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First, a disclaimer. I only watched the first 62 episodes of Rurouni Kenshin. I've been assured by nearly everyone that I come into contact with that I am missing nothing of importance in the remainder of the series. There's a good possibility that you may feel differently, and that my review is rendered invalid because I have not actually completed the series. And that's fine--let the down voting commence. Still, after completing the Kyoto Arc, widely considered to be the high point of the series and a high watermark in 90's anime period, however, I found myself pretty underwhelmed. If this is the best that ... the series had to offer, then I really did not want to see the worst. Let's proceed with this review, shall we?

Rurouni Kenshin tells the story of the not-so wandering Kenshin, an expert swordsman who has sworn a vow to never take another life. In order to fulfill his vow, he fights with a unique 'reverse-blade' sword, which is exactly what it sounds like: the blade is on the wrong side of the sword, so that the blunter edge is what his opponents are up against. Within the first episode he's settled into what seems like pretty permanent residence at a dojo run by the young and pretty Kaoru, who teaches a style of sword-fighting that also espouses sanctity for life--a style expressed by fighting purely with wooden swords. We quickly meet the other primary characters, Yahiko and Sanosuke, who also begin living at the dojo, the residents of which have an uncanny knack for getting themselves into dangerous situations, and for extricating others out of them. The first twelve or so episodes pass by quickly in this way, and we get a handle for the show's style. I went in expecting a more grounded take on sword combat, but it didn't take me long to figure out that Rurouni Kenshin had other ideas. The fights are about as over-the-top as they get, and fall quickly into that irritating pattern of 'exchange a few blows, talk for fifteen minutes, *cliffhanger,* finish this fight next episode.' It doesn't drag on as long as some fights do from other series, but it does quickly drain the show of all suspense and drama. Which is further drained by by the fact that literally almost the rest of the first season is nothing but filler arcs.

Let me take some time to talk about filler. I'm not immediately opposed to filler. Some of my favorite anime series of all time are composed largely of what you could probably subjectively call filler. Cowboy Bebop springs to mind. But there are 'degrees' to filler, and important distinctions between these degrees. In Bebop, only a small handful of episodes tie directly into the 'main story' of the series, however, nearly all of the remaining episodes explore either the pasts of the characters or the current dynamics between them. I'm not sure that either is the case here. Die-hard fans might argue otherwise, but as a Kenshin newb, I was *bored.* Things do improve immeasurably in the second season, the fabled 'Kyoto Arc,' but really only insofar as there's no strict filler. The pacing of this arc is a different story altogether, but I'll get to that in a bit.

First, the art and the music. Considering its age, the art and animation of Kenshin have held up pretty well, particularly in the second arc and especially in the climax, which not only receives a significant animation bump, but takes greater risks with style and accordingly reaps greater rewards. I did have problems telling many of the minor characters apart, but the leads (with the possible exception of Kaoru) are all distinctive and easy to pick out of a crowd. The enemy designs are imaginative and fairly varied, though only a small handful of them are truly memorable. Background art ranges from the bland to the impressive, but spends most of its time in the bland range, unfortunately. Fights that take place in interior spaces are especially uninspiring--coupled with the animation shortcuts and repeated animation, some fights quickly become an exercise in patience, which the lethargic pacing doesn't help. Fight scenes almost completely lack the kinetic thrill of more modern series, like Samurai Champloo. I suppose they have a certain old-school charm as the characters fly above the ground at one another and shout out their attacks, but old-school charm works best in small doses, and the team behind Kenshin don't understand the meaning of the word 'moderation.' Granted, Kenshin is pretty old-school, so I suppose I can't fault it too heavily for not doing something 'new.'

The voice acting is fine in the Japanese version, though some of the voices will take some getting used to. (Kenshin's in particular.) What little I heard of the English dub was also fine, if a bit flat. The voice actors in English do seem better suited for their roles than the Japanese actors do, but the Japanese play their roles better. The music goes through a pretty dramatic shift between the first and second season: in the first it's laughably bad, to the point of distraction. Frequently I was too busy giggling at how wildly inappropriate the background score was for various scenes that I was totally not paying any attention to the action unfolding on the screen itself. The music during the Kyoto Arc, while not any less understated, isn't as riotously goofy and painfully '90s' as it was in the first season, though it's equally unmemorable.

Now, about that Kyoto Arc. I found it to be incredibly boring, unnecessarily stretched out, and insultingly predictable. I'm a bit miffed as to why it's held in such high regard. Not that it doesn't have some positive things going for it (Shishio is about as memorable as villains get), but I can only handle so many fights that follow nearly the exact same patterns over and over and over again while characters narrate every move from the sidelines before I get bored. (Is it also necessary for almost every villain to have a tragic back-story?) Strip away all dramatic tension (for what story reason is Kenshin a pacifist? Nothing *ever* comes of it. Contrast how little Kenshin's pacifism means here to how much it means in the case of Vash in Trigun) and continuously escalate the ridiculousness of each fight to the point where one's suspension of disbelief is seriously tried and honestly, you've got something that's sort of a stinker. I suspect that I would have loved this show in elementary school--it hits all the same notes that something like Dragon Ball Z hits, but with significantly less drag. I'm not really sure that that's much of a compliment, though.

It seems likely that I'm just not at all the right sort of audience for this particular series, given how much love people have for it. Still, I figured my opinion was worth recording--if you're sympathetic to my general disposition, I think you'll be totally fine skipping this particular series. It may be a classic, but insofar as classics go, your time is better spent elsewhere. I would highly suggest Trigun as an alternative--it seems almost to have been directly inspired by Kenshin in many regards, but it had the good fortune to be scripted by someone (or a team of someones) who actually understands how to tell a compelling and moving story about a pacifist warrior.

Gankutsuou is a seriously weird adaptation of Dumas's The Count of Monte Cristo that might simultaneously manage to be the least faithful adaptation and the most faithful interpretation of the famed book. Or at least, it's the most compelling interpretation--die-hard fans of the novel (do such people exist?) are going to find *a lot* to be dissatisfied with, particularly with regards to its ending and some of the characterizations, but this adaptation is not meant for the fans of the novel; it's meant for adventurous anime fans. And I suspect that most such people will totally be blown away with what's on display here.

