Psycho-Pass as a work of Artistic Satanism

I know what you are thinking, Psycho-Pass and Christianity? Artistic Satanism? Morality? Is this guy for real? Or has Oscar, finally gone off the deep end? Is he trolling? What is this?

 

Fortunately, for everyone, I have not gone bonkers, todavia no se me ha ido la olla, other such expressions, etc. Neither am I trolling—I think. I am, possibly, being serious.

No, ladies and gentlemen, brothers and sisters, comrades and friends, fellow primates; I only wish to present to you my theory that Psycho-Pass is a radical interpretation of the Judeo-Christianity myth through the lens of artistic Satanism. I do not know if anyone else has thought of this but as far as I know it is an original idea and I can claim it as my own.

First, a clarification is in order. Artistic Satanism has nothing to do with traditional medieval or modern day Satanism, in other words, no devil worship or evil behavior and rituals are involved. It is, rather, an intellectual tradition that goes to back to the Age of Enlightenment and extends even to our own day.

The point of departure for this lofty tradition is found in John Milton’s stunning and awe-inspiring Paradise Lost in which the great poet re-imagined Satan as a more sympathetic and, in a manner of speaking, “human” character, as opposed to the purely evil caricature found in older Christian tales and in Christian theology.

 

That Milton himself did not intend to do this is, at bottom, irrelevant—as William Blake famously said, Milton was of the Devil’s Party without knowing it.

Later readers, like Blake and Byron, reinterpreted Paradise Lost as a work with a “Promethean” theme and message. In this reading, God is seen as an evil tyrant—a view supported by the Bible and Milton’s epic—and Satan as a flawed hero. This vision was then elaborated further by other artists and intellectuals for whom Satan became a symbol of political and cultural liberty and artistic creativity.

 

This perspective can be found in Nietzsche’s works (BG&E, Twilight of the Idols, and so on and so on) and—in our own day and in a more popular frame of reference—in songs like Metallica’s “The Four Horsemen” in which the lyrics are written from the point of view of someone who fights against the agents of the apocalypse—agents of God now viewed as evil and enemies of mankind.

A revaluation of values, then, is the imperative in this tradition.

So much for artistic Satanism, but where does this leave us with regards to Psycho-Pass?

 

If one pays attention to Psycho-Pass one will notice that religion is completely missing from the show—just like in Orwell’s 1984.

 

This is because, as in the aforementioned novel, the criticism of totalitarianism here is absolute and thus encompasses the criticism of religion—the first and ultimate expression of totalitarianism.

The absence of religion is also necessitated by the internal logic of the show. The Sibyl System is, first and foremost, a method of population control. Religions are, likewise, systems of control, but the Sibyl System cannot afford to have competitors—just like any real totalitarian system.

 

These are, then, the first two clues to understand the true thematic spirit of the show. The most innovative and distinctive aspect of Abrahamic religion, as Nietzsche noted, is that it did not merely set up one god as the most important one, as the primus inter pares, but as the only real god while all other gods were either denied any reality or conceived as evil divinities—it is God who invents the Devil.

Similarly, the Sibyl System declares itself the only legitimate form of government and denounces all others as flawed forms which lead to chaos.

Furthermore, the more one compares God and the Sibyl System the more similarities one is bound to find. Heaven’s awful monarch views all disobedience, even the smallest deviation from its imperious decrees, as immoral. This is also the case with the Sibyl System.

Sibyl and Milton’s God issue diktats which are impossible for humans to obey. In spite of their knowledge that free will is a fiction, and that all actions and thoughts are determined or even predetermined, they penalize those who disobey as if they had freely chosen to rebel.

Like true totalitarians, they punish people for thought crimes and “felt” crimes: feeling the wrong emotions is subject to penalization. Breaking the laws is unnecessary, the mere thought or impulse to do so is sufficient to result in a verdict of guilt. To be accused is to be guilty; innocence is not a possible verdict in their jurisprudence.

Consider, for instance, Ginoza’s struggle to keep his psycho-pass coefficient within acceptable levels.

 

The effort he invests in this is an expression of his fear and loyalty towards Sibyl—the two exact sentiments that God and totalitarian tyrants demand—but also of his fear of, and contempt for, those who failed to follow Sibyl’s principal injunction (itself a parallel of God’s order to keep one’s purity) like his father or his former friend Kogami.

The drill is actually a trap, as the exercise is guaranteed to increase the levels of anxiety of the person practicing it, which will manifest itself as a higher coefficient figure, landing the faithful in a vicious circle from which the only escape is falling: precisely the outcome that befalls to Nobuchika.

This is the obvious and intended consequence as it ensures the increase of “criminal elements” which can be paraded and displayed to others as a warning of what happens to those who disobey, thus encouraging and enforcing stricter and more complete submission to Sibyl.

Additionally, it must be pointed out that Sibyl, like Yahweh/Allah, does not abide by the legal and moral code it imposes on others. Yahweh, in the Bible acts like a psychopath, Sibyl is composed of a collective of psychopaths. And, finally, just like God the Sibyl System assumes a “human” form—actually a robot with synthetic skin—in order to communicate with its human vassals. Here, Chief Kasei takes the place of Christ and the prophets.

 

Into this toxic environment steps Shogo Makishima, the satanic figure of the series.

 

Like Satan with relation to God, Makishima shares the same nature as the Sibyl system, he is psychopathic. Unlike Sibyl, and God, and very much like the Miltonian Satan, Makishima the great shows no desire to become a tyrant and thus rejects Sibyl and plots its destruction.

