Tomino, Your Soul May Be Held Down by Gravity

The thought didn't hit me until episode 9. Up until then, I'd thought of Gundam: Reconguista in G to be just another bad anime. The beginning was different enough from most other Gundam to interest me in the plot, before I discovered the plot was a tangled mess of aborted ideas. I continued watching only through obligation, since I rarely drop shows after starting them. Eventually episode 9 staggers through its final part, and I'm listening in irritation to the characters talk about Gondwan, the Rose of Hermes Blueprints, SU-Cordism, and the Nick Space. Have these things been mentioned before, or are we being informed of them for the first time? Will Tomino choose to focus on any of these at any point, or will they just be thrown into conversations to make the show sound political? Then, like a key turning in a lock, it finally clicked for me:

Gundam: Reconguista in G is one very special dub away from being Garzey's Wing.

I mean, of course there would be similarities between the two since Yoshiyuki Tomino directed both, and his many shortcomings have been brought up by plenty of reviewers in the past. But Garzey's Wing was such an infamous turd that Tomino himself reportedly doesn't want to talk about it. And this particular Gundam incarnation comes not only right on the heels of the wildly successful Gundam Unicorn, but is set in the same timeline, presumably retconning other works like Gundam F91 and Victory Gundam (no great loss, according to many). One would think the man would avoid tainting his flagship franchise with literally all the same mistakes again, but I'll be damned if I can watch each new episode without hearing a ghostly voice instructing me in the art of gun-making. Let's take a few minutes to review this brand new trainwreck, shall we?

Now, I didn't start this show with a checklist of what MUST be included for it to TRULY be considered a REAL GUNDAM SHOW; honestly, fans that hardcore tend to irritate me. So when plot elements like the space elevator and strange religion centered around said elevator were introduced right alongside military cheerleaders, I was curious about how these would be developed instead of raging about their inclusion. If the creators wanted to go lighthearted with the material, that was their right. No, my misgivings first took root a bit later as I realized that none of these things mattered. And that almost everything else introduced in the series would share the same fate.

Take antagonist Captain Mask, the Char Aznable look-alike no doubt included to appease old-school Gundam fans. He shares none of the moral complexity that made his predecessor interesting to watch. Though apparently he fights to honor his race which currently faces prejudice, we never really see much evidence of this prejudice, never mind the effect his actions have to dispel this informed hatred. The character himself acts more like an attack dog than a human being, charging his enemies without a thought for who they are or why either of them are fighting, only certain that this time he'll shoot those guys down right up until he needs to retreat in disgrace yet again. Again, this isn't me hating one series because it isn't another; this is just an example of what you expect to be important, of what is presented as important, but isn't. Hey, the protagonist's mother is one of the planet's most influential politicians! That'll sure influence events, right? No? How about the Earth military's internal conflict between those pushing for a more aggressive, borderline dictatorship and those that oppose them? No? Well, shit, what are we supposed to care about?

Let me first say that it sure as hell isn't the characters. They suffer from exactly the same bizarrely disjointed feeling, sometimes even appearing to suffer from mental disorders. Exposed to the most massive loads of bullshit the plot can offer, hardly an eye is batted. At other times, a character will go from laughing in joy to crying in mental anguish over the span of seconds, often at the prompting of dialogue that would leave any normal person cocking their head in confusion instead. The show becomes a sort of game, one where you watch each scene and try to figure out what Tomino wanted you to feel in it, rather than grasping the intention instinctively as you could with any halfway-competent piece of art. The one shining star of brightness in the entire cast is Raraiya Monday. She takes the normally boring archetype of mysterious eccentric girl to such extremes that she can more accurately be described as pants-on-head retarded. Her antics are a completely stupid yet enjoyable reprieve from . . . everything else, at least until her temporary space-induced mental disorder cures itself one episode, and she becomes just like everyone else. The other characters take this development in stride, of course.

