The Woman Called Fujiko Mine – Episode 3

Alright folks, it’s time at last to return to The Woman Called Fujiko Mine. The show’s first two episodes were each highly entertaining in their own ways, though I still find myself a little emotionally removed from its proceedings. Everything feels very ornate and beautiful and stylish, but it also strikes me as a little impersonal; the second episode’s narrative in particular, while theoretically centering on an intimate lovers’ betrayal, proceeded with all the majesty and emotional distance of a melodramatic stage production. It was an effective and very pretty story, but not an intimate one, and it’s not easy for me to immediately assign that to either Sayo Yamamoto’s general style, Fujiko Mine’s storybook affectation more specifically, or that episode’s even more specific tributes to Cowboy Bebop’s Ballad of Fallen Angels.

Of course, while Fujiko Mine might not yet be a star in an emotional sense, it’s still succeeding brilliantly as a series of ultra-stylish heist capers. The show’s visual direction is superb, its layouts are consistently brilliant, and Fujiko herself embodies the lusty, desperate tone of the entire production. Fujiko Mine possesses an instantly iconic and utterly story-appropriate style that feels like little else in anime, and since we’re still in episodic vignettes, the lack of an emotional punch isn’t really all that damaging. Let’s see what adventures await our master thief!

Episode 3

“It is a prison of sexiness from which she cannot escape.” I forgot how dang horny this show was, lol. Sayo Yamamoto sure loves her femme fatales

“The act of stealing lets her forget everything and keep her memories at a safe distance.” If I’m going to get emotionally invested in this narrative, I should probably start taking this rambling opening monologue seriously. The overarching focus is all on stealing as a sensual act, as well as how it’s simultaneously a way of confirming and hiding her identity. Safety in the identity of a thief, and a way for her to turn her sensuality into a kind of weapon. But the “memories at a safe distance” part implies this is a feint, an assumed posture designed to paper over old wounds. That’s a very common, frankly cliche explanation for female power – “she was given strength through the anger stemming from old wrongs.” It’s common enough to agency-bereft women in shows like this that I have to imagine Yamamoto is raising its specter intentionally, and that the details of her life will complicate and frustrate any dismissive readings

“Save me. But you have nothing left for me to steal, silly boy.” Yeah, see, Fujiko is clearly assuming a helpless damsel affectation in order to manipulate those who are susceptible to having their dismissive assumptions regarding her validated. So even this opening monologue is an intentional mixture of truth and lies, meaning you can’t really point to any convincing declaration of vulnerability or personal motive within it

Gorgeous grayscale introduction to a formal Japanese grave. The grayscale naturally fits into the old-fashioned Goemon’s introduction, echoing classic samurai films

“Grave of Ishikawa Goemon.” Sure

“A Lady and a Samurai.” Hell yeah. The traditional hum of koto strings again implies classic samurai flicks, while the faded font conjures something like a western. Frankly, my first point of reference for this stew is immediately Samurai Champloo; it’s clear that Yamamoto learned a ton of neat tricks from Shinichiro Watanabe, and is in many ways the most direct successor to his late 90s/early-00s style

We open at the Arc de Triomphe, and a photo of Tranc Georb, King of Astria

Goemon is now a “novice assassin” getting his first job. So presumably he killed an old identity and is starting over, as you do

God, this show’s shading is so iconic

I also really like this backing track. The melody is just a slow, held synth note balanced against one tinkling key, making for a restless and largely percussive track

So is Fujiko casing this place in the guise of a teacher? Once again, using dismissive associations regarding “women’s work” to in this case fade into the background as a faceless guardian, while the children let her hide in plain sight

Looks like there’s also a circus crew on this train. This will be a lively assassination

Ah, she actually got employed as the female tutor to the king’s grandchildren. Third time in a row she’s actually snuck into the service of the person she’s robbing

Of course there’s a succession issue – the crown prince died, and his sister won’t inherit the throne before the prince’s own son. Nothing like a royal succession conflict for a show about the intersection of gender and power!

“Who is this ‘samurai friend?’” Is this the story of how Goemon decided he wanted to be a master thief’s bodyguard forever and ever?