 

And we should remember the most salient traits of Makishima’s personality, he’s rational, intellectual, and has a fondness for art and culture. Not to mention that his fine white hair and the clear color of his dazzling eyes, also allude to Satan’s first name in Judeo-Christian myth: Lucifer, meaning “shining star.”

Makishima’s thoughts on the Sibyl System

As is the case with Milton’s Satan, some of Makishima’s actions are morally questionable at best, but his in-roads into immorality only serve to highlight the “benign” dictator’s greater evil given how Sibyl, like Milton’s God, permits and even wishes for these acts of evil to take place in order to fulfill its plans: the acquisition of a new brain for the collective, in Sibyl’s case, and the chance to offer “Redemption” in God’s case.

With regards to both—this should almost go without saying—the purpose of the exercise is done ad majorem dei gloriam (or ad majorem Sibyl gloriam) rather than necessity. The “Redemption” only becomes necessary, and something worth receiving in light of the “Fall” caused by God through Satan, while Sibyl does not require Makishima’s brain to function. Caprice and greed are at work here, not benevolence.

As in the struggle between Good and Evil, the artists’ Satan and God, the interaction of these two rivals with humanity at large is the crucial element and what resolves what would otherwise be an eternal battle. In Psycho-Pass, the inhabitants and citizens of Japan take the place of humanity both before and after the Fall and the expulsion from the Garden of Eden, and various characters possess and share the traits of Adam, Lilith, Eve, Cain, Abel, and Seth.

Makishima promises knowledge of the truth, a decision to follow one’s own moral imperatives. His gift is the forbidden Apple. His counsel to his fellow countrymen is to use their reasoning abilities. He speaks in one voice with Byron’s Satan in Cain:

Think and endure,—and form an inner world
In your bossom—where the outward fails;
So shall you nearer be the spirtual
Nature, and war triumphant with your own.”

There is an old Soviet Joke about a Russian in art gallery viewing a painting of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden and when questioned, as a joke, about which nationality he would assign them, he replies—quite seriously—that they must be Soviet citizens. They find themselves with no clothes, no shelter, forbidden from consuming luxury goods, and they are told that this is paradise.

The situation that Makishima finds in Japan is in essence quite similar. While material wealth is obviously abundant, the inner life of man has been fundamentally debased by the Sibyl System. All art that does not conform to its standards and which can cause anxiety, which means all genuine art, is forbidden and only those whose work in music, literature, and the visual arts poses no threat to emotional stability.

Human relationships have taken two dichotomous routes, either the road of superficial attachment—represented by most people—or the route of exploitation: the basis of the relationship between the enforcers and the investigators. Alienation has become the norm and it is so complete that people are incapable of acting as moral agents—to the point that they cannot comprehend, let alone prevent, a blatant act of murder committed in the middle of a crowded street. The essentially the life that God had planned for Humans had the “Fall” not occurred.

What Makishima promises is not salvation, let alone paradise—the promise of the Sibyl System for the pure and chosen few—but simply, “an ordinary life for ordinary people.” The life he offers is a life of trial, of suffering, but it is a human life and a fulfilling one.

While fighting his battle against Sibyl, Makishima comes across the opportunity to test the subjects of the system that have taken up the task of enforcing compliance to its edicts, and reveal the true face of their ruler. Satan is, after all, known as a tempter and seducer. And it is his interactions with, and the effects of his actions on, Kogami, Tsunemori, and Kagari which serve to bring out this conflict between good and evil, and each has the chance to personify Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel.

Kogami is, as we know, the first to be tempted by his confrontations with Makishima.

 

And his path, of guilty rebellion—in the manner of Adam and Even—followed by open rebellion, the way of Cain, is foreordained by his inner impulses, modified by the environment which surrounds him, to what he perceives as a threat. Kogami, contrary to what some people might believe, does not become a criminal when he openly rebels against Sibyl and takes it upon himself to kill Makishima.

 

He falls from grace the second he decides to continue the investigation on the Makishima case which occurs prior to the beginning of the series. That is when he commits the unforgivable crimethink. The moment he takes that resolution is the moment that he takes it upon himself to decide what is right and wrong, when he discovers knowledge of good and evil. His choice to then take justice into his own hands is merely the consequence of that first act of disobedience.

Thus we can see that in seizing the right to determine his own moral values, to redefine his ethical concepts, Kogami reflects Eve’s rebellion against God’s Law. When he claims the power over life and death, wresting the monopoly of ultimate violence from Sibyl, he acts in the spirit of Cain, which necessitates his expulsion from the protection of the divine and, like Cain, Kogami is forced to go underground.

Part of the irony of the show lies in the fact that while Kogami does exact vengeance upon Makishima, in the guise of “justice,” showcasing his evolution from a mind-slave to an independent agent, this development was only made possible by the actions of the man Kogami hates the most. In the end, Makishima, by liberating Kogami, emerges victorious in their struggle.

Victorious even in death.

 

Tsunemori faces the same challenges as Kogami, but her innermost personality, reacts to them in crucially different way.

 

 

In her own way, Tsunemori acquires the forbidden knowledge of good and evil but, contrary to Kogami, she rejects her own moral valuations and submits herself even more determinedly to the arbitrary rule of heaven. It is worth pointing out that Tsunemori only becomes a moral agent as a consequence of the actions of others—like Adam in the Bible who follows Eve into sin, but does not sin of his own will and due to his own inclinations.

