1. Justin Sevakis singles out Anno as a classic incarnation of the type: “Otaku-dom has something of a poster child in Hideaki Anno. Scrawny, unkempt, and with self-esteem peaking well below measurable levels, he’s become known for his neurotic demeanor as much as for the anime he’s directed” (Sevakis).
1. One of Wings of Honneamise’s worthiest successors, where the representation of urban architecture is concerned, is unquestionably Rintaro’s film Metropolis (2001), in which elements of Art Deco are comparably deployed in the generation of an alternate world of Byzantine intricacy.
1. Almost contemporaneous with Gunbuster, Mamoru Oshii’s movie Patlabor 1: The Mobile Police (1989) also contributed substantially to the redefinition of the mecha genre in the direction of serious sci-fi interspersed with comic elements. The sequels Patlabor 2: The Movie (dir. Oshii, 1993) and Patlabor WXIII: Movie 3 (dir. Fumihiko Takayama, 2002) robustly consolidated this trend.
2. “In Gunbuster and Gunbuster 2..., heroines Noriko and Nono have close relationships with more experienced female pilots (Kazumi and Lal’C), whom they both call ‘Oné-sama.’ The term is a respectful form of Japanese ane (older sister), but that doesn’t mean they’re family—in Japan, people often call young adult women oné-san to evoke a sense of casual familiarity.... Noriko and Nono employ it to forge closer relationships with Kazumi and Lal’C, but are careful to use sama instead of san at the end to show their respect for the other girls’ higher rank and superior pilot skills” (“Oné-sama,” p. 160).
1. Where generic mixes are concerned, a modality comparable to steampunk is the “pseudo-Western,” in which formulae characteristic of typical cowboy movies merge with ingredients drawn from classic science fiction and the martial-arts film. A good example is offered by the TV show Grenadier (dir. Hiroshi Koujina, 2004).
2. The plan to deploy old technologies for nefarious purposes, unscrupulously pursued by power-thirsty individuals, also provides a dramatic pivot for the TV show My-Otome (dir. Masakazu Obara, 2005–2006). In this series, set in an eminently retrofuturistic world, stringently selected young women are trained to become otome—elite bodyguards for the nobility. The heroine Arika Yumemiya, incidentally, recalls Gunbuster 2’s Nono (please see chapter 13) by dint of her cheerful idealism and determination to succeed against the odds. My-Otome constitutes the second season of My-HiME (TV series; dir. Obara, 2004–2005)—a drama-comedy likewise based on a gaggle of girls endowed with magical powers.
3. The Babel topos features prominently in dystopian science fiction of both the live-action and the animated varieties, as attested to by Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (1982), Mamoru Oshii’s Patlabor 1: The Mobile Police (1989) and Rintaro’s Metropolis (2001).
4. Please note that the movie Nadia of the Mysterious Seas, directed by Sho Aono for Seiei Animation and released in 1992, did not involve Gainax in any substantial fashion. The studio’s sole contributions to the project were portions of the footage extracted from the TV series.
1. An endearing example of otaku-based anime casting quintessentially cute characters is provided by the TV series Lucky Star (dirs. Yasuhiro Takemoto and Yutaka Yamamoto, 2007)—a show that chronicles the adventures of the obsessive fan Konata Izumi as she and her school friends strive to pursue their all-absorbing interests in the face of problematic adults. The generational tensions that pepper Gainax’s own output can here be sensed in a muted tone, abetted by pastelly hues and delicate dynamics.
1. The prototype for the theme of the reluctant hero entrusted by fate—and exploitative adults—with mecha-piloting responsibilities is supplied by Mobile Suit Gundam, a massive franchise active to this day that originated in a TV series directed by Yoshiyuki Tomino and aired in 1979–1980 and three compilation movies released in 1981–1982. An analogous matrix informs the TV series Fafner (dir. Nobuyoshi Habara, 2004), in which teenagers are callously drawn into a war against hostile aliens known as “Festum.” The young protagonists’ exploitation as sacrificial victims lends Fafner a distinctively somber mood often redolent of Evangelion.
