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If you've been reading my blogs over the last few years, you know I'm a big fan of animation. I could go on for hours about Rick and Morty, Steven Universe and classic Warner Brothers cartoons. But there's one big (slightly inexplicable) gap in my cartoon databank: animé.
It's not that I don't like Japanese animation. I watched AstroBoy and Tobor (the 8th Man) when I was a kid. I saw Akira in the theaters back in 1992 and Paprika is still one of the great mindf***s of the past 25 years.
And I love Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli.
Here's the thing, though: Miyazaki doesn't fit my definition of "animé." His movies explore man's relationship with the natural world. Even though there's plenty of action, the emphasis is on character evolution. There are no tournaments or "levels" to conquer; you have to learn to hear the whisper of the trees.
"Well, that's a very narrow definition," I hear the animé enthusiasts say. "There's plenty of great manga-inspired toons out there that don't involve collecting billions of marketable goblins. Why not give one a shot?"
My thoughts exactly.
Every late Saturday night, Cartoon Network broadcasts their "Toonami" block, four hours of animé for the hardcore fan. A while back, my son and I tried a few episodes of One Punch Man, because I always appreciate a good superhero parody. Couldn't get into it. The jokes weren't funny enough, the satire wasn't sharp enough, and the weirdness just kinda... sat there on my brain without making much of an impression.
With One Punch deleted from my DVR, my cross-cultural experiment lay dormant... until Christmas Eve, when Toonami offered up a perfect binge watch for beginners: the first 11 episodes of Shinichiro Watanabe's classic, Cowboy Bebop.
The first thing that hits you about Cowboy Bebop is the opening theme music: Yoko Kanno's "Tank" is like a shot of adrenaline right into your chest, a bass- and brass-heavy jazz instrumental that would have fit right in with a 1960s spy thriller. What's odd is that espionage is one of the few subgenres that Cowboy Bebop doesn't delve into. But that doesn't matter: the music is absolutely appropriate because it's COOL. And Cowboy Bebop is all about looking and being cool (even if your life has fallen apart around you).
What I find appealing about the overall aesthetic of Cowboy Bebop is that the story is in no hurry to go anywhere. Watanabe emphasizes mood and character, and for the most part, the plots aren't especially elaborate. There are plenty of scenes of the crew just hanging out on the ship, killing time--as if a standard action thriller had just ended and the characters are wondering what to do next.
Which is, of course, the point.
Because in a real sense, on both the micro and macro levels, we come into the series after the big events are over. Earth is a ruin, and the people have (imperfectly) terraformed the solar system or built makeshift colonies on asteroids. Everything seems to be run by corrupt politicians or criminal gangs and terrorists. Freelance bounty hunters (or "cowboys") are brought in to help maintain order. Man has survived, but nobody really seems to be living.
Same goes for our heroes. Spike Spiegel, our supercool zen martial arts master, was a key member of a major criminal syndicate, until he tried to get out with the woman he loved. The Red Dragons left him for dead, and bounty hunting on the Bebop is a kind of purgatory as he tries to figure out what to do with (what's left of) his life. (It's fitting that the last day of his life with the Dragons is very first scene of the series.)
Similarly, Jet's every word and movement scream "cop"--but he can't go back to the force. And the two females onboard have been cut off from their pasts--Faye, by a quirk of cryonic sleep, and Edward, because living in the internet has jumbled her poor nine year-old brain.
The series revisits these events on occasion, like echoes from a big bang, always asking the same question: how do you carry on after you've lost everything?
If that question (and the whole series premise) sounds familiar, it should: Joss Whedon "borrowed" a good chunk of it for Firefly. But in terms of genre fusion--melding space opera, noir and western--I think Bebop works better. I always thought Whedon leaned a little too heavily on the western influence, and it jarred with the rest of the material. Watanabe integrates the genre more smoothly (and it helps that the "Big Shots" bounty hunter video channel is funny every time you see it).
But one area where Firefly tops Bebop is use of ensemble. All of Bebop's characters are great, but a lot of them sit out the action for weeks on end. Faye Valentine is literally reduced to cleavage shots in some episodes, and even a horny male nerd would find the mistreatment of the female lead a bit insulting. The overemphasis on Spike as main action guy also deprives us of that great team dynamic. (When Faye and Spike take down the terrorists at the start of "Waltz for Venus", you're almost startled by how kickass they can be when everybody is on the same page.)
[Favorite characters: Faye and Ein. Faye could so easily be a femme fatale caricature, but she avoids it by refusing to play by anyone's rules but her own, even if it's self-destructive. I think it also helps that Spike and Jet don't buy into her bullshit, and see her as she really is: a highly capable, but damaged young woman--and something of an irritant. My wife loves Faye, too. She says--tongue slightly in cheek--that she identifies with Faye's sense of privilege that comes with being a hot babe.
As for Ein--aw, he's so cute! I love Welsh Corgis! And he's the only member of the crew who's got his act together, even if nobody else realizes it.]
I'm up to Episode 16. Don't worry about spoiling me, I know how it ends; I just want to sit back and enjoy the rest of the ride. I know there's great things coming.
