All in all, ef - a tale of memories is a fascinating show.

And it bores me to tears.

I’m exaggerating, yes, but I have to admit that, after four episodes, I don’t find the show the slightest bit engaging. While watching, I feel completely detached from what’s going on, a little voice in the back of my head whispering, “you could be watching something else right now, you know.”

Still, Shaft gave it the ol’ college try, for which I have to give them credit. And, for that matter, the show’s shortcomings are probably more a weakness of the original material than the result of Shaft’s direction. The writing is convoluted in the way a lot of bishoujo games (and anime series, for that matter) are when focused more on being groundbreaking than on weaving a good tale. Some people go for that sort of thing, but I’ve never much cared for it. I always feel like I’m being played for a fool.

I guess you could say the show is more flash than substance. I don’t think the production necessarily distracts from the story; in fact, it’s probably the one thing I really like about the show. A convoluted story in a generic package wouldn’t be any better than a convoluted story in a unique package. It’s a convoluted story, either way. However, my feeling that the production doesn’t distract from the story cuts both ways: it’s neither harmful nor helpful.

Of course, it’s not often we see this Shinbo style of surrealism paired with an actual story. And, yes, I know Shinbo isn’t directing this time around, but he’s involved in the production nonetheless, and it’s plainly obvious Director Oonuma Shin is aping his style. But if you look at shows directed by Shinbo in recent years - those directed in his now signature style - you’ll notice that they’re light on story and heavy on gags and vignettes. It’s appropriate material for that sort of direction, in my opinion.

But what about ef - a tale of memories? Well, it’s pretty clear that the story is steeped in surrealism all its own, so logic would dictate that Shinbo’s style of direction is a good fit. And I think I’d agree. So, I can’t to do the obvious and criticize the direction for being too weird for its own good. I can, however, criticize the story for being too weird for its own good.

And a little too dull for me, unfortunately.

After watching the first episode of Mokke a few weeks ago, I wrote, “The first episode didn’t necessarily grab me as much as I would’ve liked, but I think the show has a lot of potential.” Yet, despite my optimism, I proceeded to put the show out of sight and out of mind, almost to the point of forgetting about it entirely. This past weekend, however, I sat down and watched a few more episodes and discovered that my initial impression of the show was pretty much on the mark. In fact, I’d even go so far as to now label it one of my favorite shows of the season. I’m glad I gave it a fair chance.

When it comes to evaluating anime series, I’ve occasionally been accused of being a bit of a pollyanna in my assessment. I suppose it’s true, to a point; I consider myself an optimist and I have this annoying habit of being flexible and open-minded when presented with problems or new situations. It’s something I inherited from my father, I guess. He’s much the same way.

It’s also why I’m such a horrible anime reviewer. It’s not that I don’t view anime with a critical eye - otherwise, I’d be drowning in dreck - but, if the good in an anime series vastly outweighs the bad, I’m likely to describe it in glowing terms, ignoring even those flaws which clearly deserve mention. When your audience consists of a bunch of cynical anime fans, however, what do you do? Do you take the high road and stick to your guns? Or do you play to their desires and start dishing out the snark, poking at a show’s every imperfection, no matter how insignificant it may be? For me, it’s neither. I just said, “screw it,” and stopped writing reviews.

But impressions are another matter entirely. The nice thing about impressions is that they’re quite often snapshots of a moment in time. If I write, “I’m really enjoying Suki Suki Neko Rangers at the moment,” and leave it at that, I’m not committing to any particular opinion of the show as a whole. If the show goes down the drain five episodes later when its revealed that Neko Ranger Blue is, in fact, a descendant of God sent to rescue the Earth from an invasion of robotic Neko Ranger embryos from the past (boy, do I hate it when that happens), it doesn’t change the fact that I enjoyed Suki Suki Neko Rangers at some point in time. And, when it comes time to judge the show in its entirety, the fact that it went in a direction I didn’t care for doesn’t mean the time I spent watching it up to that point was all for naught. Bait and switch is such a common feature of anime storytelling that I’ve grown accustomed to taking things one episode at a time. There’s less disappointment that way.

With the start of every new anime season, however, first impressions abound. From the minute the first new show premieres in Japan, the race is on to see who can weigh in the fastest. There’s definitely some value in these first impressions; with something like fifty new shows premiering each season, how does an anime fan determine what to watch? Spend a half hour on each and every one? Of course not. We rely an awful lot on the impressions of others when building our watchlists for the season. Unfortunately, however, those impressions aren’t always very trustworthy.