“It’s a man’s promise.” I appreciate that the child Marco is the only one engaging with Goemon on his level, thus underlining the inherent absurdity of Goemon’s bravado

Goemon demonstrates his strength by cutting a rabbit out of a plate. Fujiko returns the favor by lightly touching his hand. He seems as uncomfortable as Jigen around women

Presumably Goemon has been hired by Schmeidt, the daughter of the king’s husband, in order to kill him and gain the kingship before Marco comes of age

Fujiko keeps undercutting Goemon’s self-seriousness. When he Very Seriously cuts a giant hole in a rock, she just giggles at how he gets all covered in dirt

“No one has a place in this world.” I think Fujiko might actually believe that. It feels like the sort of thought that would actually be a comfort to her

“She’s lovely.” Goemon is adorable, and no match for Fujiko

The train’s drivers are killed, and we enter our endgame. If they don’t do something, the train goes off the rails

Goemon actually reveals himself, meaning I’m guessing he’s fallen for Fujiko’s charms. The combination of the king’s clear love for his grandchildren and Fujiko’s appeal seem to have won out over his obligation to complete his mission. It makes sense that the assassin who goes around in a traditional samurai outfit would be too much of a romantic to make much of an assassin

Wild sequence of Goemon cutting a bunch of bullets. This is the sort of trick that becomes an assumed power of Goemon’s in Lupin canon, but is obviously an absurd and terrifying feat in the abstract, and so it’s given the impact that it deserves as Fujiko is first introduced to it

“Let me take responsibility for this situation.” Goemon you giant ham, this is amazing. I love how this episode simultaneously demonstrates Goemon is a ridiculous person while also genuinely embracing his ridiculous, lovable nature. Fujiko Mine is obviously the star, but this show has been pretty kind to her costars in its cynical way

“We must discard the freight car.” “But the national treasures are in there!” “What’s more important, them or the children’s lives?” For Goemon, the math is easy – he considers himself a simple and righteous man. But Fujiko’s here for the treasure, and she’s the one using these kids as a prop

“Oh, jeez. There goes all the world’s treasures.” Fujiko’s resigned detachment here is great

“Look at all the friends we have!” The episode’s consistent song echoes Fujiko and Goemon’s one honest conversation, where they discussed the impossibility of finding any true home. But the episode’s own narrative complicates that cynicism, as Fujiko really does give up a great score for the sake of these children she’s “pretending” to care for

“I live in the shadow of solitude. Farewell.” Oh my god Goemon what is your deal

Goemon sends back a suitcase full of his shredded pay, an extremely Goemon move

Fujiko exults in her ultimate victory, but Goemon doesn’t really care at this point. He’s smitten as hell, and just remembering that “true home” conversation

“Did I just get a real girlfriend?” OH MY GOD GOEMON. This episode is amazing. What they’re doing to Goemon’s character feels like it might annoy a lot of classic Lupin fans, but I love this Goemon so much

And Done

Oh man, that episode was phenomenal! That was far and away my favorite episode of the show so far, and went a long way towards addressing my emotional distance from the production. The star this time was absolutely Goemon, who was such a socially inept but nonetheless lovable dork that he actually turned Fujiko Mine into something briefly resembling a romantic comedy. It felt like Sayo Yamamoto seriously thought to herself, “okay, what kind of man would actually walk around in samurai attire and make constant self-serious pronouncements,” and arrived at “an incredibly physically competent but nonetheless totally ridiculous nerd who really buys into his own mystique.” And Goemon’s profound straightforwardness and obvious vulnerability actually let Fujiko herself relax, too.

The fact that Goemon was never even close to a threat to her, and was so obviously smitten with her, meant she didn’t have to lie to him nearly as much as her last two partners – and the way this episode was constructed around ideas of home and her relationship with the children meant she was able to show some vulnerability as well. This was definitely the most aesthetically conservative of the three episodes so far, and the train setting didn’t really leave that much room for standout visual compositions, but the character writing here let me actually feel close to this show’s characters for the first time. I’m very excited for whatever’s next, and also really hope we see that dork Goemon again soon.

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One thought on “The Woman Called Fujiko Mine – Episode 3

  1. haha I’m glad you’re picking this up again. I finished this series a couple months ago and I’m really interested in hearing what you think about it.

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