No relief is found in the fight sequences, despite being technically well-animated. There's enough shouting to make anyone's ears go numb, be it long-winded exposition or your standard mecha staples of “I'll show you!” and “Take this!”. Enough factions are introduced that half the time you're not sure why any given characters are fighting. The other half the reasons are completely inane. For example, on different occasions, at least two different girls will attack someone simply because they want Captain Mask to like them. They are far from the only ones to act so stupidly; particularly eye-rolling is one female captain who exists solely to love a certain man who soon dies in battle. Rather than relieve her from duty for her obvious insanity following this, the crew keeps her in charge and they all get blown up shortly after. Dear God, this show kinda paints most women as pretty irrational things, doesn't it?

 Honestly, there's only so much I can write about what a soul-sucking chore this show is and still remain coherent. In direct mockery of its bright colors and rounded, friendly designs, Gundam: Reconguista in G feels like the proverbial abyss that gazes back into me. I'd recommended this to no one, not even those who, like me, consider Garzey's Wing so bad it's good. First, there's no terribly-performed English dub of this (yet) to mock; all the terrible dialogue you'll have to read for yourself. Second, it craps on a franchise that is loved by many and at least respected by most. Finally, whereas Garzey's Wing drags even at three episodes, this is twenty-six episodes of hell. Do yourselves a solid and stay far, far away, because honestly this is a show that can't even be laughed at. Only pitied, and feared.

War! What is it Good For?

Absolutely nothing, as you'll soon find out.

A while back I wrote about Lupin III: Green vs. Red, describing it as an interesting failure. Not particularly awful, especially compared to some TV specials (looking at you, Another Page), and even somewhat admirable for its lofty ambitions. It just fails to reach those ambitions. To its credit, it knew how to have a little fun along the way, which kept things from getting too pretentious. The same cannot be said of the 1982 film Future War 198X.

The concept is rock-solid. Based actual statistics and scientific projections, Future War 198X examines the circumstances leading up to nuclear war. Fictional characters are used, from common people right up to the bigwig politicians, but all named countries and locations are real. Everyone is drawn as realistically as possible, and despite a good bit of talking, we hear only the narrator's voice as he describes each event. Every aspect screams documentary, alternate future, serious business you guys.

With the unconventional format, though, comes a flaw inherent to most documentaries: it can be boring. There's just something about an all-knowing narrator explaining all the action, the sequence of cause and effect, and how the viewer should be feeling that took me out of the human drama despite the English narration itself being mostly well-written and performed. It doesn't let us form our own conclusions, and it hurts to be led around by the nose for two hours.

While we're on the subject of action, let's just say there's something to be desired in that department, too. The genuinely good battle sequences are few and spaced far between scenes of meetings and political maneuvering, all gratingly dialogue-free. The animation isn't cheap, per se; character designs are incredibly detailed, and a lot of different locations are used. It just limits its impressive moments far too much to actually impress. Oh, and the music choices during some of those action scenes? Pure cheese, played totally straight.

And speaking of cheese (man, I'm just on a segue roll, aren't I?), this brings us to the film's biggest problem: it's still dumb. Nuclear war, though not a light issue today, would have been such a deadly serious issue back in 1982 that the merest whiff of cheese would spell this movie's death. Yet all the more optimistic moments reek of it. The peace movement that organizes towards the end seems out of place given the film's overall grim tone. The narrator himself is involved in the story in a subplot that would make Michael Bay proud. It involves a love triangle and a civilian scientist who defies his orders to become mankind's only hope by the end. The narrator's own insistence that everyone involved was at heart a good person is completely trashed when a single, radical Soviet official clearly proves himself an irredeemable villain.

Bottom line: Future War 198X hasn't aged well. Its “what if” scenario is just too hard to take seriously so long after the Cold War's end, especially since the documentary bits are sabotaged by parts which belong in a lame Hollywood blockbuster. Maybe these parts were a comfort blanket to people of the time, who didn't want to feel completely powerless before the paranoid power of world governments, but we're too gleefully obsessed with deconstruction to do anything but laugh at such scenes today. In the end, that's the only way I can recommend this movie; more of an amusingly flawed snapshot into a different era's most intense fears and hopes than either the bad action flick it could have been or the serious, inspirational work of art it wanted to be. Oh well.

