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My Week in Manga: March 6-March 12, 2017

March 13, 2017 by Ash Brown

My News and Reviews

Every month I post a Bookshelf Overload feature which takes a quick look at some of the manga and other media that make their way onto my shelves at home. And so last week I published February’s Bookshelf Overload. As I mentioned in that post, I’m currently working on an in-depth review of Kazuto Tatsuta’s Ichi-F: A Worker’s Graphic Memoir of the Fukushima Nuclear Power Plant. I expect that it should be ready to post later this week (that’s my intention anyway), but I’m also incredibly busy right now getting ready to change jobs. Taiko performance season is also steadily ramping up, and the Lion Dance troupe is still getting regular performance requests, so I’ve had a bunch of extra rehearsals and less downtime in general, too. Still, the writing is slowly but surely happening!

Despite being so busy and not being online as much as usual, I did come across a few interesting reads last week. Jennifer Robertson (who I’ve actually briefly met before) recently wrote for Salon about Japan’s long history of blurred sexualities and gender-bending. Brian Hibbs takes his annual look at the BookScan numbers for comics and graphic novels for The Beat. The analysis includes a section specifically devoted to the manga being released in English. Finally, in what I think is terrific news, more of Yen Press’ digital-only titles will now be getting print editions, too! Look out later this year for Homura Kawamoto and Toru Naomura’s Kakegurui: Compulsive Gambler, Higasa Akai’s The Royal Tutor, and Sakurako Gokurakuin’s Sekirei. Finally, a Kickstarter campaign was launched to publish anime director Yasuhiro Irie’s manga Halloween Pajama in English.

Quick Takes

The Ghost in the Shell, Volume 1 by Masamune Shirow. It’s been a long time since I’ve read Shirow’s The Ghost in the Shell. The series was actually among one of the first manga that I encountered. My introduction to the franchise was through Mamorou Oshii’s animated film Ghost in the Shell which probably remains my favorite interpretation of the story and characters. I actually often find the manga to be very difficult to follow. Shirow has some great, thought-provoking and intriguing ideas, but the flow of the story can be extremely disjointed at times. A live-action American Ghost in the Shell film will soon be hitting theaters, so it makes sense that Kodansha Comics would take advantage of the opportunity to re-release the original The Ghost in the Shell manga in a beautifully-produced deluxe hardcover edition. This “definitive” version is being presented in right-to-left format with Japanese sound effects for the first time. I’m fairly certain there are more color pages included, too, but the volume does lack some of the additional textual content found in previous English editions. The controversial lesbian sex scene has also been excluded at the creator’s request which does cause some slight narrative confusion.

Monthly Girls’ Nozaki-kun, Volumes 5-6 by Izumi Tsubaki. I love Monthly Girls’ Nozaki-kun so incredibly much. This series, along with My Love Story!!, is something that I can always count on to make me happy. I find myself constantly smiling while reading Monthly Girls’ Nozaki-kun and on more than one occasion have even caught myself laughing out loud. At this point the manga series is far enough along that almost all of the content is new to me. (My introduction to Monthly Girls’ Nozaki-kun was through the anime adaptation which is likewise an absolutely wonderful series.) There are new scenarios and even new characters–Nozaki’s younger brother and his judo teammates have become more prominent as one example–but those that were previously established are never forgotten. The good-natured humor in Monthly Girls’ Nozaki-kun remains consistent throughout the manga. Most of the hilarity is the result of the fact that none of the characters quite manage to be on the same page as any of the others and the ridiculousness that ensues because of it. The quirky characters themselves are incredibly endearing, too, even if they’re not particularly nuanced.

Ten Count, Volume 2-3 by Rihito Takarai. Well now, that escalated quickly. From the very first volume Ten Count presented itself as a dark psychological drama, but if anything its intensity only increases as the series progresses. The relationship between Shirotani and Kurose is an incredibly unhealthy one which only becomes more troubling as sexual elements are introduced to it. Kurose, whether or not he realizes it or intends to be, is abusive, manipulative, and controlling. He pushes Shirotani, often without consent or consideration, to his limits and beyond. Shirotani does have some personal breakthroughs but heartbreaking glimpses into his past and into his current emotional and mental states reveal a man who is conflicted and struggling with his own self-worth. Frankly, I find Ten Count to be disturbing and unsettling, verging on psychological horror rather than romance. At this point I can’t really envision things turning out well. (Honestly, I’d probably feel disappointed or even somewhat betrayed if Takarai manages some sort of romanticized happy ending.) To me Ten Count is still immensely engrossing, but I certainly can’t blame anyone who would want to avoid the series.

Dragnet Girl by Yasujiro Ozu. I recently had the opportunity to see Ozu’s silent film Dragnet Girl in a theater narrated by a professional benshi and accompanied by music cued by a prominent local DJ. There was even a brief lecture beforehand which I wasn’t expecting but found interesting. I enjoyed the production as a whole immensely–it was one of those once-in-a-lifetime events–but I also specifically enjoyed the film itself. (I really ought to seek out more of Ozu’s work.) Dragnet Girl is a gangster film which largely follows Tokiko and her boyfriend Joji, a retired boxing champion and current small-time crime boss. Hiroshi, a promising young hoodlum, joins the boxing gym and their gang. His older sister Kazuko worries about him and so tries to convince Joji to make her brother leave. Some romantic entanglements and turmoil ensue, but eventually Tokiko and Joji decide to leave their life of crime together but only after they pull off one last heist for the sake of Kazuko. Dragnet Girl is available from Criterion, collected together with two more of Ozu’s silent crime films, Walk Cheerfully and That Night’s Wife. It won’t quite be the same as watching it “live,” but it’s wonderful that there’s a home release readily available at all.

