Aria: The Animation is a holiday - from sexual innuendo, from noise, from fighting and from bustle. As it meanders along, content to show the placid toil of the gondoliers in training - geishas of the canals in everything but name - each episode becomes less about individual triumphs and pacing and more about getting lost in the tranquillity the series has gushing from it. The series may not be to everyone's taste, it is as much a holiday from drama and plotting as everything else, but for those looking to escape into a pastel coloured reverie there really is no better series; especially so for fans of gentle voices, lilting music, oddly proportioned cats and occasional time travel.
charmingly naive and has an infectious enthusiasm that elevates her above the common ultra-virtuous stereotype
Mars, once barren and harsh is now Aqua, flush with water and tamed by technology it is a utopia away from Earth - now Manhome. In the canal-city of Neo-Venezia, gondolas are the best way to travel and the water-ways are run by three companies: the smallest Aria, the biggest Orange Planet, and the oldest Himeya. After traveling from Manhome, Akari becomes an apprentice in Aria Company under the tutelage of the beautiful Alicia - one of the three Water Faeries of the city. Akari may not be the best gondolier - Undine in the series jargon - however she is affable and enjoys life, able to find happiness in the smallest of things. Along with two friends, her time on Aqua is replete with adventures both emotional and personal.
It's easier to think of Strike Witches more as unfulfilling pornography than a more traditional, coherent series; all the hallmarks are present: copious nudity, low camera angles, paper-thin plot, a cast reduced to caricatures, fake lesbianism and innumerable fetishes. It makes it more enjoyable to watch with this in mind as no longer can it be held to the same standards as other series - were that to happen one would likely not make it past the first five minutes of hackneyed, tedious plotting and be reduced to apoplectic cursing within ten. Instead, this is a brainless, fluffy, occasionally uncomfortable but mildly entertaining series that, like porn, walks the line between guilty pleasure and stupefying incredulity.
it echoes a studio desperate for a widespread hit - and what better way than firing as much ammunition as possible with the hope that some of it will hit?
Yoshika is a witch in her native country of Japan (Fuso in the series parlance). Her powers make her a perfect candidate for the Strike Witches, a group of young girls who use magic-enhancing machinery to fight against the Neuroi - enigmatic alien aggressors who have razed most of mainland Europe. Initially adverse to the idea, Yoshika's quest to find her father inevitably leads her into the force which consists of girls of various ages from all over the world from the British Lynette - a sharpshooter in training, to the German Erica - a fantastically talented but slovenly combatant, to the ghostly and clairvoyant Sanya. Yoshika's battle against the Neuroi may have only just begun, but she may be the key to turning the tide against them for good.
Please note: the remainder of this post contains images of nudity, if you are offended by these or are otherwise unable to view these images within your municipality due to laws or moral obligations, please do not proceed.
The story goes that after Satoshi Kon's movie triumvirate - Perfect Blue, Millennium Actress, and Tokyo Godfathers - there were a surplus of ideas and the desire to break from being locked into a two and half year development cycle for movies. So with the aid of Madhouse studios, Paranoia Agent was born. Demonstrating a familiar mix of reality bending, mind melting storytelling and a flair for the symbolic and layered, the series is a stunning achievement shifting from detective thriller to black comedy to erudite social commentary with jaw dropping ease. Challenging and subversive, this is everything a Satoshi Kon fan could want: a playground where he runs free; as bleakly funny just as it is darkly incisive there are some minor hiccups along the way but it is a powerhouse of a series that rightly deserves but never demands attention.
at its best when entirely irreverent and poking fun at everything from suicide to animation production, house wives to prostitution
When the designer of the horrendously popular Maromi character is attacked in a parking lot, the two police detectives assigned to her case are rightly sceptical. Several points don't add up, the least of which being the identity of the supposed attacker: a youth wielding a crooked baseball and gold in-line skates; but when a second then third attack come in quick succession, the phenomenon of Lil' Slugger begins to spread. All of the victims seem to have been at their wit's end in one way or another: a teaching assistant with dissociative identity disorder, a high achieving school pupil, a less-than-honest police officer - but when a culprit is found, the case begins to veer off on bizarre paths. Nothing is as it seems with Lil' Slugger and as his notoriety increases so does the ferocity of his attacks. The question is: can anything stop him?
Just like the taijitu that features so heavily in the plot, Otogi Zoshi is split into two parts with elements of its twin interspersed throughout. The tonal and aesthetic difference between the two parts is arresting, the first favouring a poised and atmospheric wander through a viciously feudal Japan, the latter a collection of modern mysteries scattered around Tokyo and sharing many similarities with the latest two Shin Megami Tensei: Persona video games. This division of themes and story promotes perseverance: if the initial tale of blades and intrigue doesn't engage, perhaps the dark and foreboding march across many of Tokyo's landmarks will. Conversely it threatens to alienate an audience that fell in love with the first story or losing them before the second begins. By and large it succeeds in crafting a compelling story with characters that, crucially, work across the gulf of a thousand years, however even with the guiding hand of Production I.G the series isn't without its flaws.
switching between schoolgirl prep and urban pop with pleasing regularity
The Heian era city of Edo is infected by discontent: famine and lawlessness plague the streets while the outlying lands are run by thieves and malcontents. Even the Emperor isn't immune: struck down by a debilitating illness and without long to live, his closest aides, advised by the mystic Abe no Seimei, send word to retrieve the magical magatama stones in order to save the capital. With the eldest son of the Minamoto household, Raiko, bedridden it is up to his sister Hikaru to undertake this task. Disguised as her brother and joined by her faithful bodyguard Tsuna, and eventually the womanising Usui, the enigmatic Urabe and freakishly strong Kintaro, the group hunts out the magatama against foes both weird and devious. On their return however, all is not as it seems and the Emperor's aides have ulterior plans for the magatama, although it will be Seimei whose actions will have the most far reaching consequences, the ramifications echoing a thousand years into the future.
Boogiepop Phantom is a series which immediately makes one wonder whether their television is functioning correctly. Shortly after the melancholy opening it adds the speakers to that list. By the end of the first episode it adds the viewer's brain. It is a reverie of madness, murder, altered states and narrative intrigue: each episode teasing an explanation but rarely delivering in full, each appearance of the titular Boogiepop - or is it the Manticore? - promising a new thread to tie in with the myriad others. Existing in a microcosm of light novels, manga and a live-action movie as well as sharing idiosyncrasies and the brutally obtuse style of its spiritual predecessor, Serial Experiments Lain, the question the series' lineage poses is whether it can stand by itself or whether it relies too much on its forebears and source material to support itself.
some of the darkest aspects of humanity are explored with obsession, madness and memories playing a key role
A month before the opening of the series, a pillar of light erupts in a nameless cityscape, dragging it into darkness. Those who witness the light began to change, much like the city itself, now with a permanent aurora in the sky and a magnetic field that makes compasses useless and corrodes metal at a frightening rate. Those who changed exhibit strange powers: the ability to see and consume insects clutching peoples' chests, the power to separate composite objects like coffee or humans even the capability to show people scenes of their pasts. All the while they are stalked by the urban legend Boogiepop, supposedly the personification of death, who appears without warning to rid the world of the deviations that have sprung up. Clandestine talk of impossibly powerful corporations and unnatural evolution ensure that understanding the circumstances behind all of the strange occurrences will not be straightforward.
