what was foretold.
Reviewer’s Rating: 8
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May 13, 2021
Ankoku Shinwa
(Anime)
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Imagine my surprise as I stumbled on The Dark Myth while browsing through Takashi Anno's resume, a director whose unique and eccentric directing skills fascinates me to no bound (he's responsible for Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou's first OVA, The Hakkenden pt.1, Spirit of Wonder: Shounen Kagaku Club, Youma, Miracle Girls, parts of Maison Ikokku, and some other obscure Magical Girls I just can't wait to watch, that is if I ever find the time...).
Imagine my surprise, again, coming here and discovering the existence of The Dark Myth, aka one of the lowest average I've seen on this website, directed by one of my all-time favorite directors. ... Thank to y'all damn memers, I then decided I'd stay away from what seemed like a laughing stock of an anime. Then eventually, more than one year later, I finally gave it a shot. Unsurprisingly it was great. Just like most of Anno's work, it was somewhat clumsy, somewhat cheap (for God's sake, give that man a real budget already), but also somehow a fascinating piece of outsider art with strokes of genius. I'll adress the elephant in the room: yes, the almost constant flow of verbious exposition is annoying. Well to be fair it's more than that; it is inescapable, it is suffocating. Probably even moreso in the horrible English dub I've watched. At times it is more or less justified, but mostly it happens without warning, a random dude opens his mouth and then you're in for a flow of poorly articulated, confusing lore about ancient legends. Exposition in this OVA is not conveyed through animated representations of what is contained in the legends; rather, we're either presented with drawings, abstract symbolism or the scene just continues normally as the character speaks. I get why most viewers would stop taking the show seriously as soon as they are confronted with that. Maybe the only reason I didn't embark on the hater bandwagon after the 5 first minutes is that I already had a strong motivation to watch it and suspend my disbelief, as they say. Ultimately I think not having animated legends is kinda cool, it keeps history as purely oral tradition, you'll never know or see what actually happens. It's not immediately visually entertaining, but it surely is interesting in the long run. But in any case, the show has much to offer beyond annoying exposition (and unpleasant chara-design) and I'll try to present some of its best features. [The rest of this review is carelessly spoiling the plot] Basically I'll just be praising Takashi Anno's style and the way it is used to convey the script of The Dark Myth. Overall this OVA has great directing. Anno's works are never perfect (minus YKK's 1st OVA); the chara-design is often awkward, some scenes are clearly clumsily animated, the narration is often confusing... It often makes for a weird first impression and the start of DM is no stranger to that rule. Anno has a very singular way of cutting scenes, making abrupt - sometimes seemingly random - transitions. It helps create confusion... as well as mystery. DM is about a random kid that slowly discovers he's the reincarnation of an old God, being the final piece in a very intricate and complicated puzzle. We're probably as annoyed as he is with the way all those characters come to him to blabber mythical nonsense. If we're suffocated by exposition, imagine how he must feel. I'd say it's appropriate. Amidst this flow of jabbering, we'll see those characters slowly lose their humanity and sanity. See for example that scene where Kakuchiko forces Takashi to give him the other half of the golden artifact that summons Susanoah-oh. Rocks start to fly around, killing some of Kakuchiko's clan members. The chief is distressed at first, but stops as soon as he sees the scriptures written on one of the stones that just killed his friend. He starts reading and getting into that good ol' exposition vortex, no more does he pay any attention to the body squashed by that piece of rock. It's somewhat hilarious, but also morbid and shiver-inducing. Just after that, monster-ghosts start genociding the clan, in a short and beautifully animated and designed fight scene (you can feel it's the same guy that directed the amazing opening scene of The Hakkenden). Horror and death flow at high speed, flesh becomes nothing more than soft pudding waiting to be blown apart by the mere touch of the ghosts - and all the while Takashi just stares silently at the statue of Susanoah-oh, unconcerned by the massacre. Takashi Anno shows a great fascination - I'd even say a deep respect - for nature, natural phenomenon, and generally for everything that happens outside of human control. Sometimes he uses those to highlight emotions, plot elements, or whatever, and at other times it feels like nature appears on its own, at random - exactly how it should. Anno is one of the directors that understands and illustrates that the best. If you watched Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou you know what I'm talking about, but it appears in his other historical/horror OVAs like Hakkenden or Youma, in the soft-science OVA Shounen Kagaku Club and even in Miracle Girls. The easiest way to illustrate this is to pay attention to the way Anno uses lighting in general. A huge cloud that randomly obscures the characters as the speak; the soft light of street lamps caressing Takashi's sleeping body; the treasure hunter's flashlight that seems to cut through deep in the rocks; the way the sunset bends the shadows of Kakuchiko and his friend; the way Anno vividly cuts lightning shots... At times those evoke the sentiment that humans are merely third party protagonists at the mercy of natural phenomenons. It's not hard to see how those shots conveys atmosphere in a mystical setting such as this one. (It has to be noted that The Dark Myth has plenty of great dark shots, the coloring of night sceneries, caves and such, are great.) Something as simple as human shadows being projected on round rocks (in the scene where Takashi and Takeuchi stand before the rock-like eggs) and the way its shapes and curves get deformed becomes an unsettling sight. Takashi's shape gets the most deformation while Takeuchi stays normal. This is not fantastical, it's just the way shadows naturally appear when projected on rocks, but this simple shot suggests the internal deformity of the now haunted Takashi, trapped in the claws of an obscure prophecy and already on the way to losing part of his humanity, developing snake-shaped marks on his body. Takeuchi on the other hand is the monolith that has lived several centuries thanks to rock hibernation (or something), he stays exactly as he was centuries ago, his mission remains the same as ever, his shadow appears intact, human-shaped as you'd expect. Great effort are made in rendering such seemingly random elements. It is indeed a recurring quality in Anno's work, and it makes the world feel so much more tangible, despite the animation in The Dark Myth being mostly clunky. I'd say if you're trying to set atmosphere in a lovecraftian horror and mystery show, you'd better get attached to picturing small eerie elements rather than making epic gestures. The Dark Myth has been criticized for being too slow, but it's not that simple. Indeed it is slow-paced, but: 1. that's an efficient way of setting "atmosphere" 2. Takashi Anno won't let you rest for too long, as he's very prone to insert lightning-fast cuts amidst contemplative shots. And once you've experienced that you know you're never fully safe from surprise and horror, as it might hide in the most lowkey places. The slow shots become that much more ominous, aquiring a more "physical" quality to them, a weight that might slowly evolve into dread. Anno is an experimental director, sometimes prone to let pure visual abstraction override more traditional narration, adding to the feel of mystery, wandering through a world we don't really know the rules of. One thing remarkable about those visual breakthroughs, is that they are scarcely presented with mannerism. They don't feel forced, epic, grandiose; most of the time these just... happen, naturally. And one of the way he does this is by using minimal sound effects, sometimes even mere silence. Take for example the strange walk of Hayato into the forest, following Takashi as he's entered into a trance. Hayato just disappears softly, then reappears further down the road, then does it again. With no reason other than to create a soft, non-emphasized strangeness. That's probably what makes them so powerful and puzzling, they don't feel detached from reality, rather they fit right in. They are just part of the world and the viewer can't just rationalize them, we just accept it. It is as unsettling as it is subtle. It is quite the opposite though, with pure horror scenes, which are more ostentatiously highlighted with sound effects, screams, sudden gory shots, deformations animated with care. According to Anno's directing, horror should not be understated, but the subtle way of magic in nature should have a discreet glow. Making art is surely displaying your views about the world in your esthetics. As with all of the works I've seen of Takashi Anno, The Dark Myth expresses a strong sensibility on life, one that can be expressed on magical girls show as well as in lovecraftian horror, or in a contemplative post-apocalyptic countryside series (:eyes:). Ain't that a sign of genius? I am surely not denying The Dark Myth's faults, the shots that just don't work because they're too cheap, nor will I deny some specific parts were hilarious, or that the plot was definitely too confusing even with all the f***** explanations. But I'd say the great parts overwhelmed the bad parts and I suggest you try to take it seriously, you might just be rewarded. And yeah, that goes without saying but you should try more of Takashi Anno's strange but intense filmography. He's one of the forgotten and this is nothing short of tragic. NB: here's a small list of great scenes: - Takashi going home to see his mother taken hostage; the lights, the shadows, the shot compositions are all beautiful - Takashi traveling whilst in a trance and all we see is him wandering in white spaces, his silhouette being cutted by invisible environment; train doors, shapes of people and furniture, branches and grass... I've never seen anything like this in anime - The bathing scene, introduced by an abstract underwater view of the naked lady, followed by the horrific transformation - The Kikuchi clan gets beautifully decimated by ghosts (I adressed this one already) - Kikuchiko getting killed by Takashi, then the latter gets engulfed in a ray of golden light and vanishes in front of Hayatou. There's a strange surreal feel to this scene, the colours as always are beautiful, the fountain never ceases to pour, indifferent to the drama - The treasure hunter's car getting highjacked in a dimension made of black and white stripes, the car turns slowly, revealing Takashi as smoothly as if he'd been pulled out of a magician hat, the car gets crushed seemingly by pure darkness... great trippy scene
Reviewer’s Rating: 8
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Sep 18, 2016
NHK ni Youkoso!