The topos of children endowed with special powers whose birth takes place after a cataclysmic event, exploited to maximum effect in Evangelion, is likewise central to the TV show Gilgamesh (dir. Masahiko Murata, 2003–2004)—as is the cloning theme concomitantly deployed in Evangelion. Murata’s Gothic thriller unfolds in the aftermath of a terrorist attack of momentous scale, responsible for reconfiguring the entire environment and for transforming the sky into a hallucinatory mirror. As two ruthless factions vie for supremacy in a secret and ghastly war, a brother and sister named Tatsuya and Kiyoko are caught in its midst, uncertain about either their allegiances or their destiny.
Another male protagonist who, like Evangelion’s Shinji, is transposed from a dull and sheltered existence to a scene of cosmic strife is Renton from the TV series Eureka Seven (dir. Tomomi Kyoda, 2005–2006). Renton, too, gradually recognizes the importance of not “running away” as the precondition of both self-understanding and meaningful interaction with others. The female protagonist Eureka, incidentally, is reminiscent of Rei in both her design and her enigmatic nature. Renton’s desire to make her “smile” recalls Shinji’s wish to elicit that same response from Rei in Evangelion’s Episode 6. At the cinematographical level, Eureka Seven echoes Anno’s saga in its handling of lighting effects, explosions and flashbacks, as well as the visual trope of the biomechanoid’s gleaming green eye as it attains awareness.
2. The phrase “Central Dogma” is derived from the field of genetics, in which it designates the law—formulated by Francis Crick in 1958—whereby once genetic information contained in the RNA and the DNA has been transferred to proteins it cannot flow back to genetic acid.
3. Evangelion’s effective employment of pseudo-documentary evidence to lend solidity to its narrative is echoed by the TV series Gasaraki (dirs. Ryousuke Takahashi and Goro Taniguchi, 1999), in which the plot is often advanced by recourse to news reports, the style of which closely resembles the coverage of the first Gulf War by CNN.
4. The Shinto religion is also overtly invoked in the TV series Blue Seed (dir. Jun Kamiya, 1994–1995) and in its OVA sequel Blue Seed Beyond (dirs. Jun Kamiya and Kiyoshi Murayama, 1996). Blue Seed’s protagonist, Momiji Fujimiya, is a descendant of the mythical Princess Kushinada and is supposed to offer herself in sacrifice to appease the legendary “Yamata no Orochi” (“Eight-forked Snake”) as the “Aragami” (“angry gods”) spawned by the monster rampage through Japan and the United States. With the aid of the secret organization TAC and of the human-Aragami hybrid Mamoru Kusanagi, however, Momiji escapes her sacrificial destiny and chooses to fight the invaders instead. Consistent reference is concurrently made to the Shinto god Susanoo, reputed to have rescued the original Princess Kushinada when her own turn to give her life to Orochi had come.
5. In deploying religious symbolism, Evangelion has also paved the way for a number of subsequent anime. A recent instance of the medium’s unorthodox appropriation of biblical mythology is offered by the TV series Trinity Blood (dir. Tomohiro Hirata, 2005). This pivots on the character of Abel Nightrod, a priest working for the Vatican charged with the task of fighting vampires. Neither human nor vampire, Abel is endowed with the nanotechnological power to morph into a demonic creature called a “Kresnick” that is capable of sucking the blood of vampires to nefarious effect. The supporting character of Esther Blanchett, a stylishly plucky nun also employed by the Vatican, provides a further instance of the show’s iconoclastic handling of Christianity. (An earlier instance of a demon-fighting nun, sexier and more overtly amusing than Esther, features in Chrono Crusade, a TV series directed by Yuu Kou and aired in 2003–2004.)
Evangelion’s hearty appetite for occult symbolism is echoed by the TV show Fullmetal Alchemist (dir. Seiji Mizushima, 2003–2004). This chronicles the tragic fate of Edward and Alphonse Elric, two boys that roam the world in search of the Philosopher’s Stone deemed capable of restoring the limbs (in Edward’s case) and entire body (in Alphonse’s) they lost in a disastrous attempt to resurrect their mother by alchemical means.