What are some anime that you'd call interesting failures? What are some things you've seen that wanted to be taken seriously, and what killed it for them? Sound off in the comments!

Six Feet Plunder

I've been hearing some buzz around the Internet about the latest Lupin III movie, The Gravestone of Jigen Daisuke, being a stinker. Considering the recent, sorely-needed changes to the franchise brought about by The Woman Called Fujiko Mine, this was depressing news. I resolved to check out the flick myself via torrent, with the usual justification that I'd buy the eventual hard copy if I enjoyed it. The result was a mixed bag of an experience; some complaints were definitely justified, but I generally had a good time. And the bag had a certain surprise at the bottom...

To get the big complaints out of the way first, this didn't feel like a movie. It was way too short for a cinematic feel, and frankly was too light on the action as well. Given that this was directed by none other than Takeshi Koike of Redline, the OVA-style scope is downright insulting when you consider what he could have filled even 30 extra, well-funded minutes with. And even though the limited runtime allows for few scenes that aren't plot-related exposition (the climax certainly leans toward this), unwanted fat still hangs from a few places. The villain's talent for making mechanical monstrosities has no payoff, for instance, and a scene with Fujiko in peril feels both out of place and too damn long.

The good stuff may be a modest hill facing down these mountainous flaws, but I still think they're worth defending. For instance, I like Lupin's revamped look in general, and here it gives extra style to the sparse action. Sure, it leans heavily towards the Redline look, and Jael Okuzaki looks suspiciously like Gori Rider, but is that really a bad thing? Okuzaki, for his part, was a good villain, credible as a threat and memorable for his appearance and little quirks. Jigen gets to share a little of the spotlight for once, which doesn't happen often enough considering his crucial support role and downplayed romanticism, and no inspector or swordsman was crammed in where he wasn't needed. Finally, I think the movie captured the essence of Lupin and company as just thieves instead of the obligatory thieves with hearts of gold. Despite all its massive flaws, a lot of factors made it at least more memorable than the yearly Castle of Cagliostro wannabes; do we really want to see the gang help out random nobodies we'll never see again again?

And then. Right when you think the movie is over. That scene happens. Here come the spoilers.

We see that the entire incident has been observed by a well-dressed, sickly green little guy known to fans simply as Mamo. There has not, to my knowledge, been such a blatant sequel hook in the episodic Lupin franchise's history, and it forces me to re-examine my earlier criticisms.

Namely, my critique of the plot elements without a clear point is rendered moot because their point can easily be shown in the future. That strange mechanical doll that assaulted Fujiko, which looked to me like a clockwork Titan, may eventually be part of a neat action scene instead of an uncomfortable one. Really, Okuzaki's mechanical expertise could become a threat later in a way it just wasn't here. Who can't see that guy returning as a mini-boss with a robotic arm?

Also, I have to commend the choice to tease this villain over any other. The Mystery of Mamo was a controversial film, but also an unforgettable one. It went way off the rails into sci-fi territory, an area Koike obviously excels in, but this approach was more or less forgotten after Miyazaki wowed everyone with his signature, safer take on Lupin. I look forward to seeing something batshit crazy and unexpected.

To sum things up, The Gravestone of Jigen Daisuke is not exactly a strong film when taken alone, but at least refreshingly different. Its biggest crime is leaving us wanting more, and hopefully we will indeed be getting more and better. I'm staying optimistic on this one. But what are your thoughts on the direction Lupin may be taking? How about on sequel hooks in general; are they a welcome asset to a franchise, or do they diminish its individual films (ooh, here comes a Vietnam flashback to Iron Man 2)? Put your thoughts in the comments!

So Bad, Yet So Good

As Anime Central approaches, the convention I've been gearing up for all year, my mind's been turning to what I'll be keeping an eye out for in the dealer's room. But after debating which Lupin movies are worth my money and idly wondering if I'll be lucky enough to find Crusher Joe there, I realized something: I don't own enough bad anime.

I hate myself a little for feeling this, of course. What a bastard, who still finds something to complain about after getting so much good entertainment! I just won't be satisfied until I own everything, will I?