Gankutsuou ... is not without its flaws, but it's otherwise just about as close to being an anime masterpiece as there is.Of course, it's difficult to mess up too much when you're working from the plot of an established classic. (Unless you're Baz Luhrmann.) If you're unfamiliar with the general story of the Count, I really would not want to spoil anything for you, but I can give you a very vague premise to go on: Gankutsuou begins with a young noble, Albert, meeting a mysterious man, the Count of Monte Cristo. The Count is a charismatic enigma who is hiding some deep wells of sorrow and hate behind his mismatched eyes, which everyone except for the naive Albert seems to catch onto. As the Count's motivations begin to become clearer, Albert, his family, his friends, and the families of his friends all become swept up in a complex plot that seems to be at least partially masterminded by the Count, though darker forces are obviously at work.

It's a fantastic story, beautifully paced, marred only by a slightly out-of-place ending (and note that from this point on I'm talking solely about Gankutsuou and not the novel itself, unless I state otherwise), and its choice of protagonist in Albert. It's been a long time since I've looked at the novel itself, but I don't seem to remember Albert playing such a large role in the novel. If he did and I don't remember, it's probably because he wasn't anywhere near as annoying there as he is here. Albert makes pre-Rebuild Shinji look like John McClane--it's that bad. I can at least understand why Shinji is the way that he is, and can even empathize with him a great deal on at least a couple levels. Albert, on the other hand, mostly seems to be annoying just because it's the easiest way to move the plot forward. Indeed, if it weren't for Albert's thick-headedness (and if any of the characters possessed a phone or the futuristic equivalent), the plot would stall very quickly. It's too bad that the writers couldn't have found a more elegant, less frustrating way to move the story forward, but at least Albert goes through a real arc of development, finally becoming a character we can root for just in time for the series to conclude. The other characters fare considerably better, even the ones that have been changed significantly in the transition from the novel to the small screen. The Count, in particular, is a considerably different character here than he was in the novel, though I'd never dream of revealing the source of this difference.

I think the real reason most people will have checked this anime out is for its art style--and boy, is it a hell of a style. I lack the vocabulary to adequately describe it, but if you spend a few minutes on Youtube you'll see what's up. And you're probably either going to love it or be made sick by it. The best way I can describe it is to call it 'kaleidoscopic,' but even that doesn't do the trickery that's on display here justice. If I were to try and be more detailed, it's as if there are several backgrounds in each scene: the one that exists behind the characters, and then several patterned backgrounds that can only be seen through certain windows, like the characters' hair and clothing. Couple that with a ton of CGI and lots of intricate detail and the overall effect can be sort of claustrophobic. It's certainly unique though, and it ensures that there is always eye candy on screen for you to admire, assuming your eyes can handle it. I personally love it--the only aspect of it that doesn't do much for me is the CGI, which seems to have been purposely engineered so as to draw as much attention to itself as it possibly can. It's especially obnoxious during a couple of mecha sequences (oh yes, I did mention that this takes place something like three-thousand years in the future, right?), but otherwise it's not too bad--just weird looking. (It's also used to animate some jiggly girly bits at one point. Hooray.)

The music, other than the opening and closing (neither of which do a thing for me), is fantastic throughout, consisting as it does mostly of classical pieces (Debussy, Rachmaninoff, Tchaikovsky, and some others). The pieces aren't used to the same maximum effect that something like Princess Tutu draws out of its classical score, but it is well deployed nonetheless, transforming a few scenes into a true audio/visual feast for the senses. I wish I had positive things to say about the English dub, but I would highly recommend that you skip it and go straight for the Japanese. Not a single 'off' voice is to be found here--everyone plays their parts to literal perfection, and special mention most go to Joji Nakata, who provides the Count (does anyone know if he's doing the French introductions, as well? because *my god*) with a deadly, sexy gravity that matches his unusual but immensely attractive appearance to a T. It's a fantastic vocal performance, and one of my all-time favorites.

In addition to them being perfectly voiced, the character designs across the board are equally fantastic. Each character has a distinct look, and even occasionally changes outfits. Boy, do I wish that would happen more in anime. The Count is of course the stand out, but I also really liked Haydee, Bertuccio, Eugenie, Valentine, Heloise, and Cavalcanti. And Peppo. My god, Peppo might just be my favorite--I wish she showed up more frequently than she does.

So: mostly fantastic art and music, perfect voice acting and character design, and a convoluted but stirring story successfully translated into a medium wholly alien to its origins but made to work with only a couple of nagging, minor issues. Gankutsuou proves itself to be a more than just a pretty face: if it's not a masterpiece, it's damn close, and it makes up the rest of the distance with its restless creativity and risk-taking. Hugely, hugely recommended. Well, unless you're a die hard Count of Monte Cristo fan. Then you may want to approach with caution.

I really didn't feel like reviewing each movie individually--therefore, this will actually be a review of the series as a whole. I expect this to get some down votes as a result, but I figured the best place for this review would be attached to the first film in the series.

The plot mostly revolves around two young people, Mikiya and Shiki. Shiki is a gorgeous but weird girl. She frequently speaks in cryptic riddles, and is almost never seen wearing anything other than a kimono. She seems consistently bored and disinterested with what goes on around her. Mikiya is your average ultra-nice guy who ... always tries to see the best in everyone--and of course, he falls for Shiki hard, in his own restrained way. As he becomes closer to her and she beings to open up to him in spite of herself, he learns that she may have something to do with the mysterious (and very violent) murders that have been occurring in their city. And while it's true that she does, nothing about this series is as straightforward as it initially seems to be, and the mysteries that revolve around Shiki and the bloody violence that plague their city is what drives Garden of Sinners forwards. And sometimes backwards. And sideways.

