Psycho-Pass Review

I’m going to be honest here. Sci-fi which mixes the ramifications of AI, cyborg enhancements, and a highly policed state ticks most of my boxes. Psycho-Pass, is an example of such a show. Combining the future crimes prevention of Minority Report, the heavy technological themes of Ghost in the Shell, and a dab of Blade Runner’s moody cyberpunk cityscape, Psycho-Pass manages to unsurprisingly be one of the special ones. I say unsurprisingly because when you have the likes of studio Production I.G. (Ghost in the Shell) backing the writing of Gen Urobuchi (Madoka Magica) it’s no wonder things turned out so well.

Standing at the core is the question of free will versus happiness. Japan, in the year of 2113, has reached a level of domestic peace never seen before, thanks to the Sibyl System. While similar to other dystopian aptitude tests and mass security systems, it doesn’t merely restrict. The true purpose is to empower the individual with the ability to live a happy life while making a valuable contribution to society. The most intriguing aspect, and the namesake of the show, is the psycho-pass. Through country-wide surveillance, Sybil can scan the psyche of a human with incredible accuracy. Depending on the level of an individual's “crime coefficient” Sybil then determines the proper course of action. When too high, the police are dispatched in order to arrest or potentially kill the “latent criminal.” Effectively, Sibyl has created a society with such low crime-rates that the fear of being a victim is an irrational one.

What I appreciate most about the worldbuilding though isn’t this core conceit alone. The best fictional environments work with the background details. Little touches like a cyborg politician meeting the skepticism of an interviewer on the subject of full-body conversion fleshes out a cyberpunk Japan without shoving it down the viewer’s throat. Such a detail holds little relevance in the core plot, but it makes for a believable advancement of technology and societal reactions. So often these types of settings hang their hat on a lone advancement, when in reality there should be numerous. Casually slipping in VR chat rooms which share commonalities to present day social media like Twitter or YouTube creates not only depth, but organic believability. When such a backdrop exists it become a character of its own, permitting tangible humanity to the cast.

Now, occasionally some reactions are jarring, mostly in regards to the masses. Then again, you have to take into account how different their world is from ours. Seeing someone being beaten in the streets is certainly not an act we’d call unbelievable. But to the Tokyo of 2113, those types of things don’t happen. In an odd sort of way, conveying the world of Psycho-Pass is almost like trying to picture the concept of nothingness. It’s really, really difficult and I’m willing to mostly forgive the times where things fall flat because of the shear alien nature of the concept.

The good news is, most of these moments take place away from the rather strong core cast.

Through each and every episode I couldn't shake off the feeling I got from the secondary lead, Shinya Kogami. As part of the enforcers, he does the dirty work for the police so that they can continue to be investigators with as minimal risk to their psycho-pass as possible. As the narrative progress so grows the similarities which had me comparing Kogami to Trigun’s Vash the Stampede or Cowboy Bebop’s Spike Spiegel. Not in zaniness, or sly badassery, but very much in the whole internally troubled hero. There’s a desire to uphold Sybil’s justice, but there’s also a powerful urge to do what he thinks is best. Pulling him in either direction are the protagonist, Akane Tsunemori, and antagonist Shogo Makishima. While each and every character can be loosely tied to tropes of the anime medium, you’d be hard pressed to label any a caricature. Akane initially comes off as scared little girl who solely relies on her belief that Sybil works as a system, but in time evolves in intriguing ways. Shogo, at first, seems to be the stereotypical genius villain, but by the end I found myself sympathizing with many of his views. He’s brutal, but not for the sole reason of being an oh-so-maniacal murderer.

There’s a scene where he’s discussing books with an underling and goes on to describe how he uses entertainment as a mood modifier. Media can affect us, despite what either side of the debate may claim, and it’s nothing to be scoffed at. Instances like that help to shape not only an excellent villain, but in some disturbing ways, an admirable one.