6. The contrast between a subterranean realm and the Earth’s surface is likewise central to the TV series Tokyo Underground (dir. Hayato Date, 2002). The inhabitants of the world located beneath Tokyo’s underground system are people endowed with the magical ability to control various elements (hence their designation as “Elemental Users”) and are hell-bent on annihilating the surface people whom they regard as traitors. The show’s heroine, the “Priestess of Life” Ruri Sarasa, and her bodyguard and tutor Chelsea Rorec manage to escape to the surface but the Elemental Users are determined to get the girl back at all costs because they need her powers in order to awaken the dragon instrumental to the fulfillment of their mission. The trope of an underground world seemingly devoid of hope wherein a determined, yet vulnerable, youth puts on a heroic performance against all odds is central to the TV show Texhnolyze (dir. Hiroshi Hamazaki, 2003). Trapped in the squalor of the subterranean city of Rususku, the professional fighter Ichise lives a life of extreme violence with nihilistic resignation until the psychic Ran ushers him into an alternate vision where the future is not incontrovertibly bleak.
1. It is also useful to compare the TV show’s apportioning of the seventeen Angels to its episodes and Death’s own approach to the issue.
TV Episode: 1; Angel: 3; Death Segment: 1; Angel : 1
TV Episode: 2; Angel: 3; Death Segment: 2; Angel : 3/17
TV Episode: 3; Angel: 4; Death Segment: 3; Angel : 3
TV Episode: 4; Angel: —; Death Segment: 4; Angel : 3/4
TV Episode: 5; Angel: 5; Death Segment: 5; Angel : 6/7/8/14/15
TV Episode: 6; Angel: 5; Death Segment: 6; Angel : 2/5/14/15/16
TV Episode: 7; Angel: —; Death Segment: 7; Angel : — TV Episode: 8; Angel: 1/6; Death Segment: 8; Angel : 14/17
TV Episode: 9; Angel: 7; Death Segment: 9; Angel : 13
TV Episode: 10; Angel: 8; Death Segment: 10; Angel : —
TV Episode: 11; Angel: 9; Death Segment: 11; Angel : 2/17
TV Episode: 12; Angel: 1/10
TV Episode: 13; Angel: 11
TV Episode: 14; Angel: —
TV Episode: 15; Angel: 2
TV Episode: 16; Angel: 12
TV Episode: 17; Angel: —
TV Episode: 18; Angel: 13
TV Episode: 19; Angel: 14
TV Episode: 20; Angel: —
TV Episode: 21; Angel: —
TV Episode: 22; Angel: 2/15
TV Episode: 23; Angel: 16
TV Episode: 24; Angel: 2/17
1: Adam
2: Lilith
3: Sachiel
4: Shamshel
5: Ramiel
6: Gaghiel
7: Israfel
8: Sandalphon
9: Matariel
10: Sahaquiel
11: Iruel
12: Leliel
13: Bardiel
14: Zeruel
15: Arael
16: Armisael
17: Tabris
2. Anime’s passion for gigantic female figures laden with mythological connotations of the kind seen in the directors’ cut of Episode 23 of the Evangelion series and in End is also borne out by the character of Sharon Apple in Macross Plus: The Movie (dir. Shouji Kawamori, 1995)—an idol singer of intergalactic fame that actually happens to be a holographic AI and whose colossal shape fills the screen in the movie’s near-apocalyptic climax. In Bubblegum Crisis—Tokyo 2040 (TV series; dir. Hiroki Hayashi, 1998), the action’s crowning moments are likewise dominated by a mammoth synthetic creature known as Galatea who—like the pursuers of Human Instrumentality in Evangelion—seeks to assimilate all humans into a single entity. (The series also echoes Anno’s saga in its treatment of the themes of parental abuse and political corruption, as well as in its emphasis on the brute materiality of mecha.)