 

Finally, and to clarify what exactly gaining “knowledge of good and evil” means within the story, I will turn to a key plot development of the show.

 

Shusei Kagari, it will be freely conceded, is only a minor character and exists mainly as a plot device—to provide the audience with a glimpse of the true nature of the Sibyl dictatorship. Nevertheless, he is essential to illustrate how the metaphor of gaining God’s forbidden knowledge is represented in the show.

Kagari is, like Milton, secretly of the Devil’s party. He hates and despises the Sibyl System and his repression of this resentment is not exceedingly successful. Of all the enforcers we see he is one who, by instinct, is the most disposed to rebel—in this we also see traces of Satan, Cain, and Eve.

However, he still acquiesces to the judgments of the Sibyl System. He remains, at bottom, one of the faithful and believes in the judgments made by the System because he considers the moral deliberations and verdicts of Sibyl to be beyond his ability to comprehend, let alone emulate, since he is under the impression that it is an impartial program that makes these decisions.

And yet, when he finally sees the true face of the system he realizes that the understanding of morality was always within his reach because Sibyl is in essence the product of human reasoning and thus, inherently flawed and not essentially superior to the thoughts of other humans. Like Adam and Even in the Garden, like Cain outside the Garden, he has become as a god.

It is only logical, and the inescapable outcome of this revelation and completely in line with the text and spirit of the Genesis story, that he should be sentenced to death.

Conclusion and TL;DR: Thus we can see that it is clear that in Psycho-Pass, with the combination of the intellectual and artistic Makishima, the totalitarian Sibyl System, and the development of the characters, we see a strain of the intellectual tradition of artistic satanism in our own day and in the anime medium.

So, what do you guys think?

RWBY Volume 4 Review.

So, RWBY‘s Volume 4 ended last Saturday and by now I think we—the fans of the show—have all had a chance to watch that last episode and, perhaps, take a few moments to think about this volume.

Overall, I liked it.

Yes, the action which—along with the designs of the characters—is what drew people to the show initially, did take a bit of a backseat this season. There weren’t nearly as many fights this season as there were in previous ones, or at least that is the impression one gets from this volume. And most of them were not that exciting.

However, the fight against Tyrian, Salem’s Scorpion Faunus minion—and abject adulator—which spanned across two episodes, and involved six people, was simply amazing. It was definitely great to see two adult and fully trained fighters do battle.

In any case, the lack of action makes sense giving what happened at the end of Volume 3. All the characters, our main characters in particular, needed a bit of development and a bit of time to overcome the traumas of those last episodes of Volume 3, as well as their own personal inhibitions. All four members of the main cast, who were not together at any point this season, do rather well, and their personal stories, for the most part, come across as genuine.

The one exception to this was Weiss. Her development arc is just too cliché. All the elements of it are things we have seen before. The tyrannical and greedy father, who is not really a true member of the family—he’s actually a social climber, simply someone who married into the family—cynical and politically, and socially, myopic. The envious sibling who plots from the shadows in order to maneuver everything to a point where he will be the ultimate beneficiary.

The amiable butler who seems to be the person really running the house and who helps out the heroine. The absentee mother, probably terminally ill, who doesn’t really have a say in anything. The callous and flippant and superficial aristocracy. And, of course, the heroine who is alienated from her family and her society and who prefers the company of the staff to that of her own family.

Were we spared anything? Definitely doesn’t seem like it.

Among our antagonists, I am sad to say that we barely saw Mercury and Emerald, two interesting and visually striking characters—not to mention entertaining as well—very much this season. Of the new antagonists to which we were introduced we really only saw much of Tyrian, who is sadly, as far as his personality goes, very much an incarnation of the clichéd craven follower of the Big Bad. Salem, the Big Bad herself, remains being mysterious. We still do not know much about her motivations, although we do know that she can pretend to be caring and fair towards her subordinates when she wants.

Cinder, however, was quite engaging to watch. It was almost touching to see her barely able to speak, completely humbled, and physically weak and scarred. One might almost begin to feel sorry for her—if only one forgot that she did kill Pyrrha Nikos and helped to bring about the fall of Vale in the third volume.

We do see that she is put through an exhaustive training regime by Salem in order to learn how to master her Maiden powers and recover from Ruby’s Silver Eyes God-mode attack and regain her strength. It is also visible that she feels less than enthusiastic about the psychic states of at least one of her allies, and that her feelings towards Salem seem to become a bit more antagonistic as the volume progresses.

Aside from the character development this volume also serve to set up what is going to happen in the following volumes, it is in that sense as well a transitional arc. What we have to look forward to will be the impact of Atlas self-imposed isolation on the rest of Remnant. How the fall of Mistral and Haven academy will be achieved is also of particular interest and will be exciting. And, of course, Cinder’s next encounter with team RWBY and their allies.

Plot and characters aside, the artwork—as I have said elsewhere—the animation and art of the show has improved by leaps and bounds, the new program that RT has chosen to use for RWBY is definitely more fitting for such a fantastic series than the previous reliable but amateurish program they used. The music is up to the same standards that we have come to expect from Jeff Williams and I will be sure to buy the soundtrack and the score as soon as they are released.

The dialogue, unfortunately, is still the show’s weakest spot. It averages out to the acceptable, and the humor is pretty good, but there are still far too many cheesy lines thrown out, and the timing for the jokes could do with a real improvement.

