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As an adaptation of a 1960s manga, the plot of Blue Submarine No. 6 may seem trite now: a mad scientist has flooded the Earth as punishment for humanity's hubris and pollution, and now the remaining human forces struggle against his army of genetically-engineered beastmen and sea-monsters. The idea of sympathetic villains choosing to take radical action in the face of environmental destruction isn't new by now, and the conclusion--which basically espouses that war will never end unless both sides put down their arms and establish a dialogue--is typical of Japan's postwar genre fiction. However this is all brought to life majestically by Gonzo, as ... they portray a world of sunken buildings and sweltering, seafaring communities eking out a living in the post-apocalypse, though most of the OVA's runtime is dedicated to the genius monster and ship designs, which share a distinct visual language and evoke a world where they've evolved in tandem over years of intense warfare. Though some of the CG comes off as dated, it's always handled with style and a certain level of abstraction which keeps it from coming off as hokey. And while the basic premise of Blue Submarine No. 6 may seem facile nowadays, when environmental collapse is a reality and not just a hypothetical to wax philosophy about, but the ending somewhat complicates the message and the overall art direction, creature/machine designs, and soundtrack really elevate it.

Unlike the first "movie" this one distinguishes itself much more clearly from the TV show, despite having a 30-minute runtime. Character designs and color palettes are notably different, Kino looks a bit more grown-up, and the (in)famous grain filter of the TV series is nowhere to be found. The story structure is the same as usual: Kino visits a mysterious country, becomes acquainted with his ways, and then uncovers the dark secret behind it. I didn't find this story to be particularly outstanding next to the TV series, but it does have some memorable moments, like Hermes trying to strike up conversation with an inanimate ... motorbike, or Kino having a gunfight in a room full of surveillance screens. The titular "country" is also one of the most visually interesting in the series, though the story itself is a bit on-the-nose. (The little girl is called "Inertia," really?) Anyway, this doesn't feel so "essential" for fans of the TV show as the first movie, since it's more of its own thing, but it's certainly worth watching and it's not like there's a ton of Kino out there, either.

For all intents and purposes this "movie" is just an extra episode of the TV show: it's produced in virtually the exact same style, and only has a slightly-longer runtime since it doesn't have to worry about ads. Fans of the show should watch this as well, especially since it goes into Kino's backstory. (Personally I'd no idea this movie existed until yesterday, so it was a real treat to come across it after years of appreciating the show.) As for the rest of my thoughts, you can refer to my Kino's Journey review: a hypnotic, melancholy, fabulistic and utterly unique series with an art ... style to die for.

If Gunbuster announced the birth of Gainax, Diebuster does the same for Trigger, although the studio wouldn't actually exist until years later. It revisits the story of hope and determination of Gunbuster and rephrases it for a new generation. It doesn't have a lot of new things to say, but it's savvy in its reuse of Gunbuster's most iconic gestures and moments, and has a very touching ending. More to the point, it's exemplary of the visual language that Trigger would later become known for, with its squiggly character designs and sensory-overload action scenes ocurring at mind-boggling, cosmic scale. It's a great example of a ... show that increases exponentially in scale with every episode. In a way it feels more like a celebration of Gunbuster than its own thing, but it's also a ton of fun, and it's not like Gunbuster doesn't merit celebration.

Gunbuster is a sort of revision of the mecha genre based on the Yukio Mishima quote "The perfectly ordinary girl and the great philosopher are alike: for both, the smallest triviality can become the vision that wipes out the world." At its heart is a visceral coming-of-age story about looking up to the great people in your life and then seeing them beaten and broken by the world just like everyone else, and having to find the strength within you to become your own person. Though it has a lot of the trappings of 80s "hard sci-fi," it is obviously disinterested in following the rules ... compared to its interest in materializing the emotional landscapes of its characters. In that sense, it's a very clear precursor to the "sekai-kei" genre. In its treatment of cosmology and even the physical universe as an extension of our turbulent inner worlds, and its portrayal of youth as an inexhaustible engine of optimism against the uncaring void of existence, it's also the germ to the entire Gainax ethos which would be repeated by Evangelion, Gurren Lagann, and (of course) Diebuster. If I don't give it a higher rating it's because it's ultimately not my thing, but anyone trying to play this one off as "mid" or "over-the-top" is ignorant or soulless or both.