I've got mixed feelings about this movie series--on one hand, they are some of the prettiest and most detailed animated works I've ever seen, complete with fantastically choreographed action sequences, a decent soundtrack, and chillingly dark, gory mysteries blooming like a poisoned blossom in each installment. On the other hand, they possess an unrelentingly (and occasionally laughable) high opinion of their own seriousness, are populated almost entirely with either thinly developed or just plain unlikable characters (with maybe one or two exceptions) and make the grave mistake of thinking that they are about more than they are actually about. Top it all off with some occasionally lazy writing and way more purposeful obfuscation than an action series like this requires (is there any real reason why these stories aren't told in chronological order?) and you're left with something that's sort of a pleasure to behold, but difficult to enjoy or care much about.

There is some meaty substance here worth digging into (the fifth film's central plot revolving around a magnificently bizarre apartment complex was particularly satisfying for a good chunk of its length), and when it pushes into emotional territory without overextending its reach it proves itself capable of some seriously great scenes, but otherwise, serious fans of pitch-black action/horror anime (to the exclusion of nearly all else) are going to probably be the only ones who are going to seriously nerd out about this series.

Still, it's worth noting that I'd probably watch it again, and I wouldn't be too terribly surprised if I wound up liking it more the second time around. Ultimately though, I'd say that Garden of Sinners is mostly a severe case of style over substance that pretends as if it possesses substance by slowing down the pace and keeping key plot elements in the shadows for far longer than is necessary. (Not to mention the terribly cryptic dialogue and clumsy philosophizing. Where do I even begin with this stuff?) On that note, however, I must say that I'm more than a little concerned about how often the pacing of this series is criticized: for all of its frustrations, I was never once even remotely bored--which leads me to worry somewhat about the attention span of your average anime fan. (I was similarly frustrated to see many anime fans complaining of Serial Experiments Lain and Haibane Renmei being too slow.) Garden of Sinners suffers from numerous problems, but pacing issues are not one of them.

The biggest problem is that most of the individual films themselves are pretty decent in and of themselves. (I'll get to the rest of the problem in a second here.) Yes, they tend to wallow in mindless darkness for longer than they should (seriously, if Garden of Sinners blows your mind, go check out something like Clockwork Orange, then report back to me), but as atmospheric action mysteries they succeed, occasionally magnificently. The problem is that even with none of the films being too weak when taken individually they just don't add up to anything too compelling when all are taken together. It's like the team (or teams) behind it all spent so much time carefully crafting each individual piece that they forgot to make sure that the pieces all added up to an appealing whole when taken together. Nor does the big picture, which is doled out to the audience in bits and pieces, really add up to anything particularly surprising--indeed, I had already filled in most of the blanks myself by the time the final film rolled around, and as the credits rolled on the final picture, the overwhelming thought I had was: 'That was it? What was the point?'

Ultimately, I appreciate the ambition and technical artistry that's on display here, and I'd be a liar if I said that I didn't really enjoy on some level the gore, action, and the occasional nice character moment. Otherwise though, Garden of Sinners feels pretty hollow once you get past its polished exterior, and looking back on it I mostly see wasted potential.

This is probably one of the last anime series that actually needs another review. But I suppose I can write a little something on it, though I doubt I'll be able to add much to the conversation that hasn't already been stated better elsewhere.

FMA is the story of... well surely you know what it's about by now, don't you? I oftentimes refer to FMA as being the Star Wars of anime--even if you've never seen it, chances are good that you know who most of the characters are, what their allegiances are, what happens to them, and the general path by which the story progresses, ... including many of the twists and shockers that occur throughout. Things did get a little confused when FMA: Brotherhood entered the picture, but most casual anime fans I speak with are considerably more familiar with the first series. Still, I guess if you've somehow managed to totally avoid exposure to FMA (maybe you've just decided to get into anime and remembered how big FMA was a few years back?), it tells the story of the Elric brothers, Ed and Al, who join a powerful military organization in order to make use of said organization's extensive research resources--the reason being that they are seeking 'The Philosopher's Stone,' a powerful artifact that will enable them to restore their bodies to them, which were mangled and/or lost in a desperate attempt to raise their mother from the dead. Ed and Al, you see, are 'Alchemists,' and they wield a powerful 'science' (we would understand it as a magic, albeit one that works on somewhat logical principles) that enables them to powerfully manipulate their environment.

The world in which they live (a steampunk-esque one that is parallel to ours in many respects) is a world where many of these alchemists exist. A lot of them choose to serve in various fields of research, or to support the military--and it's worth noting that those with the strongest alchemical gifts seem to come from the powerful military state of Amestris--a happy country with a nasty habit of frequently waging war on its less advanced (both technologically and alchemically) neighbors. Ed and Al join Amestris's military knowing full well that they'll be forced to commit unsavory acts for the benefit of their state, but they believe that the resources they'll have access to will be worth the sacrifice. They've never been more right--or more wrong.

If it sounds a bit complex, truthfully, it *should be.* FMA juggles a mind-boggling amount of important characters, themes, events, subplots, and moods. Generally any show that attempts so much comes across as schizophrenic at best, even when they're as long as FMA is. FMA largely avoids this trap by focusing heavily on the heart of the story: the relationship between Ed and Al and their trials and tribulations. Certainly, there is a lot more going on at any given moment, but the writers always find a way to bring it back to these two, even when they are occasionally reduced to supporting roles in their own story. Another key point in FMA's favor are the variety of memorable and likable characters; first and foremost for me will always be Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang, but everyone has their own favorites, and there are plenty to choose from.

It also helps that FMA is pretty great at nearly everything it attempts. Only a few things about it seem at all half-assed, with most of these problems only cropping up in the first half of the series--though certainly many people have expressed reasonable misgivings about the last fourth of the series, as well. I actually love how the last fourth draws explicit parallels between our world and the world of FMA--after all, a good chunk of the preceding material is all about drawing slightly less explicit parallels anyways, so for the writers to take that final step, for me, gives the potency of the tale some extra 'oomph' that it might have otherwise lacked. (Contrast and compare FMA with Grave of the Fireflies and Now and Then, Here and There to see where I'm coming from.)

Most of the problems in the first half come down to awkward pacing (especially the placement of some of the 'stand-alone' episodes, which are generally too rushed-feeling to leave any sort of favorable impression), some occasionally severe mood whiplash, and just some plain-old tropey writing. Some people have also accused the series of straying into displays of over-sentimentality too frequently--I'm not sure that I totally agree, but there are some occasional eye-roll inducing moments here and there, particularly if you're the sort that's not moved at all by big wet anime character tears. However, it must be said that at least the voice acting talent (in both languages) is more than up to the task of knowing when to ham it up and when to tone it down. The English, in particular, is fantastic--it's probably one of the all-time great English dubs.