3. A project developed in tandem with the new films that offers a radically contrasting take on the Evangelion universe is Petite Eva—a fun-packed initiative wherein the somber mood of the original anime gives way to both discreet comedy and downright zaniness. The project features adorably bizarre SD versions of the characters executed by manga artist Ryusuke Hamamoto, who belongs to the first generation of Evangelion fans. The setting for their adventures is “NERV Academy” and the school-comedy formula accordingly provides a diegetic leading thread. (Unit-01 itself appears as a pupil of indeterminate age named “Evancho.” As for Rei, her three incarnations coexist as the “Ayanami sisters.”) The first phase in the franchise consists of the release of collectible figurines produced by Bandai Boys Toy Department but is expected to spawn a much wider variety of products as the stories based on these reconfigured characters develop and cross over into other visual media.
Gainax’s imaginative approach to ancillary merchandise is also demonstrated by the 2008 calendar tied in with the release of 1.0. This consists of a minigallery of characters from the saga executed by the artist Youichi Fukano, garbed in costumes that integrate elements of film-noir, Goth and cabaret styles in a classy monochrome. This is succinctly captured by the piece’s very title: Evangelion: 1.0—Black and White. The figure of the cross—a ubiquitous motif throughout the saga at the levels of both central spectacle and marginal decor—is repeatedly invoked in the characters’ accessories. This suggests that religious iconography can serve ornamental purposes, in much the same way as Evangelion’s religious and mythological frame of reference is, by and large, candidly deployed for the purpose of entertainment. Moreover, the emblem also alludes to vampire lore, and is therefore perfectly consonant with the costumes’ Goth dimension. Fukano’s work concurrently shows that in placing the characters in situations alien to the world of the main story and visualizing their feasible attitudes therein, an artist can emulate the ethos of “Method Acting.”
1. Both the TV series and the parent manga are frequently referred to as “Kare Kano” (or “Karekano”), an abbreviation of the full original title that reflects the tendency, popular among the Japanese, to create new words by combining the opening syllables of existing words. (The English version of the manga, published by Tokyopop, is overtly titled Kare Kano.) The original title of the later Gainax show This Ugly Yet Beautiful World is, analogously, habitually shortened to “Kono Mini” (or “Konomini”).
2. Significantly, the image placed next to the entry for Hideaki Anno in the “Staff” list presented on the studio’s official website, Gainax Net, portrays a green-eyed tabby (http://www.gainax.co.jp/staff/index.html). A further feline connection is indicated by the director’s curriculum vitae, in which he is said to have played the character of Miyu Miyu in FLCL (http://www.animenewsnetwork.com/encyclopedia/people.php?id=15).
3. It is not uncommon for Japanese animation to toy with gender ambiguity, for example, by planting false clues to a character’s sexual preferences for dramatic effect, or by using shifts in erotic orientation to illustrate a character’s broader psychological development. The TV series Ranma 1/2 (dirs. Tomomitsu Mochizuki, Tsutomo Shibayama, Koji Sawai and Junji Nishimura, 1989–1992) is a perfect illustration of the deployment of gender-bending for fundamentally comedic purposes. In the show, an ancient curse causes the teenage boy Ranma Saotome to turn into a girl whenever he comes into contact with water, and his father Genma to morph into a giant panda in response to the same stimulus. The two characters’ repeated metamorphoses are the trigger of well-sustained hilarity. More recently, Kashimashi—Girl Meets Girl (TV series; dir. Nobuaki Nakanishi, 2006) has provided a tantalizing experiment in the field through the complications spawned by Hazumu Osaragi’s metamorphosis into a girl when a UFO crashes into him and his body is inadvertently reconstituted by the aliens in female form. Previously shunned as undesirable, Hazumu ironically becomes popular with ladies in the wake of his transformation.
