Cruel Angel Theses

There’s been a smile on my face this morning ever since the last few minutes of StrikerS 12, and it lasted all the way till breakfast and two episodes of Gigantic Formula; think of it like Lelouch triumphant in his Gawain, or Light grinning in his helicopter, both wearing rictuses of victory. It’s immensely gratifying to know that your predictions were spot on all the while, this being a midway assessment of sorts for three series, namely Nanoha StrikerS, Gigantic Formula, and Darker than Black.

What Author says here regarding recommendations would be valid and applicable, surely, for those like him or Steven, especially the latter, who regards watching anime as a gamble, a potential investment in terms of time and money. The thing is that, having an abundance of the former and by no means requiring the latter, it’s not really applicable to me, which means I personally don’t ask around that much regarding a potential anime that I might want to watch.

But we’ve been there with regards to the subject of taste, haven’t we? Judging from initial appearances is something I’m deign to do, although there are exceptions to that rule, naturally. While Spring ’07 brought along with it an excellent selection of anime, it’s a pity there wasn’t a whole lot of critical opinion accompanying it, for as far as these three go it’s sad to see how those who shun them have been doing so for the wrong reasons.

Excuse me while I digress for a moment. I’m a avowed apologist when it comes to the value of anime, or the perceived value of it at any rate, and here’s why: I believe that a person’s understanding of the structure of an anime is intrinsically linked to the value that he or she assigns to it. The perception of structure here is important due to how the cognition process follows from this point — preconceptions, expectations, and standards are only forthcoming if the viewer successfully identifies the type of anime in the first place.

That being said and done, I’ve written a long tirade regarding the misconceptions surrounding StrikerS before, and it was those feelings of vindication, upon viewing StrikerS 12, that drove me to write about this. Roxas’ take on the matter, for example, shares my thoughts on why StrikerS is getting back on the right track:

One of the most fascinating facets of this group of episodes is the reversal of the usual �cat and mouse� role. The vast majority of the time in fiction, whenever there is a cat and mouse situation, the protagonists are generally the mouse, doing their best to avoid direct confrontation with their overwhelmingly powerful enemy and instead subtly breaking the enemy down, sneaking in to execute surgical strikes, or finding a way to equalize the power disparity.

The opposite is true in StrikerS; the people after the cases rely quite heavily on sneaking around and narrow escapes, proving quite ineffective against Nanoha, Fate, and the other Section Six officers in combat. I�m glad the writers went about providing a challenge for the cast this way, instead of simply providing a more powerful enemy and starting a �power creep� cycle a la DBZ, Naruto, and their awful ilk.

I’m glad that the creative team responsible for Nanoha StrikerS didn’t skimp on originality by rehashing the rollercoaster action from Nanoha A’s all over again. Reading Roxas’ entry about it made me appreciate the battle in episode 12 all the more; as the action converged from several different angles, I felt proud for seeing it out all that way. For this are the fruits of labour that two seasons have given us: the numbers required for the complex battle setups that I see them aspiring to in the coming skirmishes.

As the majestic orchestra score grew in volume, so did my pride, at having the fortune of seeing a franchise come all this way. It’s definitely a far cry from when Nanoha first met Fate and had their little 1 on 1 battles — I mean, just look at where we are now. Budget for fancy things like communication holograms aside, there’s the added bonus of having each and every character have face time, and it’s admittedly brilliant how the writers have managed to do this by multiplying the, uh, Numbers of the antagonists.

I’d like to think that this is how times have progressed, at least in Nanoha’s world. It’s amazing and yet at the same time frustrating to see our much-loved heroines bound down by protocol and annoying things like limiters, but you know what they say about great power and responsibility — fortunately, though, all those rules come with a supportive infrastructure to better assist them in their efforts.

I’m certainly pleased at the direction in which things are heading, for it’s indicate that we’ll be seeing more epic conflict in the vein of episode 12 in the future. This is how battles on a grand scale should be done, with the finesse of a multi-million dollar military-style action movie, taking several inter-linked skirmishes happening at once, complete with undertones of stealth and urgency. I’ll be waiting.

Then there was Gigantic Formula 10-11. It struck me how much the mecha genre has evolved, at least to this state. Part of the problem, as far as I’ve noticed, is how the genre consistently alienates other demographics through the masturbatory nature of what constitutes a mecha. Who needs character development when you can ooh and aah at the shiny exterior, the intricate design, and the overtly phallic nature of the whole thing to begin with? Well, those outside the target audience’s range, is what.

As an example, Steven notes in his Future purchases page, under the list of reasons for his rejecting an anime, that “Gizmo Obsession” is one of them. The reasoning behind it is solid and I don’t blame him; there’s always the potential for a mecha anime to degenerate into a giant robot battle party, at the expense of the pilot’s development.

