Fall 2010 - Invasion! Squid Girl

Not every tale from the sea is a Hans Christian Andersen romance. Not every struggle between man and fabled sea creature is meant to be labeled as a saga. Most of all, not every creature from the sea that seeks vengeance against humanity for its crimes against nature has the capability to succeed with its invasion.

Then again, has there been an invader so deceptively cute in its ineffectiveness? ("Puchuu! Puchuu!" - Ed.)

Herein lies the conundrum for the titular character in Invasion! Squid Girl (Shinryaku! Ika-Musume), a story animated from the mind of mangaka Masahiro Anbe. Sometimes humanity just doesn't take the invasion seriously enough, but when you're a dojikko from the deep, the deck is already stacked against you.

Currently running on Crunchyroll as Squid Girl, this new show animated by Diomedea (Bokurano) features the episodic adventures of a half-girl, half-squid who has come to the surface to teach humanity a thing or two about abusing their control of the sea. However, despite being able to control her tentacle-like hair for combat, Squid Girl isn't exactly prepared for the fight—her cute appearance makes her status as an invader hard to take seriously, especially when she appears at the seaside restaurant "Lemon" and is mistaken for the part-time help.

While the shop's owners Eiko and Chizuru figure Squid Girl to be just a kid in costume, the resulting dismissal brings about her clumsiness, as her demonstration of her power results in damage to the restaurant. Unable to develop a spine to stand up to the proprietors (cephalopods are natural invertebrates, after all), Squid Girl finds herself having to work off the repair bill for the humans she was supposed to conquer and learns that humanity is a little stronger (and stranger) than she thought.

Considering the direction is done by Tsutomu Mizushima (Bludgeoning Angel Dokuro-Chan, Hare + Guu), I was expecting the comedy to be off-the-wall and perhaps a little invasive towards fourth-wall humor, but the production of Squid Girl is done in such a reserved manner that the lighter comedy fits it admirably. The situations involving Squid Girl's slow understanding of society are paced well with her cluelessness being the key comic device. More importantly, the art's smooth design and simplicity meshes well with the comedy, so even the predictable comes out feeling comfortable.

If there is one debatable thing that comes to mind after watching Squid Girl through Crunchyroll, it's the uncertain translations of the script. Squid Girl uses the suffix de geso (geso means "tentacle") in place of the Japanese copula desu, so her lines are occasionally written to reflect the "squid" in the meaning. At times, the translation can be adorable ("Wait a squidly minute!"), but sometimes it can come across as forced and unnecessary:

The translation isn't terrible, but it's not exactly easy to digest, and you may come across purists who may find this translation as extraneous (or not going far enough de geso!)

It may look too simple to result in an enjoyable show, but perhaps the best thing Squid Girl has going for it is the feel of a sit-com. Squid Girl is painfully oblivious to some surroundings, only to be overreactive to others, and that common formula makes for some enjoyable entertainment. The episodes are short, succinct, and silly, but not to the point of disbelief. We're not saying that the humor will get old any time soon or that the show will turn into a cheesy version of Alf, but for now it works rather well.

For what it's worth, there was a need for a slower-paced anime comedy this season, especially with the speed and the magnitude of the lechery we've seen in some of the other shows. Squid Girl is calm yet humorous with its serene location and oddball characters, and I for one welcome our new squid-vaders.

Fall 2010: MM!

There is something to be said about the lack of psychoanalysis in anime. With all the screams of "Hentai!" and slaps that knock falsely-accused would-be perverts into the next prefecture, you'd think there would be just as many psychiatrist visits as there were hospital visits. There are so many personality flaws and oddities in anime that Sigmund Freud would have to cancel all of his appointments for the rest of his life if he were working today.

If all of those mental cases were thrown into a padded room, the interactions might result in the sort of anime MM! has become. The goal isn't necessarily to cure each of their mental phobias and philias—it's more like watching different sorts of fish sharing the same aquarium—but if the basket cases manage to stumble upon a remedy, it's a bonus.

This show from Xebec (Ladies vs. Butlers, Kanokon, To-Love-Ru) really runs the gamut on the different twists one could make to a destroy a relationship. The general gist is that Tarô Sado is a masochist, to the point of being able to take the brunt of any female's attack and find pleasure from it. This was triggered from his classmate Arashiko's extreme fear of boys (and her right fist), which was in itself triggered by violence from a past boyfriend. With these dominoes so easily upset, Tarô is endlessly tubthumped (you're never gonna keep him down!)

Enter the head of the high school's "Second Volunteer Club", Mio Isurugi. Although she first appears angelic to Tarô, serving as a means to cure him of his problem, her superiority complex and sadistic measures just makes matters worse. Throw in a crossdressing guy with an ojôsama split personality, an obsessive-compulsive girl, a school nurse that has a thing for subterfuge over others, and Tarô's over-doting sister and mother, and you have yourself the makings of a real asylum, padded cell and all.