Compare and contrast the following statements…

1. “The first episode of Suki Suki Neko Rangers was far from perfect, but I like the characters and the premise. The animation was actually pretty good for this sort of show. I don’t know how it’ll turn out, but I’ll give it a chance for the time being. This is kind of a weak season so far, so I’ll take what I can get.”

2. “Why was this show even made in the first place? The animation is nowhere near the quality of the Sad Kittens in Rain remake from last year. I know they’re different studios, but it doesn’t matter. Suki Suki Neko Rangers? More like Sucky Sucky Neko Rangers, amirite? Still, I might as well watch it… it’s better that all this other crap. Worst anime season ever.”

Now, if you were thinking of watching Suki Suki Neko Rangers and went looking for impressions of the first episode, which of the above would you find more valuable? Assuming you’re not this guy, most likely the first statement. However, spend enough time reading anime blogs or hanging out on anime discussion forums, and you’re likely to see a lot of the second statement.

Everyone’s different, of course, but I know I find such premature proclamations of value (or lack thereof) to be useless. Terribly misleading, too. Far too many times, I’ve seen a show turn itself around following a lackluster start. And too many times I’ve seen a show blow a spectacular start in only a few episodes time. This is typical for most forms of serial entertainment, I suppose, but it seems especially common in anime. The smaller the sample, the harder it is to make sense of the big picture.

So, when I wrote, “the show has a lot of potential,” in sharing my initial impression of Mokke, I was essentially saying, “I want to see the big picture.” And I think this insistence on focusing on the big picture has helped me maintain my interest in anime after all these years. I find I don’t have to deal with disappointment as often as I think I would had I focused too much on the little nits and flaws that plague even the best of shows. And I’ve stumbled upon a lot of pleasant surprises along the way.

To be honest, I can’t even remember the last time I finished watching a show, only to think, “Gee, that was a colossal waste of time.” Even if I’m wearing rose-colored glasses, I seem to be having lots of fun all the same.

And I’m OK with that.

As the end of the year draws closer, I’m thinking more and more about the upcoming Year in Review. In the past, I never much cared for doing such a thing, but last year’s was so well received that I feel compelled to do it once again. So, for months now, I’ve been building a mental list of my ten favorite new shows of the year, the contents of which have actually been a bit surprising. Of course, you’ll have to wait until December to see for yourself.

One notable thing about this year’s anime offerings, however, is the level playing field. There have been a number of good shows this year, yet very few stand out from the crowd. Even the shows on my list that I’ve gushed about aren’t necessarily any more special to me than those about which I haven’t. So, while populating the list has been an easy enough task, arranging the entries has not. And it’s far too early to determine which Autumn shows will make the cut (although, I do have an idea). I figure I’ll be re-arranging things up to the very last minute.

I do want to make an effort, however, to start writing my Year in Review posts as early as reasonably possible. Last year, I churned them out in real time from my temporary home in California between twelve hour workdays and holiday festivities. I wrote the final post of the series on my laptop at a New Year’s Eve party, getting it out the door only a few hours before the year ended. Obviously, I’d like to avoid such a mad rush this year, so I intend to start early. Even if I don’t know the final order of the list, I know certain shows are at least guaranteed a spot. No harm in preparing their posts beforehand.

Anime blogging is serious business.

I like to use anime images for desktop wallpaper on my computers at home. Big surprise, I know. Typically, I like to match the wallpaper to the season: cherry blossoms in Spring, swimsuits and festivals in Summer, and so on. There’s one season that always gives me trouble when searching for suitable images, however. And it just so happens to be my favorite season of the year, making it all the more frustrating.

Yes, it’s Autumn.

Sometimes, I wonder if the anime industry has something against Autumn. Perhaps there was a premium on orange and red paint back in the cel animation days? Who knows. All I do know is that Autumn rarely makes an appearance in anime, and when it does, it’s often for only a short period of time.

If you think about it, a fair number of anime series - especially those with a high school setting - begin their stories in Spring. It’s the season of new beginnings in Japan, and a lot of anime series kick their stories off just as the cherry blossoms are blooming and the new school year is getting underway. It can’t be Spring forever, however. Spring eventually gives way to Summer.

Swimsuits, festivals, vacations… Summer is another staple of the seasonal landscape in anime. Some short stories take place exclusively in Summer; “natsuyasumi” shows are perfect for telling stories about adolescent characters outside of a classroom setting, for example. Also, shows that begin their stories in Spring often morph into Summer in short time. It’s a season ripe with romance, fanservice potential, and general debauchery. It’s no wonder a lot of anime series spend their entire middle sections on the months of July and August. Gotta get the cute girls out of their school uniforms and into swimsuits, after all.