Less memorable is the music--it certainly does the job while you're watching, with only a couple of themes being reused a little too frequently, but doesn't hold up well when divorced from the context of the show, nor is it likely to stick in your head afterwards. The opening and ending themes are (with one exception) also pretty unremarkable--I try to watch all the way through each once with each show that I watch, but frequently found myself skipping through the openings and closings here, though in all fairness, that might be due more to impatience to see what happens next than anything else.

And that's where this show shines: you'll always want to see what happens next. Even in between the lengthier arcs there is always something interesting going on somewhere--whether it's the ember of a new plot thread flickering to life or a small character moment or yes, even a comedic filler episode, there is always a lot to look forward to here--so much so that even at 51 episodes FMA almost feels *too* short, and that's coming from someone who tends to avoid series that drag on for more than 26 episodes. I think that most anime production teams could learn a thing or two about when and how to employ filler and how to manage pacing from FMA--yes, I did mention above that there are some pacing issues in the first half of the series, but no one could reasonably make any such complaints about the second half.

I haven't mentioned the art yet, though it's certainly deserving of mention. The background art is rarely impressive and is frequently lacking in detail, but it's not bad by any stretch of the imagination, and when it is impressive, it is *seriously* impressive. (I'm thinking specifically of a few moments towards the end of the series.) As for the characters, most of them have a slightly rounded look that may throw some anime fans off (particularly those who still worship the 90s), but to say that they are memorable is a massive understatement. The designs are attractive and clean, with each character getting a nice touch or two to help them stick out from the crowd--even minor characters are distinctive from one another. I particularly like the female designs, which range from the unashamedly sexy (the very appropriately named Lust, who may rival even Faye Valentine for in-your-face sex appeal) to the the more utilitarian and simple, but nonetheless attractive (Lt. Ross). (And I'm still convinced that the only reason anyone likes Winry is because she really can rock a skirt.) And that's not to say that the guys get the short end of the stick--if we are talking about just pure sex appeal here, then Mustang might just be one of the sexiest male anime characters of all time, despite not conforming 100% to the typical pretty anime boy stereotypes. (In all fairness, some of this might be due to Travis Willingham's performance in the English dub.) For my money, he *may* only be topped by Akio, of Revolutionary Girl Utena. (Obviously. ^^)

Also of note visually is the 'directing.' The FMA artists have a strong sense of how to effectively use lighting, with particular attention given to the time of day. When it's not being excessively cartoony, FMA gives off a very cinematic vibe, particularly during action sequences and several of the back-story episodes, especially the ones that focus on past wars and Ed and Al's early experiences with alchemy. There are very few anime titles I can think of where my memory of specific scenes is so directly tied to the lighting of the scene, or the time of day at which it takes place. Only some of the better theatrical titles have it beat in this regards, as well as a very small handful of other series (Paranoia Agent springs to mind).

When it's all said and done, FMA isn't a particularly challenging or insightful piece of work (though there is more than enough to dissect here for the more literary-minded), but as an epic work of entertainment it doesn't strike a single truly sour note. Romance, adventure, action, war, horror (of an often higher caliber than that practiced by straight horror titles), and comedy all come together to make for a well-rounded whole. There's a little bit of something here for everyone (which can all too frequently be a curse, but is mostly a blessing here), and may be the rare work that could actually do a reasonably good job of bringing people outside of the anime fandom into the fold. If you've got a friend who is stubbornly resisting watching your anime with you and you haven't tried to inflict this on them yet, I'd be pretty willing to bet that you'd get good results with it.

Age hasn't necessarily treated it well, but Rose of Versailles remains a compelling and gripping viewing experience for even modern, jaded audiences, as long as they enter into it equipped with a bit of patience, a fondness or tolerance for heavy-handed sentimentality, and open-mindedness with regards to their entertainment.

Rose of Versailles tells the story (with a few deviations) of four people, living in the years leading up to the French Revolution. Two of them, Marie Antoinette and Hans Axel von Fersen, are fictionalized but nonetheless fairly 'real' portrayals of their historical counterparts. The other two, Oscar Francois de Jarjeyes and Andre Grandier, are (almost) wholly ... fictional characters who serve as sort of the emotional anchor for the series. Much of what happens, whether it is straight from history or an invention of the writers, is processed through these two characters before reaching the audience.

I'm assuming that everyone who is reading this review already knows enough history to be aware of the fates of Antoinette and Fersen--just in case though, I'll avoid talking about them, other than to say that the writers do a fine job of making both characters sympathetic and very human. Antoinette is not the self-absorbed pleasure seeker here that she is so often portrayed as, and Fersen in particular benefits from thorough character development and a well-rounded depiction. Of all the characters though, it is Oscar who steals the show. The series begins with her (yes, her) birth into a prestigious military family. Her father, depressed by his lack of sons who he can pass on his family's military heritage to, decides at the moment of her birth to raise her as a boy and as his successor. Flash forward a few years and we see the results: Oscar has grown into a beautiful and somewhat haughty woman who is tremendously skilled in the ways of combat, and whose mannerisms and bearing straddle an interesting middle ground between femininity and masculinity. If you're familiar with Revolutionary Girl Utena, Oscar is very much a prototype for the titular heroine of that particular series--not only somewhat in disposition, but even, to some degree, in character design.

Oscar quickly lands herself a commanding position in the royal guards, becoming a loyal friend and servant to Antoinette, and shortly thereafter finding herself ensnared in the high-society power-games that dominate life in the Court of Versailles. For roughly the first half of the series most of the plot arcs revolve around the emotionally-heightened 'combat' between the French nobles. And it is, to say the least, a bit silly. Shojo tropes are in full bloom here: expect lots of dramatic musical cues, name-calling, wide-eyed close-ups, sparkles, and pastel freeze frames. None of it is any worse than that which still happens regularly in modern girls' anime, but it is significantly clunkier, and is further stilted by the fact that it's all supposed to be happening in 1700s France. It's certainly not going to be to everyone's tastes: you either will just have to deal with it or learn to love it for its cheesiness and narmy charm.