1. Young protagonists dissatisfied with the banality of their everyday lives are a recurrent feature in anime. A highly entertaining instance of this trend is offered by the protagonist of the TV show The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya (dir. Tatsuya Ishihara, 2006)—an eccentric teenager determined to see mysteries and abnormalities round every corner. Indulging this passion, she founds a school club dedicated to the detection of aliens, time travelers and paranormal activities, thereby plunging her mates into a whirlwind of mind-bending adventures. An explicit homage to Gainax’s oeuvre is introduced right from the start in the guise of a “combat waitress from the future,” Mikuru Asahina, who is garbed in a Bunny costume, endowed with a bouncing bosom and entrusted with the task of protecting a young man supposed to be an “esper.” While explicitly echoing Daicon 4 and Mahoromatic, these elements simultaneously foreshadow Gunbuster 2.
2. The show’s incorporation of allusions to a fairy tale is quite congruous with its coming-of-age dimension: as Jack Zipes points out, fairy tales indeed play a key part in the socializing process (Zipes). Puss-In-Boots is an especially apposite case in which FLCL is concerned insofar as the feline figure functions as a potent instigator of both material and emotional growth. Readers with a passion for anime instilled with fairy-tale elements—and especially those who happen to harbor a fascination with felinity—might wish to sample the movie Whisper of the Heart (dir. Yoshifumi Kondou, 1995) and its semi-sequel The Cat Returns (dir. Hiroyuki Morita, 2002).
3. The image of the Bunny Girl is also used in Episode 15—“Fortune River”—of Melody of Oblivion in the role of one of the protagonist’s most lethal enemies.
4. The scene is redolent of the sequence in the TV series InuYasha (dirs. Masashi Ikeda and Yasunao Aoki, 2000–2004) in which the protagonist, Kagome, spots the Sacred Tree to which the eponymous hero is sealed with an arrow, asleep, and feels an irresistible longing to stroke his dog-like ears.
5. Readers keen on anime’s specifically musical dimension are advised to sample Shinichiro Watanabe’s Cowboy Bebop (TV series: 1998–1999; movie: 2001), in which the entire action—and most notably the sequences revolving around space battles and martial-arts fights—are set to music explicitly inspired by various jazz and early rock styles, delivering an infectiously funky mood. Director Watanabe’s fascination with swish musical accompaniment can again be detected in the TV show Samurai Champloo (2004–2005), in which turbulent events drawn from a fictionalized history of feudal Japan unfold against the background of a refreshingly stylish, downtempo soundtrack, infused with a good dose of hip-hop. Nerima Daikon Brothers (2006), a TV series directed by Shinichi Watanabe (not the same Watanabe, it must be stressed) is likewise worthy of notice as an inspired adaptation of the musical comedy format to the medium of anime. The more classically oriented readers may wish to consider the TV series Piano: The Melody of a Young Girl’s Heart (dir. Norihiko Sudo, 2002–2003), in which the emotional and psychosexual maturation of the introverted teenager Miu Nomura is consistently tracked with reference to her development as a piano player and, eventually, composer.
1. Mahoro’s relatively immature appearance ren-ders her prowess all the more remarkable, thereby also providing a refreshing alternative to the buxom look typically exhibited by female fighters in sci-fi anime. Notable instances of this trend are the designs for the heroines of the movie Appleseed (dir. Shinji Aramaki, 2004), Deunan Knute, of the TV series 009-1 (dir. Naoyuki Konno, 2006), Mylene Hoffman, and—most famously and iconically—of the feature films Ghost in the Shell (dir. Mamoru Oshii, 1995) and Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence (dir. Mamoru Oshii, 2004), as well as of the televisual spin-offs Ghost in the Shell: S.A.C (dir. Kenji Kamiyama, 2002–2004) and Ghost in the Shell: S.A.C, 2nd Gig (dir. Kamiyama, 2004– 2005), the incomparable Major Motoko Kusanagi. All of these characters vaunt voluptuous curves and overt sex appeal.