My Week in Manga: September 5-September 11, 2016

September 12, 2016 by Ash Brown

My News and Reviews

Last week was a relatively quiet week at Experiments in Manga (granted, that’s true of most weeks these days), but the winner of to Tokyo Ghoul giveaway was announced. The post also includes a list of some of the manga available in English which feature half-humans of one type or another. Elsewhere online, there were plenty of interesting things posted: Massive and gay manga were featured at Edge Media Network, and it sounds like we should be seeing more of Jiraya’s work in English later this fall; Alice Nicolov wrote an article on queer representation in manga for Dazed and Confused Magazine; Nami Sato, the creator of Haven’t You Heard? I’m Sakamoto was interviewed for the first time in either English or Japanese; and Publishing Perspectives posted some of the highlights of a conversation with Allison Markin Powell and Hiromi Kawakami about Japanese literature translation. Also, the Kickstarter project for Power & Magic, a queer fantasy comics anthology about witches of color (which looks like it should be fantastic), was recently launched.

Quick Takes

Attack on Titan: Before the Fall, Volume 8 written by Ryo Suzukaze and illustrated by Satoshi Shiki. It’s been a while since I’ve read Suzukaze’s Before the Fall light novels so I may be misremembering, but the novel adaptation seems to include characters and storylines not found in the original. It also expands on some of worldbuilding and characterizations of the franchise as a whole, so readers interested in the most comprehensive Attack on Titan experience will want to read the manga even if they’ve already read Suzukaze’s novels. Sharle, while still managing to come across as a stereotypical maiden in distress at times, is a more well-rounded and independent character in the manga. Her brother plays a more prominent and slightly more sympathetic role as well although he’s still one of the main human antagonists (and an ass). The Titans actually don’t even make an appearance in this volume and are barely mentioned as the manga focuses on the conflict and intrigue among the military, political, and religious factions. Overall, it’s an exciting volume with some interesting twists. Unfortunately it suffers some from Shiki prioritizing cool-looking panels and scenes over continuity and logical plot developments. (I’m sorry, if someone is going to daringly scale a wall to sneak into a city, they really shouldn’t be attempting the maneuver above the few guards that are present unless there’s a good reason for it.)

Devil Survivor, Volume 6 by Satoru Matsuba. I wasn’t especially enamored with the first volume of Devil Survivor and so haven’t really been following the manga very closely. However, the series had potential, and I’m glad to see that the sixth volume delivers on that promise. The Devil Survivor manga is based on a video game in the Shin Megami Tensei franchise, one of many adaptations from the megaseries to have recently been translated in English. Probably my biggest criticism of the first volume of Devil Survivor was that it read too much like a video game and not enough like a manga. If the sixth volume is anything to judge by, the series has greatly improved in that regard. While the video game elements are still readily clear, the manga seems to be focusing more on plot and characters. I actually really like the underlying story and find some of the characters to be interesting as well. The artwork is serviceable, understandably keeping close to the designs of the video games, but the way Matsuda draws the more well-endowed women can be a bit awkward to say the least. Many of the demons invading Tokyo look pretty good, though. The sixth volume is a turning point in the story as the series enters its final arc. Important revelations are made, a major boss battle is fought, and already dangerous situations become even more dangerous as the characters prepare to do all that they can to survive and save Tokyo from destruction.

The Osamu Tezuka Story: A Life in Manga and Anime by Toshio Ban. While I certainly understand why Stone Bridge Press chose to release the entirety of The Osamu Tezuka Story in a single volume, the book is huge, amounting to over nine hundred pages of material. Most of the volume consists of Ban’s manga, but it also includes an excellent introduction by the translator (and friend of Tezuka) Frederick L. Schodt and one of the most exhaustive lists of Tezuka’s work that I’ve seen in one place. I’ve read my fair share of works examining the life and career of Tezuka so I wasn’t especially surprised by anything in the manga, but The Osamu Tezuka Story provides one of the most comprehensive, engaging, and accessible biographies. The manga, which is largely chronological, is divided into three parts which delve into Tezuka’s childhood, his entry into manga, and the expansion of his career into anime. Commissioned following Tezuka’s death in 1989, the biography incorporates many of Tezuka’s own words taken from his essays and earlier interviews. Ban, who was one of Tezuka’s sub-chiefs in the manga department, adopts an illustration style very similar to that of Tezuka and excerpts from some of Tezuka’s manga and anime are also used. The Osamu Tezuka Story reveals just how remarkable and influential a creator Tezuka was and is highly recommended for anyone interested in the history of Japan’s manga and anime industries.

Our Little Sister directed by Hirokazu Kore-eda. I’m not sure when (or if) Our Little Sister will receive a home video release, but I recently had the opportunity to see the film in a theater. Our Little Sister is actually a live-action adaptation of Umimachi Diary (the title more literally translates to “Seaside Town Diary”), an award-winning ongoing manga series by Akimi Yoshida who some will likely recognize as the creator of Banana Fish. I’ve seen one other film by Kore-eda (Like Father, Like Son) which is similar in both theme and tone to Our Little Sister. Both films, despite intense interpersonal drama, are fairly quiet and gentle without becoming saccharine and focus on the complexities of familial relationships. In the case of Our Little Sister, the story primarily follows three sisters whose father left their mother for another woman more than fifteen years ago and whose mother largely left them behind to be raised by their grandmother. After their father dies they meet their half-sister, the daughter of his second wife (out of three), for the first time while at the funeral. For a variety of reasons, they invite her to live with them. While this does cause some raised eyebrows and strain in the family, both immediate and extended, the decision is ultimately a healing one as all four sisters grow closer as they pull together their fragmented lives. Our Little Sister is simply a lovely film. (And I’d certainly be interested in reading the original manga, too!)

Adaptation Adventures: Mushishi

July 14, 2016 by Ash Brown

After revisiting and reviewing each volume of Yuki Urushibara’s Mushishi for my horror manga review project, by now it’s probably readily clear that I greatly enjoy the series. I love the influence of traditional Japanese folklore on the stories. I love the manga’s subtle creepinesss. I love the exploration of the relationship between humans and the rest of nature. I love how the series delves into the connections that exist between people. I love the importance placed on the search for knowledge. The storytelling in Mushishi is atmospheric, beautiful, and frequently unsettling as individuals struggle with themselves and with the unknown. There is darkness and tragedy in Mushishi but there is also hope—one of the major themes in the manga is that for better or for worse, life will ultimately persevere.