A lurid, Gothic drama told with decadent flair and style over three episodes. The story is actually quite straightforward, though there is a supporting cast that feels largely disconnected from it, and seems to be off on their own sub-plot which more closely resembles a supernatural battle anime, and is far less interesting. The OVA's conclusion, though visually incredible, is a tonally off with the rest of the show, given its triumphant mood. However I was really taken by Cossette aesthetically; I just wish the premise had been carried to a more natural conclusion, instead of something that slightly smells of shounen. This anime is ... sometimes billed as horror; don't expect any "scary" horror here, only the aesthetic trappings of Gothic fiction (and Lolita fashion).

Despite not having a particularly show-off-y budget, Hyouge Mono is a very dynamic and flamboyant show on account of its brazen artistic choices, which inject some animated flair into a tragic comedy about the struggle for Japan's aesthetic identity during the Warring States period. Protagonist Sasuke is one of the most memorable in anime, a lecherous aesthete ill-suited for warfare, but sly and loved by fortune, not to mention endowed with a modern sensibility that endears him to the audience. He's sketched out in a remarkably literary way. His expressions are unforgettable, too. The show is peppered with fantastic characters, some are historical cartoons and ... others seem to be wholly fictitious (I'm not sure), but the other standout is the monk Sen no Rikkyu, the foremost proponent of the "simple" or "weathered" aesthetic that would come to define Japanese artisanship and aesthetic philosophy for generations to come. His presence is commanding, divine, almost Buddha-like, and the show does a great job of conveying that. Sasuke's detour-filled quest for power, notoriety, and then enlightenment is contrasted with the high-level political power-playing that Rikkyu conducts from his modest tea room. Although the first half of Hyouge Mono has better pacing and a comedic side that's better-suited to the animated medium, the second half is undeniable for its standout episodes and for its overall tone of tragedy as it races towards its inevitable end. I could go on about how refreshing it is to watch such a literary and distinguished show in the wasteland of seasonal softcore and battle shounen and whatever, but if you're reading Hyouge Mono reviews you probably don't need to be told all that. And despite being a very "functional" show, Hyouge Mono does not waste the formal advantages of animation.

It's hard for me to review Boogiepop because by my own admission it's a hard show to follow. The story is told in non-linear fashion as the backgrounds and viewpoints of half-a-dozen characters intersect and are then analyzed independently and episodically. Individual episodes jump back and forth along the timeline as they fill in gaps regarding a supernatural incident that gave various people in a city special powers, or changed their lives permanently. However it's hard to argue with Boogiepop's lighting, ambiance, shot composition, or soundtrack, all of which are top-quality. It's the kind of laconic show that won't hold your hand and seems primarily ... concerned with identity in the digital age; it can certainly be seen as a companion piece with Serial Experiments Lain, and a foundational part of the Japanese "denpa" subgenre. I think it merits another watch or two before I can get into anything beyond its aesthetic qualities, but it makes for an amazing watch anyway.

I haven't read the original novel, but from the start it was clear to me that Battle Fairy Yukikaze was an adaptation of an older work. It's an odd mix of background paintings that feel taken straight out of mid-70s sci-fi novels, and digital-anime characters that look like obvious redesigns of much older ones, what with their bell-bottom pants and gaunt, Matsumoto-esque expressions. It straddles a line similar to other 2000s remakes like Cyborg 009 and Golgo 13, which I find comforting. It's a plangently philosophical story about humanity's battle with a fundamentally unknowable alien and eventually with itself. The plane-combat action scenes are fantastic, ... with hypnotic after-effects and liberal use of jagged, CG assets which look surprisingly great in-context. It can be hard to follow as the main story is connected to many noided subjects and clearly used a springboard for commentary on the Cold War and Japan's post-war position on the world stage. We won't see this type of massive-budget vanity OVA again, especially one so squarely aimed at adults. It should be treasured.

The second pair of YKK OVAs feels quite different, and worse. There's an attempt to emulate the meditative qualities of the first, but the sort of chibi-fied character designs and flat coloring feel like artistic sacrifices made for the sense of "more" animation, and this ends up not being the case at all, so... what happened there. The soundtrack and background paintings have also taken noticeable hits, even if the original OVA wasn't always a looker it had a sense of atmosphere. Here there's a lot of surprisingly uninteresting scenes which fail to take advance of YKK's unique setting and instead seem to be going ... for a "comfy small-town show" vibe. There are also some attempts to inject titillation into the story, which seem really misguided.