An Apology… and why I liked Rogue One

I have neglected this blog for far too long. While trying to balance everything in my life when I started to feel pressure it seems that I chose to neglect this blog. Well, that is something that I’ll fix before the year ends—for me—and something I’ll keep in mind for this year.

Hopefully, there are still people around who wish to read me. If not, I hope I will acquire some new readers. It should not be that hard, there are a ton of things to look forward to in the arts, especially film and anime/manga, for this year and a lot of things to keep us talking about culture and society throughout it.

So, getting back to business, let’s talk about that new Star Wars film

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By now I have seen Rogue One three times in the theaters. The first time I was lucky enough that one of my friends paid for the ticket. I thought I was in for another huge disappointment in the Star Wars­ universe after last year’s The Force Awakens­­.

You know what is coming now, of course. You know I’m going to praise the film. You have just read through the formulaic throat-clearing. Perhaps it was even cliché. Well, then let’s move on and see if we can avoid being more cliché while staying clear of spoilers.

I do want to make clear that I do not find Rogue One to be the best Star Wars film to date, let alone the best film ever, nor do I find the film to be flawless. I will simply go through the list of reasons that I can think of to justify the fact that I liked the film.

 

First of all, we may have the most original Star Wars film as far as characters go. At last we have a Star Wars film in which the main characters are regular people. Our “heroine” is, doubtlessly, resilient and stubborn and tough, but unlike previous leading female characters in the franchise, indeed in contrast to one in particular, almost everything she does is improvised and her survival always comes by the skin of her teeth.

She does not know how to do everything, she does not have a witty retort to everything, and she does not maintain her composure at all times. She is as dependent on her comrades for survival as they are on her, and has a clear knowledge that without them she cannot actually do anything substantial. At best, she can get by on her own.

Neither is she a woman or girl of unbreakable idealism. To the contrary, she is, as most people with her background would be, just someone looking for a peaceful life unwilling to risk herself. It is only the circumstances in which she finds herself and her few emotional attachments that push her into a heroic role.

(spoilers, the scene above was not present in the film).

The same goes for the rest of the cast. Though Captain Cassian Andor is an experienced and sklled intelligence officer for the Alliance and a good enough fighter he is not the ace of the Rebels. Bodhi Rook is a competent pilot, but not much more than that, and constantly struggles to assert himself. Chirrut Imwe, the closest thing to a Jedi in this film (he does seem able of manipulate the force to some extent) would be nothing without Baze Malbus, his friend and bodyguard. Our characters become heroes by will and by accident.

This “normalcy”, as it were, extends even to the main antagonist of the film, Director Krennic, who for all his grandstanding and ruthless demeanor is unable to be in complete control at all times—a far cry from Moff Tarkin or Vader or Sidious who always appeared to be on top of everything that came their way, whose schemes could only be thwarted by the most unexpected of outcomes and near-miracles.

I would of course like to rave about K-2SO, the first droid we have seen in the Star Wars who is capable of thinking, hacking into computer systems, and fighting. R2 could only do the first two, and C-3PO only the first, while the droids of the Separatists were only proficient in the third, we never saw them actually thinking or doing anything else other than killing or trying to kill enemy soldiers.

Secondly, and this is related to the first point, we have a cast that knows how to act or rather, we have a director who knows what to do with the talents at his disposal and how bring out the best performances he can from them. It helps that most of the cast happen to be gifted actors, and that the script was free of cringe-worthy dialogue: there are no power convertors that need to be picked up from a Tosche station here, no monologues about the dreadfulness of sand, and no wanna-be Casanova talk in this film. The characters act and speak as one would expect them to do so.

Thirdly, this is the grittiest and darkest Star Wars film to date. In tone, and not only in tone, this is much more a traditional war film than a Star Wars feature. It has more in common with Black Hawk Down or Saving Private Ryan than the other films of the series—as other critics have already remarked. In this film, an attack on a city means exactly what you would expect it to mean, the slaughter and destruction of civilian lives. Facing a superior force means what it usually means in real life—an overwhelming defeat.

The action itself is exhausting, and meant to be exhausting, rather than an explosion fest for the sake of entertainment in the style of Michael Bay. The increase in scale and destructive scope is also gradual, from small encounters to skirmishes to the final all-out battle at the end of the film, and it parallels the development of the plot. This means that when the final battle begins it has its proper air of grandiosity and solemnity. The ending itself presents us with a competitor for the second darkest and most tragic end to a Star Wars saga.

Fourthly, while the plot is not the most original thing we have seen in Star Wars but it develops at a steady pace and the plot-twists, brought about by the an accumulation of contingencies rather than a grand master plan, allows the film to have breathing space and to change from what is a mere reconnaissance and intelligence mission to a battle for the future of the republic.

Fifthly, the film—in stark contrast to The Force Awakens—does its best not to rely on nostalgia. The score is absolutely different, main characters from previous films are almost completely absent; most of the familiar faces are of side-characters of the Original Trilogy. And in spite of the fact that world-building for this film was constrained by the fact that it takes place right before the events of the first film and thus finds itself in a world that is already very detailed, it does its best to present us with new vistas and technological achievements in the Star Wars universe. All the planets and moons we see in the film, bar the familiar moon of Yavin IV, are new additions to the franchise. Even some of the ships are things we have never seen before.