But really, the bad stuff has made almost as much an impression on me as anything with actual quality to it. As far as the fandom is concerned, it could be argued that crap anime did more for the medium than terrific anime, at least in terms of public exposure. Lots of people may have started watching their Chinese cartoons after hearing Cowboy Bebop was great, but I'd bet money that just as many started after seeing Urotsukidoji. And on that note, I'd like to shed light on three anime that left a big, warm shitstain on my heart that I wouldn't ever want to wipe off.

First comes a title that was by no means a pleasant experience for me during my first viewing, but left an undeniable mark on me. And by mark I mean scar. I'm talking, of course, about Apocalypse Zero.

This 2-episode OVA takes your basic post-apocalyptic world and populates it with the truly bizarre. Cockroaches the size of hubcaps scuttle around while a high school girl accessorizes her hair with the biggest, dumbest Minnie Mouse bow you've ever seen. Yes, they still have high school in the hellish ruins of civilization, even though fatal monster attacks seem to be a regular occurrence. And these monsters. . . I won't describe and spoil the shock for you, but it's clear that someone really plumbed the depths of their id to come up with these abominations.

Apocalypse Zero occupies this bizarre middle ground where it's too gleefully self-aware to come across as mean-spirited, but still so goddamn sick that it'll change your perspective on what the word sick means. Anyone who doesn't run away in horror after twelve minutes will inevitably become glued to the screen for the remainder, and emerge at the end to find themselves changed.

Though I can't say I exactly like watching this OVA, it commands my eternal respect. Though this should really be recommended to no one, I'd advise anyone who's become bored with anime to give it a watch. You know, those people who have been around the block enough times that they find it hard to get really invested in what's happening onscreen, be it drama, action, or just plain gore. If you watch Apocalypse Zero without feeling anything, be it surprise, shock, or disgust, congratulations! You are officially a robot, and will never feel anything again.

Next comes a work by one of anime's greatest stars turned into one of anime's greatest supernovas. I speak of Mobile Suit Gundam creator Yoshiyuki Tomino's “masterpiece” Garzey's Wing.

The plot is about as simple as it gets: average teenager Chris is suddenly transported to a medieval fantasy world, where he must use the mysterious power of Garzey's Wing to lead an enslaved people against their oppressors. That part's easy enough to understand, but as they say, the devil's in the details. Good luck figuring out what the good guys and bad guys are talking about or trying to accomplish at any given moment.

To put it simply, Tomino's characters don't act like humans. Their basic emotions of joy, anger, and fear are expressed through means that can only be described as . . . unconventional. Maybe loneliness and desperation will be shown by talking about convenience stores. Maybe a character will make a big, stupid, plot-affecting emotional decision out of nowhere, and you'll have to go back to confirm that, no, there was never even a hint prior that they felt that way. You watch each scene of dialogue, not feeling emotion naturally, but consciously trying to pinpoint what emotion Tomino is trying to bring out of you. Plot is likewise confused, because things like a logical progression from Point A to Point B are for wimps. Clearly the right way to go is to introduce a ludicrously high number of plot threads for a 90-minute production, then leave your audience guessing how many will be dropped without a proper payoff (spoiler: most of them, including the main quest).

Garzey's Wing comes tantalizingly close to being the best bad anime ever; it's just so mind-boggling such a thing could be made by human, professional hands. The problem is it all becomes too much. The OVA's issues hit you hard in the beginning, but they don't really change throughout its runtime. They don't even become worse. After about 30 or 45 minutes the novelty of it all wears off, and you find four body and mind going numb as Garzey's Wing continues its unrelenting assault on your notions of good storytelling. It is a rare treat, to be sure, but a little hard to recommend repeated viewings of, though that English dub admittedly triples the fun.

Though both strong contenders for best bad anime ever, neither previous entries are quite enjoyable enough to be truly good in their badness. That's why my vote goes to Angel Cop. 

