At a certain point in our lives, we are all told that we were lied to in many ways. Some of these untruths were the stepping-stones we had to surmount in order to grasp a greater understanding. The wool is pulled over the eyes of young chemistry students with concepts of earlier atomic models that fit on paper – only to later realize that there is so much more to the world. Don’t get me started on chirality and stereoisomers. Furthermore, some untruths were the pleasantries carried throughout the generations. The true spirit of life is not the destination but the journey. It is this last point that I wish to emphasize.
We far too often take for granted what our youth held. This is something unique to each of us: good, bad, and undecided. But something that undoubtedly united all of us was a naïve thirst for adventure. For many, the fire was lit with the debut of George Luca’s Star Wars. Born in ’93, I was enraptured with the higher output quality of Phantom Menace. My younger sister was romanticized with Lady Andromeda and would ride into battle with a Queen A bicycle. These days, even though I have grown and come to appreciate finer aspects than “which side would win”, that same thirst for adventure hasn’t faded in me.
At this point I have paused, for I could wrap it up and say, “the end”. But this is only the beginning of my story. As with my sister, the stories we have been told often linger in our minds longer than until the credits run. We develop our own understandings and carry them on with us. Those before me recognize the phrase “Han shot first” to be a cultural phenomenon because they experienced it first-hand. These punctualities resonate with us more the original story because we want him to shoot first. If George Lucas had arbitrated one way or another, it wouldn’t be the same.
This same “void” exists within me for anime. To answer what anime is would open a can of worms in the same way that “Han shot first” does. You don’t simply watch anime, you live it. Perhaps a better question to answer is “when is anime?”
In the onslaught of World War Two, Japanese animators envisioned their own answers to the barrage on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. These ideas were ingenious for their time, bringing forth that which would not only popularize the television screen, but hobby shops as well. I am of course talking about the strange and wonderful world of mechanized armor suits, each with their own backstories and toy models. The influence of “mecha” – as they are now known – would continue long after the fall of the world superpowers.
It didn’t end there, of course. Evangelion: Neon Genesis provoked the inner turmoil within us all, making it abundantly evident that heroes and heroines have their ups and downs as well. Too often in Marvel/DC movies do we ask for the newest “big bang” to surprise us, and – while there is nothing wrong with asking for a bit of action – we also have to pull the lines back and ask, “what are the heroes thinking?”
An excellent example of this deconstruction was The Incredibles. In this movie, the final showdown wasn’t ten stories tall, with buildings being smashed apart. It happened at home, with JackJack being seized by Syndrome, further placing an emphasis on the “family” unit. We didn’t get to this point by being flawless heroes whose only detriment was a green crystal from their home world.
Another example of this was Megamind, where the villain’s greatest Ace is nothing new. We actually start well ahead of the battle for justice, in a world without evil. It isn’t physicality, cunning, or even an elemental attribute that overpowers the hero, but the psychological tax of being that one person who controls everything. It’s a great peripeteia in which we lose our faith and trust in what we thought we knew. There is still a victory, but with a tremendous cost.
This reversal of fate is nothing out of the ordinary in anime. When Gen Urobuchi became involved in Puella Magi Madoka Magika, what do you think happened? If you went into this six hour magical girl series with the expectation of pink dresses and fluffy unicorns, you were damn disappointed, weren’t you? This show is, true to the Urobutcher name, dark and depressing with everything you could possibly wish for coming apart at the seams.
PMMM is fearfully articulate, taking the old biblical telling of Faust and the Devil to a new level. The supposed heroine, Kaname Madoka, knows right from wrong, truth from lies, justice from evil because these are the paramount of a healthy upbringing. Except, the world is nothing like that, is it?
Reverend's Respite 