No crime-drama is complete without a mystery and there is most certainly a large one at play. Again, it’s not so prototypical you’ll figure the whole thing out well before the major reveal. Themes such as how Sybil and free will do or don’t co-exist are brought into question and reflect not only the characters but our world as well. Few episodes don't advance the cloak and dagger outside of a mid-season break which takes a slightly hamfisted approach to revealing a character's background.

It’s no secret that anime isn’t the mainstream success in the west that it is in Japan. As an advocate of the medium, I take pride in converting the non-believers. Psycho-Pass makes my task all the easier. The initial half-dozen episodes are akin to procedural crime-dramas such as Law and Order or The X-Files. The difference is, episodes aren’t just one and done. Their villains and their actions have a lasting impact upon the overarching narrative. Of course, western filmic and literary influences bring a presentation and tone which feels more familiar to said audience.

There isn't a whole lot I can lay against Psycho-Pass. While there are a few issues, they're minor and never manifest in any sort of malignant mass. Dialogue trip ups and the rare off-beat animation are certainly irksome, but I’d be lying if I said the presentation feels amateurish. If you're generally unfamiliar with the medium or unhappy with the number of teen romances, Psycho-Pass is a show I'm more than happy to recommend. If you’re just looking for something worth watching, again, Psycho-Pass it is.

9/10

The Kawai Complex Guide to Manors and Hostel Behavior Review

“Senpai noticed me.”

Another internet meme born from the world of anime. Evolving from cases where a younger person has romantic interest in an elder / superior and attempts to get themselves noticed. Kawai Complex- as I refer to it because the full title is longer and more unnecessary than Shia Labeouf’s acting career- is “senpai noticed me,” the anime.

Now, such a claim about ties to meme humor would appear to be damning, but it turns out Kawai Complex is one of the bigger surprises of this spring season. As a comedy / romance, it centers around Usa, a highschooler who has recently moved into a boarding home. Usa soon finds out however that not only are his fellow tenants a bit out there, but his crush also calls the complex home. As you’ve likely imagined, plenty of hijinks ensue while Usa awkwardly attempts to woo Ritsu during the havoc created by the other residents.

Many, even among devout anime fans, aren’t keen on the more comedic realms. Admittedly, I’m quite picky because this area tends to be highly derivative and filled with many of the valid reasons why some avoid anime. By no means is Kawai Complex overflowing with originality. The premise, the sexual innuendo; both tricks of a genre whose foundations are trope filled pillars.

Wisely though, much of the show takes place at the boarding home where the cast is sufficiently diverse. Little twists to caricatures like Shiro the pervy masochist who posses a childlike love of life and is ultimately harmless, keeps things from getting too familiar. Occasionally these types of anime walk a thin line of sleaze. There’s an episode in which Shiro befriends a young girl. Much like the audience, the residents’ minds instantly suspect the worst. The script is quickly flipped when everyone realizes they’ve jumped to an unfair conclusion. Such details are interesting twists to keep the viewers from having everything figured out from the get go.

While an overarching plot exists, there’s a very slice-of-life presentation. The episodic and comedic nature mix for the usual hit or miss quality. There’s never a bad episode, but some develop to be more tertiary in the plot department. This issue isn’t localized to an episode or two as the finale builds to what can only be called resolution lacking. The trouble here is the light novels of which the anime is based on has yet to be finished, so a satisfying conclusion was likely never in the cards. Additionally, there’s a good chance Kawai Complex could end up like other anime and never receive a second season.

There is an OVA planned for later this year, and it’s quite possible to wrap up the story with a single episode. Hopefully this is the case as the awkward teen romance of Usa and Ritsu is amusing enough to warrant a proper finish.