Things improve markedly as the half-way point of the series approaches. Oscar, with the help of her friend (and stable boy) Andre begins to take note of the plight of the commoner and is introduced to the would-be revolutionaries who will rise up against the rule of the nobles in the not-so-distant future. Oscar's loyalties are severely tested, and as the eve of revolution draws near, she has to make impossible decisions about who requires her sword arm the most: the common people of France or Antoinette and her court. This second half of the series borders on the masterful, marred only by some mistimed displays of melodrama and over-the-top sentimentality. These small flaws aside, one couldn't ask for more from any anime series: incredibly well-developed characters (it's remarkable how well the writers do with showing these characters grow over a couple decades' worth of time), brisk pacing, a lovely (and sad) romantic subplot, and a final arc of episodes from which few of the characters, if any, will remain unscathed; it's a complete package. It makes for serious edge-of-your seat viewing, and is topped off with a shockingly cold epilogue that is easily the most brutal and tragic concluding chapter of any 'girly' series I've ever watched. The last ten or so episodes are practically an emotional holocaust--even if you could care less about the interpersonal relationships between the primary characters at this point (you monster!), the large scale and clever interweaving of historical events into the plot should pretty much guarantee that you marathon Rose of Versailles's last fourth.

Technically speaking, Rose of Versailles has aged pretty poorly in some aspects of its presentation. The score ranges from the laughably bad to the fairly decent, and the animation quality is all over the place. (Though it is surprisingly fluid and well-choreographed during the action sequences.) Nonetheless, I think the art design and attention paid to period detail will impress most viewers, as will the character designs, once you embrace their old-school charm and get past how many times the same face design is used on a huge chunk of the cast. Oscar, in particular, is something of a marvel, with the animators masterfully hitting exactly the right notes that the character requires.

The team behind the series also puts her gender-bending to fantastic use, using it to satisfyingly explore gender politics and even (maybe?) same-sex relationships. They get a lot of comedic mileage out of Oscar too, particularly with regards to how the ladies of the court react to her. Less successful is the drama that they try to squeeze out of her gender-identity issues. Still, through it all, Oscar never suffers from being a plot-device; she remains a strong, believable character throughout, and it's easy to see how she's become such an icon. She really leaves a huge impression, and has very quickly become one of my favorite anime heroines, keeping company with Utena, Hawkeye, Holo, and Kino.(Modern anime needs less Tohrus and more Oscars, that much is for certain.)

Another thing that has aged very well, in my opinion, is the Japanese voice acting. While required by the script to overact occasionally, most of the principal cast leave strong impressions, as do a lot of the minor characters. As if things couldn't get any better, each member of the cast even significantly steps up their performance as the series moves towards its finale, bringing a lot of earned pathos to their roles. If only a more subtle editing touch had been used during a few key scenes, I would say that the ending to this series would be pretty much absolutely flawless--which is something that one cannot say frequently about the ending chapters of too many series, period.

Not only is its influence on modern shojo totally massive, but Rose of Versailles tells a fantastic historical tale in its own right, and does us all the great favor of populating it with characters who are a joy to spend time with. There are some significant missteps along the way (an almost complete lack of anything resembling subtlety is the biggest blow against it, in my opinion), but it nonetheless possesses remarkable power, and will really resonate with the right audience. It's not just a good series considering the time in animation history that it comes from; it's a good series period, and is perfectly capable of being compared favorably to many excellent modern series. Hugely recommended.

*Note that for the purposes of this review and the rating I'm ignoring the existence of the 4 back-to-back recap episodes (15-18) and factoring in the four OVA episodes that bring the series to an actual conclusion. Also, expect some spoilers!*

I have a lot of problems with Wolf's Rain. More problems with it than any other anime on my top ten list. Yet it's also on my top ten list. How did this happen? Let's find out! :-D

Wolf's Rain is about four wolves, which in this post-apocalyptic future/past/alternate universe aren't your standard pack of wolves. They demonstrate great resistance to physical injury and possess remarkable ... regenerative capabilities. They can perform feats of physical skill that no living creature could possibly match. They are capable of disguising themselves as human via some sort of illusion-based magic. And, when the end of the world approaches, only they are capable of discovering and activating Paradise, which essentially serves as a reset button, reverting the world back to a more idyllic state.

The story follows these four wolves, and the humans, 'nobles,' and various other things (including a girl who was bio-genetically engineered from a flower?) who become involved with them. The characters are where the heart of this story is--while it does take a long time to warm up to them, and while their development comes in fits and starts (and their interactions are frequently repetitive), by the time the series is half-over you'll probably be very attached to most of the large cast. And, if you're not, at least you've got some great eye-candy to lose yourself in. Between the attractive characters and the detailed background art Wolf's Rain is pretty close to being a visual marvel, for an anime series. It's never particularly flashy or inventive, but the fluid animation and assured designs help ensure that the art will stick in your mind, even if ultimately the whole thing feels a little cold. Which at least is fitting--the post-apocalyptic environment in Wolf's Rain actually feels post-apocalyptic, particularly in its final episodes as the world begins to degenerate at a rapid rate.

Much warmer is the music, by the always fantastic Yoko Kanno. Expect lots of pop, rock, and jazz influence coupled with some gorgeous orchestration. The score does an amazing job of complementing the mood of the visuals, and, like all of her best work, stands up well on its own even when divorced from the anime. Dub fans should be pleased as well--the English language dub is almost universally fantastic, and may be one of the better English dubs I've ever heard in an anime, right up there with FLCL, Fullmetal Alchemist, Princess Tutu, and Cowboy Bebop. A few of the characters may take a while to warm up to, and some of the minor characters that show up once or twice are a little cringe-worthy, but otherwise this is great acting, probably the equal of the Japanese, if not better. (I'm going to lean towards better--Steven Blum as Darcia sends chills down my spine, and all of the actors truly shine in the last four devastating episodes.)