(Anime)
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Warning : This is not really an organised review of the show. It's neither clear nor concise. It rather became kind of a half-coherent, neurotic, incomplete essay mainly focusing on the infinite richness that NHK ni Yousoko's discourse has to offer and on Satou's character. Also I'm spoiling a whole lot in this, so consider yourself warned. Anyway this paper will rather provide thinkpieces for people that already know the show quite well, inviting them to go deeper. You can now swallow you xanax pill and get started.
NHK ni Yousoko introduces itself with a premise that may make one wonder about where it's gonna go from ... there: Satou has been a “hikikomori” for three years now – meaning he does not get out of his flat except when there's a vital need to get groceries, is afraid by the simple thought of having to have contact with anyone and feels contrived by the social pressure the japanese society puts on his shoulder. If anything this show leaves us expecting something dark, murky and desperate. And we all know these japanese guys like a good ol' I-feel-like-killing-myself-after-watching-that show from time to time. In fact the anime is willingly sleazy at times, often pessimistic and even sometimes abject. But it's not that simple though: NHK ni Yousoko is also full of humor. It doesn't forget that even at the lowest times (mainly at the lowest times) there's always the need, the vital necessity to find something to laugh at. To rebound, to retaliate at the face of misery, to avoid offering yourself as tribute in the hands of anguish and void. To stay alive. And let's give it away: the greatest strenght of the serie is probably to manage these comical spins to extract itself from darkness to continue its deepening of its social and personal themes and elaborate its purpose without giving up to cheap and uncalled murkiness for the sole purpose of giving away human misery as a show for a blood-thirsted audience. _________________ 1st wandering - Show me you buddies and I'll tell you who you are The big question the show seems to ask is the following : “what's a hikikomori?”. But the one it is answering to would rather be “who is Satou?”. Satou is not depressed. Satou is not paranoid either. And finally, Satou isn't really oppressed by a close environment that's forcing him to have a certain lifestyle. But then, you'd ask, Satou is still a recluse, frightened by social interactions – and when he panics he speaks with its house furniture. But the way the show progresses makes it easier to understand and identify what is really problematic for our anti-hero. We get this by learning to know the people that Satou becomes friend with. These others characters are – by the way they impersonate specific issues – the ones that inform us about what Satou is suffering from. Or rather what he does not suffer from... Satou seems paranoid. And well he probably might be if he was not too busy being too lost to be able to engage in any particular direction. But the episodes that bring his senpai Hitomi into the story let us know that Satou is not the one inventing those absurd conspiracy theories. It's none other than Hitomi that truly believe in this shit and that chick is a real nutcase. While Satou is constantly hesitating and not really consistent in his delusions, Hitomi is shown as a strongly resolved character. Conspiracies are everywhere, there's no other explanation for life. She is calm and seems very confident. She lives with the insurance (and the resignation) of a person that knows a truth that she is the only one to be aware of. When Satou speaks about conspiracy, it's in a ludicrous way – either thanks to a directing trick or because of Satou's erratic behavior. But when Hitomi speaks about it, she's cold and dead serious. Until the collective-suicide arc (where Satou rushes once more without thinking into something to which he doesn't understand anything), wherein from the 4 candidates to group self-termination Hitomi is the only one that stays firmly resolved until the very end. And if Satou ends up trying to jump, it is not because of some firm resolve but because it's the first thing solution that comes to his mind to avoid the frustration and shame of having been deceived during this whole arc, and to avoid having the life he fantasized with Hitomi shattered before his eyes. When you hear or read about hikikomorism (is that even a word?), you often hear people talking about social pressure as a possible cause for the syndrome. It's a well-known fact that the expectations of society and family in Japan can be quite phenomenal. But is Satou really feeling this pressure ? He may speak about it from time to time, but then again isn't it some ready-made sentences he heard here and there (probably on TV since he spends most of his time at home in front of a screen). After all his parents are treating him, giving him money thanks to the state's help, and the serie doesn't explicitly tells us that they are harassing him in any way – even though we can see Satou having a hard time when he learns that his mom is on her way to visit him. He seems actually quite free to live his life the way he decides. But there's one character in the show that will have his life taken in charge by forces beyond his control: Yamazaki. Satou's neighbor, blowhard and angry otaku, Yamazaki will lead Satou into the world of visual novels and thousands of lolis. And while this guy seems pretty confident and all – despite hiw own life issues – the last twist of the show will unveil the true stakes of his character. Yamazaki was the only solid constant of Satou's recent life, even more solid than Misaki towards whom Satou is still feeling ambivalent, and now we learn that was just escaping from his fate. Although he is usually so stubborn and strongly independent, he cannot escape to the call of the country and goes away to replace his injured dad. The break-up is brutal and definitive. This twist in Yamazaki's life doesn't just deeply break our certainties, it also hits the very fragile balance in Satou's life. In this part of the show, he's almost without income, and all he's got left in his life is Misaki. Aaah... Misaki. The smiling Misaki. The ingenue Misaki. The fragile Misaki. The intriguing, incomprehensible Misaki. Angel fallen from the sky to save Satou from his miserable life or selfish and despair-driven jail-keeper? While progressing, the story gives many faces to Misaki. Unknown cute girl with dubious intentions, providential friend, potential lover... the circle breaks a first time when Satou experiences the collapse of the myth he built around their “fortune” meeting. Misaki didn't fall from the sky nope. She's been instead fomenting a plan for a long time from her window up on the hill. A window that leads directly to his room and to the park where they meet every night. Even his own flat is her uncle's property. This myth is given the coup-de-grâce during this brilliantly grotesque scene wherein Misaki confesses with a big shout that she needs her protégé cause he's the only person she knows that's even more miserable and pathetic that she is. As if he wasn't confused enough, Satou is now even more lost than before. The truth is so simple though... and deadly so. Misaki's had a shitty life, from abuses to abandonment. Now that she's turned 17, the only mean she finds to keep herself afloat is to create a “project” for Satou. Well more accurately, for Satou and herself. A contract supposed to link them to each other until death do them part. A contract that could be seen as perverse (since it's contriving Satou into taking care of her under a penalty of 10.000.000 yens) but that seems so pathetic and desperate that it can't be anything but ludicrous. However we don't feel like laughing for once, not at all. Because we feel that the end is coming, we know that it's the poor girl's last chance, the sad ending to their orchestrated relationship. Because we don't have to see Satou's disgusted face to guess the aversion he will show for this proposal that seems so off from what he was expecting. We know then that those two will not find each other. Too much secrecy, too many lies, too much fantasies developed unbeknownst to one another. At this point everything speeds up, the show's twist continuing to take effect; though we thought that we had to be concerned