My expectations were low as I began the series thinking it would just be another one of “those” anime. Things quickly turned around as I came to realize this wasn’t another pandering mess. Much of the humor can be crass but occasionally witty too. While not a thinking man’s comedy, there were several times I had to double take on an unexpected crack at Usa’s innocence by Mayumi, or Shiro’s overly earnest masochism. There are some genuinely heartwarming moments too, which aren’t played up to staggeringly cheesy levels. They simply serve their purpose and make way for the comedic relief.

Kawai Complex is the culmination of a studio’s work to do enough to separate itself from the pack. From its water color with a slight haze visuals, cast, and plot, rarely did I feel like I had seen an anime exactly like it before. Revolutionizing a genre isn’t a must and sometimes it pays to fine tune what you already have. Of the roughly half-a-dozen comedic anime I’ve seen this year, this is most definitely my favorite.

8/10

Ping Pong the Animation Review

Familiarity is an enormous factor when one ponders what to watch next. Humans have an inborn fear of the unknown. Something as minor as art style can’t deter us from a potentially good time. I do by my best to avoid such limitations, so when I see people not giving Ping Pong the Animation a chance simply because of its visuals, I’m so utterly disappointed. As a critic there is nothing more validating to my work than someone thoroughly enjoying a piece I’ve suggested.

I get it, Ping Pong’s character designs are not beautiful in the same way the highly detailed or cutesy anime we have grown accustomed to are. The industry has been spinning its wheels for the past few years though. When something nontraditional comes along like Ping Pong, it’s reassuring to know there are artists out there pushing boundaries of what has become an increasingly homogenized medium.

If you haven’t nixed the art style, then congratulations, you are neither a troglodyte nor someone who won’t be enjoying a great show.

At the heart of Ping Pong is the timeless struggle of competition, rivalry, and where talent places those within the the grander trials and tribulations of life. The tools of choice are a handful of high school ping pong players in Japan. Yeah, yeah, another high school setting. As I firmly believe though, tropes can work when handled in refreshingly nuanced ways. Its cast- while not bustling- poses for an array of conflicts. There’s Kong, who was kicked off the Chinese national team and forced to find a place in his new home. Kazama, the mountain sized champion of Japan whose machine-like ambition and family pressure make him sacrifice much of his youth. Peco and the ironically nicknamed Smile are the stars though as they represent two sides of the same coin. Peco is the natural talent who became complacent with early success and Smile is an underachiever with an apathetic approach to everything.  

In the mere 11 episodes, the arcs undergone are as robust as a multi-season show. With so little time there isn’t much room for fluff, which does exist. There’s a character who appears only a few times but never really amounts to much. His basis, an average Joe who has no special talent for the sport, juxtaposes well but because of the lack of detail his slim arc is unnecessary.

Typically when one thinks of the sports genre- from any arena of entertainment- it’s a wasteland of tropes, where pandering and cheesiness beats out any legitimate plot. Despite the initial impression of a slow start, Ping Pong is much more character focused. As I mentioned before, this isn’t a cast to roll your eyes at; subsequently there’s little to no ham-fisted twists and turns. Refraining from spoilers: the ending is an artifice of laudable degree. Not only does it thoroughly satisfy without having to do the cliched last-minute heroics, but pulls an about face on much of the core perspective.

Something interesting brought to light is the stark difference between sports fiction and live sports. As much as stories of player comebacks from injuries or off-the-field struggles spice up real sports, it’s not the focus. I don’t sit down to watch the Flyers play hockey because I’m interested them in as human beings. I watch because of they’re on-ice actions. It strikes me as rather odd the sports genre at large often filters out the human factor during the climax. Ping Pong on the other hand intentionally downplays matches, with quick cuts and the brushing over of final scores. The shiny medal matters little in comparison to the internal conflicts winning and losing provides.

Much like last year’s Aku no Hana, with its rotoscope visuals, Ping Pong the Animation has become a hidden gem of its respective year. Those who are capable of getting past the unique art style will more than likely find themselves thoroughly enjoying it. Those incapable of doing so; I feel sorry for. There’s no piece of entertainment which pleases all, but by not giving such a fine piece its fair shot is a disservice to yourself and the medium.

