This, my friends, is how the ideal blogosphere should be (all links open in a new window). An epic show, bloggers inspired to write about it, bloggers writing said inspired posts that are so inspirational, they inspire other bloggers to write posts that are even more inspired than ever, so much that they up the ante on the anticipation factor every week. As it is, despite my 100~ odd posts that I still need to read, posts I still need to write, and a backlog still looming, I can’t resist stopping the presses for kimikiss. It’s that good.

To kick things off, if I may an analogy: assuming that relationships are like battles of the physical variety, then Honey and Clover was a sniping one. It had the occasional epic stand-off and various impasses, feints, and manoeuvres that made it all the more exciting, as self-respecting snipers are wont to do when they go at it. It was hard-hitting, like a shot from an AWP generally does on a human body — being on the receiving edge of one one too many times during CounterStrike, I should know. For all purposes it was powerful, even if it took a long time to resolve.

kimikiss, on the other hand, has been visceral. It started off like any other skirmish before degenerating into an outright war, and the stakes are getting higher as time passes, like the four Gundam Meisters being held up for half a day or so in their mechs. While H&C had lofty ambitions that worked and wasn’t contrived or anything, I do think that the two sets of triangles were “safer” in the sense that they were pre-defined in their boundaries. You didn’t see Morita suddenly deciding to take that hand-holding consoling with Yamada to another level, or Mayama suddenly giving Hagu the once-over. All that crossover possibility was sealed off pretty nicely.

A competitive gaming (sports, board game, etc) series will inevitably choose to major in one of two areas, both of which are crucial in determining how wide or specialised an audience it will snag: the first, drama; the second, jargon. While the second is important in tapping to a pre-existing fanbase and ensuring a dedicated following, the first is by no means unimportant — too much emphasis on jargon leaves the non-fan alienated, something no self-respecting author or animation studio would want to do.

it’s tough love, making fun of your target audience is

In my idealist world of adaptations, movies like the abomination that was the Death Note live action would never exist. It was good as a movie for movie’s sake, but not good enough for my higher standards. Neither was it a case of source material fan bias — for what it’s worth, the only thing an adaptation should do is contain the essence of the original, the brilliance that made people sit up and gape in wonder, and this is where the Death Note movie didn’t work for me.

If it isn’t obvious already, neither did the Honey and Clover movie. Sitting down to watch it with a small group of close friends, I viewed it again through the eyes of a newcomer to Chika Umino’s colourful little world. Yes, it’s very pretty, but what does it do? A convoluted, dizzying effort that tried to cram in the heartbreak of 36 episodes or 10 volumes, which just didn’t seem right to me. Maybe it’s the cynical bias, but I’ll leave that to you to decide.