Ace Attorney: Phoenix Wright (Gyakuten Saiban) kicked off the Scotland Loves Anime Glasgow weekend at the Glasgow Film Theatre. An odd choice - a live action film pistol-starting an animation festival - a state of affairs not lost on the imitable Jonathan Clements who provided a brief introduction and set the context for the film.
I was reliably informed by the GFT's staff that the event had sold out, and with nary a spare seat in sight it was a difficult claim to dispute. When it came to the question of who had played the games, nearly everyone's hand in the auditorium shot skyward, myself excluded. A ten minute playtest of the Japanese DS version (which bizarrely had English subtitles) when it came out hardly constituted familiarity with the Phoenix's court-room pointing simulator.
Kuchu Buranko (Trapeze, lit. Sky Swing) is like a late night bevy of cocktails: all bright colours and mind altering effects. The first three episodes are an all out assault on aesthetics, everything is awash with luminous colours and textured with polka dots or garish swathes of clashing patterns. Sometimes barely discernible from the backdrops, the characters are animated haphazardly when they are at all, often devolving into poorly filtered live-action or blatant rotoscoping and other times jerking between poses with little warning. Like its closet meretricious sibling, Gankutsuou, the visuals are only meant to allure and the real meat of the episodes is worth risking sensory overload.
Beyond the scratchy, haphazard style it often feels like a technicolour slideshow
The mostly standalone stories are about individuals who have some sort of mental affliction which is examined by the whimsical psychiatrist Ichiro Irabu who changes form between an obnoxious green rabbit with permanent facial stubble, a precocious young boy whose lab coat is several sizes too large for him and an androgynous bespectacled boy in his late teens or early twenties. Even the patients are not immune to switching states, often depicted as animals which suit their condition; topping all of this madness off is a supposedly real life psychiatrist Fukuicchi who sporadically pops out of a scene for an aside on the current disorder being explored. The series so far is raucous, visually boggling and brilliant fun to watch.
Around the ending credits of the second episode one realises that they've just watched a flock of women's underwear take flight, some with mock jet-streams behind them. That the key element of Sora no Otoshimono's story - a busty, docile angel that fell from a hole in the sky - is the most tame concept of the series demonstrates how abjectly bizarre it is. The opening episode starts out tritely enough but then plunges into bizarre areas as a mostly naked teen runs rampant around his school which is frozen in time, until the penultimate closing scene where everyone in the world apart from the protagonist and fallen angel have evaporated. Were it not borderline misogynistic towards the female cast, this would be a surreal but enjoyable show.
they can alter reality on a whim but not manufacture some more discreet clothing
The sparsely dressed angel that is ground-zero for the ensuing bedlam is completely obedient and accommodating towards the reprehensibly crude lead, Sakurai; the master-slave situation is instantly repulsive, more so that the master of the pair pays little to no attention to her beyond barking orders. The obscenity continues when an order goes awry and causes the other lead female, Mitsuki, to be sans underwear and handcuffed for a large portion of the episode. The first three episodes are intermittently funny but an undercurrent of repugnance sours the otherwise competent show.