This 6-episode OVA followed on Akira's heels, and it's easy to tell when a plot trying to follow international politics and espionage gets hijacked by psychics before the first episode closes. They then drive the plot over a cliff several episodes later into a bottomless pit of superpowered action scenes. It one-ups Garzey's Wing by constantly changing up exactly how it's bad, thwarting your expectations and always leaving you wondering how it'll insult you next.

The characters are another high point. Main “heroine” Angel starts off as a supercop who will kill anyone who gets in her way in the name of justice. By the end, she grows to understand that, just maybe, it isn't always justice she's upholding. She'll still kill you, though. Her special security coworkers are also one-dimensionally badass in a more disposable sort of way, and brought to foul-mouthed life by possibly the greatest, most quotable English dub in history. Blood and violence are always just a few minutes away, and supported by animation that is never worse than competent.

I love how over-the-top excessive this show can get while desperately clinging to its original political thriller plot for credibility's sake. I love the new technologies and psychic powers people keep pulling out of their asses. I love the concentrated stupid that keeps jumping out of their face-holes. Angel Cop may be bad in that it fails hard at being the serious action/drama it aspires to, but it is always, always entertaining.

Now, what are your experiences with bad anime? What transcends badness to become something beautiful? Give me specific examples! I'll love you forever if you make me aware of another glorious piece of crap!

Bear Necessities

I remember a few years back when Mawaru Penguindrum aired, I was constantly surprised at just how few people cared. Naturally I expected Ikuhara's next show, Yuri Kuma Arashi, to get a similar cold shoulder. So imagine my elation at finding its first episode one of the most talked-about new titles of this new season! And then my disappointment at finding it one of the director's weakest shows.

Ikuhara, of course, is most famous for directing Revolutionary Girl Utena, the shoujo masterpiece that never seemed to get the attention its peers at the time enjoyed. His other major directing credits include the aforementioned Penguindrum and some of Sailor Moon's middle seasons. Though few, his works leave an impression because of Ikuhara's penchant for surreal imagery. The surrealism is cranked up to eleven for his latest work, but a half dozen episodes in I'm watching more out of obligation than lasting enjoyment because he's neglected other crucial storytelling elements.

First, the setting. Although all the crucial elements are outlined up front, such as why bears are intelligent and the necessity of the Wall of Severance, there are still too many questions. What is the Wall, exactly? Why is everyone a girl? What is the Severance Court, the significance of one's Yuri being approved, and the meaning of the subtext-heavy “eating” that follows? Questions like these are par for the course when viewing any of this man's works, but I think this is the first time he doesn't give us a lifeline to grab. Penguindrum, for instance, doesn't throw the crazy imagery at us until episode 1's very end, instead taking pains to set up a world (seemingly) exactly like ours and the struggles of three siblings in it. We have solid ground beneath our feet to stand on, and have only to figure out what the deal is with this Penguindrum and possessed hat. Likewise, Utena gave us a simple yet likable heroine in a typical, if gaudy, school. Although an incredibly surreal show as a whole, we don't learn of the weird shit going on in the shadows until we're already invested in the characters' issues. Yuri Kuma Arashi just leaves us wondering how anything at all works.

Which brings us to the next major failing, the characters. I'll just say it: Claire is not interesting in the slightest. Though maybe she isn't the intended protagonist if the opening credits are to believed, Claire is certainly the focus thus far, and damn does she drag things down. Her only apparent motivation is to find true love, which even she knows is probably unattainable, but she never really tries to attain it. Claire is the definition of a reactive character, the opposite of the proactive go-getter Utena, and as such difficult to root for. She mopes and moans about being friendless and loveless yet always returns to her ridiculously nice and comfortable house. Her herd-like classmates meanwhile, despite their cruelty towards Claire, are unsuccessfully doing everything they can to avoid getting picked off like flies. Who exactly has the more pressing need here?

Third, and this is more minor a quibble, there are way too many flashbacks. Penguindrum had its fair share of these too, but I like to think they were fewer, focused on more important events, and didn't interrupt the narrative's flow. Here, when a character looks pensive or nostalgic, Ikuhara doesn't let the scene play out and leave their thoughts to our imaginations. We will see a flashback, even if it's one we've already seen multiple times, or of events that happened only an episode ago. Given how hard it is to figure out this world's rules, the irregular flow of time is not helping things.