9/10

Fargo Review

As Hannibal and Bates Motel have proven, shows based on classic films can end up with massively different levels of quality. Bluntly put, Bates Motel is utter shit while in its second season, Hannibal has become one of the premiere works of 2014. Now we come to Fargo, an FX production with an impressive cast and a loose relationship to the Coen brothers movie. Martin Freeman, Billy Bob Thornton, Colin Hanks, and Bob Odenkirk headline as the major names, but the big surprise is Allison Tolman who takes up a similar role to the film’s Marge Gunderson, as the only capable cop.

After three homicides set a small Minnesota town ablaze, Deputy Solverson (Tolman) is convinced her fellow officers have the case all wrong. And of course, they do, otherwise there wouldn’t be much of a show. Much like the the big screen edition, Fargo shows the stupidity of crime, as the awkward Lester Nygaard (Freeman) gets caught up in the homicides committed by a drifter named Lorne Malvo (Thornton).

For those more familiar with the works of the Coen Brothers, you’ll likely pick up on the similarities to No Country for Old Men. With some leeway, Brolin= Freeman, Bardem= Thornton, and Tommy Lee Jones = Tolman. Philosophical consistencies, such as how brave does law enforcement have to be in the face of overwhelming danger, can be found throughout.

As much as love the dark tone television has opened up to in recent years, it can be a overbearing. Fargo takes a welcomed approach of infusing what should be gruesome subject matter with just enough dark humor to create levity, but not so much it’s rendered incapable of hitting distressing strides. Malvo is the seemingly unstoppable force with years of experience as a hitman, taking what he wants from life. Watching how a single line of self-motivation from Malvo stirs up the belittled Lester into transforming his salary-man career and failing marriage into a Frankenstein creation is a wonderfully ugly evolution.

If there’s one glaring flaw, it’s the ending. Few things are more difficult in fiction than writing a satisfying conclusion. Predictable and safe are two descriptors you generally want to shy away from. While they won’t destroy all the good will built up, it leaves the audience feeling apathetic. A sterile ending is an unfitting climax to the craftsmanship which worked to build-up the tense atmosphere. The penultimate and much of the finale nail every aspect of anticipation of a big case coming to a close. Yet the payoff is… well, it’s mundanely realistic with a little bit of plot armor and a hole or two mixed in.

Quite possibly the message is real crime is often boring and the media / traditional crime-dramas have too heavy a focus on the action, rather than the people behind it. That’s if you're willing to do a bit of light stretching before a mental workout.

Philosophical quandaries aside, this is telling of some of the other issues as well. In retrospect a few of the plots are tertiary. Malvo's escapades with the grocery-store-millionaire boil down to little more than filler to showcase how creepy he is and tie-in the film. And yes, his humanity borders on animalistic but that's better conveyed through his interactions with those essential to the plot.

What is arguably most impressive is the creative direction. This could have easily been a re-imagining or prequel, but it’s not. Fargo is its own separate tale, and one can have never seen the film and still enjoy the show. The creators knew exactly how much to borrow from the Coen's. The bleak winter wasteland visuals, the amusing accents juxtaposed to the grim content, even the fake opening regarding a basis in reality. They provide for something intrinsically Fargo and Coen brothers but never step on the toes of the new.

Brief, yet poignant for nearly its entirety, Fargo proves the formula of bringing in big names for the short-term can not only work, but excel. Ten episodes exemplify what I wish we'd see more of from American television. Like True Detective earlier in the year, a tight narrative constrained to a season's worth of episodes can be more favorable than dragging one out over eight seasons. It's not impossible to create something with such life over a long period, but it's often best to have your story written from beginning to end before you start telling it.

The few flaws in the way of shaky finishes are heavily outweighed by what precedes them. It’s unlikely you’ll walk away thinking with new, earthshaking insight on the definition and capabilities of shows, but for those looking for a filmic touch to their television, then Fargo is it.