As I said, this film is far from perfect. It’s main flaw, I would say, is that it is an anthology film. I believe that it will be difficult for those who are not already fans of the franchise to be interested in this film, unless they are willing to read up a bit on Wikipedia about the universe in which this film is set.

 

Overall, I rate this film rather highly, probably a solid eight and heartily recommend it to other viewers.

Anime Review: Orange Episode 2

I have to say that it is a pleasure to watch a series that takes to introduce its characters to the audience and to develop them. And this is what Orange does in its second episode—I have heard that they have actually adapted one chapter per episode so far, one can only hope that they will not rush things as the series progresses.

This episode we are given broader and deeper views of the personalities of some of its main characters, Naho and Kakeru.

In this episode, we see Suwa and Kakeru bonding over sports and seeing Kakeru begin to overcome some of his natural shyness through the prompting of his new friends. Meanwhile, Naho has to learn how to deal with her new found feelings for Kakeru and the news that she receives from the future that Kakeru will die at some point in the future. I must admit that it is rather sweet to watch Naho struggle with her new feelings and with the fear of rejection and public embarrassment. Fortunately, for her, Kakeru shares her feelings, although seeing how dense they both are it might take them a while to actually realize that their feelings are mutual.

She also learns that it is not so easy to follow the instructions she receives from the future in the letters addressed to her from her future self. In a sense, she discovers that she must actually want to do the things that her future self recommends she should do, rather than simply bowing to the wishes of the future. This is a very realistic depiction of how people would behave if they found themselves in that situation. Selflessness and a desire to please others can only take one so far, after all. The crucial and life-changing decision she makes at the end of the episode is also quite inspiring and admirable.

We also learn this episode that aside from being a very kind and timid girl, Naho is also very motherly. She cooks, she cleans, and she sows for her own pleasure, and is willing to use her skills for the benefit of her friends.

In the background of the episode, we have some commentary about the relationships between parents and their offspring at that stage in their life. Some parents, like Saku’s, begin to encourage independence in their children while others continue to pamper them—absence and presence of parents is an underlying theme in this episode. The episode also touches, albeit rather briefly, on how parents, in this case Naho’s react to first awakenings of romantic and sexual desire in their children.

The music is still underwhelming, but other than that it was an all around enjoyable experience to watch this episode. The animation, of course, is still spectacular.

 

Well, that’s it for now. Like, share, subscribe, and comment if you wish.

 

OFG

Anime Season Overview: Summer 2016

Given how it is too early in the season to write detailed and individual reviews for most of the shows I have chosen to watch, with the exception of Berserk (2016) for which I will write a separate review, I will simply provide a brief summary of the shows I am going to watch this season and my first impressions of them.

First in the list is Orange, a sci-fi, romance, school shoujo anime about a high school girl, Takamiya Naho, who receives letters from herself ten years in the future, which contain instructions of things she has to do in order to avoid feeling regret later on in life. She is also told that one of her friends, a new transfer student, will die at some point in the future, and she is advised to keep an eye on him and stay close to him. That is the basic premise of the show. We also meet her merry group of friends in this first episode, all of whom have a distinct personality; although, to those familiar with the genre, they might seem somewhat cliché. The animation is fluid and the art is beautiful and very colorful, as is often the case with shoujo anime. The opening and the ending themes are rather underwhelming, though. So far there is a lack of actual science fiction elements, it is not explained how letters from the future were delivered to Naho, but since it is only the first episode I don’t think one should worry so much yet. I am told that the show is based on a manga but I have not read it, so it is all new to me. My conclusion is that it looks promising but it might be too early to recommend it to anyone.

Second on the list is Taboo Tattoo a supernatural action shounen. The premise of the show is as follows. The main character, Seigi, is a middle school student who practices judo and has already begun a career as a vigilante justice, beating up robbers and bullies. One day he saves what appears to be a beggar from a couple of thugs. The man in return gives him a special tattoo that turns out to be a secret weapon developed by the United States to fight China (of course, the creators of the anime felt that giving China a different name was somehow necessary). This, inevitably, lands him in a bit of hot water. Apart from establishing the background for the show, this first episode also introduces the other supporting characters. My first impression is that the animation is good, and the designs are great in general, although the childhood friend seems a bit too developed for a middle-schooler. It strikes me like a very entertaining show nevertheless.

The third anime I will talk about is Alderamin on the Sky (if you think I am going to use its Japanese name, you must be off your trolley). This is one is a military fantasy anime. The story is set in the Empire of Katjvarna, and most of the clothing, architecture, and names have an Indian motif, or at least something that could be passed off as Indian—for the most part at least. The Empire is at war with the republic of Kiorka—I have no idea what nation they are based on but we did not see much of it in the first episode. The story will focus on an anti-hero called Ikta and his female friend, Igsem, who is the hero. As for my impressions, I am still undecided whether the honesty with which the show introduces its supporting cast as stock characters is something to be commended or not—hopefully they will get some development as the story progresses. The rest though is good, from the animation to the world building.

Finally, there is 91 Days. This is truly the anime I have been looking forward to the most. It is set in the US during the Prohibition Era and follows a character called Avilio who is seeking revenge against the mafia family that killed his parents and his younger sibling using the illegal bootlegging business to get in contact with them. While the naming of the city in which the story takes place, Lawless, annoys me a bit because it is obviously New York City, the anime is for the most part historically accurate so far, from the clothing to the cars to the buildings to the guns used by the mob men. The animation and style are perfectly suited to the dark theme of the show, very grey and with a lot of dark colors, and the music also fits the time period and mood of the show.