With all that said, I'm still watching to the end. I'm prepared to endure any amount of moping until the final episode, when the director finally reveals his inevitably dark thoughts on love. This still feels different from anything else airing right now, and such anomalies should always be treasured. I'm not saying there's no chance to turn things around before the climax, and certainly not that anyone should stop watching. But if you're considering picking up this show to witness for the first time one of anime's most unique directors ever, you might want to look at his previous works first. Ikuhara's strengths are definitely more prominent elsewhere.

Any thoughts on this show or Ikuhara's stuff in general? I'd love to hear them, so go ahead and post them!

The Knight's Darkest Before the Dawn

February hit my area with a vengeance. Just snow every day, everywhere you look. Luckily I'd heard the forecast, and set aside a series to watch just in case I got frozen in my home for days on end. It's been on the edge of my radar for awhile now, and the recent favorable write-up in Otaku USA pushed me to finally give it a shot. The series' name is Knights of Sidonia, and you should all watch it. Like right now.

Though it aired way back in early 2014, I never gave it much thought because of the plot description: all humanity lives on a single spaceship, is being attacked by mysterious monsters, and one boy must pilot a robot to save everyone. Pass! It wasn't until much later that I learned the original manga author was Tsutomu Nihei. Then I started paying more attention.

I'd read his cyberpunk classic Blame! some time before, and enjoyed it quite a bit. Though the plot's incoherence and characters' relative lack of emotion still turns me off a little, these flaws contributed to the incredibly rich, bleak atmosphere. Forget those weaksauce “sci-fi” shows that thrown in a few laser guns and lightsabers, then called it a day; Nihei takes scientific concepts to their logical extremes, and isn't afraid to put his audience in a totally alien setting (read: no high schools). I watched hoping for something like this once again, and I wasn't disappointed.

We get to see a population that's evolved beyond needing three meals a day, even beyond having just two main genders. We get to see a city-ship that actually has to take propulsion into account, that literally cannot pick up fighters left behind in space because it's too big to do a 180. We get to see what happens to that ship's civilians when it's forced to make a hard turn. And we aren't even subjected to droning technobabble explaining what is going on every single second; a few sentences at most gives us a general idea, then the scene plays out naturally to show us the consequences. What a concept!

Given the extraordinary attention to setting, one would expect the characters and their emotions to be sacrificed. That isn't the case here, although they certainly aren't the series' selling point. The characters resemble the comfortable stereotypes we've seen before, especially in mecha anime: the aloof rival, the shy love interest(s), the mysterious commander, etc. The protagonist is a likable enough fish out of water, desperately trying to understand and protect this strange world, and a few others reveal interesting depths as well. The high-strung drama of combat is handled much better than the occasionally forced romantic ones, but I'd be lying if I said there weren't some touching parts in there.

Animation is what you'd expect for a mostly CG show. That is, mecha action and environment are both excellent in a way traditional methods would struggle to imitate these days, at least on a TV budget. Facial expressions suffer greatly as a result, though, especially when anyone has to cry or blush. This will probably be a turn-off for some, but it didn't bother me much, in the end. Nihei's characters have never been particularly emotive from what I've seen, so this is both a step up from Blame! and an accurate depiction of his style, to my eyes.

I really, really wish I had checked this out sooner, because it feels different from almost everything else out there. These twelve episodes are well worth your time, especially since there's a new season coming soon. Watch it now and let me know what you think! Already seen it? Tell me about your experience in the comments!

I See Dem Rollin', I Hatin'

One of the shows I'm currently watching is The Rolling Girls, the new production from Wit Studio by director Kotomi Deai (season 2 of Silver Spoon). Though the episodes themselves are far from painful to watch, the series as a whole leaves something to be desired even after three episodes. And after weeks of thinking way too much about a cartoon (as usual), I think I've pinpointed what it is.