1. The concept of parallel universes so central to Abenobashi (and previously alluded to by Mahoromatic in its account of Saint’s intergalactic expeditions) has enlisted the creative skills of countless directors. A notable illustration within contemporary anime is supplied by the TV series Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle (dir. Koichi Mashimo, 2005–2006)—the story of Princess Sakura of Clow, whose heart and memories are stolen by an evil sorcerer and scattered in the form of feathers across disparate worlds, and of the young archaeologist Syaoran, who devotes himself heroically to the retrieval of the feathers, although he is aware that Sakura will never remember him or what he had ever meant to her in the occluded past. A further example of anime’s fascination with the trope of spatiotemporal displacement can be found in Kyo Kara Maho! (TV series; dir. Junji Nishimura, 2006), in which Yuri Shibuya, a perfectly average bloke, ends up in charge of a kingdom of demons as a result of being flushed down a public toilet.
1. The idea that in order to defeat a monster you have to become one is also elaborated in Claymore (TV series; dir. Hiroyuki Tanaka, 2007), in which brain-eating shape-shifters known as “Yoma” can be vanquished only by superhuman warriors (the Claymores) constructed by implanting Yoma flesh and blood into regular humans. Sadly, the latter are deeply suspicious of Claymores and indeed often refer to them as “monsters.”
The metamorphosis concept so axial to This Ugly Yet Beautiful World finds one of its most potent realizations with the TV series Wolf’s Rain (dir. Tensai Okamura, 2003). The story (which additionally shares with Saeki’s show a concern with evolution) is set in a postapocalyptic world seemingly on the verge of termination, in which wolves are believed to have been extinct for two hundred years. It gradually becomes clear, however, that the animals have not been the victims of an irreversible evolutionary warp but have actually managed to survive and learnt how to take on human form when necessary. In the process, the show delivers a captivating string of metamorphoses whose dramatic impact affectively echoes Takeru’s own transformations.
The theme of physical mutation is no less prominent in K.O. Beast (1992), an OVA series directed by Hiroshi Negishi in which the main characters—shape-shifters capable of alternating between human and bestial incarnations—deploy their powers in pursuit of a legendary treasure. Another anime feat worthy of inspection by any spectator keen on the metamorphosis motif is provided by the TV series R.O.D (a.k.a. Read Or Die)—The TV (dir. Koji Masunari, 2004). In this show, the “Paper Sisters” Michelle, Maggie and Anita utilize their telekinetic powers to manipulate paper so sensationally as to be able to stop bullets by means of mere Post-its, fling index cards as though they were shuriken or even turn flimsy sheets into giant birdlike planes.
2. The schizoid-personality trope is tantalizingly deployed in the TV show D.N.Angel (dirs. Koji Yoshikawa and Nobuyoshi Habara, 2003) in which fourteen-year-old Daisuke Niwa, a perfectly ordinary and un-pretentious teenager, mutates into the legendary Phantom Thief Dark whenever he thinks about the girl of his dreams. The possession of anomalous DNA is revealed to be the cause of this double personality. Daisuke’s mother unscrupulously capitalizes on the boy’s metamorphic powers to have him steal treasurable artifacts.
3. The flesh-and-blood Hikari and Akari are merely provisional incarnations of a fundamentally incorporeal force. While this narrative ruse is deployed to memorable effect in Saeki’s show, it should be noted that the reverse phenomenon of decorporealization can achieve equally remarkable dramatic results. This is patently borne out by the TV series Fullmetal Alchemist (dir. Seiji Mizushima, 2003–2004), in which Alphonse Elric, aided by his brother Edward, tenaciously endeavors to reoccupy the body lost in childhood as a result of their mishandling of magic. The same concept is central to the TV series Samurai Deeper Kyo (dir. Junji Nishimura, 2002), in which the protagonist, Demon Eyes Kyo, seeks to regain a material form of his own after his soul has been sealed inside the body of his enemy Kyoshiro Mibu, effectively forcing him to share his corporeality with another being.
4. The butterfly image is similarly deployed to memorable dramatic effect in the TV show Boogiepop Phantom (dir. Takashi Watanabe, 2000), in which one of the principal characters, the hyper-evolved Manaka, is able to extract memories from her surround-ings and concretize them in the form of butterflies of light. (Importantly, in Boogiepop Phantom no less than in Saeki’s show, the evolution topos plays an axial part.)