only with the situation of Satou, this idiot proves himself capable to survive this and to go get a job once he's hit bottom rock. While Misaki reacts by leaving the city to die. Now it's up to Satou to go and rescue his so-called savior in a final episode so anthological, so strong and rich and emotional that I'd rather say nothing about it in order to left its impact untouched. So what? Satou's depressed? Blow me. Next to Misaki's true face, he looks like a disoriented and whimsical child. __________________ 2nd wandering : Satou-kun is confused. He hurts himself in his confusion. Satou: "Question: Why would one want to live a hikikomori life? Answer: Because his clothes, his food and his house are guaranteed. Since he always manage to get through it he can allow himself to live like that. Without clothes, food or house you don't have any choice but work. Unless you're prepared to die." I spoke so much about what Satou isn't that I'd almost forgot to unveil the true mystery of his condition. That's not an easy task, cause now that the serie's over and we've arrived at this stage of our train of thought there is but one irrefutable conclusion. One that will probably disappoint you since it seems so obvious and easy : Satou is a human. Wait that's it? That's what all this fuss was about? You made me read that overlong and self-indulgent analysis just to tell me that Satou is humain, you Wazoo bastard?! Yup, exactly. Well. I'm not saying that Satou was NOT human from the start mind you, but by then he was mainly seen as a hikikomori. Then again I'm still not saying that he's not a hikikomori anymore by the end of the show – though he most certainly improved his condition – but what I'm saying is that we've slowly ceased to see him through that social-filter that seemed too custom-made for our guy. Satou says he's a hikikomori. Misaki supports him and help him because he's a hikikomori (and profit from it in the long run). Yamazaki is angry with Satou's hikikomori condition and spends most of his time kicking his ass and giving him stuff to do. Hitomi's also profiting from his situation to lure him in a “suicide mission”. Megumi even goes as far as reconnecting with him because she incidentally learns about him being a hikikomori in order to trap him into a big con. NHK ni Yousoko though, teaches us about the distance between the label and the one wearing it. As a matter of fact Satou himself invokes this status whenever it suits him. For example if he refuses to leave his room because he doesn't want to confront his responsibilities then all he has to do is cry to himself: “Ha! There's no way a hikikomori could get out of his house two days in a row!”. When other characters get surprised by Satou's leaving his room or other unusual behavior they more or less say this : “a hikikomori is not supposed to do this!”. As does Yamazaki near the end of the show when he throws one of his typical harsh lines: “You're forgetting that you ar a hikikomori. It is impossible that a hikikomori would get out and sell stuff.”. That's the snake biting its tail – Satou's close ones cropping him (probably unconsciously) into this morbid category that he finally escaped from. Anyway here we are, the 24th episode is over. Now no one is fooled anymore (at least I hope so) : a hikikomori is a facade. Behind which Satou takes shelter whenever he has to justify his inaction in the eyes of anyone including himself. A facade that others take up the way they want to. A hikikomori is a landmark, a reference point requested by Japanese society to shove in a box those that cannot resolve to get in any other one. For some of you what I just said will probably sound as a hackneyed commonplace, but witnessing how the show treats this subject I will gladly emphasize it. Okay. If we manage to disregard the hikikomori term then what the hell is Satou suffering from? Well, being the good protagonist that he is, Satou is confused. There you go. The word is dropped. It may seem simplistic too although if we really look for the lowest common denominator in Satou's erratic behavior, he really seems to be swimming in a sea of total confusion. Confusion concerning the slightest of his life choices, the least of his actions or feelings. Satou has no idea about what drives him in life and the only prospect of having to care about it terrifies him so much that he has to create farfetched strategies to avoid it. To the point of clumsily evoking the infamous NHK conspiracy for example. And the easiest way of avoiding the confrontation with those existential questionings is to withdraw inside yourself and to keep everything that's bothering you on the outside. Satou's reclusive situation in his flat is nothing but a metaphor for his internal conflicts. He's not afraid of the sun or the crowd, not really. He's rather fearing the way others might look at him. Due to his obsession for postponing the inevitable, he's making a smaller and smaller spot for himself in the middle of the garbage bags symbolizing the responsibilities he left pending in the background. And when you reject with such strength everything that bothers you onto the outside, don't be surprised if said outside starts feeling hostile... Satou is not inactive though. Admittedly he's not doing anything useful for society, but that doesn't mean he's not consumed by the need of doing SOMETHING. His fortune meetings with the other characters will give him the opportunity to do so : becoming a lolicon, taking pictures of school-girls, work on a visual-novel script, sink into an online-game, etc. Because they are governed by the vital and imperious need to get his brain and body busy while avoiding to reflect on his life, those activities are always approached in a way of instinctive and addictive consumption. When he starts looking for sexy pictures of girls on the internet he ends up spending his whole day collecting an enormous quantity of 'em. When he goes on a trip with his senpai he makes a very quick decision without thinking of anything but an absurd fantasy, etc. Not because he's got nothing to do all day long – that's the excuse he gives to justify his sudden ascension on his MMORPG – but because not doing anything all day long would precisely bring the thoughts he tries to ignore on the foreground of his tormented mind. Though is discussion with Megumi's hikikomori brother reveals that maybe it's not too late for him to confront his fears. Beyond the fascinating way that Satou's psyche is depicted in the show, we could add in conclusion to this part that he is the perfect character that allows the series to address a broad specter of social issues. Satou is indeed so confused and manipulable that he can be shown rushing into anything, any kind of situation really, without anything feeling unjustified. If you add the specific talent the creators have to create burlesque then you have the ideal recipe for rich and pathetic over-the-top adventures in sight. ________________ 3rd wandering : Where we address the question of the half-filled prozac tube. We can now directly focus on a question that often comes to the minds of people reflecting on the series : is NHK ni Yousoko pessimistic? It's quite easy to get how the show would be described by some as pessimistic. I mean every character in it goes from failures to bigger failures and there's no guarantee anyone will ever succeed at anything (unlike the vast majority of anime wherein the point is focusing on the way to success). And if the tone of the series is arguably light on the first episodes, the “collective suicide on your dream island” sets the record straight – though it might have been more polished of an arc in my humble opinion, it might be an essential one but some of the characters are lacking in depth and credibility. The deeper we progress, the more serious the thematic becomes. The more we end up believing that resistance is futile. But let's not forget that for each punch in the gut NHK ni Yousoko tries to tickle our zygomatics in the meantime. The “desert island”'s finale scene – while being traumatic for various previously evoked reasons – is also a grotesque projection into caricature (while still maintaining a very realistic directing style). It's one of those key moments when the show challenges us to keep laughing. That's the reason behind all the dark humor in the series: to see up to which point we are capable of laughing