**************
Any recommendations? I'm going to try Outlaw Star, because I hear it's the other half of Firefly's animé DNA. Ghost in the Shell? Is 2.0 good, or should I hold out for the original?
It's not that I don't like Japanese animation. I watched AstroBoy and Tobor (the 8th Man) when I was a kid. I saw Akira in the theaters back in 1992 and Paprika is still one of the great mindf***s of the past 25 years.
And I love Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli.
Here's the thing, though: Miyazaki doesn't fit my definition of "animé." His movies explore man's relationship with the natural world. Even though there's plenty of action, the emphasis is on character evolution. There are no tournaments or "levels" to conquer; you have to learn to hear the whisper of the trees.
"Well, that's a very narrow definition," I hear the animé enthusiasts say. "There's plenty of great manga-inspired toons out there that don't involve collecting billions of marketable goblins. Why not give one a shot?"
My thoughts exactly.
Every late Saturday night, Cartoon Network broadcasts their "Toonami" block, four hours of animé for the hardcore fan. A while back, my son and I tried a few episodes of One Punch Man, because I always appreciate a good superhero parody. Couldn't get into it. The jokes weren't funny enough, the satire wasn't sharp enough, and the weirdness just kinda... sat there on my brain without making much of an impression.
With One Punch deleted from my DVR, my cross-cultural experiment lay dormant... until Christmas Eve, when Toonami offered up a perfect binge watch for beginners: the first 11 episodes of Shinichiro Watanabe's classic, Cowboy Bebop.
The first thing that hits you about Cowboy Bebop is the opening theme music: Yoko Kanno's "Tank" is like a shot of adrenaline right into your chest, a bass- and brass-heavy jazz instrumental that would have fit right in with a 1960s spy thriller. What's odd is that espionage is one of the few subgenres that Cowboy Bebop doesn't delve into. But that doesn't matter: the music is absolutely appropriate because it's COOL. And Cowboy Bebop is all about looking and being cool (even if your life has fallen apart around you).
What I find appealing about the overall aesthetic of Cowboy Bebop is that the story is in no hurry to go anywhere. Watanabe emphasizes mood and character, and for the most part, the plots aren't especially elaborate. There are plenty of scenes of the crew just hanging out on the ship, killing time--as if a standard action thriller had just ended and the characters are wondering what to do next.
Which is, of course, the point.
Because in a real sense, on both the micro and macro levels, we come into the series after the big events are over. Earth is a ruin, and the people have (imperfectly) terraformed the solar system or built makeshift colonies on asteroids. Everything seems to be run by corrupt politicians or criminal gangs and terrorists. Freelance bounty hunters (or "cowboys") are brought in to help maintain order. Man has survived, but nobody really seems to be living.
Same goes for our heroes. Spike Spiegel, our supercool zen martial arts master, was a key member of a major criminal syndicate, until he tried to get out with the woman he loved. The Red Dragons left him for dead, and bounty hunting on the Bebop is a kind of purgatory as he tries to figure out what to do with (what's left of) his life. (It's fitting that the last day of his life with the Dragons is very first scene of the series.)
Similarly, Jet's every word and movement scream "cop"--but he can't go back to the force. And the two females onboard have been cut off from their pasts--Faye, by a quirk of cryonic sleep, and Edward, because living in the internet has jumbled her poor nine year-old brain.
The series revisits these events on occasion, like echoes from a big bang, always asking the same question: how do you carry on after you've lost everything?
If that question (and the whole series premise) sounds familiar, it should: Joss Whedon "borrowed" a good chunk of it for Firefly. But in terms of genre fusion--melding space opera, noir and western--I think Bebop works better. I always thought Whedon leaned a little too heavily on the western influence, and it jarred with the rest of the material. Watanabe integrates the genre more smoothly (and it helps that the "Big Shots" bounty hunter video channel is funny every time you see it).
But one area where Firefly tops Bebop is use of ensemble. All of Bebop's characters are great, but a lot of them sit out the action for weeks on end. Faye Valentine is literally reduced to cleavage shots in some episodes, and even a horny male nerd would find the mistreatment of the female lead a bit insulting. The overemphasis on Spike as main action guy also deprives us of that great team dynamic. (When Faye and Spike take down the terrorists at the start of "Waltz for Venus", you're almost startled by how kickass they can be when everybody is on the same page.)
[Favorite characters: Faye and Ein. Faye could so easily be a femme fatale caricature, but she avoids it by refusing to play by anyone's rules but her own, even if it's self-destructive. I think it also helps that Spike and Jet don't buy into her bullshit, and see her as she really is: a highly capable, but damaged young woman--and something of an irritant. My wife loves Faye, too. She says--tongue slightly in cheek--that she identifies with Faye's sense of privilege that comes with being a hot babe.
As for Ein--aw, he's so cute! I love Welsh Corgis! And he's the only member of the crew who's got his act together, even if nobody else realizes it.]
I'm up to Episode 16. Don't worry about spoiling me, I know how it ends; I just want to sit back and enjoy the rest of the ride. I know there's great things coming.
**************
Any recommendations? I'm going to try Outlaw Star, because I hear it's the other half of Firefly's animé DNA. Ghost in the Shell? Is 2.0 good, or should I hold out for the original?