Mushishi is a largely episodic series following Ginko, a mushishi, who travels the Japanese countryside studying mushi and trying to help people who have fallen under their influence. Mushi are described as creatures which are very close to the original form of life. Their presence is fundamental and necessary to the living world, but depending on the circumstances they may either be beneficial to or negatively impact humans. Mushi are frequently at the heart of unusual natural phenomenon or may cause otherwise unexplainable illnesses. Within the context of the series mushi can be taken literally, but they can also be read as metaphors for many conditions experienced in reality.

Urushibara’s ten-volume Mushishi, originally serialized in Japan between 1999 and 2008, was first released in print in English by Del Rey Manga between 2007 and 2010. Soon after, Del Rey’s manga imprint was closed and Mushishi subsequently went out of print. Unsurprisingly, the print edition of Mushishi has become increasingly difficult to find over time, but in 2014 Kodansha Comics released the entire series digitally. In addition to earning multiple awards and honors over the course of its publication, Mushishi was also the basis for multiple anime adaptations and a live-action film (most of which are available digitally if not physically in North America), as well as a variety of other media.

The first Mushishi anime series, directed by Hiroshi Nagahama, aired in Japan in 2005 and 2006. At twenty-six episodes, it only adapted a portion of the original manga. (Granted, the manga hadn’t yet been completed at that point.) Since I love the Mushishi manga, it probably doesn’t come as much of a surprise that I love the anime as well. Although the first Mushishi anime adaptation isn’t necessarily my favorite series, or even the anime that means the most to me personally, it is the series that I’ve seen the most number of times; I return to it frequently. Eventually, nearly a decade after the first Mushishi anime series, an animated television special was released which was followed a few months later by a second anime series. This twenty-episode series, also directed Nagahama, aired in Japan between 2014 and 2015 and adapted most of the remaining stories found in the manga. (A second animated television special was released during this time as well.) Despite the number of years that passed between the first and the second anime series, they are both very similar in tone and style. Nagahama also directed the Mushishi animated film released in 2015 which adapted the manga’s final story arc. Since I loved both the original manga and the first anime series, I was very happy to see so much more Mushishi anime produced.

The various Mushishi anime are very faithful adaptations of the manga. Frequently the scenes in the anime follow the scenes in the manga frame by frame and panel by panel, though occasionally the order that events appear in the narrative is slightly altered. Where the anime distinguish themselves is in their color and sound, especially in the establishment of the backgrounds and settings. Urushibara’s color artwork is lovely, but except for the covers of the individual manga volumes, very few examples of it officially appeared in North America. (I imported Urushibara’s 2015 Mushishi artbook which is filled with color illustrations and I adore it.) The anime bring the world of Mushishi to life. While the actual animation can at times be fairly simple and limited, the environments are always absolutely gorgeous and beautiful in their detail. The sound design in the anime adaptations is great, too, adding spectacularly to the overall atmosphere. The music by Toshio Masuda (which I’m constantly listening to) makes extensive use of bells, chimes, and other percussion along with unobtrusive synthesized and acoustic instruments, creating a beautiful soundtrack that is in turns ethereal and dramatic. Much like the original, the Mushishi anime creates an experience that can be calming and soothing as well as unsettling and disturbing.

Urushibara’s manga series was also the inspiration for Katsuhiro Otomo’s award-winning 2006 live-action film Mushishi. For the most part the film was received very well both inside and outside of Japan. Though overall it’s palette tends to be darker and more subdued than the anime adaptations, the visuals can be quite stunning; the special effects hold up surprisingly well even a decade after it was first released. I actually only very recently watched Otomo’s Mushishi for the first time. From the standpoint of someone who is very familiar with the original manga and its anime adaptations, the live-action movie is somewhat disorienting and perhaps even shocking. Though it begins much as one would expect, it ultimately deviates a fair amount from its source material even to the point of changing some of the underpinning mythologies and characterizations of the original. It’s clear that Urushibara’s manga provides the basis for the movie, but many details have been reimagined or remixed in some way. The narrative is still interesting, though. Otomo successfully weaves together several stories from the manga series and makes references to many others before taking the film in an entirely new and different direction. While the original Mushishi tends to be episodic, Otomo’s film is self-contained and provides a single cohesive story. In part this is accomplished placing a significant focus on Ginko’s past and what it means for his present and future, providing a framework for the film as a whole. Instead of simply wandering the countryside helping other people, Ginko has the additional motivation of trying to solve the mystery of who he really is and to reclaim his missing memories.

While I would consider the Mushishi manga and anime to be horror, albeit fairly subtle and subdued horror, the film is much more obviously so. Many of the underlying elements are the same, but the film focuses more directly on the aspects of traditional, supernatural horror. However, this does mean some of the more nuanced themes found in the manga and anime are missing. Otomo’s film is a much darker incarnation of Mushishi. The movie, especially towards its end, is incredibly creepy and extraordinarily disconcerting in both imagery and story. It’s so different in tone and narrative that it might actually be better described as a portrayal of an alternate universe of Mushishi rather than being a strict adaptation. It certainly won’t be to everyone’s taste, especially if viewers are expecting something more akin to the gentler (though still disquieting) anime adaptations, but I actually quite liked the movie. For me though, it’s really more of a horror film before it’s a Mushishi film. Still, I feel that the live-action film, the anime adaptations, and the original manga are all well worth checking out and are all fascinating in their own rights. And of course, although unlikely, I’d love to see more Mushishi media and merchandise released in North America.