8.5/10

Game of Thrones Season Four Review

(I did my best to dance around spoilers. You've been warned.)

If you had asked me prior to the fourth season of Game of Thrones what my five favorite shows were, it would have been among those listed. With three incredible seasons masterfully crafting a world with depth and brutality most have never associated with television, it has rightfully earned the praise received.

Expectations can be a funny thing though. When you expect little and receive much, applause tends to be all the louder for it. When there’s an expectation for greatness, outcomes falling short are criticized more heavily. In the cultural zeitgeist that has become Game of Thrones, it’s rather taboo to speak any ill words of it within earshot of those caught up in the hype. Criticism of any sort is seen as hate, which I vehemently disagree with. If you love something, you want it to be the best it can be. This is precisely why I see the fourth season as a step down from the lofty heights of its predecessors. It didn’t meet my expectations: plain and simple.

With that said, a season worse than the others still leaves plenty of room for greatness.

While co-creators David Benioff and D.B. Weiss prefer to not sum up each iteration with a running theme, this was undoubtedly the year of the younger faces learning how to deal with the unforgiving nature of their world. Jon, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Danny, all of them evolve in ways showing a pragmatic ruthlessness which we had only seen in drips. The trouble is- outside of Sansa who often plays second fiddle in her scenes- the evolutions are stretched and inconsistent.

Danny in particular is the biggest offender. For three seasons now we’ve seen her building up an army. What came of her latest exploits? Well, she now presides over the cities which she fought to free from slavery rather than crossing the Narrow Sea. The interesting result is she’s now gotten a taste of what it’s like to rule, but that’s only "well" executed across the initial four or five episodes. The remainder of her presence is little more than a reminder. A tacked on romance between Grey Worm and Missandei, repetitious court sessions, a brief finale scene of dragon punishment; none of these compare to her presence in the latter moments of the previous three seasons. Her arc has been all about anticipation and payoff. Seeing her get wronged and then bringing satisfactory justice to those at fault, while continuing to build up her eventual arrival to Westeros.

And that sums up this season’s big issue. Too many characters. While at one point Game of Thrones’ masterful manipulation of more plots than seemingly possible was a strength, the continued addition and fracturing of plots paved the way for hollow presentations. Stannis, Theon, Ygritte, Brienne, Gilly; even bigger names like Bran, Danny, and Arya all beg an important question. Do you miss them when they aren’t on screen? Most of the time my answer is a resounding no. The cast has become so large you can hardly say there was a major focal point. Season one had Ned, two had Tyrion, and three took a collective approach with a handful of those in power vying for control of the Iron Throne. Season four is much more of a conglomerate, where the creators seem to aim for equal importance of all and end up with a less impactful presence across the board.

But what of the second draw? The cruel treatment of all characters by which author George R.R. Martin has become known for. In its unpredictability, Game of Thrones has become somewhat predictable. At least when it comes to death. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, just a new challenge. If the audience knows no one is safe then how do you still make them care when death comes knocking? The solution is admittedly straightforward, but not all that easy to execute. You’ve got to make the characters worth caring about. A prime example would be the closing moments of the episode titled “ The Viper and The Mountain.” I knew a certain someone’s demise was a possibility, but damn if there weren't  Attack on Titan levels of uncomfortability on resonating outward as I viewed. Every act of betrayal or untimely demise feels deeply personal, because of how well done the majority of characters are. Though one can now suspect anytime we starting taking a liking to someone they're most likely next on the chopping block.

While it’s true most shows save these hard hitting moments for last, Game of Thrones has a history of packing penultimates with what many consider to be the high points of each season, while the finales act more as hype machines for what’s to come. Thankfully this wasn’t the case. Not that I dislike the approach, but the aforementioned issues wouldn’t allow for fewer plots being wrapped up. Stannis, Bran, Arya, and Sansa; they’ve always had potential and it’s nice to see it being realized.