If you read the Anime News Network season previews, you'll remember this show being compared to FLCL, Kill la Kill, and (most appropriately, I think) Kyousogiga. That's why I decided to watch Rolling Girls, even though the reviewers cautioned it was trying too hard to imitate these shows. I optimistically dismissed these criticisms, because fantasy action is still fantasy action, right? Who cares what influenced what how much as long as we get to see some crazy animation? And for the record, the action scenes are quite fun to watch with vibrant colors and an energy that grabs you right off the bat. But I couldn't help thinking of its previously-mentioned brethren, and how hollow this was starting to feel in comparison.

Was it the world-building? Kill la Kill was beyond skilled in how it gave you everything you needed to know in the first five minutes: a fascist school rules over its students with an iron fist and super-powered uniforms, and a transfer student is going to rock the system, presumably in the most over-the-top way possible. Rolling Girls by comparison is much less concerned with why the crazy fights are exploding onscreen, and at first I felt an ill-defined world was hampering my enjoyment. But really, once we figure out the action stems from a gang war between different regions under different superheroes (Bests), this explanation alone doesn't hold up; “fantasy world gang war” is all the setting you need. Kyousogiga's magical wonderland where anything could happen was a much vaguer setup by comparison, and don't get me started on Yuri Kuma Arashi's vagueness. Never change, Ikuhara.

Did the characters just suck? Closer, but not quite. Of the many introduced thus far, few are outright irritating (by my standards). I'm actually rooting for some of the Rest to take down the Best, who are mostly assholes that don't deserve their powers. It does carry the distinct stench of being gimmicky, which is a word I hate to use. Every animated character had their designers thinking, “how can I make this creation appeal to the widest audience possible?”, after all. But seriously, count the cast members who aren't cute girls. Riding on that train of thought, I smacked right into the answer, the big problem plaguing countless “cute girl” anime: there are no stakes here.

The violence has no consequences. When Best clash, not only do they suffer no fatalities, but neither do innocent bystanders. Though one Rest shrieks, “I'd die if I fought a Best!”, they are regularly blown hundreds of feet into the air by shockwaves. A group of Rest is used as hostages on a roller coaster of death, and though all are eventually flung violently from it long before the threatened crash, they all survive. “Oh, we've gotten really good at falling from great heights!” Even if one Best theoretically defeats another and takes their territory, trading your current asshole leader for a different one isn't the most dire consequence ever.

Those who watched Kyousogiga are no doubt rushing to correct me by now. “But people in Kyousogiga literally couldn't die! And all collateral damage repaired itself by magic! How can you harp on one show when this other had the same problems?” Because Rolling Girls also has virtually no emotional stakes.

Though the world of Kyousogiga was notoriously consequence-free, its three rulers radiated a sense of loss, of longing in their appearances. Separated from their parents before truly ready for it, they're clearly come across as unsupervised children locked in the world's best toy store for eternity; inwardly unhappy and unable to resolve their own issues alone. The four “rolling girls”? The main character goes on her quest to help a childhood friend, which is frankly a cheap and overused motivation in my book. One girl wants to gather these mysterious stones because they “look pretty”. Nice. The other two are along for the ride.

In the words of Boromir, “If we fail, what then?” Well, Best will continue to be assholes, which they have every indication of being if the girls succeed. The gas mask girl's implied issues with her mother will go tearfully unresolved unless, you know, they decide to talk their problems out. Some shady guy appears to also be collecting those magic stones, but we know nothing about him; he'll probably end up being the last boss no matter what anyone does. Oh, wait, the girls will all have to return to their comfortable daily lives if they fail to gather all those weird stones! Now that's scary!

I wanted to like this show, partially because I've liked nothing made by Wit Studio that isn't Attack on Titan, but this just isn't doing it for me. I'll keep watching since this show may yet pleasantly surprise me, but that won't likely happen unless events get significantly weightier, which doesn't appear to be on Rolling Girls's agenda. Though a disappointment, we've all seen bigger ones.

What are your thoughts on The Rolling Girls? I'd love to hear your opinions, especially if you disagreed with me. Do you see other major flaws I didn't mention? Post 'em!