So, all that is well and good, but what about the story? This is what's going to lose some people. It might seem cheap of me to say so, but I think that the only real way to approach Wolf's Rain is to treat its story as pure allegory or symbolism. Taking it literally is only going to lead to frustration--it almost totally falls apart upon close inspection, and it gets so many details wrong (or just includes so much ridiculous stuff that feels totally out of place or breaks the story in other ways) that you'd have to be pretty selective and/or willfully ignorant to enjoy the story on a literal level. And you detail-oriented people are going to be driven especially insane. I'm pretty lenient when it comes to breaches of logic in my anime, but even I had to 're-write' the rules that Wolf's Rain was feeding me in some instances just to prevent myself from being annoyed with it. Especially annoying to me is how the human disguises that the wolves used are supposed to be more illusions than anything else, yet the wolves frequently use them in ways that suggest otherwise. And that's just a minor example--I'd hate to spoil anything or turn this into a thesis paper, but suffice to say that there are plenty more.

But how is the story when you move past this stumbling block? I dunno. It's good I think. It's sort of vague and dreamy--you should certainly expect further re-watches to reveal more. And the forward momentum does tend to drag here and here, particularly in the first and third fourth of the series. I honestly suspect that this would be a 'masterpiece' series if it lost a handful of episodes (and remember, I'm cutting out the four pointless recap episodes already! Don't even get me started on those...). I will say that the final four episodes are either make it or break it depending on the audience--viewers who are invested in the characters and the plot by this point will be devastated but eager to move forward nonetheless, whereas everyone else will likely think the final four to be an overly-sentimental dirge. It's one of the most brutally sad endings I've ever encountered in anime, which is both something of a blessing and a curse.

So, I don't know if I've managed to quite hit on why I love this series then. Re-reading what I've written so far, it mostly just sounds like I'm sort of conflicted about it--and I certainly am. But Wolf's Rain is hardly the only series in my top ten that I'm conflicted about--Serial Experiments Lain and Neon Genesis Evangelion spring immediately to mind. I love both of those series because of how challenging they are--their flaws are nasty, yes, but I feel that both reach for something above and beyond that which most anime series strive for. Give me a flawed series that reaches too far over a well-constructed series that plays it safe any day, and the same holds true if I look at some of my other favorite series as well. (Revolutionary Girl Utena, anyone?)

I think what strikes me about Wolf's Rain is its passion. It presents itself as being somewhat cold and mean, but the love that went into this anime is just not something you see that frequently, even in the best-constructed series. Just spend a little bit of time in its off-center fantasy/sci-fi world and down a drink or two with wolf-hunter Quent and you'll see what I mean. If this series is awkwardly paced at times, it's only because the team behind it lets the characters dictate the pace. These characters are not wholly in service of the story--they've got room to breathe, and to just be themselves. And the world itself is sort of an unique one in fantasy anime--its mythology weird and lovely, its social and political structures recalling 1984, and its depictions of weaponry updating that old-school 50's sci-fi charm for a modern audience. Then of course there's the fantastic art and music and acting, the surprising character developments, the unique character designs, and the heartache that accompanies its beautiful and bleak ending. Wolf's Rain is the anime equivalent of that kid who hides his or her passions underneath a shy exterior. It's tough work to draw them out, but well worth it when you do.

A goofy, sci-fi western dramedy that suckers you into thinking it's just that before pulling the rug out from underneath you in the final third and hammering you relentlessly with some truly bleak entertainment that rivals Neon Genesis Evangelion and Puella Magi Madoka Magica for unpleasantness. And you know what? It's a good thing that it does. Allow me to explain.

Trigun concerns itself with one Vash the Stampede, a legendary trouble-maker with a massive bounty on his head. Destruction follows in his wake, with entire cities turning to ruin after he shows up. It's not long before the viewers catch onto the fact that this ... is not entirely his fault, however. Instead, it all really comes down to him having been at the wrong place in the wrong time at one point in his past, followed ever thereafter by a zealous horde of bounty hunters (sometimes the entire population of towns) who wind up causing more calamity than he does in their attempt to catch him and claim the reward. Vash himself is very much a pacfist. While he does resort to violence if necessary, he never shoots to kill, and will go to incredible lengths to insure the well-being of his opponents and to prevent fatal conflict between other parties, often at the cost of extreme physical harm to himself. On his journeys he develops relationships with several others who become recurring companions, foremost among them the traveling preacher/fellow gunslinger Nicholas Wolfwood, and Meryl Stryfe and Milly Thompson, two insurance agents who are assigned to watch over Vash and prevent him from getting into destructive situations that their employer will ultimately have to pay for.

Goofy antics ensue, and continue largely unabated until one of the best anime villains in existence shows up, Legato Bluesummers. Bluesummers (and his employer) have dark intentions for Vash that go far beyond claiming the bounty on his head, and I would not dream of spoiling them. What I will say is that Vash's pacifism is shaken to its core, particularly as he comes to the realization that it may cost more lives than it actually saves. In one stunning and disturbing scene, we also see the high price that years of putting himself into harm's way to prevent people from killing one another has done to his body: it puts Kenshin's attractive facial scar to shame, to say the least.

This is the good thing that I mentioned above in first paragraph: while the mood whiplash this series undergoes is extreme, to say the least, it also does not shy away from exploring the darker side of pacifism, which is rarely touched on to this same level in anime. It makes for powerful, if dark viewing. On top of which the series is not afraid to kill major characters, or to let the bad guys win.

Unfortunately, there are a lot of problems with this series: the early episodes tend to be pretty weak, the cheap animation budget ensures that there are loads of continuity errors to pick up on, and the explosive ending, while viscerally satisfying, does little to tie up the thematic concerns of the series. On top of which Vash is a hero that not everyone will appreciate. While it is revealed that his easy-going, thick-headed goofball nature is largely something of a front, he's still a very emotional, very one-track minded character, which can lead to him sometimes being a joy to watch, while other times you'll just feel like slugging him good.

Still, this is a 90's classic for a reason (did I mention the fantastic voice-acting and score?), and while it hasn't aged as well as others, it's still very much worth watching for modern audiences.