What interest me most though is the coming tonal shift. Those wights, Bran’s magic, and of course Danny’s dragons are going to have a major effect on the fantasy versus political machinations balance. Come season six and beyond, I can see this being a welcoming alteration. By no means has the backstabbing and less fantastical elements grown tiresome, but considering the creators were aiming for seven seasons before G.R.R.M. expressed interest in an eighth book, such an evolution would help keep things fresh.

Game of Thrones continues to be one of the best shows currently airing. While I’m disappointed it hasn’t more confidently strode into the throne which was once held by Breaking Bad, I’m unable to say that it’s anything less than holistically great. Season four certainly has balancing issues in regards to its overabundance of characters, and one particular death didn’t hit nearly as hard as I would have liked. Conversely, the crux of what makes the world such a complex and believably morose place still holds true. The cast is a superior one to most on television these days, and the writing and acting remains mostly indomitable. Other than that whole rape scene which the director denies is a rape scene. That's easily the lowest point of the entire series.

Is Game of Thrones the best show of 2014? No, I can confidently put a handful ahead of it. It is however more than worth your time and if you’ve not already jumped on the Game of Thrones wagon, this is nothing to be discouraged by.

8.5/10

I Watch Things #19: Winter Round-Up

The Walking Dead- I’ve made my like-hate relationship with The Walking Dead well known in the past. Long stretches of quality episodes always find a way to be completely undermined by one or two really bad ones. The first half of season four made this abundantly clear. A new executive producer subtracted some of the B-movie zombie flick and added more of character-driven narrative, akin to the Telltale game. Even the Governor manages to draw interest, but that soon dies within the final two episodes.

The second half does no favors early. Contradicting “lore” when Michonne uses her dismembered walkers as cover and inane contrivances which see the return of one particular character out of the blue. In typical TWD fashion, it manages to turn-around before too long.

I’ve always said Darryl has the potential to be the best character. He’s the one person who’s actually been made better by the outbreak. Rick and the crew are always trying to keep their humanity while Darryl tires to gain his. Having Beth bring him back from the brink, being around the real morally abhorrent; it displays a side of him the previous three and half seasons gloss over. It’s not just Darryl either, the entire cast is made better by a much more reserved approach. Divided, and facing more personal issues rather than “oh no, bad guys are going to attack our home,” the true weight of an apocalypse sets in.

But guess what. The finale, forgot to be a finale. You could argue the main plot is the group getting back together, but regrouping in a cannibal settlement isn’t exactly a resolution. People are going to die, that’s a given but what we’re left with is a tease. The plot has yet to hit its climax, which is why the finale would have made for a great penultimate for the season.There’s a whole lot of build-up to an obvious twist, and a fade to black.

Somehow, someway every time I say I’ve almost given up on the show it jumps right back. While never great it manages to keep being incredibly accessible with streaks of “this is almost as good as the game.”

Kill la Kill- I often advocate anime to those unfamiliar with the form. I would love to see a day where my social media is obliterated by anime talk, just like it so often is by Game of Thrones or The Walking Dead. Kill la Kill is the last place someone with reservations about the medium should dive in. I wasn’t sure of it myself when I started. The level of nudity and lewdness is hefty enough to make the biggest of otaku feel uncomfortable. Give it a few episode and you’ll realize this is far from the truth. Kill la Kill is unabashedly parodies and satires so much about otaku entertainment but in a fun, non-combative way. The plot is centered around the use of school uniforms to empower student-soldiers in a dystopian Japan, ruled by academies. The resistance force; these guys. Best of all, the lack of clothing isn’t specifically focused on one sex. Kill la Kill goes both ways, and does a good job in making sure it’s not just pandering to a male audience.