at the depressing adventures of Satou & cie. Will the gags & jokes be enough to make us forget the anguish of the last scene? Though I'd have a hard time stating with confidence that NHK ni Yousoko is an optimistic show, there are many ways to counterbalance the alleged pessimism. Now is the time to highlight two characters I voluntarily skipped earlier. For the penultimate arc of the series makes way for new nominees for the prize of Notorious Failures: Megumi and her brother. Starring Satou's ex class-president's desperate attempt to harpoon him into a massive scam in order to allow her to reimburse parts of the debts she contracted when trying to help her brother – also a hikikomori though way more serious than Satou's condition. This arc helps us to understand another thing that Satou is not: he is not beyond saving. He didn't contract a formidable debt and is not neurotic enough to become as mightily powerless as Mergumi's brother – who's fully aware of all the troubles he causes to his sister but can't find the strength to deal with his fears. If Satou didn't have this inhibition that prevents his from moving forward, it wouldn't take more than a few steps in the right direction to make his life balanced again. When those two poor guys enter the show they symbolize Satou's possible future if he doesn't get better. He would become a nuisance for himself and his close ones. The “virtual” discussion between Satou and Megumi's brother is to me one of the emotional heights of the whole show and a precious and valuable source of understanding Satou's condition and state of mind (and of the whole hikikomori notion in general). For our protagonist now even has a character seemingly telling him: here's what I am that you're not. A hikikomori. There's still hope for you. But even then! Even now that the show has set the ultimate standard for despair and hopelessness (and stabbed us in our weakened hope), NHK ni Yousoko indulges itself with a sudden twist. Megumi's con society is seized by justice, her debt is now erased like magic. In the meantime her brother – that was left starving in his room until the point of almost death – finally gets out to beg for some food at the local restaurant and ends up with a job as delivery boy. Foreshadowing Satou's situation in the final episodes. Rather than being just a magic-trick, this part oh the show seems to tell us viewers that if those two guys can survive and get back on their feet... well what's stopping Satou from doing so as well? How pessimistic, right guys? In the same spirit, Hitomi seems stable with her plain-as-f*ck boyfriend – though we may doubt her sincerity, having witnessed all the duplicity she's capable of. Boy she's even expecting a baby! As for Yamazaki, sent against his will in the country and using massive amounts of booze to get acclimated, he's going to be married to a girl he seems to have actual feelings for! In the end there's only Satou left, floundering poorly with his job as a traffic agent but at least he flounders in the right direction. And although he experienced some extreme and uneasy times with Misaki in the very last episode they both came out of it better. Weakened by the sight of their disastrous impulses but strengthened by the acknowledgment of their mutual feelings. They left the series with a saner relationship. Finally, twisting the premise, they both establish themselves as consenting “hostages” for the maleficent NHK organization in order to control their destructive impulses. Satou and Misaki seems to have gain enough hindsight on their delirium to play with and manipulate it to make it a life-insurance. And, finally, they can start recovering. ______________ Final wondering : Alea jacta est Now would be the time to conclude this endless logorrhea don't you think? I didn't even found the time to address the formal qualities of a show I thought was brilliantly directed. I'm not saying it was technically brilliant, as a matter of fact I thought of the animation as very basic and the drawing very very uneven. But the staging and the directing ideas proved to be what was needed to support the series' purpose. It was realistic, with just enough whim in key moments (for example when Satou is having panic attacks the animation suddenly transforms into gripping imagery and nightmarish scenes). The poor drawing even somehow reinforces the shaky edge of those stupid and battered characters we learned to love and hate. The music is bewitching at times and seems fueled by a strange and blissful melancholy, and contributes greatly to the unique atmosphere. I hope I somehow made my case enough somewhere in all those paragraphs. At least enough so it won't feel feel weird if I start screaming at the top of my lungs that NHK no Yousoko is a vital anime. Non only because I recognized myself in some of his reasoning more often than I dare to admit – though I'm really not in this kind of situation – and because I loved hating this stupid coward before slowly getting in tune with his character. But because far from treating an isolated syndrome the show is addressing in its core (and with a unique tone) some universal themes about which everyone is able to relate to. I'm firmly and intimately convinced of that. Take a chance, even if it means emerging disgusted, exceeded or troubled from it. I'll repeat it again, one last time with all the bombast of which I'm capable of : a VITAL series. _________________________________________ FRENCH VERSION : Ceci n'est pas vraiment une critique organisée de la série, elle n'est ni très claire ni concise. C'est plutôt devenu une espèce d'essai à moitié cohérent, névrosé, inachevé sans doute et centré principalement sur l'infinie richesse du propos de Welcome to the NHK et du personnage de Satou. Pour les néophytes de la série je spoile à balle donc soyez prévenus. De toute façon ce papier donnera plutôt du grain à moudre aux connaisseurs de la série pour approfondir les choses. Allez hop on avale son xanax et on est parti ! Welcome to the NHK débarque avec un prémisse qui laisse songeur. Pas rêveur non, plutôt son jumeau cauchemardesque : Satou est un hikikomori depuis maintenant 3 ans, c'est à dire qu'il ne sort pas de chez lui à part pour faire ses courses, est effrayé à l'idée d'avoir un contact avec qui que ce soit et se sent écrasé par la pression sociale qui est mise sur ses épaules de citoyen japonais. C'était bien parti pour être glauque et désespéré comme savent si bien le faire les nippons. D'ailleurs la série sait être volontiers sordide, souvent pessimiste et à l'occasion abjecte. Mais tout n'est pas si simple : Welcome to the NHK est aussi pleine d'humour. Elle n'oublie pas que même dans les plus grands malheurs (surtout dans les plus grands malheurs) il y a toujours le besoin, la nécessité vitale de trouver du risible. Pour rebondir, pour ne pas s'offrir en sacrifice à l'angoisse et au vide. Pour rester en vie. Et donner corps au bon mot plein de sens de Pierre Desproges : « Quelle autre échappatoire que le rire sinon le suicide, poil aux rides ? ». Et disons-le d'emblée, c'est probablement la plus grande force de la série que de parvenir à rebondir par une pirouette comique pour continuer à approfondir ses thématiques sociales et personnelles et élaborer son propos sans virer au glauque pour le seul plaisir pervers de donner la misère humaine en spectacle pour les spectateurs assoiffés de larmes et de sang. __________________ Première errance : Montre moi tes potes et je te dirai qui tu es. La grande question que semble poser la série est la suivante : « qu'est-ce qu'un hikikomori ? ». Celle à laquelle elle répond, du moins en partie, serait plutôt « qui est Satou ? ». Satou n'est pas dépressif. Satou n'est pas non plus paranoïaque. Et Satou, enfin, n'est pas vraiment oppressé par son entourage qui attend de lui un certain style de vie. Mais pourtant, me direz-vous, Satou est reclus chez lui, est effrayé à l'idée de voir quiconque et parle avec son mobilier lors de ses crises de panique. Mais le développement du show permet de mieux cerner ce qui bloque vraiment notre anti-héros. Cela, on le comprend à mesure que l'on voit Satou se lier avec les autres personnages. Ce sont eux, dans les problématiques qu'ils incarnent, qui nous renseignent sur ce dont souffre Satou. Ou plutôt, ce dont il ne souffre pas. Satou paraît parano, et il pourrait sûrement l'être s'il n'était pas trop paumé pour