But GF does things differently. It’s got a strong mecha pedigree, as TJ has duly noted. Is that reason, however, for it to abandon all reason and just degenerate into 26 episodes of humanoid metal beating the crap out of each other? No. Nevermind how twelve mechs wouldn’t really cut it for a series of such length, and how each battle ends with the loser’s mech being assimilated, after a fashion, into the victor’s — it would get old pretty fast.

I’m sure you’ve heard of the Sensitive New Age Guy, a term used to describe males admittedly more in touch with their feminine side than is the norm, which in turn makes them better than those alpha males who know jack about women. Likewise, I think that what we’re seeing here with GF’s structure is something more close to a Sensitive New Age Mecha than we’ve ever seen before. I’d have to attribute it to a need to return to the basics of storytelling, which was what I was reminded of as I was staring at Shingo and Mana’s bodysuit designs.

There’s an duality in GF that lifts it above its contemporaries, namely because it’s something that, as much as it might seem contrived, comes off as genuine once you realise that it’s not trying to tell a story for story’s sake. There’s the all too familiar situations or emotions that the pilots feel or go through that resonate with the viewer. It’s a fine balance, and while budget constraints might hold it back in terms of mecha face time or battle length, I’m of the opinion that it’ll do, at least for now.

from now on I’ll be equating Kiko’s appearance with subtle bits of humour, because the Death Note reference, together with the breaking of the fourth wall and her fangirl side, was so unexpected

Finally, after watching Darker than Black 11-14, I’m as convinced as ever that it’s in the same league as Cowboy Bebop when it comes to evoking mood, something I call “deep melancholy” — as a pervasive aesthetic, it helps enhance the mood and feel of the show, and is precisely why I find it to be a consistent performer, arc after arc, fortnight after fortnight.

Take for example the past arc — I’d have to say that it speaks volumes about a show when the Contractor of the day doesn’t have to reply on flashy powers to drive home the impact of the story. The PANDORA infiltration arc stood out to me as one of the more underwhelming, yet ultimately powerful performances so far. DtB has always rewarded second and third viewings of its episodes, and it’s nice to note how little clues scattered throughout the Zenpen half of the arc always make sense once the Kouhen half comes around.

But dropping hints in a mystery genre fashion aren’t the only things going for it; there’s the subject matter of the gate, for instance, and its significance in this episode. It’s explicitly stated that you can only retrieve what you lost inside the wall at a price, but what price did Nick, Hei, and Mina pay? More importantly, what did they receive for that price?

I’m of the impression that Mina, for starters, found love again. It’s noted that she blushes at key points during her dialogue with Hei in episode 12, going to unnecessary lengths to show her concern for him, even exclaiming at one point that she doesn’t know why she’s doing this when she hasn’t done anything of the sort before. She’s found going to Hei’s room just after he leaves, and she sheds tears when she realises what’s happened, or what she thinks has happened, inside Hell’s Gate. In that way she finds how it is to love for someone, at the price of her grief at losing Hei.

Hei found his sister again, and I’m sure we don’t have to elaborate on that, but what about Nick? The rocket sequence was a bit puzzling at first, since it seemed so surreal and out of place in the serious setting of DtB, but it could be that he found his dreams of flying into outer space with his sister, literally. At what price? The murders that he committed in order to retrieve the meteor fragment would be my best guess.

This is where the “deep melancholy” part kicks in — the Hell’s Gate at this point seemed to me like a metaphor for hope, a beacon of light in a hopelessly broken world afflicted with Contractors and Dolls. Here were people who had dreams, who were looking for things, and they found them at a cost. Mina’s life has changed for the better, although her memory of Hei will always hurt. Nick, who most likely died, achieved his dreams at the cost of his life. Lastly, Hei found his sister, at the cost of what was presumably a friendship with Nick.

Speaking of meteor fragments, I loved how the characters did everything but talk about the meteor itself — to state the obvious, this was great storytelling at work. Obviously, the reasoning here is as follows: if there were meteor fragments, then there must be a meteor, and if there was a meteor, then it could have most likely been the cause for Hell’s Gate. Yet you don’t find any character talking to each other about it, because it’s mutual knowledge that there was a meteor to begin with. Which means that the only way a viewer will grasp the situation is by reading between the lines, and when was the last time an anime did that?

Yin’s arc was equally good, and although there wasn’t much that was revealed about how she became a Doll, they might just elaborate on that in another arc. It’s about time she got some backstory, and for all the “meh” powers of the enemy contractors this time around, I thought Hei was rather imba when he managed to escape death by giving his heart a little jolt. Still far better than that lousy freezing power of November 11, if you ask me.