Since many of the characters seem to suffer from divergences in their personalities, it should be no surprise that MM! itself suffers from its own Dissociative Identity Disorder. The show does have some touching moments in it between Tarô and the other Second Volunteer Club members, and the plot is surprisingly free of any seriously awkward sexual situations. That being said, the processes used to help the members drive away their neuroses are hardly conventional and seem to bring about more pain and suffering than if the characters were to drop cash for a professional psychologist.

Additionally, there just seems to be no love for Tarô in this series. When he's not being the club's masochistic dog, he's a wishy-washy character that looks perfectly fine in front of girls. The only reason he's taking all of this punishment from Mio's God complex and Arashiko's androphobia is so he can receive psychotherapy from the club. I'm no brain surgeon, but my suggestion would be for Tarô to get over himself and leave the freaking club. So you're getting hit over and over again by a tsundere and a meek girl—do you know how many fans would kill to be in that position?

If anything, MM! is a Pavlovian experiment in itself—after seasons of priming fans with bossy characters, showing them Mio likely will trigger automated responses of moe, even though tsundere fans would rather have another season of Haruhi. Realistically speaking, the reactions to the characters may be the only thing the show has going for it, as there doesn't seem to be any pressure to solve the mental problems of the Second Volunteer Club. It won't matter if Tarô gets well in the end—he'll still have a girlfriend who both loves and hates him.

Unless you're a masochist like Tarô and appreciate the pain without reward, perhaps it's time to stop pushing the button.

Fall 2010 - Sora no Otoshimono: Forte

One has to wonder about the psychology of those people working in the anime and manga industries. What makes a mangaka choose a particular style when creating characters and a particular route when introducing them into the story? What is the reasoning behind a director's particular approach towards camera angles or character voices?

For the longest time, I have wanted to believe that it all involves an artist's desire for expression and an animation company's desire to make a profit in entertaining the fans. After watching Sora no Otoshimono: Forte ("Heaven's Lost Property: Forte"), I'm no longer sure what the motivation is. It's likely all monetary, but I have a feeling some other reason is lurking under the surface.

The series, currently running on Crunchyroll, revolves around the presence of a black hole in the skies over the quiet town of Sorami. The hole is actually a sort of connector to "Synapse", a world of angel-like constructs called "Angeloids". In particular, two have fallen to Earth and have been bound to a "Master"--Ikaros, a passive and emotionless Angeloid with destructive capabilities, and Nymph, an under-developed prototype with a deep knowledge of electronics. Of course, much like many modern anime androids, these Angeloids inexplicably flock to Tomoki Sakurai, the biggest high-school horndog since the likes of Ataru Moroboshi.

In the last season, Tomoki had come under fire from the likes of the more evil presenses in Synapse, but the return to a peaceful life has left some questions unanswered. Just what lies in Synapse, and will classmate Eishiro look to expose the meaning behind its arrival? Will Tomoki's childhood friend Sohara admit to the feelings she has for him, despite all of the attention the Angeloids give him? Just who is this new Angeloid model who seeks to kill Tomoki, only to fail miserably? And will we ever see a show where Tomoki doesn't experience a cartoonish erection from seeing T&A?

Sora no Otoshimono: Forte is still animated through AIC, who have concretely established themselves as the studio to go to when you need cheesecake (Mayoi Neko Overrun!, Strike Witches, Asobi ni Ikuyo). There does seem to be some sort of plot in the sequel, but you'd be hard-pressed to find it amongst all of the suggestive poses, bosom bounces from buxom bodies, and perverted nonsense. Due to the nature of the Angeloids to be able to make the impossible possible for Tomoki, there's nothing absurd about adventures through dreams, an Angeloid being sexually abused through "Tomoki's Six Paths of Hell," and a parade of erotic magazines in the street.

This show seems content with testing sexual taboos on Japanese television and completely ignoring any attempt to bring value to itself. Instead of exploring the unknown and figuring out how to neutralize the threat of Synapse, the characters are merely thrown into hijinks for 20 minutes before a sliver of dramatic tension can emerge. The art isn't particularly great, and the performances by the Japanese voice actors are actually disappointing, perhaps even grating. It's as if the show was competing against other shows for fandom's sexual energy. (More on that later; To-Love-Ru got a sequel! - Ed.)

All of the bath scenes, bloody noses, and conversations between Tomoki and his crotch have drawn me to the following conclusion--some fans (and perhaps some writers?) must be inadequately ashamed of their sexuality if these sorts of shows continue to appeal to them. I'm not saying that Sora no Otoshimono: Forte may eventually return with a serious storyline, but how many of these filler fan-service episodes will it take? If I've got to wade through faux hentai to get to the nugget of the story, then it's just not worth hunting for gold.