être incapable d'emprunter une route en particulier. Mais les épisodes qui font intervenir sa senpai Hitomi laissent entendre qu'il ne tient ses théories conspirationnistes que de cette nana, qui elle est une vraie cinglée en la matière. Là où Satou est constamment hésitant et peu consistant en la matière, Hitomi donne l'image d'une personne résolue. Les conspirations sont partout, il ne peut en être autrement. Calme et d'apparence sûre d'elle, Hitomi vit avec l'assurance de celle qui connait une vérité dont personne n'est conscient. Lorsque Satou parle de conspiration, c'est sous l'angle du risible aussi bien par effet de mise en scène que par le comportement du personnage ; lorsque Hitomi évoque le sujet, c'est avec un sérieux glacial. Jusqu'à l'arc du suicide collectif, où une fois de plus Satou fonce tête baissé dans quelque chose auquel il ne comprend rien, parmi les 4 candidats à l'autolyse de groupe Hitomi demeure la seule à être fermement résolue. Si Satou a cette impulsion finale de sauter à sa perte, ce n'est pas à cause d'une quelconque résolution ferme, mais parce que c'est la première chose qui lui passe par la tête pour éviter la frustration et la honte d'avoir été mené en bateau, on me pardonnera l'expression, durant tout cet arc, et pour éviter de voir sa vie fantasmée avec Hitomi voler en éclat. Une cause souvent évoquée lorsqu'on évoque le pourquoi du syndrome hikikomori est la pression sociale. On le sait bien, au Japon, que les attentes de la société et de l'entourage peuvent être assez faramineuses sur le pauvre citoyen. Mais Satou a-t-il vraiment cette pression ? Il peut sans doute l'évoquer à quelques reprises, mais là encore ne s'agit-il pas de phrases toutes faites qu'il a entendu à droite à gauche, probablement à la télé devant laquelle il passe une bonne partie de son temps ? Après tout ses parents l'entretiennent sans qu'il soit fait mention dans la série d'une quelconque attente de leur part envers leur fils – bien que Satou se mette occasionnellement la pression lorsque sa mère décide de venir lui rendre visite. En l'état, il est relativement libre de faire ce qu'il veut de sa vie. En revanche, il y a bien quelqu'un qui va voir sa vie être prise en main par quelqu'un d'autre : Yamazaki. Voisin de Satou, otaku vantard et colérique, il va entrainer Satou dans le monde des visual novels et des lolis par milliers. Et s'il apparaît sûr de lui en toutes circonstances, malgré ses propres complexes et misères amoureuses, le dernier tournant de la série nous fera découvrir les véritables enjeux de son personnage. Lui qui apparaissait comme la seule constante solide de la vie récente de Satou, plus solide finalement que Misaki envers qui Satou entretient des sentiments ambivalents ; le voilà qui dévoile qu'il ne faisait qu'échapper depuis tout ce temps à un destin tout tracé qui finit par le rattraper. Appelé à la ferme pour prendre le relai de son père souffrant, obligé de se soumettre au désir parental – lui qui est d'ordinaire si borné et indépendant –, la rupture est brutale et définitive. En plus de nous déstabiliser profondément en remettant nos certitudes en cause, ce virage de la vie de Yamazaki terrasse l'équilibre précaire de Satou. Qui, quasiment privé de revenus à ce stade de la série, n'a alors plus que Misaki pour le maintenir à flot. Aaah... Misaki. La souriante Misaki. L'ingénue Misaki. La frêle Misaki. L'intrigante, incompréhensible Misaki. Ange descendue des cieux pour sauver Satou de sa vie misérable, ou bien geôlière égoïste en proie au désespoir ? La progression du scénario vient donner de nombreux visages à Misaki. De l'inconnue aux intentions douteuses on passe par l'amie providentielle, la potentielle amante... un premier cycle se brise lorsque Satou vit la chute du mythe de leur rencontre. Misaki n'est pas tombée du ciel non, elle fomente un plan depuis longtemps, depuis sa fenêtre là haut sur la colline, qui donne droit sur la baie vitrée de l'appartement de Satou, appartement dont son oncle est le propriétaire. Doute révélé au grand jour lors de cette scène grotesquement brillante où Misaki avoue à grands cris avoir besoin de son protégé car il est la seule personne de sa connaissance à être plus misérable, plus pathétique qu'elle-même. Comme s'il n'était pas déjà suffisamment confus, Satou sait de moins en moins où donner de la tête. Alors que la vérité est si simple... d'une simplicité mortelle. Misaki a eu une vie de merde, tout y est passé des abus aux abandons. Alors qu'elle atteint ses 17 ans, le seul moyen qu'elle trouve pour se maintenir à flot est de préparer un « projet » pour Satou. Enfin pour Satou et elle. Un contrat qui est censé les lier tous les deux jusqu'à ce que la mort les sépare. Un contrat qui aurait pu s'avérer pervers vu qu'il oblige Satou à prendre soin de Misaki sous peine de lui devoir une somme de 10.000.000 yens, mais qui perle tellement le pathétique qu'il ne peut être autre chose que risible. Pourtant, pour une fois, on n'a pas envie de rire. Parce qu'on sent bien qu'on arrive au bout, que c'est la dernière chance de la jeune fille, le triste aboutissement de la relation qu'elle a « orchestrée » avec Satou. Parce qu'on a pas besoin de voir la réaction dégoûtée de Satou pour deviner l'aversion qu'il affichera pour cette proposition en complet décalage avec ses propres attentes. On sait alors, avec certitude, que ces deux-là ne se trouveront pas. Trop de cachotteries, de mensonges, de fantasmes développés à l'insu de l'autre. Alors tout s'accélère et le twist de la série poursuit son office ; alors qu'on pensait devoir se soucier avant tout de la situation préoccupante de ce bougre d'âne de Satou, celui-ci s'avère capable de survivre à ses échecs successifs dès lors qu'il atteint le fond du fond, et de se bouger pour trouver un job – ingrat, mais c'est déjà ça. Misaki en revanche, une fois confronté à cette impasse, s'en va mourir au loin. C'est alors à Satou qu'il incombe de tenter de sauver sa pseudo-sauveuse dans un épisode final si anthologique, si fort et riche en retournage de boyaux émotionnel que je préfère ne rien en dire pour ne pas en dénaturer l'impact. Alors quoi ? Satou, dépressif ? Mon œil. À côté du vrai visage de Misaki, il donne l'air d'un gamin désorienté et capricieux. __________________ Satou-kun est confus. Il s'inflige des dégâts. Satou : « Question : Pourquoi vouloir vivre une vie de hikikomori ? Réponse : parce que ses vêtements, sa nourriture et sa maison lui sont garantis. Vu qu'il trouve toujours un moyen de s'en sortir, il peut se permettre de continuer à vivre comme ça. Sans vêtement, sans nourriture ou maison, tu n'as pas d'autre choix que de travailler, à moins de te préparer à mourir. » À force de parler de ce qu'il n'est pas, on en oublierait presque de lever le voile sur la véritable condition de Satou. Pas simple car une fois la série finie, et à ce stade de la réflexion, on ne peut arriver qu'à une seule conclusion, qui vous paraîtra peut-être décevante tant elle semble éculée et facile : Satou est humain. Tout ça pour ça ? Ouais, tout ça pour ça. Ce n'est pas qu'il n'était pas humain au début de la série, c'est plutôt qu'il était hikikomori. Là encore, ce n'est pas non plus qu'il cesse de l'être à la fin de la série – quoique sa condition se soit améliorée – mais plutôt qu'on cesse de le voir à travers ce filtre qui semblait avoir été trop parfaitement taillé pour lui. Satou dit qu'il est un hikikomori. Misaki le « prend en charge » parce qu'il est un hikikomori (pour en tirer profit sur le long terme). Yamazaki est révolté par sa condition de hikikomori et passe le plus clair de son temps à lui remonter les bretelles et lui donner des trucs à faire. Hitomi aussi tire profit de sa situation pour l'attirer avec elle dans une « mission suicide ». Megumi va jusqu'à renouer contact avec lui parce qu'il est un hikikomori pour l'attirer dans une arnaque. Seulement toutes ces péripéties nous ont montré la distance qu'il existe entre l'étiquette et celui qui la porte – contre son gré ou non. Satou lui-même invoque ce statut quand ça l'arrange ; s'il refuse de sortir de chez lui pour affronter ses responsabilités il n'a qu'à s'en décharger en se criant à lui-même : « Ha ! Il n'y a aucune chance pour qu'un hikikomori sorte de chez lui deux jours d'affilée ! ». Lorsque les personnages s'étonnent de ses faits et gestes, eux-même ont plus ou moins cette formulation : « un hikikomori n'est pas censé faire ça » (par exemple lorsque Satou se met à sortir naturellement de chez lui sans se rendre compte que c'est anormal). À l'image de Yamazaki balançant en fin de série une de ses vacheries habituelles : « Tu oublie que tu es un hikikomori. Il est impossible qu'un hikikomori sorte pour vendre des trucs ». C'est le serpent qui se mord la queue, les proches de Satou qui le recadrent sans s'en rendre compte dans cette catégorie mortifère dont il s'était enfin momentanément échappé. Enfin voilà, le 24ème épisode est fini, maintenant plus personne n'est dupe (je l'espère) : un hikikomori c'est une façade. Derrière laquelle Satou s'abrite lorsqu'il doit justifier son inactivité, et dont les autres se saisissent pour en faire ce qu'ils veulent. Un hikikomori, c'est un point de repère qu'exige la société nippone pour mettre dans une case ceux qui ne peuvent se résoudre à entrer dans les autres. Pour certains, ce que je viens d'écrire sonnera sans doute comme une banalité éhontée, mais vu la manière dont en traite la série c'est avec plaisir que j'insiste dessus. Bon, si on fait abstraction du terme, il est quoi finalement Satou ? Eh bien en bon protagoniste, il est confus. Le mot est lancé. Il paraît simpliste lui aussi, mais pourtant si on cherche le plus petit dénominateur commun au comportement erratique de Satou, c'est bien qu'il semble nager dans la plus totale confusion. Confusion à propos du moindre de ses choix de vie, de la moindre de ses actions, du moindre de ses sentiments. Satou n'a aucune idée de ce qui l'anime dans la vie, et la simple perspective de devoir s'en soucier le terrifie jusqu'à mettre au point des stratagèmes abracadabrantesques. Jusqu'à évoquer maladroitement la conspiration de la NHK, par exemple. Et le plus facile, pour ne pas avoir à affronter toutes les questions existentielles et pratiques que notre monde a à offrir, c'est encore de rester cloîtré en soi et de garder tout à l'extérieur. L'isolement de Satou dans son appartement n'est qu'une métaphore de ses luttes intérieures. Il n'a pas peur du soleil, ou de la foule, enfin pas réellement, il a surtout peur de se confronter au regard des autres ; à force de repousser l'inévitable, de se frayer une place de plus en plus réduite au milieu des sacs poubelles symbolisant ses responsabilités laissées en plan, il se condamne à ce que l'extérieur lui apparaisse de plus en plus hostile. Ce n'est pas pour autant que Satou est inactif. Certes il ne fait rien d'utile à la société, mais ce n'est pas pour autant qu'il n'est pas rongé par le besoin de faire **quelque chose**. Ses rencontres avec les divers persos lui en fourniront l'occasion ; devenir lolicon, photographier des écolières à la sortie du collège, bosser sur un scénario de jeu, partir en voyage, s'enfoncer dans un jeu en ligne... Parce qu'elles sont dictées par la nécessité vitale d'occuper son cerveau et son corps tandis qu'il évite d'avoir à se pencher sur sa vie, ces activités sont toujours abordées sur le mode d'une consommation instinctive et addictive. Lorsqu'il se met à chercher des photos de nanas sur internet il y passe sa journée et collecte inlassablement une énorme collection, lorsqu'il part en voyage avec sa senpai tout juste retrouvée c'est sur une décision prise à la va-vite basée sur des fantasmes absurdes et concoctés à toute vitesse. Etc, etc. Pas parce qu'il n'a rien à faire de la journée, comme il l'invoque pour justifier son ascension soudaine sur son MMORPG, mais parce que ne rien faire ramènerait les interrogations pressantes dont il ne veut rien savoir. Satou est plus que ravi d'avoir quelque chose pour occuper son attention et dans lequel s'engouffrer pour ne plus penser à rien d'autre. Sa discussion avec le frère de Megumi, hikikomori lui aussi – mais à un stade bien plus « profond », « aigu » ou « grave » que Satou – achèvent de faire douter Satou et de le mettre face à l'inavouable : il n'est pas encore trop tard pour qu'il s'en sorte, pour affronter ses peurs. Au delà du caractère psychologique fascinant de la façon dont est traité le personnage de Satou, il est également le sujet parfait pour permettre à la série d'aborder une vaste quantité de sujets et de problématiques ; Satou est tellement manipulable qu'il peut s'engager dans n'importe quoi sans que cela paraisse random ; son caractère et sa problématique permettent de tout justifier. Ajoutons à cela le talent de la série pour le burlesque et voilà de belles et riches aventures pathétiques en perspective... ___________________ Troisième errance : Où l'on cause du tube de Prozac à moitié plein On peut d'ailleurs en venir directement à une question qui vient souvent à l'esprit de ceux qui s'interrogent sur la série : est-elle pessimiste ? Optimiste ? Il est assez facile de voir en quoi on pourrait voir Welcome to the NHK comme une série pessimiste. On passe d'échec en échec, les persos ont une vie de merde et les. Et si le ton est assez léger sur les premiers épisodes, le passage par l'arc « suicide collectif sur l'île de vos rêves » remet vite les pendules à l'heure (quoiqu'il aurait pu être plus marquant et plus soigné à mon humble avis ; pour essentiel qu'il soit, les personnages qui s'y trouvent brossés manquent de relief et parfois même de crédibilité). Plus on s'enfonce dans la série, plus les thématiques évoquées deviennent graves, ou glauques, et plus on se dit qu'il est vain de lutter. Mais ce serait oublier que pour chaque taquet on a le droit à un éclat de rire. La scène finale de l'arc « île déserte », justement, est également une plongée dans un grotesque qui cherche la caricature – tout en gardant un style de réalisation très réaliste – c'est un de ces moments où Welcome to the NHK nous met au défi de rire. C'est ce que fait la série à chaque fois avec son humour noir ; voir jusqu'à quel point on peut rire des aventures en dents de scie de Satou & cie. Est-ce que les gags marcheront, suffiront à nous faire oublier l'angoisse de la scène précédente ? S'il sera difficile d'affirmer avec toute l'assurance du monde que Welcome to the NHK est une série optimiste, on peut tout du moins contrebalancer le pessimisme qu'on lui prête. C'est le moment d'évoquer deux personnages clés laissés (volontairement) de côté jusqu'à présent, et reprendre brièvement l'analyse de personnage faite un peu plus haut. Car l'avant-dernier arc laisse apparaître une nouvelle venue dans le palmarès de ratés notoire : Megumi, et plus tard son frère. Avec « l'arc Megumi », qui montre l'ancienne déléguée de classe de Satou en train de tenter de harponner celui-ci dans une arnaque afin de rembourser des dettes qu'elle-même a accumulé pour venir en aide à son frère (lui aussi hikikomori). Alors on comprend que ce Satou, dont on a déjà établi tout ce qu'il n'était pas ; n'est pas non plus au delà de tout secours. Il n'est pas sous l'emprise d'une dette qu'il ne pourra jamais rembourser, pas plus qu'il n'est si profondément enfoncé dans sa névrose qu'il atteint le niveau d'impuissance du frère de Megumi qui se retrouve à faire souffrir considérablement ses proches tout en en ayant conscience, mais sans trouver pour autant la volonté d'affronter sa peur. S'il n'y avait ce blocage qui empêchait Satou d'aller de l'avant, il suffirait de quelques pas dans la bonne direction pour rétablir un équilibre dans sa vie. Lorsqu'ils apparaissent dans la série, ces deux larrons symbolisent un futur possible qui attend Satou s'il n'améliore pas sa condition. Il deviendrait une nuisance autant pour lui-même que pour ses proches. Le dialogue « virtuel » entre Satou et le frère de Megumi est un des sommets émotionnels de la série, et une source précieuse de compréhension de l'état de Satou et de celui de hikikomori en général. Car finalement, dans ce pénultième chapitre de la série, Satou se retrouve face à un personnage qui semble dire : voilà ce que je suis et que tu n'es pas. Un hikikomori. Pour toi l'espoir est encore permis. Et pourtant, après avoir posé cet étalon de la réclusion et du désespoir comme un coup de poignard dans notre espoir faiblissant, la série s'autorise un revirement de dernière minute. La société qui emprisonnait Megumi est saisie par la justice. La dette de Megumi est effacée. Et au même moment, son frère qui s'apprêtait à mourir littéralement de faim parce que sa sœur n'était plus à la maison pour lui apporter de la nourriture depuis plusieurs jours, sort de chez lui pour aller mendier de la nourriture au restaurant du