Well, that’s it for now, I will write my review of Berserk and of the two new episodes a bit later.

Don’t forget to like, share, comment, and subscribe.

OFG

P.S. Can any of you really blame me for not having written anything last weekend?

Anime Review: Kiznaiver Episode 12

Years ago, when I was but a high school boy, my English teacher gave our class a simple task: write a short, one-act play, about something. It could be anything, as long as it fit that description. At first I tried to write something serious, but I found myself incapable of doing that, instead I wrote a parody of what I had intended to write. The last episode of Kiznaiver strikes me as being something in the same vein.

In Star Wars, whenever any character says “I’ve got a bad feeling about this”, it’s because, as we know, something terrible is about to happen. Given how I posted that quote in my last review, those of you who read it, should have seen this coming. The episode begins with the parody of Neon Genesis Evangelion that ended the previous episode, and we soon see the writers ditching any attempt at realism, logic—even anime logic—and internal consistency in favor of pure entertainment and action. Suddenly, it is possible for Noriko—a high school sophomore—to control the majority of the people involved in a large-scale scientific and social experiment and to override the authority of the people who are nominally in charge. Not only that, but she somehow manages to take control of the city. Furthermore, the number of Gomorins multiplied insanely quickly and seemingly out of nowhere.

(Exactly my feelings).

On top of all this madness, we are given an insane justification and a sappy conclusion to all this drama. It turns out that Sonozaki does not need anyone else to alleviate her own suffering, all she ever needed to do was to “let go” of other people’s pain, but she didn’t want to do so because she thought that the only way she could relate to other people, and the only way other people could like her, was if they shared their pain. Katsuhira, with the help of his merry band of friends—all of whom agree to remain being friends because… well, they feel like it, I guess—is able to “trigger” a response from Noriko after convincing her that he genuinely likes her and that his feelings for her have nothing to do with the Kizna system—by the way, their conversation is peppered with bizarre interruptions from his friends who rave on about the power of friendship (I kid you not)—and so she is finally able to let go of all the pain that she was holding, and thus Noriko recovered from her fatal condition, regained her sanity, and Katsuhira and his former friends from his childhood were finally able to feel everything again. The Kiznaiver experiment thus ends with the people in charge realizing that the best way for people to develop bonds of friendship is wait for them to occur naturally—which means that they wasted their time and money for nothing.

It was at this moment that I wanted to puke. How easy. How cheap. How cliché. How—lame.

(Flipping tables is better than puking).

As if to compensate for the foregoing, the creators treat us to a happy ending in which the most popular ships finally sail, Noriko and Katsuhira and Yuta and Honoka, while leaving us in suspense about the love triangle composed of Nico, Tenga, and Chidori—who in her last moments appears to be developing feelings for Tenga.

(The silver-lining: first time a couple I ship actually sails).

I guess it could have been worse. And now I will give my final verdict on this anime.

Kiznaiver is a show that starts off slowly and introduces its characters, and the relationships between them, in a rather episodic manner and with a repetitive basic plot-line. The middle of the show improves upon this otherwise lackluster beginning by focusing on character development through both actions and dialogue, which it does—with a few exceptions—rather well, and by posing serious questions about its main themes, and at this point Kiznaiver approaches the realm of good anime. It is unfortunate that the writing staff, for whatever reason, ruin their own show in the last third of the penultimate episode and in the very last one. The soundtrack—it must be said—is rather mediocre. The art and the animation, on the other hand, are gorgeous and perfectly executed, at least in my opinion. The designs of the characters are, without exception, very memorable.

I would thus rate it as an average show.

Tomorrow I will post a review of Joke Game, which I haven’t finished watching yet. And you guys can expect a review of Berserk soon (I feel like watching it since a few friends have recommended it to me, and in order to watch the second season coming out now).

OFG

Anime Review: Kiznaiver Episode 11

Well, ladies and gentlemen, brothers and sisters, comrades and friends, fellow primates, and other mammals—I believe that covers pretty much everybody—I present to you today my first impressions of Kiznaiver Episode 11.

If I had to summarize my feelings towards this episode in one sentence, I would say that I was sorely disappointed. The previous three episodes had worked hard to elevate Kiznaiver above the ranks of the merely fine and average anime that seem to dominate this season and are drowning it in a sea of mediocrity. This latest episode put its right back along with the rest of the shows of this season, the previous season, and the previous years­—if we are going to be honest, 90% of everything is crap anyway.

(Trust me, it’s science).

The first two thirds of the show is good enough and continues to build on the character development and plot development of the previous episodes. Katsuhira, for example, realizes with the help of Nico, Hisomu, and his interactions with his former friends who are now catatonic that in a subconscious way he wanted to feel pain because that would mean that he would be capable of feeling other emotions as well. This understanding allows him to comprehend why Chidori made such a big deal about having to defend himself from bullies: just as he felt an aversion to the empty husks to which his friends were reduced, Chidori wanted to ensure that Katsuhira was not and not would not be something akin to a doll.