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Mechademia, Volume 10: World Renewal

March 11, 2016 by Ash Brown

Editor: Frenchy Lunning
Publisher: University of Minnesota Press
ISBN: 9780816699155
Released: November 2015

Mechademia, one of the few academic journal’s in English specifically devoted to the study of manga and anime, began publication in 2006. Since then, under the editorial guidance of Frenchy Lunning, a new thematic volume has been released every year and the journal has grown to include research and analysis of other areas of Japanese popular culture, such as film, television, games, novels, and fandom. I’ve previously read individual articles published in Mechademia, and even own several of the volumes, but I’ve never actually read one of the annuals from cover to cover until now; I had the happy opportunity to receive a review copy of Mechademia, Volume 10: World Renewal from University of Minnesota Press. It’s an aptly themed volume, signalling the end of one era and ushering a in a new one for the journal—World Renewal, released in 2015, is the last volume with Lunning serving as editor-in-chief.

After Lunning’s acknowledgements and introduction, World Renewal is divided into four main sections which collect articles, essays, stories, and even a short manga. The first part of the volume, Passages of As Not, uses the March 2011 Tōhoku earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear disaster as a touchstone. Akira Mizuta Lippit’s “Between Disaster, Medium 3.11” examines the experience of disaster, time, and space through Koreda Hirokazu’s film After Life. Similarly, “The Land of Hope: Planetary Cartographies of Fukushima, 2012” by Christophe Thouny uses Sion Sono’s film The Land of Hope to discuss fictionalized portrayals of disaster and changing landscapes. Sabu Kohso’s “Tokyo Apparatus (Version 1.0)” looks beyond the Tōhoku disaster towards the 2020 Tokyo Olympics. The section concludes with a translation of Tomoyuki Hoshino’s “Good Morning: A Postdisaster Palm-of-the-Hand Story” which I was particularly happy to see as I find Hoshino’s works in general to be especially powerful.

While as a whole I found World Renewal to be interesting and rewarding, the second section, Positions of What If, dealing with alternate histories, presents, and futures, was perhaps my personal favorite. I especially liked Andrea Horbinski’s “Record of Dying Days: The Alternate History of Ōoku” which explores one of Fumi Yoshinaga’s most tremendous manga series. Susan W. Furukawa’s “Deconstructing the Taikō: The Problem of Hideyoshi as Postwar Business Model” is a fascinating analysis of the various interpretations of Hideyoshi Toyotomi in Japanese popular culture of the 1950s, ’60s, and ’70s. (Eiji Yoshikawa’s Taiko from the 1940s is also mentioned in passing.) Matthew Penny presents a fictional essay outlining a future history of Japan based on the ideals of the political far right in “A Nation Restored: The Utopian Future of Japan’s Far Right” which was a remarkably effective technique. I was also extraordinarily pleased to discover that Moto Hagio’s short manga “Nanohana” was included in this section as well.

World Renewal continues with the third part, Worlds of As If, which collects three case studies investigating possible emerging worlds through an examination of evolving methods of creation, experience, and engagement. Satomi Saito uses Sword Art Online, Vampire Hunter D, and The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya as examples of the varying and changing approaches used in the development of cross-media franchises in “Beyond the Horizon of the Possible Worlds: A Historical Overview of Japanese Media Franchises.” Sandra Annet’s “What Can a Vocaloid Do? The Kyara as Body without Organs” in part focuses on how fans use, reuse, and reimagine official characters and narratives to create their own media. The third section closes with “A World Without Pain: Therapeutic Robots and the Analgesic Imagination” by Steven R. Anderson which discusses Oriza Hirata’s dramatic play Sayonara and Katsuhiro Otomo’s Roujin Z anime among other works.

The final and fourth section of World Renewal, Loops of Just Then, largely deals with parallel narratives, worlds, and temporal loops. In “The Girl at the End of Time: Temporality, (P)remediation, and Narrative Freedom in Puella Magi Madoka Magica,” Forrest Greenwood compares the anime’s narrative structure to those that are commonly used in visual novels. Pamela Gossin delves into the complexities and connections between Hayao Miyazaki’s life and work in “Animated Nature: Aesthetics, Ethics, and Empathy in Miyazaki Hayao’s Ecophilosophy.” The Higurashi franchise forms a platform for Brett Hack’s examination of Japanese news coverage and media commentary on youth violence in “Ominous Image of Youth: Worlds, Identities, and Violence in Japanese News Media and When They Cry.” Finally, World Renewal concludes with “Parallel Universes, Vertical Worlds, and the Nation as Palimpsest in Murakami Ryū’s The World Five Minutes from Now” by Kendall Heitzman, an analysis of Murakami’s dystopic alternate history novel which I would love to one day read in translation.

Overall, I found World Renewal to be a thought-provoking and intellectually stimulating volume. Some of the essays can be fairly dense—this especially seemed to be true of those included in the first section—so the volume is difficult to recommend to a casual reader in its entirety, but there are also essays that are more readily accessible. For most people, picking and choosing among the various submissions according to their own particular interests will likely be the most satisfying approach to take. Personally, while I enjoyed reading about some of my own favorite series and creators in World Renewal, I greatly appreciated the analysis of works that I was less familiar with. In fact, my curiosity has been piqued and I’m much more interested in experiencing first hand some of the media examined in World Renewal that I had previously passed over or was unaware of. I also particularly liked the thematic nature of the volume which allows for a wide variety of material to be explored while still retaining some focus and cohesiveness. World Renewal understandably tends towards the academic which will at times prove challenging for a general audience, but the topics and material discussed are fascinating and many of the ideas expressed are quite interesting.

Thank you to University of Minnesota Press for providing a copy of Mechademia, Volume 10 for review

My Week in Manga: May 26-June 1, 2014

June 2, 2014 by Ash Brown

My News and Reviews

Last week was a slower week at Experiments in Manga, which is just as well because I spent a long weekend with my family in Ohio for my youngest sister’s high school graduation. I was pretty busy with things there, but I was still able to post a few things here. The most recent manga giveaway, for example. There are still a couple of days left to enter for a chance to win Oishinbo, A la Carte: Japanese Cuisine, too. All you have to do is tell me a little about your favorite food manga (if you have one). May’s Bookshelf Overload was also posted. Interestingly enough, I think I actually bought more comics last month than manga. (I largely blame TCAF for that.) As for reviews, I took a look at Yoshikazu Yasuhiko’s Mobile Suit Gundam: The Origin, Volume 5: Char & Sayla. Char happens to be one of my favorite Gundam characters, so it probably shouldn’t be too surprising that this volume is one of my favorites in the series thus far.

