There’s a fundamental problem with No Game No Life in that when the series isn’t revelling in the games that form the core of its mythos, it’s chronically dull. Like a lot of series this doesn’t become apparent until well into its run and for NGNL it’s the shift away from minute-to-minute, seat-of-your-pants gaming pugilism towards the “long game” that starts being played.
they’ll pull through and they’ll do it with enough self-knowing swagger and pomposity to make it seem like it was all planned
Rewind though. Young man and even younger girl get transported to a fantasy realm of elves and angels where every conflict is resolved with a game. These games cover the spectrum from cards to chess to video games and are governed by a set of rules outlined by the whimsical child-like deity Tet. As I mentioned in my Mondaiji-tachi review, it’s a well realised world that takes its core conceit to its logical extreme: nothing is contested without a game. This obviously puts our heroes, Sora and Shiro, at the top of the pile because of their impossibly prodigious game playing abilities.
A review of the Bayonetta: Bloody Fate anime movie
I’m not the best person to be objective about the Bayonetta anime movie, Bloody Fate, or anything to do with the franchise to be honest. The amount of time I spent on the first game was more extensive than any other I have ever played and I was halfway through a ridiculously difficult challenge (a Pure Platinum run) when either through circumstance or willpower I dragged myself away from it. I can’t look at the movie with fresh eyes and comment on the blatant ridiculousness of it all because for better or worse, it has lifted the game’s style, attitude and story directly from the first game.
How about a muscly tattooed guy in shades playing the organ?!
The former two of those points are where the meat of a debate is, the latter though will undoubtedly be the biggest issue for newcomers. The titular Bayonetta is a witch with guns strapped to her high-heels and clothing made out of her own hair who fights against masked angels. Having been awoken from a centuries long slumber without any knowledge of her life before her torpor, she is strangely drawn to the reclusive leader of a religious order while being pursued by the tenacious journalist Luka. That’s the set up, the execution involves a motorcycle chase, a chainsaw three times longer than Bayonetta is tall and a whole lot of incongruous, barely censored nudity.
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.
A story of incarcerated juveniles trying to survive the horrors of a detention centre in a post-war Japan is not the most obvious or accessible material to construct a series from, but Rainbow Nisha Rokubou no Shichinin does exactly that. Who better then, than Madhouse to craft something thoroughly engrossing out of the dark and violent? With a mostly untested production staff as well, barring the art director from Aoi Bungaku. The thrash-metal opening may jar horrifically against the serene introduction, potentially turning away the indifferent or the apathetic, but a momentary persistence reveals a gripping tale of camaraderie against constant oppression and though the story of the first three episodes may cover some of the most grotesque acts people are capable of, it is a powerfully human story and difficult to turn away from.
gruesomely authentic and provides a voyeuristic glimpse into a time that demands to be remembered rather than avoided
Six masked adolescents are being transported to Shio reformatory, scorned by the populace and beaten by the guards, their punishment for their varying crimes already long begun. Violated and humiliated by the on-site doctor, all six are shown to their cell where a lone occupant, Rokurouta Sakuragi, awaits them. Their confrontational first meeting ends with Rokurouta uninjured and the others unceremoniously pummelled; what starts from there is a spirit of survival, each one enduring the constant beatings and malevolence perpetrated against them while coming to terms with their own pasts. One guard in particular seems to take a perverse, sadistic pleasure from thrashing the inmates - Rokurouta especially whom he bears a special grudge; his duplicitous tendencies threaten to splinter the group when their survival relies on their comradeship.
The opening moments of Shiguri are divisive: after a montage of lingering, abstract motions, a retainer prostrates himself before his lord and, in slick, gory detail, fatally offers his intestines up to enforce the severity of his request. What follows in the succeeding episodes is often harrowing, frequently disgusting, but never gratuitous - a meditation on the consequences of violence, set within a fiercely feudal system where the sword is the highest form of law. Coming from the same director as the exquisite Texhnolyze and the same studio as Aoi Bungaku, the subdued and graceful viciousness of the story is accompanied by visuals that are as dark as they are breathtaking. The whole then is a deeply affecting series that challenges many tropes common to the samurai genre and proves there is still a place for a poised and measured storytelling style.
raw and primal, as far from top-knots and toffs as possible
When a local lord calls a tournament, two visibly deformed swordsmen enter the arena: one missing his left arm, the other is blind and limping. The pair share a chequered history as two of the last practitioners of the Kogan style of swordplay. Named after Kogan Iwamoto, who after a faux pas concerning his polydactylism cost him a high ranking position, set up the school. Seigen Irako joined when Gennosuke Fujiki was still an assistant instructor, and after only a year came to rival him in proficiency. Both men vie for the position of successor to the Kogan style, and for the affections of Kogan's daughter, Mie; Seigen's hubris however will be his undoing as the school is unforgiving of slights against them and the punishment meted out will surpass mere cruelty. Revenge however, is just as ruthless.