Meanwhile, Chidori realizes how selfish she has been so far, both in relation to Katsuhira and in relation to Tenga, and that she has been trying to impose her own feelings on others as well as placing more importance on them than on the emotions of those around her. Noriko, for her part, expresses in both cryptic and candid terms—she is obscure with Katsuhira and straightforward with Yamada—that what she desired was not merely to relieve her own pain and regain her connection with Katsuhira. What she wanted was to restablish the relationships between herself, Katsuhira, their former friends, and the larger society around them, beginning with their school classmates but also including the other citizens of their town. I would also like to add that it seems that I was somewhat right in my prediction that through awakening feelings of pain in Katsuhira the lost survivors of the first Kiznaiver experiment would begin to regain their sensations and Noriko would begin the path to recovery from the failure of that first attempt.

It is at this point that the episode begins to decline. The members of the Kizna experiment that we were witness to—Kacchon, Nico, Hisomu, Honoka, and the rest—continue to have a connection, but this is not because of any influence of the Kiznaiver experiment, oh no, it’s simply because they have now developed strong emotional bonds independent of the experiment. That means that when Katsuhira feels pain they share in that pain because they have all become friends.

Now, perhaps I am a cold and emotionless person, but this strikes me as pure BS—and by that, I don’t mean Black Sabbath. I’m sorry, but when my friends or family members feel pain, physical or emotional, I am unable to feel anything close to what they feel, and I think that is the general experience, but somehow that is not the case with the Kiznaivers. No, this is probably the most cliché and sappy and ultimately stupid possible development of the story that the writers could have come up with, and one that raises far too many questions for them to answer in the following episode in a coherent manner. I will cite one example. If the Kiznaiver experiment is superfluous to establishing connections between people, as the ending of the episode implies, then what was the point of putting Katsuhira and the others through all that turmoil?

But at this point it seems that the writers don’t actually care about the story, or at least that they don’t know how to end it. All the previous seriousness has simply been thrown out of the window and during the last few minutes, we are treated to a wildly optimistic parody of the end of Neon Genesis Evangelion.

I now await the next episode and the end of Kiznaiver not with enthusiasm but with the resignation of someone who has committed himself to seeing through a tedious task to the end.

Hope all of you had a great weekend, remember to like, share, and subscribe. I will put up another review of an old show later.

OFG

Anime Review: Kiznaiver Episode 10

First of all, I apologize, once again, for the delay between posts. My Internet connection keeps failing me at the worst of times—I have barely been able to watch anything this week. Now, to the topic of this post.

This week’s episode of Kiznaiver begins by showing the aftermath of the events shown in last week’s episode. The group has essentially disbanded, with the members preferring to keep to themselves for the rest of the summer holidays waiting for the Kizna system to disappear. However, the Kizna project did not fail entirely.

Interestingly enough, Hisomu continues to visit Katsuhira at his apartment and taking food for both of them, showing the beginning of a more genuine friendship. Hisomu also reveals that after the intense emotional, and physical, pain he felt in that last trial, he no longer finds any pleasure in regular pain. This carries on even after the end of the holidays when the “Kiznaivers” return to school and find out that they are no longer connected by pain or any other emotion. Nico soon approaches them expressing the desire to remain being friends with both of them at least because in spite of the pain she enjoyed the time she spent with her fellow Kiznaivers.

In the meantime, Katsuhira’s feelings towards Noriko have continued to grow, and he looks for her at school but soon realizes that she is not there. With the help of a signal from his connection to Sonozaki, and the memories he has regained from his time in the previous Kiznaiver experiment, he is able to find her whereabouts when Noriko is overwhelmed by stress and emotional pain.

Now, here comes the truly interesting part. Upon reaching the Kizna Committee’s headquarters, Katsuhira—along with Hisomu and Nico who accompanied him—meets Urushibara who informs them of the conditions and results of the first Kiznaiver experiment. That it failed should come as no surprise to anyone who has been following the show, we already knew that. What we didn’t know was how disastrous it turned out to be. As it happens, some of the initial conditions were different.

The main difference is that there were nineteen members in the first experiment because the people in charge wanted to make sure these small children would not be put through too much pressure. It went horribly wrong. Some of the children distributed the pain they felt to the other Kiznaivers but they were unable to feel any pain themselves. One of the children, however, received every sensation from the other Kiznaivers, causing her unbearable pain. That child was, you guessed it, our beloved Noriko who, by feeling the pain of nineteen people, is almost the opposite of Katsuhira who feels no pain.

BTW, it’s confirmed that Katsuhira and Noriko loved each other when they were children, which is kind of sweet. I would also like to stress the significance that Katsuhira’s flashback to Noriko’s childish and open confession is the only memory we have seen so far that is not colorless.

Now, to counteract the effects of the connection she feels with the other members she needs to be injected regularly with something that dulls her sensations because, otherwise, she would die. Since the connection was never severed, that means that she continued to feel those sensations which means that, for example, every time Katsuhira was beaten by bullies she felt his pain. But that’s not all, it gets worse.

Most of the children of that first experiment begun to lose the ability to feel anything, Katsuhira was among the lucky ones in that he retained—at the very least—some sensations; others, the ones that Katsuhira and Noriko named in the previous episode, were reduced to a catatonic state.

Bleak as things may appear to be, there does seem to be the tiniest hints of hope. Here is why.

Throughout the series, Katsuhira has experienced flashbacks of Noriko telling him that he will one day regain his feelings. We also know, from what we learned this episode, that Katsuhira’s lack of emotion and reduced sensitivity have something to do with the failure of the Kiznaiver experiment. Nevertheless, due to his participation in this smaller version of the Kiznaiver experiment and his reencounter with Noriko, Katsuhira has begun to regain what he lost, but in reverse order. He has begun by feeling emotional pain first, rather than physical pain. This, it seems to me, might indicate how Sonozaki’s own condition of heightened sensitivity and emotional stress, arising from the ruinous first Kiznaiver experiment, might be reversed or—at least—mitigated.