There were a few things that I found to read online last week that were particularly interesting, too: Manga Therapy is writing and hosting a series of posts for Mental Health Month, including Lauren Orsini’s article about Mushishi as a metaphor for mental illness. FanboyNation had an interview with Tokyopop. Brigid Alverson interviewed Akira Himekawa for Comic Book Resources. And finally, Revealing and Concealing Identities: Cross-Dressing in Anime and Manga, Part 3 was posted at The Lobster Dance. I’m sure there were plenty of other interesting articles and new to be found last week, but as I mentioned I was rather occupied with traveling, helping out at home, and visiting with family. If I missed anything major, please do let me know!

Quick Takes

Fujosports! by Various. The most recent anthology from the Love Love Hill collective, Fujosports! collects six sports-themed comics with a female-gaze. These aren’t necessarily the sports you might be expecting, though: logging competitions, roller derby, free-form rollerblading, Turkish oil wrestling, field hockey, and competitive dodge-ball. All of the stories tend to be generally upbeat and optimistic, but the artists’ styles are distinct. As might be expected from the “fujo” in the title, the anthology includes a bit of bromance and boys’ love potential, but there’s some girls’ love, too, and plenty of general team bonding. Each comic is followed by a short freetalk by the creators, which is a very nice addition and makes the stories even more personable Fujosports! is a cute, sweet, and humorous collection. Every contribution in the anthology left me with I huge grin on my face, or at least a smile. Simply put, Fujosports! is a lot of fun; I’m really glad that I picked it up.

Gangsta, Volume 2 by Kohske. I enjoyed the first volume of Gangsta so much that I immediately went out and preordered the second. The series is quickly becoming one of my favorite manga currently being released. Gangsta has plenty of action in addition to a wide range of interesting characters (both women and men, young and old), many of whom have dark, tragic pasts. More characters are introduced in the second volume, some of them even manage to survive to the end of it, and the larger, overarching plot continues to develop. The Three Laws binding the Twilights (should they actually choose to follow them) are directly lifted from Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics, nearly word-for-word. While this certainly emphasizes the inhuman characteristics of the Twilights, I did find it to be an odd choice. Still, the Three Laws provide excellent narrative frameworks for robot and android stories, so I’m willing to reserve my judgement and wait to see how Kohske uses them Gangsta.

The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, Volumes 1-2 by Akira Himekawa. After meeting Akira Himekawa at TCAF, I realized that although I was familiar with some of their work, I hadn’t actually read much of their manga. Granted, only The Legend of Zelda has been licensed for print release in English so far. I actually happen to be a fan of the Zelda video games, so I wasn’t surprised that I’m enjoying the manga series, too. Ocarina of Time was the game which inspired Himekawa to pursue The Legend of Zelda manga. The Ocarina of Time manga is accessible even to those who haven’t played the game, but those who have will be able to appreciate the nods to the original more. The manga follows the same basic plot as the video game, though Himekawa adds a few touches of their own. The Ocarina of Time manga is definitely an adventure story aimed at younger readers, there’s more action than there is nuanced character or plot development, but it’s fun.

K-20: The Fiend with Twenty Faces directed by Shimako Satō. K-20 is a live-action film based on the novels of Soh Kitamura (which sadly haven’t been translated into English) which were in turn inspired by the works and characters of Edogawa Rampo, specifically his famous detective Akechi Kogorō and his nemesis “Twenty Faces.” Akechi’s young assistant Kobayashi also has a role to play. It was because of this Rampo connection that I decided to watch the film in the first place, but even those unfamiliar with the references will be able to enjoy the movie. Packed with action and stunts, a little bit of romance, a great cast, and a large dose of humor, K-20 was extremely entertaining. The film is set in the late 1940s in an alternate history in which the Second World War was never fought but in which a strict hierarchical class structure is enforced. The story follows Endo Heikichi, an acrobat who is arrested for being the master thief K-20 after being set up, and his attempts to prove his innocence, basically by becoming as skilled as K-20 himself.

My Week in Manga: March 3-March 9, 2014

March 10, 2014 by Ash Brown

My News and Reviews

Last week the Smuggler Giveaway Winner was announced. As usual, I took the opportunity to compile a list. In this case, I pulled together some of the manga licensed in English that feature assassins. And speaking of assassins, last week I reviewed Hiroaki Samura’s Blade of the Immortal, Volume 28: Raining Chaos which focuses on the confrontation between the remnants of the Ittō-ryū and the Rokki-dan warriors and the Mugai-ryū assassins. There isn’t much plot development in the volume, but there are some great battle sequences. I also reviewed Real, Volume 2 by Takehiko Inoue, which features battles of an entirely different sort. Real is a mix of human drama, tragedy, and hope as its characters deal with events in their lives beyond their control. It’s a truly fantastic series.

There was quite a bit of manga industry news and analysis last week. I’m particularly excited that Moyoco Anno will be a featured guest at TCAF! ICv2 interviewed Dark Horse’s manga editor Carl Horn (Part 1, Part 2). Deb Aoki took a look at the state of digital manga for Publishers Weekly. Vertical’s licensing survey is currently underway. Vertical also posted a little more information about past surveys and how they’ve been used. Sean Gaffney rounds up some of the recent licensing announcements at A Case Suitable for Treatment. Not directly related to the current state of the manga industry but still worth a read is Dan Mazur’s post about early shōjo manga.