The best anime series for children I've ever encountered, bar none, Princess Tutu weaves a story comparable to the best works from Pixar or Ghibli: light and simple enough for children (even at its darkest), but with wells of depth and maturity that may even inspire contemplation in the young ones while leaving a stronger emotional and intellectual impression on the adults that watch it with them.

Princess Tutu concerns itself with a duck (appropriately named Duck), who falls in love with a graceful but sad human prince, Mytho. She is given human form by the mysterious (and very dead) author Drosselmeyer. This new ... form of hers is sustained by a magical necklace, though it comes with some conditions. If she quacks (which she tends to do when startled or in a state of heightened emotion), she will revert back to her duck-state, which she can only reverse by dousing herself in water. This necklace also allows her to transform into Princess Tutu--a magic-wielding ballerina who has the power to restore Mytho's missing heart, which he destroyed in a desperate attempt to seal away a great evil long ago. Duck enrolls in a private ballet school, where she makes friends (albeit somewhat sociopathic ones), and meets the talented ballerina Rue and the dark and controlling Fakir, who are both connected to Mytho (and Drosselmeyer) in ways that are not immediately clear. It doesn't take long before the dark tragedy that's at the heart of this story reveals itself, and Duck and the others must find a way to change their sad fate.

Much like Revolutionary Girl Utena before it, Princess Tutu draws equally from magical girl shojo and Western fairy tales, fearlessly deconstructing both and reconstituting them to fit the story's unique requirements. However, if possible, Princess Tutu one-ups Utena with a hefty dose of metafictionalism, in addition to referencing and twisting actual fairy tales (and ballet, opera, and plays), and not just toying with fairy tale archetypes. Influences and references are wide-ranging, including The Ugly Duckling, The Nutcracker, Swan Lake, Sleeping Beauty, Giselle, Romeo and Juliet, Cinderella, The Sylph, Coppelia, Carmen, A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Bartered Bride, and Ruslan and Lyudmila. Princess Tutu doesn't stop there though: most of the score (with the exception of the opener and closer) draw directly from classical composers, with Strauss, Tchaikovsky, and Satie's haunting Gymnopedies (also used to gorgeous effect in another anime I watched recently, The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya) standing out in particular. These pieces are deployed masterfully and are used to maximum effect, particularly during the climaxes of the two seasons and during other emotional reveals throughout. This, coupled with the fantastic English voice acting (though it will take some getting used to) and the simplistic but evocative art style all contribute to moments of great power that rival even the best moments in series like Cowboy Bebop and Madoka Magica, and classical music has not been used to such fantastic effect in an anime series since director Hideaki Anno deployed Handel's Messiah and Beethoven's Ode to Joy in his depressive mecha masterpiece Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Princess Tutu also benefits from great pacing (well, for a magical girl series), a memorable supporting cast, and uncommonly good writing, which climaxes in a sweeping, bittersweet conclusion that will prove upsetting for the romantics in the audience, but which I imagine will nonetheless impress everyone who makes it that far. And that's the problem: getting that far. For starters, this is unashamedly a girls' anime. Young boys will dig that there are a few good sword fights to be had on top of the excellent physical comedy and funny G-rated nudity (largely provided by the gawky and clumsy Duck), and young girls will dig it because, you know, ballerinas. And older girls and women who like fairy tales and plays and ballet will be equally impressed, particularly if they can catch all the references (and make it past the Pokemon-esque art style and obviously low budget). Older boys and men though... it'll just all depend on the guy. If they're the sort who still has a soft spot for children's animation and who can willingly watch and enjoy The Little Mermaid or Beauty and the Beast then they'll do fine. Otherwise, they'd probably do well to cut their teeth on something more mature, like Revolutionary Girl Utena or Puella Magi Madoka Magica first.

And despite being a children's anime, there are some things here that aren't going to sit well with some children, or their parents. There is a lot of harmless nudity (and Princess Kraehe's Absolute Cleavage), some sociopathic mayhem, a little bit of blood, lots of implied violence, some occasionally 'strong' language (nothing worse than a 'bastard' or a 'damn' here and there, excluding the slightly raunchier vocal outtakes), and some implied homosexual (and possibly pedophilial) undertones (which only the adults in the audience are going to pick up on, anyways). In addition to which things do occasionally get quite dark and bleak--never as 'bad' as its peers Utena and Madoka, but aspects of it could potentially be upsetting for very young audience members.

Still, on the whole, I'd say that this is the rare series that may actually be good for children, serving as not only an excellent entry point into classic stories and music, but also being a truly good story in and of itself. And I genuinely think that most adults will be blown away by it as well, once they acclimate themselves to its style and get past its quirks (assuming they're
not familiar with magical girl anime). There's a lot here to admire and enjoy, and it more than deserves a spot in my personal anime series top five. And the best thing about it is that it's streaming in its entirety for free on Youtube, straight from the distributor. So you have no excuse not to watch it, or to at least give it a shot.

(Edit: Re-watched this, and enjoyed it *considerably* more the second time around. I think perhaps I was already in a dark mood when I first encountered this series, and it negatively impacted my viewing somewhat. Make no mistake, I think this is still an unpleasant series to some degree, but its shocking eagerness to tear apart the magical girl genre from the inside out kept a bitter smirk plastered on my face when it wasn't ripping my heart out. I've kept my original review mostly intact below, because I really don't feel like rewriting it, but I've bumped my score for it from an 8 ... up to a 10. This is truly a great series, and I don't think it'll be long before it's held in the same sort of love/hate esteem that people reserve for deconstructor fleet shows like Neon Genesis Evangelion--though I can assure you that this is probably less-flawed than that particular program.)

This is a tough anime review for me to write, and a tough anime for me to assign a score to. I knew going into it that Madoka Magica was going to be a 'dark' take on the magical girl genre, and I was sort of prepared to hate it just based on that. I'm honestly sick of people equating 'dark' with 'good,' and have been for as long as I can remember. (Star Wars Episode III was praised to the high heavens for its 'darkness.' Am I the only one who thought that it was the worst entry in the prequel trilogy?)