Despite the sexulization, Ryuko proves to be a better female character than a sizable portion of her counterparts across all entertainment. Which makes me both happy and disappointed. On one hand I love that even with what many claim to be fanservice,  Kill la Kill has many likable faces. On the other hand, Trigger didn’t have some profound artistic vision set to revolutionize storytelling. It’s an excessive animation with half-naked people kicking the shit out of each other because reasons.

From the masochistic gorilla sized Gamagori to the ironically nasal-voiced bandleader Nonon are likable in their own outrageous way. I love Ryuko for her loudmouth rebel, “I’m gonna smash your teeth out your ass” attitude but how she interacts with the others is just as important. It’s like watching a classic cartoon or video games characters with single-minded but highly stylized natures obliterate the living hell out of anything and everything. It’s simple and by no means intellectual prodding, but the target is hit.

With such buffoonery comes issues. The early pacing struggles due to some pointless episodes, and until the plot take a turn around episode 12, this continues. The other key weakness is how bipolar it can be. One minute Ryuko is nearly brought to tears and the next the zany Mako is being her usual loon-bag self. I personally found it charming, but certainly understand why others have criticized.

Kill la Kill isn’t the best anime of the past year, and it isn’t even the best of the more nonsensical stuff. It is however a testament to how diverse the medium can be when it wants to. Something sorely lacking in the west.

Plus, Hiroyuki Sawano- the composer for Attack on Titan- puts in some incredible work once again alongside some other talented artist. Case and point one of the best songs I’ve ever heard from an anime.

Space Dandy- I’ve said it on numerous occasions before, but if Shinichiro Watanabe is involved with an anime in anyway, I’m going to watch it. Besides sharing the director spotlight, Space Dandy is easily the outlier in his body of more serious-natured work. A parody of classic sci-fi along with a menagerie of all other sorts of goofiness, Dandy may be significantly more comedic, but the Watanabe touch is clear. The animation is gorgeous, the soundtrack catchy, and it takes influence from a number of sources but remains unique.

Admittedly it took some time to get comfortable. The first few episodes don’t make the purpose of plot abundantly clear. Sure enough, the humor really hits it stride and hints of an actual story are dropped.  It’s utter nonsense, but of the good sort. Dandy frequents an outer space Hooters-esque restaurant known as “Boobies.” It’s not high-brow humor by any means, but it doesn’t have to be when you’ve got a pompadour-touting protagonist who kicks it with a space cat and an awkward robot.

In the mere 13 episodes that is the first season, no big twists to the formula are revealed, but it seems a likely route for the second season coming this summer. While not Watanabe’s best work, there are no glaring flaws to speak of and I’ll be tuning in this summer for sure.

Golden Time- For all intents and purposes, Golden Time should have fallen flat on its unimaginative face. Set at a Tokyo college, a boy is starting to get a new handle on life after an amnesia causing event. There he meets some prototypical anime characters who just barely have an edge of individuality about them. It’s a rom-com which moves away from the high-school setting in appearance, but not in spirit. Yet still I rather enjoy it because Golden Time embraces its nature while managing to avoid too many predictable plots or missteps.

The theme which courses through the veins is self-identity. What truly makes a person? Is it the moments which has led up to their current self, or where they’re attempting to reach? Banri, our protagonist, consistently struggles with this idea as his memories of his past self slowly seep forward, much to the detriment of his current life. As someone currently in college, I perfectly understand the sentiment. I want to move forward, but to do so I have to deal with the effects of my past and continue to grow.

Of course I don’t have an apparition holding me back. Yeah, not the most graceful introduction, but old Banri’s ghost acts more as a visible conscious to no one but the audience. This does however change to some degree later on, but that verges on spoiler territory. It’s forced and the creators should have dropped the idea but were probably encouraged to remain faithful to the light novels. Which is a shame because it’s the one glaring flaw which becomes blindingly stupid at times.

There’s a fair few tropes, such as 2D-Kun and a childhood friend who just so happens to be a cute girl, but for the most part, the singular complexity holds it all together well enough to warrant a viewing.