Quick Takes

My Little Monster, Volume 1 by Robico. On the first day of school, Haru was suspended and he hasn’t been back since. As a favor to a teacher, Shizuku agrees to bring him his homework which Haru interprets as a sign of friendship. Now, much to Shizuku’s dismay, the two of them have become nearly inseparable. Because of Haru’s propensity towards violence and his almost complete lack of understanding as to what is socially appropriate behavior, some of the situations in My Little Monster can be extremely uncomfortable and worrisome. However, although they are often used as a source of humor, I was very happy to see that Haru’s actions were not romanticized. His tendency to lash out and physically intimidate others, whether out of fear or for some other reason, was not generally portrayed as a desirable characteristic. It’s completely understandable that some people are afraid of him. However, Haru’s naivety and earnestness can be very endearing. Shizuku, one of the few people who can seem to handle the volatile Haru, is an interesting character in her own right with both flaws and strengths. They are both social misfits in their own ways; I’m very curious to see how their relationship continues to develop.

Thermae Romae, Omnibus 3 by Mari Yamazaki. If it seems like it’s been a long time since the last Thermae Romae omnibus was released, that’s because it’s been almost a year. Thermae Romae is a series that started out more like a gag manga, following the exploits of the Roman bath engineer Lucius as he somehow time travels to modern-day Japan and back after repeated near-drownings. With the second omnibus, the series shifts into a romantic comedy when Lucius meets Satsuki after becoming stuck in Japan. That ongoing plot continues through the rest of the series. Although there is still plenty of humor in the third omnibus, Thermae Romae takes a decidedly more serious turn when it looks like Satsuki and Lucius will be torn apart. Satsuki’s grandfather, an incredibly skilled massage artist (as well as a man who should definitely not be trifled with), plays an increasingly important role in the story. Thermae Romae is a great deal of fun. It has drama and romance and comedy, not to mention great art. The ending does feel a little abrupt, but Yamazaki notes that she hopes to write additional Thermae Romae stories that address some of the lingering questions that readers may have about the series and its characters.

Arakawa Under the Bridge, Season 1 directed by Akiyuki Shinbo. The Arakawa Under the Bridge anime series is based on an ongoing manga by Hikaru Nakamura. Kou Ichinomiya lives his life following one very simple rule that has been instilled in him by his father: never be indebted to another person. So when Nino, a rather strange young woman living on the banks of the Arakawa River, saves him from drowning, Kou wants to repay the favor and move on as quickly as possible. Except, the only thing that she wants is for him to stay with her and so Kou finds himself obligated to move in under the bridge. There he meets the other residents of the Arakawa River, all of whom are not just a bit peculiar and strange. Though Kou is supposedly the “normal” one, it quickly becomes obvious that he fits right in and is just weird as the rest of them. I found Arakawa Under the Bridge to be highly entertaining and enjoyable in all of its absurdity. The series doesn’t have much of an ending, which makes some amount of sense seeing as there is a second season (which I’ll definitely be watching), but the anime tends to be fairly episodic so I wouldn’t necessarily expect it to have a definitive conclusion, either.

Like Father, Like Son directed by Hirokazu Kore-eda. Ryota and Midori Nonomiya are stunned when they discover that their son Keita isn’t related to them biologically. Six years ago at the hospital where he was born, Keita was somehow switched with Ryusei, the son of Yudai and Yukari Saiki. Now the two families must decide how to handle the situation and whether blood ties are stronger than those of time. Ryota, who has his own father issues to work out and whose relationship with Keita wasn’t especially strong to being with, is having a particularly difficult time, but his wife is struggling tremendously as well. The members of the Saiki family tend to be a little more easy-going in comparison, but the situation is a challenge for them as well. And caught up in the whole mess are Keita and Ryusei, who have very little say in the matter. The revelation of the two boys being switched at birth disrupts both families, resulting in both joy and heartbreak as they grow to know each other better. Like Father, Like Son is a beautiful film about parental and familial love as Ryota learns what is important in life and what it really means to be a father.

The Wind Rises by Hayao Miyazaki. The anime film The Wind Rises is historical, biographical fiction, following the life of Jiro Horikoshi, an aeronautic engineer who designed fighter planes for Japan during World War II. Almost as much of the film takes place in Jiro’s dreams as it does in his waking life. At first, the designs of the planes in The Wind Rises are very fantastical but as the film progresses they become more and more realistic as Jiro makes his dreams a reality. There is an emphasis placed on the beauty of design and creativity, but this is contrasted with the ugly, destructive forces of war and the terrible applications of those innovations. His planes may have been beautiful, but their purposes were not, which begs the question–how much responsibility do artists hold over their creations and their use? The Wind Rises‘ answer to that question is left ambiguous. As with many of Miyazaki’s other films, The Wind Rises has gorgeous flight sequences and an anti-war sentiment. Some of the time skips were a little difficult to follow at first, and I think the film was a little longer than it really needed to be, but overall The Wind Rises was well done. It’s far from my favorite Miyazaki film, though.

It Came From the Sinosphere: Cheerful Wind

July 10, 2012 by Sara K. 3 Comments

About the Title

This film has quite a few titles in English. Cheerful Wind is the title used by the IMDB, yet Play While You Play is the English title on my DVD. The Mandarin title is Fēnger Tītà Cǎi (風兒踢踏踩) which roughly means ‘The Wind Tip-Tap Steps’.

Three People

I picked this film because it brings together three of the most important people in Taiwanese pop culture: Chiung Yao, Hou Hsiao-hsien, and Fong Fei-fei.

*****

Chiung Yao

Chiung Yao is the most popular writer of Chinese-language romance novels ever. I think she’s also Taiwan’s most popular female novelist ever. Many of her works have been adapted for TV, some of which are available on DVD even though they are over 30 years old. It is rare for a 30+ year old Taiwanese TV series to be available on DVD, which demonstrates just how popular Chiung Yao is. Furthermore, the 1998-2003 Chinese TV series adapted from her novel Princess Pearl, aka My Fair Princess, is the most popular Chinese-language TV series ever.

