Every so often, we come across a truly crafted work. A work in which the myriad aspects of its creation are delicately shaped to meet a purpose, to intertwine with each other in loving caress. The work becomes singular and precious in its own methodology; an aesthetic ideal can be observed in its very craft. Belonging to this sparse group is Sengoku Collection’s 18th episode, both a tragedy and triumph of human solidarity.
A glance at anime since summer of 2011 reveals a world of colour. A myriad of shows, all distinct by various facets of their creation, whether they be art style, synopsis, or even the people behind it. Given this great variety, it’s only natural that we’ve created systems of classification for them, understood as genres. However, often a show fails to fall under a single genre, instead possessing the signs of several. When you take a look at every show, two genres emerge as the most plentiful: romance and comedy. Something strikes us as odd. While the romantic drama or the sci-fi anime may have a continuous plot, it is exceedingly rare to rind a continuous plot in a comedy. Instead, anime comedies tend to be episodic in nature. Why is this?
Strange, wondrous things are possible with fiction. Aliens come and invade the Earth, but eventually succumb to human disease. A secondary moon appears in the sky and breaks a female assassin’s perception of reality. An old countryman deludes himself with fiction itself into thinking he’s a knight and even acts like one. The begotten prince of tyranny liberates his country and world from strife with the help of bipedal mobile armor suits that shoot colourful lasers and make things go boom, helped by a team of women and men whose hair colours span the visible spectrum. We’ve only scratched the surface of what’s possible. And that’s what we want.
So forgive me for saying that Sankarea’s concept (finally getting to my point here) isn’t anything extraordinary. It’s not as nonsensical as Tsuritama, nor is it as down-to-earth as Sakamichi no Apollon. It’s a story of a girl turned zombie. In fact, in light of all the currently circulating stories about undead beings, the premise comes off as rather ordinary. Yet, it’s one of my favourite shows this season. Why? To be straightforward, I like what I see.
WARNING: this post is ridiculously long and image-heavy.
To be honest, I didn’t have all that much to say about Pengidrum last week. Sure, there were things to say, but I didn’t feel any urgent need to express them, so I ended up not making a post. However, I’m pleased to say that with the fifth episode of Pengidrum, I have found quite a bit to say. I absolutely love how much Ikuhara is able to pack into a single episode.
I have to apologize for how late this is, as it’s a combination of both how long it took me to move all my stuff to my new apartment (well, really, my friend’s, since I’m moving out of the state next month) and a large-scale movie binge with my friends. I was thinking of releasing this article as a combination between episodes 2 and 3, but that ruins the fun of episode-by-episode discussion, and I already had half this written up by the day of this episode airing, so I figured that I might as well.
I think it goes without saying that PengiDrum is one of the most talked about shows of the 2011 summer anime season. I’m sure I’m missing a lot of bloggers’ insight on the show, as well as forum discussion as I’m rather limited in my scope for forums, but it seems that way.
It should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me that Mawaru Penguindrum has long been my most anticipated show of the 2011 Summer anime season. This is because the director behind Pengi, Kunihiko Ikuhara, is none other than the director for Revolutionary Girl Utena, one of my favourite shows of all time, and arguably one of the most influential anime to have ever been produced. And now that the first episode of this show has aired, I once again have the opportunity to take the foray into the incredible mind of Ikuhara.