But it would be premature to end a story in Summer. A Summer romance is meant to be temporary. The protagonist in a bishoujo game adaptation, for example, must eventually leave the smorgasboard of swimsuits behind and come crawling back to the chosen girl. And, for the sake of the production budget, those classroom backgrounds should probably be put to use once again. So, back to school we go… except, we’re now 3/4 of the way through our episode run. Time to start thinking about wrapping things up.

Well, what better setting for a dramatic and romantic conclusion than Christmas Eve, right? The twinkling lights, the hand-knitted scarves, the falling snow (it always snows on Christmas Eve in Japan, after all)… time to blow the budget on particle effects and go out with a bang! See you again in the sequel!

One question, though… what the hell happened to Autumn?

I wouldn’t be writing this if it wasn’t true. Nine times out of ten, Autumn is completely passed over in anime series that have stories which, theoretically, should pass through the months of September, October, and November. And the number of shows that take place almost exclusively in Autumn can be counted on one hand; of what I’ve watched, only To Heart and Tenchi Muyo come immediately to mind. There are others, I’m sure, and there are a few shows that place extra emphasis on the season (the final season of Cardcaptor Sakura, for example, takes place in Autumn), but compared to Spring, Summer, and even Winter, Autumn just doesn’t get much respect in anime.

So, I suppose it’s no surprise that anime artwork with an Autumn theme is difficult to come by. And that’s why, every October, as I go searching for something new for my desktop, I return to the same few images I use every year. This year, I went with naked Mahoro and a takoyaki bandit…

Although, given how it looks outside my window at the moment, I should probably just break out the Kanon wallpaper. What the hell happened to Autumn, indeed.

Damn straight.

Show ‘em what you’re made of, Yunocchi!

UPDATE: Well, it was close, at least, with Yuno netting 47% of the vote. Not enough for a win, but a good showing nonetheless, going up against one of the contest’s favorites and all. Yuno fans fought the good fight to the very end.

I wonder… why does “angst” get such a bad rap among anime fans?

I suspect there are a number of factors at play here. For one, anime fans, in me experience, are more likely to be left brain sort of people. That is, logical and rational in their thinking. Hence, they’re more likely to be overly analytical in their understanding of the sort of emotional subject matter common in your typical dramatic anime series. I’m not saying they’re cold and heartless, by any means. Rather, I just don’t think your typical left brain anime fan connects with characters in drama series the way a more emotional right brain person might.

At the same time, I think the sort of myth-making that makes anime such an attractive diversion for fans gives rise to hero worship. And heroes don’t have problems. Well, not anime heroes, at least. Heroes in Greek mythology often have obvious flaws which they must overcome, but with the exception of the Gundam franchise and its copycats, anime heroes are more likely to be the heroes of our childhood: perfect and invincible. Clearly, there is no place for weakness in the story of a perfect hero. And there is no place for uncertainty in the world of the perfect hero. Black and white. Good and evil. Nothing in between. Of course, the real world doesn’t work that way, and a lot of dramatic anime reflects that fact. Even shounen fighting shows have trended toward presenting flawed and complicated protagonists. It’s probably lost on the kids at which those shows are targeted, but for adult anime fans nostalgic for the heroes of the their childhood, the trend is likely frustrating.

Another factor to consider is that of cultural differences. What anime fans in the West often label as “angst” in a show is, in many way, reasonably normal behavior in Japanese society. After all, we’re talking about a culture where things are more often left unsaid than said, and where frank and open expression of feeling and emotion is rare, if not discouraged. From a Western point of view, it may very well seem absurd for a character to stew over a seemingly minor problem alone, perhaps to the point of anguish. From the Japanese point of view, however, it can almost be considered expected behavior. This is a culture, for example, where’s its not entirely uncommon for a bullied and tormented high school student to throw himself off the roof of his school without ever having confided in a single soul. The same student being unable to express his love for the girl across the room, or being unable to decide what to do with his life after graduation, or whatever internal conflict common in “angsty” anime… well, it seems positively quaint compared to a leap from four stories up.

Yes, there are dramatic anime series that regularly crank the “angst” level up to eleven, so much that you can’t help but laugh in response. But not every drama series fits this mold, and not every troubled character or emotional story is an angst factory.

Sometimes, “angst” is just a reality check.