I’ll be honest; I haven’t read any of the novels or watched any of the TV series. Yet. But Chiung Yao’s position in Chinese-language pop culture is so important that I have to read at least a few of the novels and watch a few of the TV series if this column is to have any credibility. So I assure you, I WILL read some novels / watch some of the TV shows, and write about it here.

Naturally, none of her novels are available in English, because publishers apparently think there is no commercial potential in translating the works of the most popular romance writer in the Chinese-speaking world into English.

I am not clear what Chiung Yao’s involvement with this film is. The DVD claims that she is the original creator and that she ‘supervised’ the film, but this is not adapted from any of her novels, nor did she write the screenplay. Maybe she created the plot, or maybe she just let the film use her name to sell more tickets.

*****

Hou Hsiao-hsien

Out of all of the people involved with this film, Hou Hsiao-hsien is the best known outside of Asia. He is one of Taiwan’s most famous filmmakers. His best-known work is City of Sadness, set in the town of Jiufen (Jiufen also inspired Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away, and thanks to City of Sadness and Spirited Away Jiufen is constantly packed with Taiwanese and Japanese tourists). Hou Hsiao-hsien’s films get discussed in film schools around the world, put on “films to see before you die” lists, and played at international film festivals.

This film was made very early in his career—it’s only his second feature-length film. Nonetheless, his distinctive, low-key style is already apparent.

*****

Fong Fei-fei

If you created a list of “Five Most Important Taiwanese Singers of All Time,” Fong Fei-fei would definitely make the list. Frankly, I think she would belong on the “Three Most Important Taiwanese Singers of All Time” list too. She also happens to be one of my favorite Chinese-language singers. It was a big deal in Taiwan when she died earlier this year, and I wrote my own blog post about it.

Unlike Chiung Yao and Hou Hsiao-hsien, whose families fled China after WWII, Fong Fei-fei’s family had been in Taiwan for centuries, and she herself had been born in Taoyuan county (hey, I live in Taoyuan county!). Even after becoming a star, she stayed in touch with her working-class roots, and that is part of why she is so beloved.

Even though she is best known as a singer, she got her big break in show business as an actress, not a singer. That break was being cast in the TV show A Pair of Swallows Fly (燕雙飛), for which she sang the theme song. Even after establishing her singing career, she continued to accept acting roles, including the leading role in this film.

The Story

Xinghui is a photographer. She lives with her boss/boyfriend, Luozi, a producer of TV commercials from Hong Kong. However, her feelings for him a bit … lacking. While on a trip to Penghu to shoot a commercial, Xinghui meets Jintai, a flute-playing medic who lost his eyesight in a car crash while driving an ambulance. The two establish a rapport which only deepens when they happen to run into each other in Taipei. After an operation, Jintai can see again, and follows Xinghui to the countryside when she has to act as a substitute teacher for her brother. There, Jintai asks Xinghui to marry him. Meanwhile, Luozi plans a trip to Europe with Xinghui—knowing that travelling in Europe has been Xinghui’s dream.

So, does Xinghui run off to Europe with Luozi, or does she stay with Jintai in Taiwan?

The Theme Song

I really like the theme song for this film (which, by the way, was sung by Pauline Yeung and Kenny Bee, NOT by Fong Fei-fei herself). There are several other songs in the film, but the theme song is the clear winner. In fact, I like this song so much I translated the lyrics into English:

The wind blows and blows,
The clouds float and float,
The branches climb outside the window,
The little orioles are all adorable.

The wind steps on by,
The clouds step on by,
Knocking on the doors, asking,
‘Is my friend there?’

Spring’s footsteps come leisurely,
Yet quickly will be tip-tap stepping,
Young friends are tip-tap stepping,
And the world brims with love.

Charm

This film excels at charm. The story moves quite slowly and quietly, focusing more on highlighting how playful life can be instead of driving a plot forward.

For example, in the opening scene, they are shooting a commercial at a place where it is written “TAKING PICTURES IS FORBIDDEN.”

Xinghui and some men by a wall which says 'Taking Pictures is Forbidden'

The writing on the left side of the picture says “Taking pictures is forbidden.”

This is actually quite common in Taiwan—there are many places where the use of cameras is restricted for military reasons. I imagine these places would be especially common in Penghu, where this scene is set, because it is one of the most fortified places in Taiwan.

Speaking of military locations, one of my favorite scenes is where Xinghui, Jintai, and some children are playing hide-and-seek in an abandoned fortification (I am guessing that it is from the Japanese era, but I’m not sure).

Right at the beginning of the film, there are children who are setting up a dung bomb as a prank to play on a passerby.

However, the kids get the timing wrong, so the dung bomb explodes on them instead.

This boy is a victim of his own dung bomb.

Then, it is revealed that this is actually being filmed for a laundry detergent commercial. And because there was something wrong with this shot, they have to look for a cow so they can get more cow dung for more shots.

The dung bomb scene turns out to just be a film set.

It’s all just a film in the process of being shot.

I also cannot help notice that Xinghui wears at least five different hats during the film. Fong Fei-fei is known as the “Queen of Hats,” and I am pretty sure that is why Xinghui is wearing so many stylish hats during the film.

On Blindness

I am not comfortable talking about this because a) I have been sighted my entire life and b) I do not know much about the experience of blind people in Taiwan, but I am also not comfortable ignoring this.

There are times in the film when people treat blind!Jintai as an object instead of as a person with agency. I find it plausible that some Taiwanese people treat blind people this way (there is a reason why Taiwan has disability rights activists), so I do not fault the film for showing this. However, the film depicts this as being cute … and I do not think it’s cute.

There is also, of course, the fact that Jintai regains his sight during the film. On the one hand, the film depicts Jintai being fairly content as a blind man, which is an improvement over stories where blindness is depicted as being TEH MOST TRAGIC THING EVAAAAR!!!! On the other hand, the film does not explain why Jintai decided to have the operation, since the underlying assumption is that all blind people want to be sighted. I have no objection to people having operations to restore their eyesight, or to having this happen in stories, but I do object to the underlying assumption that this is the only way to address blindness.

Speaking of blind people and movies … Tommy Edison is a good film critic.