1. The notion that hard work and guts are vital to the assertion of one’s identity at both the personal and the societal levels features prominently in Japanese culture. In the realm of animation, a paradigmatic example is supplied by the sensationally popular TV series Naruto (dir. Hayato Date, 2002–2007), in which a young boy who acts as the living container of a nine-tailed demon fox—and should therefore be regarded as an object of respect and even veneration—is actually shunned by all as though he were an evil spirit himself. However, the eponymous hero tenaciously demonstrates his worth through his total and unflinching commitment to ninjutsu (a.k.a. shinobi-jutsu, the art of the ninja), steadily maturing as the series progresses.
2. As the Gainax Pages review of Gunbuster 2 points out, Tsurumaki has partly harnessed this show to the elaboration of “some of his ideas from FLCL.” These include:
• Cats are used in both shows to communicate across space.
• Robots pop out of foreheads in FLCL through something called N-O Fields, while in Diebuster the Busters are controlled somehow through forehead patches.
• There may be a connection between the Fraternity in Diebuster and the Fraternity in FLCL that Amarao works for.
• Vespa-ish motor scooters [“Gainax Pages reviews: Gunbuster 2”].
Also worthy of attention are similarities between the character designs for Lal’C and Kitsurubami, and between the mecha designs for the Dix-Neuf and the coated giant robot presented in FLCL’s climax.
3. Of all the anime productions in which Gainax has been involved to date, the one in which adult content is most graphically presented is Oruchuban Ebichu (Ebichu the Housekeeping Hamster, a.k.a. Ebichu Minds the House), a 24-episode series of short animations about a talking hamster, her O.L. (“office lady”) owner and the latter’s useless boyfriend. Directed by Makoto Moriwaki, the program was first aired in 1999 as one third of the show Modern Love’s Silliness. The sexual content is here deployed not so much in pursuit of fan service as for the purpose of exuberant comedy. Ebichu’s humor might not be to everybody’s taste but its artfully simple pictorial style is worthy of notice in its own right.
4. Should the reader wish to sample fictional means of locomotion other than mecha, two shows definitely worthy of consideration are the TV series Eureka Seven (dir. Tomoki Kyouda, 2005–2006), in which surfing “trapar” (i.e., Transparence Light Particles) waves is a favorite activity, and the TV series Air Gear (dir. Hajime Kamegaki, 2006), in which self-propelled inline skates known as “Air Trecks” (or AT for short) enable their wearers to literally ride the air. The aura of playfulness emitted by the Buster Machines in Tsurumaki’s show can also be detected in this equipment.
5. The setting of this sequence in a nondescript location tagged “Polydimensional Space, Space-Time Censor Room” is a direct allusion to the “strong cosmic censorship hypothesis” put forward by Roger Penrose in 1979. This maintains that even though a naked singularity is hypothetically possible, it could never be visible to any observer. It is as though the laws of physics deliberately proscribed that which they cannot account for.
1. As Haruo Shirane emphasizes, traditional Japanese poetry has likewise attached great significance to a work’s corporeal dimension: “Japanese poetry,” constitutes “a material object for which calligraphy, paper, and packaging were probably as important as the poem itself.... The type, color, and size of the paper were also important. The poet could also add a sketch, attach a flower or leaf, or add incense or perfume to the poetry sheet. The poem as material object was often a gift for the host, friend, or lover. Matching the poem or paper with the social occasion or season was a key factor in its effectiveness or performativity” (Shirane, pp. 223–224).
2. Richard Williams has usefully commented on the relationship between animation and music: “I think of animation as drawn music. It’s very similar; the timing is similar—the passion, the contrast, how you join things together interestingly” (Lennert).
3. Within an educational milieu, Gainax’s oeuvre could supply an apposite vehicle for the study of the interpenetration of visual and textual information, as well as a means of stimulating the simultaneous processing of figures and graphemes.