And I can safely report that I did not particularly enjoy this anime. Nor did I particularly like it. But I respect its artistry, and am positively in awe of its willingness to mercilessly and logically follow its initial rule-establishing through to its inevitable, bitter (sweet) end. Every episode is a wham episode, without any overt signs of contrivance. I'm not certain that there's an ounce of spare fat in the plot that could be done away with, other than arguably the first two episodes. Still, the first two episodes serve their purpose well--they set the viewer up for a cutsey, nice, slightly post-modern magical girl series before ripping the rug out from underneath you and allowing you to plummet through deeper and deeper horrors.

It sounds unpleasant--and I'm not going to lie, it sort of is. But it's also brave storytelling, anchored by fairly-well developed characters and a pervading sense of dread and tragedy that actually feels like proper tragedy--not just drama gussied up with heightened emotions and forced sorrow. And yes yes, it subverts this, that, and the other. Because we all dearly love our subverting, here.

The story revolves around Madoka and her friends, and their encounter with Kyubey, a weird cat-thing who tries to get them to become magic girls. Magic girls pay a steep price, hunting 'witches' who torment the general populace and drive individuals to suicide. The up-side to it for the girls, well, in addition to being magic girls, is that Kyubey will grant a wish of theirs. Of course, it's very quickly revealed that not all is as it seems, and things go to hell *very* quickly.

So, there's that. As for the art--well, the character designs don't do much for me--the ultra cute style never does. Unfortunately it also occasionally looks cheap, on top of that. The witches and the labyrinths, on the other hand... You know what? Just go watch this show. I'm no art major, and I lack the vocabulary necessary to explain to you just how awe-inspiring the art design is when the girls find themselves in a witch's labyrinth, each of which is its own unique place.

On the whole I'd say this is a series very much worth watching, even if it ultimately may be easier to admire than it is to like.

Despite being one of the worst anime series I've sat all the way through, I can't bring myself to *completely* hate Wedding Peach. It does just enough marginally interesting things and dips frequently enough into 'it's so bad it's good' territory (in the English dub, especially) for it to not be a complete waste of time--though it's close.

Wedding Peach is essentially Sailor Moon, only wedding themed. Remember the marginally interesting things that I mentioned? This is one of them. It's also pretty dumb and more than a little creepy, but let's roll with it for a little. Basically, the three girls (for starters--one more ... is added later) all gain the ability to transform into Love Angels, in order to do battle against the world of the devils, who seek to extinguish love from the human world. To do this, they are given the power to transform into wedding dresses and perform various wedding-based attacks ('Wedding Engagement Gift!' Saint Crystal! Love for You!') until the hapless devil succumbs to their Love Waves, transforms into a 'cute' version of itself, and disappears in a shower of sparkles, thanking the girls for the love they showed it. Yes, this happens every episode. Yes, there's a ridiculous amount of repeated animation. (For the record, I love Revolutionary Girl Utena and can handle my stock footage. Yet even I found the repeated animation and shortcuts in Wedding Peach to be too much to bear a lot of the time.) But, like Sailor Moon, there's something charming about its earnestness, and its ideal audience will probably love it.

It does other things worth noting as well: the biggest stand-out to me was how each of the three main female characters (the lead and her two side-kicks) each get a love interest. Typically only the lead does and the side-kicks are just out of luck, so this was nice to see. (Even if one of the girls sort of draws the short straw, so to speak.) Another little twist was how their 'cute' animal side kick actually starts out working for the bad guys, before being persuaded to join the Love Angels. Frankly, I wish he hadn't, because he might just be the most obnoxious anime animal sidekick in anime history, but there you have it. Other than the genuine laughs that the awful English dub and script will inspire, there's not much else that's too positive that I can say about Wedding Peach. Though I sure can say a lot of negative things. Let's run through these negative things briefly.

1. Dear god, the filler. There is so much of it. Seriously, at least half, if not more, of this series is downright filler. And I swear that a good fourth of every episode is the characters taking the time to tell us that anyone with half a brain already knows. Couple this pointless exposition with the repeated animation and literally half of every episode is essentially wasted.

2. This is an *ugly* anime. The backgrounds are washed out, minimal, and lacking in any interesting detail. The character designs are average at best and terribly ugly at worst. The characters rarely move like real people. The monster designs are impossible to take seriously. There is no hint of mood establishing, directorial flair, or style. It's almost completely artless.

3. The soundtrack is even worse. A couple of exceptions aside, it sounds like it was all done by one guy and his cheap synth in about a day or two of recording and writing. It's truly groan worthy.

4. The characters, oh man, the characters. Momoko might just be the worst heroine of all time. (Well, other than Tohru from Fruits Basket.) Her 'character arc' is laughable, her voice actress (in both versions) a squealing nightmare, her personality overbearing, and her intellectual capabilities practically non-existent. None of the other heroes fare much better intelligence-wise, but otherwise they're all winners compared to poor Momoko. I will say that the series handles her required several-episode span of depression better than series like this typically do, though it has the negative side effect of also turning the complete thing into a lifeless drag.

5. Speaking of the characters: can we just all agree that this series has the worst, most ineffectual villains ever? And in an unfortunate twist, they only continue to get worse as the series goes along. I mean, I was absolutely thrilled when the first villain finally bit the dust. I was thinking it could only go up from there. By the time the series was drawing to its close I actually *wanted him back.* Everyone that opposes the girls after him is not only even less threatening than he is, but they also manage to continue to grow steadily more and more annoying, culminating in Potamos, who, at least in the English dub, is the single-most grating character I have ever encountered in animation history. Ever. No exceptions. My hate for this character knows no bounds. Every time she showed up on the screen I fantasized about brutally murdering her, and I was sorely disappointed that she actually got a happy ending.

So, there you have it. I would recommend that you avoid it, but I suppose if you're purposely looking for an awful blast from the past then this might fit the bill. And looking back on it, I do feel a strange, totally unexplained warmth for some of the characters, which makes me think that maybe the whole thing would have worked better as a slice-of-life than as a Sailor Moon clone. Some of the relationships are 'nice,' and it's hard not to like Yousuke, the closest thing that the series has to a male lead. All that aside though, if you're the sort of person who regularly hosts bad movie nights (or perhaps bad anime series weeks?), then this should be on top of your list of things to check out.