Nostalgia

This film was made in 1981, so it gives me a chance to see how much Taiwan has (not) changed.

The scenes set in Taipei in particular brought feelings out of me. The Taipei scenes are set in and around Taipei Main Station, which is the same area I lived in when I lived in Taipei. The train station itself has been completely rebuilt since the movie was filmed … yet some of the trains are still the same! Yep, some train cars from the 1980s are still in service today in Taiwan.

Taipei Train Station does not look like this AT ALL today.

I was also impressed by how little February 28 Peace Park has changed since the 1980s, even though the name of the park itself changed (in the film, it is called “New Park”).

That bridge, on the other hand, looks just the same today as it did in the 1980s.

Availability

I have this film on DVD. My DVD does not have English subtitles. I suspect there is no DVD with English subtitles. That said, this is a Hou Hsiao-hsien film, so there may very well be a film society out there which has a copy of this film with English subtitles.

Conclusion

Is it a great film? No. Is it a good film? Yes. I enjoyed watching it. Part of my pleasure came from recognizing different parts of Taiwan and Taiwanese culture, but even if I couldn’t tell Taiwan from Thailand I think I would have still enjoyed this quiet, whimsical film.

Next Time: CCC Manhua Anthology

Sara K. rather enjoys going to abandoned military sites in Taiwan. Recently she visited the coastal town of Shenao where she went to an area formerly restricted by the military—and saw cool-looking network of tunnels left by the military within the unusually-shaped rocks (she did not go inside because the entrance to the tunnels said “Danger: Do Not Enter”).

My Week in Manga: January 17-January 23, 2011

January 24, 2011 by Ash Brown

My News and Reviews

The Manga Moveable Feast for Karakuri Odette finished up yesterday. I was pleased to contribute not one, but two posts this time around (three if you count my quick take of the entire series). This probably won’t happen very often, but we’ll see what I can do. My first post was an in-depth review of the first volume of Karakuri Odette. This is the second in-depth manga review for January, so I’ve met my goal for another month, hooray! I also took a closer look at the androids of Karakuri Odette to see how they measured up to Isaac Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics. It’s kind of silly, but I had fun with it.

Did you get a chance to see the live-action Gantz film last week? Or maybe you just heard about it? Or perhaps you have no idea what I’m talking about? Regardless, there’s been an increased interest in the manga series it was based on, so I’ll be giving away a brand new copy of Gantz, Volume 1 by Hiroya Oku. The contest will begin this coming Wednesday, January 26 and will run for a week.

Quick Takes

ES: Eternal Sabbath, Volumes 1-8 by Fuyumi Soryo. I originally read the first four volumes of Eternal Sabbath from the library, but I liked the series so well that I picked up an entire set for myself. Shuro’s development as a character was particularly interesting. Incredibly intelligent and mature for his age, he is inexperienced emotionally and has to come to grips with this. And he isn’t the only character to grow and change throughout the series. The story itself explores some tough moral questions. The ending was a bit abrupt and parts of it were a little disappointing–Soryo probably could have used a couple more volumes finish–but I still really enjoyed the series.

Gantz, Volumes 1-5 by Hiroya Oku. The artwork is gloriously graphic and slightly disconcerting, but I do like it. However, there is bit more fan-service and misogyny than is necessary, although some of it is appropriate to the story. Gantz is dark. Gantz is violent. Gantz is edgy. It’s hard to say where Oku is going to go with the series and what the aim is or if there is some deeper meaning, but so far the examination of the human psyche is very interesting. The willingness that some characters show to participate in a deadly “game” that they don’t even understand is fascinating. I’ll probably keep with the series for a bit longer; I’d really like to know what is going on and there’s a lot of potential.

Sand Chronicles, Volume 10 by Hinako Ashihara. This is the final volume of Sand Chronicles which remains one of my favorite shoujo series. The main story ended with the eighth volume; volume ten is a side story that takes place when the main characters are in their thirties. They still struggle to accept and deal with their pasts which is not at all an easy thing. The emotional authenticity of Sand Chronicles has been one of its highlights throughout the series and the final volume is no exception. It provides a very satisfying conclusion (and continuation) to the series. The focus this time is on Daigo and it’s nice to see a bit more of the story from his perspective.

Under Grand Hotel, Volumes 1-2 by Mika Sadahiro. Incredibly intense, Under Grand Hotel is fiercely passionate and violent. Turn to a random page and you’ll most likely end up in the middle of a sex scene, but I was okay with that. Taking place in an underground prison, the manga is certainly a fantasy but a completely developed one. Sword is the shot-caller at UGH and Sen becomes his cellmate and lover for protection. At first it’s simply a convenient arrangement, but it soon becomes more. It’s not really a romantic love that is fostered, but instead the two men become mutually dependent upon one another and their lives are intertwined to such an extent that they can’t break free.

Departures directed by Yōjirō Takita. Departures won an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film in 2009, an honor that is well deserved, among many, many other awards. Daigo lands his dream job as a cellist just before the orchestra is dissolved. (As a fellow “failed” musician, I completely understand what he is going through.) He returns to his hometown and, mostly by chance or fate, becomes the assistant to an encoffiner. It’s a misunderstood a job that isn’t looked well upon, and so he tries to hide it from his wife and is unsure about pursuing it himself. Departures is a beautiful film that faces life and death head on without getting too heavy.

Gantz (World Premiere Live Event) directed by Shinsuke Sato. It was really unfortunate that they decided to screen this with an English dub rather than subtitles. Otherwise, the films seem to be a fairly decent adaptation of the manga so far and the visuals are great. The suits in particular are fantastic. However, for as much action and violence that is in the movie, the pacing seems to drag quite a bit. It also seems to be missing some of the intensity and edge present in the manga. I did enjoy Kenji Kawai’s score and the music was just the right mixture of creepy and driving. The actors did a fine job, particularly Kenichi Matsuyama, and I’m interested in seeing the second part of Gantz when it is released latter this year.