My guess is that Katsuhira, with the help of Hisomu and Nico, will attempt to find the other survivors of the first experiment and try to awaken, and repair, their dormant connection in an attempt to save Noriko. If that is the route the writers are going to take then we will probably get another season—if that happens, you heard it here first.

Of course, this could all end with a soul-crushing finale so don’t blame me if I am wrong in the end.

The best part of this episode is what seems to be the utter condemnation and firm repudiation, on the part of the writers, of the Utopian and dangerous ideals behind the Kiznaiver experiment who, like all idealists, are so obsessed with their ideal of a peaceful world that they don’t care who they harm in the process. This is a healthy change from the norm in a popular and academic culture which often emphasizes “unity” and “peace” and “consensus” as the most desirable states, and which despises disagreement and conflict and division.

As always, I hoped you liked my review. Don’t forget to like and share. If you haven’t subscribed yet, here is your chance.

 

OFG

Anime Review: Kiznaiver

One of the few anime shows that I have followed this spring season is Kiznaiver. Generally, I prefer to watch the shows of one season a season or two later, if not a year later, when the hype has died down or disappeared—although that almost never happens—that way I tend not to get disappointed by what I watch; it is not a failsafe method, however, so don’t quote me on this. I started watching Kiznaiver out of interest really; I liked the drawing style so I decided to watch it.

As always, a quick summary should come first. In Kiznaiver the Japanese government, some corporations, and the scientific community have decided to design an experiment with the objective of the bringing people together so that they may find a way to implement world peace. The mechanism of the experiment is to bind people together through their wounds forcing them to share their pain. The show focuses on the seven High School students they forced into the experiment who become the “Kiznaivers”.

(Top, from left to right: Hisomu Yoshiharu, Sonozaki Noriko, Takashiro Chidori, Yuta Tsuguhito. Bottom, from right to left: Maki Honoka, Agata Katsuhira, Niiyama Niko, Tenga Hajime).

It is not explained how, exactly, the seven students are connected to each other through their wounds, but we do not really need to know that; all we need to know is that when one of them gets hurt the others feel it too which, apparently, also has the effect of diminishing the pain as it is distributed around the Kiznaivers. A fellow student, Sonozaki Noriko, who seems to be ataraxic, manages the group and occasionally places them in situations where cooperation is necessary.

This makes for some interesting interactions between the characters specially given how the main character, Agata Katsuhira, cannot feel pain and one of the other Kiznaivers, Hisomu Yoshinaru, is someone who enjoys feeling pain and actively seeks it (in the latest episode, the eighth, he is shown to dislike pleasurable feelings).

So far, Kiznaiver has meandered between being an average show and a fine one, and has never sunk­—thankfully—to the level of a bad show. The interactions between the characters and the comedic elements have saved it from that fate; even if it is burdened by a few events that stretch the suspension of disbelief on the part of the audience and a few absurdities. It also helps that as the story advances it moves on from the repetitive idea of sharing pain as Noriko and her aides disclose that pain is simply the most basic emotion they can share and only the first stage of the experiment. As time goes on the team-members begin to share other feelings, like joy or sadness or hopefulness.

In this week’s episode, the show takes a step towards becoming a good show.  With the initial arc of discovering the pasts and fears of the Kiznaivers almost closed and settled, the story finally begins to move forward as the story begins to focus on stronger romantic connections between the characters. However, the prospect for the future looks a bit messy. What we have among the Kiznaivers is not a love triangle in with two happy couples on the sidelines, but a love pentagon that involves Noriko, who is not an actual member of the team. It turns out that Katsuhira has developed romantic feelings for her.

The episode reveals something that many viewers of the show have suspected for a while now and that the show has hinted at in previous episodes: this batch of Kiznaivers are not the first. It turns out that they initially tried testing the Kiznaiver system on adults and failed miserably; they then tested it on animals and found out that linking pain first got better results. Afterwards they found out that they needed to link people before their personalities were fully formed—which explains why they selected High School students who are subjected to intense changes in their personalities­. And, this is the big reveal, they initially tested the latest version of the Kiznaiver system on the children of the scientists working on it, and both Katsuhira and Noriko were members of that failed experiment.

The climax of the episode arrives at the end when Katsuhira has a flashback that reminds him of his childhood relationship with Noriko and runs to find her, in the middle of a storm caused by a Typhoon, just as she arrives at the building where the Kiznaivers are located. Just as she is about to be crushed by a falling statue Katsuhira arrives and saves her, with this great rock track on the background—it was really exciting—and the episode ends with Noriko making a rather cryptic confession of her own feelings for Katsuhira. It is not explained how he was able to find her; my theory is that the awakened memories also had the effect of awaking an emotional connection he shared with Noriko from the first experiment but which had gone dormant once the experiment failed.

(Has the ship sailed? I sure hope so).

The one flaw of the episode was that the romantic feelings of one of the members of the love pentagon, Nico, for another member of that mess, Tenga, seemed to have come out of left field, at least for me. I certainly feel that there was nothing to hint that Nico might have a crush on Tenga in previous episodes.

So, we have a lot of things to look forward to in the next few episodes, and I suspect that the series might not end this season and will get a second one.

Hoped you liked my review, don’t forget to like and subscribe.

OFG