coin. Et se retrouve du même coup avec un boulot de livreur dans la poche. Comme en prédiction à la situation de Satou dans les épisodes finaux. Ces deux-là finissent par s'en sortir par un improbable coup du sort. Pessimiste, la série ? Si eux peuvent émerger d'une merde si noire, alors qu'est-ce qui nous empêche d'espérer qu'il en soit de même pour Satou ? De même, Hitomi – même si on peut décemment douter de sa sincérité vu la duplicité dont elle est capable – semble s'être stabilisée (résignée?) avec son copain chiant comme la pluie et attendre un bébé. Quant à Yamazaki, envoyé contre son gré chez les bouseux et se plongeant dans l'alcool pour supporter sa vie à la ferme, il clôt la série en annonçant un mariage imminent avec une fille dont il semble amoureux. Il ne reste finalement que Satou, qui patauge certes avec son job pourrave à la circulation, mais au moins il patauge dans la bonne direction. Et s'il a vécu des moments sacrément extrêmes et dérangeants avec Misaki dans le dernier épisode, ils en ressortent tous les deux grandis, à la fois fragilisés par leurs impulsions calamiteuses et renforcés par la réalisation de leurs sentiments réciproques. Ils quittent la série avec une relation bien plus saine qu'au départ. Ultime pied de nez au prémisse, ils s'engagent tous les deux par écrit à se constituer comme « otages » volontaires de la société maléfique NHK pour contrôler leurs pulsions auto-destructrices. Satou et Misaki semblent avoir suffisamment de distance avec leur délire pour en jouer et le manipuler à leur guise pour se créer une assurance vie. Et enfin, comment à se reconstruire. _______________ Errance finale : Alea jacta est Il serait peut-être temps de conclure cette interminable logorrhée, qu'en pensez-vous ? Je n'aurai même pas évoqué les qualités formelles d'un animé que je trouve superbement réalisé. Pas très bien dessiné, ni même bien animé, ses choix de mise en scène cependant épousent parfaitement son propos : réaliste, avec juste ce qu'il faut de fantaisie aux moments clés (lors des crises d'angoisse de Satou l'animation se transforme soudainement, déployant une imagerie saisissante et des scènes cauchemardesques sorties d'on ne sait où). Le trait peu assuré du dessin renforce même, quelque part, le côté branlant de ces personnages un peu crétins et cabossés. La musique elle est envoûtante et teintée d'une étrange mélancolie bienheureuse, qui contribue grandement à donner à la série son atmosphère bien à elle. J'espère en tout cas avoir suffisamment défendu mon cas pour pouvoir crier sur tous les toits que Welcome to the NHK est une série vitale. Pas seulement parce que, sans être du tout dans la situation de Satou, je me suis retrouvé dans beaucoup de ses raisonnements et me suis reconnu bien plus souvent que je n'ose l'admettre, que j'ai adoré détester cet idiot de poltron avant de m'identifier progressivement aux enjeux de son personnage. Mais parce que, bien loin de traiter d'un syndrome isolé, la série aborde en son cœur et avec un ton unique, des thématiques universelles au rythme desquelles tout un chacun est capable de vibrer, j'en suis intimement convaincu. Pour peu qu'on laisse de côté sa mauvaise foi, quitte à ce qu'on en ressorte excédé, écœuré ou troublé. Je le répèterai une dernière fois, avec toute l'emphase dont je suis capable ; une série vitale.
Reviewer’s Rating: 9
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Sep 16, 2016
One Punch Man
(Anime)
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Not Recommended
« Well that was lame... I kinda had my hopes up too. »
This quote is not coming from me ; the one saying it is Saitama himself - OPM's main protagonist and « hero » - after just another one-shot strike on a bad guy. For One-Punch Man has a very basic main concept, which is pretty much summed up right in the title : Saitama is a normal guy who dreams about becoming a super hero, in a world that's frequently attacked by a plethora of monsters coming in every format and color you can imagine. In order to accomplish that he follows a simple ... training for some years during which he does push-ups, ab exercises and jogging. He ends up becoming the most powerful man in the world : every opponent he meets is reduced to shreds by just one punch. Worst thing is nobody's aware of Saitama's power and noboby's going to believe that this tiny baldy guy with a blasé face posesses such a power. There you go ! There's almost nothing else to say, the recipe for each and every OPM episode is already layed out. Like this : bad guy appears >> bad guy knocks everyone out >> bad guy puffs out his chest to show off how strong he is >> bad guy also beats every hero that's trying to stop him >> Saitama pops out of nowhere (or has been slowed down during the whole episode) >> bad guy laughs at Saitama cuz he really looks lame, am I right ? >> Saitama blows a hole into bad guy >> Saitama's f*cking disappointed and goes home. And so on. During 12 épisodes. And I'm not even exagerating. I'm not criticizing this particular recipe per se, it should be enough to make a few funny episodes, it's an efficient gag that brought a smile to my face once or twice... but not more really. That's what's shameful about OPN : it really overstays its welcome and is wallowing in its premise without ever risking going out of its comfort zone. So much that at the end of the last episode we're still where we were at the beginning. When you announce something as big as « hey this is our hero and he's stronger than anyone else » at the beginning of a shonen anime, you should at least try to shake our certainties as viewers. If you don't, all that's left is one running-gag that's already annoying at the third episode and that doesn't get better as time passes. Now people will come and tell me that not EVERYTHING revolves around Saitama, that there're parallel plots evolving, other heroes fighting against overpowered beasts (like when Geno starts to fight before Saitama does, or when everyone get beat up against the Sea King, or when the heroes unite against the self-regenerating alien...). Okay. But come on, the strings are so transparent and obvious that it is impossible not to understand that every time everything is made to make us feel that everything is hopeless until Saitama arrives. Therefore the only perceivable stake of the episode is related to the circumstances that will keep mister One-Punch from getting into the ring and ending the tension. But what tension really ? Certainly not the stress of not knowing the outcome of the fight since Saitama is already assured to win. And certainly not the survival of the fragile supporting cast since none of these guys is engaging or relatable. Seriously, I did not relate to any of those shallow multicolored imbeciles (same thing with Saitama by the way), whose personalities are poorly wrote - except maybe from the bicylcle guy whose name I keep forgetting and that offers probably the only touching moment of the whole story. None of those f*ckers is developped beyond their gimmicks. These guys reminded me of the One-Piece character zoo, except that at least Eichiro Oda has the talent to breathe life and passion into those weird and deformed characters. While OPN ends up just throwing them onto the screen to make us admire their caricature. One could also say to me : « Relax Max ! It's just a parody ! It's anti-shonen, it inverts the genre and plays with its tropes. It's ironic, it's satirical, it's supposed to be coarse and vulgar ». No it's not supposed to be. When you build a 12 episodes show, when you engage into a narrative, then you have to take on and assume what it implies about how you'll polish every piece of the anime. If you don't then just make a short film or even a video, it would've been largely enough to contain the whole point of One-Punch Man. As soon as the creators make the choice to extend their idea to several episodes, they owe it to themselves (and to us) to offer a product with a certain level of quality, that reinvents itself, that keeps the audience interested, involved, to at least try to set some stakes. Yet in OPN, there's almost no plot (well there're some plot elements that remain obscure, like what Metal Knight is plotting, or the true identity of the mysterious Blast, but we'll only be able to judge when season 2 arrives). At the end of the last episode Saitama is still far from having found anything to awake him, the characters are all shite due to their one-dimensional personality, the rythm is slow (especially the first three episodes, which is a shame really because those three episodes are boring but they already used all the jokes of the serie, so when the show wakes up a little bit in episode 4 it's already too late and we're as blasé as Saitama himself). The animation thankfully is gorgeous and produce some mildly-entertaining scenes, and that's the reason why this anime doesn't get a 3. In fact, now that I think about it, One-Punch Man is exactly like if we were shown a war between two armies of ants fiercly battling against each other... until a human shows up and steps calmly on the pile of insects. Ok, why not, but then we spectators should be put in the point of view of an ant, so that we could be genuinely surprised when the deus ex machina happens. But here there's no surprise occurring since we're warned from the beginning : Saitama defeats everyone with one punch. We're placed under the human's point of view and we're passively waiting for his shiny red boot to crush the swarming mass of insects. And boredom to show his pointy nose as soon as we realise that the creators will NEVER grow tired of their single running-gag. *whispers* But hey, believe me or not I'm an optimist and I will try to watch season 2. It nothing else at least to see up to where is the anime capable of get stuck in total stagnation before waking up and - who knows! - maybe to turn around its own tropes rather than focusing so hard in parodying weakly those of its glorious elders. French version : « Well that was lame... I kinda had my hopes up too. » Cette citation n'est pas de moi, c'est Saitama lui-même, principal protagoniste et « héros » de One-Punch Man, qui la prononce après un énième gros vilain dûment tabassé d'un seul coup terrassant. Car One-Punch Man a un concept de base très simple, qui se retrouve résumé dans son seul titre : Saitama est un type lambda qui rêve de devenir un super-héros, dans un monde régulièrement attaqué par une multitude de monstres de toutes les couleurs et de tous les formats imaginables ; pour cela il s'entraine des années par un régime à base de pompes, abdos et jogging et finit par devenir l'homme le plus fort du monde : tout adversaire qu'il rencontre se voit réduit en charpie par un seul coup de poing. Le drame, c'est que personne n'est au courant, et personne ne veut croire que ce petit bonhomme chauve blasé possède une telle puissance. Hop, voilà ! Emballé c'est pesé, la recette de chaque épisode de One-Punch Man est toute tracée. Comme suit : méchant débarque >> méchant déboîte tout le monde >> méchant gonfle le torse pour bien montrer comment qu'il est balèze >> méchant dérouille aussi tous les héros qui viennent l'arrêter >> Saitama déboule par hasard (ou a été ralenti pendant tout l'épisode) >> méchant se paye la tronche de Saitama parce qu'il a vraiment l'air tout nul >> Saitama fait trou dans méchant >> Saitama dépité, blasé, rentre chez lui. Et ainsi de suite pendant 12 épisodes, je caricature à peine. Cette recette je ne la critique pas en soi, ça donne en théorie de quoi faire quelques épisodes marrants, c'est un gag efficace qui m'aura fait sourire une fois ou deux... mais vraiment pas plus. C'est ce qui est dramatique avec One-Punch Man : elle se complait dans ses prémisses sans jamais avancer hors de sa zone de confort, si bien qu'à la fin du dernier épisode, on est toujours pas plus avancé. Quand on annonce quelque chose d'aussi gros que « voici notre héros, il est plus fort que tout le monde » et qu'on suit un arc narratif de shonen, on se doit de mettre à mal nos certitudes. Sinon tout ce qu'il reste est un running-gag qui est déjà lourdingue au bout de 3 épisodes et qui ne s'arrange pas à mesure que le temps passe. Alors on me dira que tout ne tourne pas autour de Saitama, que des intrigues annexes se forment, qu'il y a d'autres héros qui eux mènent de véritables combats contre des bestioles surpuissantes (cf entre autres lorsque Geno commence à se battre avant Saitama, ou lorsque tout le monde se fait rétamer face au Sea King, ou que les héros s'unissent face à l'alien auto-régénérant). Certes, mais les ficelles sont si transparentes qu'il est impossible de ne pas comprendre qu'à chaque fois tout est fait pour nous faire ressentir que tout est sans espoir jusqu'à ce que Saitama débarque. Dès lors le seul enjeu perceptible de l'épisode tient aux circonstances qui empêcheront mister One-Punch de débarquer dans le ring pour mettre fin à la tension. Mais quelle tension vraiment ? Certainement pas celle d'une quelconque issue incertaine du combat puisque Saitama est posé comme gagnant d'avance. Et sûrement pas celle de la survie des frêles personnages secondaires puisque aucun n'est attachant. Sérieusement, je ne me suis attaché à aucun de ces branques bariolés sans profondeur (pas plus qu'à Saitama d'ailleurs), dont le portrait est grossièrement taillé à la hache – à l'exception du cycliste dont le nom m'échappe, auquel j'accorde une belle séquence touchante. Tout ce petit monde m'a un peu fait penser au bestiaire grotesque de One Piece, sauf qu'au moins ce dernier avait le talent de leur insuffler une vie, une passion – fût-elle risible ou simplement débile, tandis que One-Punch Man se contente de les balancer dans l'écran sans autre forme de procès, comme pour nous faire admirer leurs caricatures. Ah oui, parce qu'on en vient justement à l'autre point qu'on pourrait m'opposer : « Relax mec ! C'est une parodie ! C'est de l'anti-shonen, ça renverse le genre et ça joue avec ses codes! C'est ironique, c'est satirique, c'est normal si c'est grossier ». Non, ça n'est pas normal. Quand on construit un show de 12 épisodes, qu'on pose une narration, alors on se doit d'assumer ce que cela suppose en terme de soin apporté aux diverses portions de l'animé. Sinon on fait un court-métrage ou une simple vidéo, ç'aurait été largement suffisant pour contenir tout l'intérêt de One-Punch Man. Dès lors que la série fait le choix de s'étendre sur la durée, elle se doit de proposer quelque chose de qualité, de se renouveler, de maintenir l'intérêt de l'audience, de convoquer un minimum d'enjeux. Or ici le scénario est quasi-inexistant (il reste éventuellement les éléments obscurs comme ce que complote Metal Knight, ou l'identité du mystérieux Blast restée en suspens, mais on ne sera libre d'en juger que lors de la prochaine saison donc ça ne rentre pas vraiment en ligne de compte) ne serait-ce que parce que Saitama à la fin du dernier épisode est toujours loin d'avoir trouvé de quoi se dérider, les personnages sont à chier puisque unidimensionnels et ne s'extraient jamais de leur caricature, le rythme est mollasson (tout particulièrement au début de l'animé, et c'est dramatique : les trois premiers épisodes sont chiants, mais suffisent à eux-seuls à épuiser toutes les maigres cartouches humoristiques de l'animé, si bien que lorsque ça se réveille un peu vers l'épisode 4 il est déjà trop tard : on est aussi blasé que Saitama). L'animation heureusement réserve quelques scènes d'action sympathiques, qui permettent de rendre cette baudruche d'animé passablement divertissant (ce pourquoi il arrive tout de même à 4). En fait, c'est exactement comme si on nous montrait une guerre entre deux armées de fourmis, qui se battent férocement jusqu'à ce qu'un humain débarque et écrase tranquillement le tas d'insectes avec son pied. Pourquoi pas, mais alors qu'on nous place, nous spectateurs, sous le point de vue de ces fourmis, de telle sorte qu'on puisse être authentiquement saisis lorsque le deus ex machina se produit. Mais ici nulle surprise, puisqu'on est averti dès le départ : Saitama défait n'importe quel opposant d'un seul coup. On a le point de vue de l'humain et on attend passivement que sa bottine rouge écrase sans passion la masse grouillante des formicidés. Et l'ennui de poindre le bout de son petit nez dès lors qu'on réalise que les créateurs ne se lasseront jamais de leur running-gag. Soupir Mais Dieu m'en soit témoin, je regarderai la saison 2, ne serait-ce que pour voir jusqu'à quel point One-Punch Man est capable de s'embourber dans le plus total immobilisme avant de se réveiller et, qui sait, prendre à revers ses propres codes au lieu de se concentrer si fort à parodier bien faiblement ceux de ses plus glorieux aînés.
Reviewer’s Rating: 4
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