Heck yeah everybody, let’s get back to The Big O. This show’s first episode was a terrific mix of evocative art design and snappy thriller storytelling, combining gothic and art deco architecture with an angular, shadow-heavy visual aesthetic, along with some striking layouts and unique robot designs. Though he’s technically a “negotiator,” Roger Smith’s first adventure cast him as something more like a resigned gumshoe in a noir thriller, putting his violent past to work as a private detective, haunted by vague and distant demons. Roger’s life was disrupted by Dorothy, an android on the hunt for her “big sister,” a quest that culminated in Roger sending a hyper-powered robotic piledriver into that sister’s chest.

We were left on the most precipitous of cliffhangers, with Dorothy I and The Big O tumbling down on top of Dorothy II in the midst of a decaying, domed city. I ended up enjoying that first episode far more than I expected to, and am already taken with a variety of this show’s key features – its unique and often beautiful art design, its efficient storytelling, its overarching sense of melancholy, and especially the developing relationship between Roger and Dorothy. I’m a sucker for a good partnership, and particularly fond of their classic “smooth talker is perpetually deflated by their deadpan assistant, but there’s romantic tension there???” dynamic. Let’s see if Dorothy has been flattened into a pancake!

Episode 2

Huh, seems like the show’s whole opening might just be that “cast in the name of god, ye not guilty” cut of The Big O being forged

“Paradigm City” is a good name for this city of amnesia. A “paradigm” is essentially a model of expected behavior, the limit of things we expect given a certain known system. Having lost all of their memories, this city has had to invent its own paradigm of society in the absence of anything but context-bereft environmental clues. This strange circumstance is likely intended to emphasize how arbitrary our terms of civility and social engagement ultimately are – this is a “fake city,” but people need a sense of normalcy and routine, and so they invent a new “normal” adhere to, a collectively and willfully agreed-upon paradigm

I like how they consistently emphasize how heavy Dorothy is. Stories will often downplay the “otherness” of androids, but questions of identity are key to this show, and so Dorothy’s inhuman nature is always an awkward physical presence. It also feels appropriate to have a really, really heavy android in this somewhat anachronistic world, that seems to have at least one foot in the 1920s

Nice use of titling again this episode, with “Dorothy Dorothy” contrasted against her one forlorn, abandoned shoe, as if the show is calling out her name

Roger’s old military companion seems to direct the police here, implying this place might be under direct military control

The Big O is remarkably good at hiding underground. A well-chosen handwave – there’s really no practical way to “hide” a robot this size in a city like this (digging a giant hole in the ground is very different from “disappearing in a puff of smoke”), but stories can generally afford to ask their audiences to forgive just a couple key contrivances

The internet’s obsession with “plot holes” like this sure does weary me. Contrivances like this are a fundamental and thoroughly understood element of storytelling – the important thing is not to make sure “every single detail makes sense,” but to ensure your story’s load-bearing dramatic variables always feel impactful, while doing your best to disguise all the subterfuge and handwaving you’re doing in other elements of the narrative. Unbelievable contrivances aren’t a “failure” of storytelling, they’re a basic aspect of it, and seeing critics treat their presence or absence as some key reflection of storytelling merit is exhausting

The city has an abandoned transport system that is now treated as if it’s haunted, which Roger abuses to move The Big O

There’s an interesting balance to strike in explaining things like this, because audiences also get a thrill out of learning “how things work,” and having that desire betrayed by a narrative demonstrating that it doesn’t care about how that works can have a negative impact on their emotional investment. You explain what you can, conceal what you can’t, and always try to keep the audience’s attention on what you want them to be looking at. Storytelling is more like writing a song or conducting a magic trick than a blueprint or encyclopedia

Nice shot of this giant collapsed clock, in this city that has lost its history

I love this show’s moody colors. Sickly greens, deep purples

More time-related imagery, as we see Roger through a series of hourglasses

“Just let it go, Roger Smith.” But he can’t get Dorothy’s face out of his mind. His comment also speaks to the necessity of forgetting, another key motif

“Memories are like nightmares. They come to you when you least expect it.” Not sure that’s technically true, but sure

Roger’s contact mentions Soldano’s last words, “nightingale”

He runs across Dorothy entering a club called the Nightingale, but she acts like she doesn’t know him, and hides behind her true “father”

Forgetting, again

I like how this episode plot is forcing Roger to actually admit he cares about this situation, and not just play it cool. It’d be easy for Roger to come across as a kind of power fantasy, but he feels pretty vulnerable

As Dorothy sings on stage, Roger relates the tale of the nightingale – of an emperor who loved a mechanical bird

“I no longer need that crusty codger’s memories.” And again, memories

Dorothy flings one of these goons over her head, and I immediately think of Steve Blum saying “I like a girl who can kick my ass.” This show continues to be a weirdly nostalgic experience, tethered to turn-of-the-millennium animation touchstones of both anime and American media. It’s weird to watch a show that so clearly feels like a “lost Toonami anime,” from my perspective of never having seen it before

Timothy Wainwright, Dorothy’s father, apparently recovered memories that led him to build his recent robots. In this city, memories themselves are a valuable resource to excavate

I love how that ties in thematically with “things coming back to haunt you” in an emotional sense. Roger is clearly haunted by personal demons, and meanwhile, he does battle with robots literally constructed out of dangerous memories

I love this shot of Dorothy I walking past lit windows, framed as abstract rectangles on an entirely black canvas. I wish more shows embraced such uniquely stylized artistry

God, you can see Dorothy I’s “spine” dangling through the hole in its chest. What a disturbing design, and so convenient for creating interesting compositions, by framing the city through this gaping hole

We actually see the bad guy piloting Dorothy I this time, which makes it feel much less imposing as an adversary

Such a tremendous sense of weight and scale to these robots. These are not graceful machines – they are giant, lumbering metal buildings. I really like this approach to giant robots

Dorothy II is being used to power the robot. Getting some strong Rei Ayanami vibes with this whole Dorothy situation

Wonderfully expressive character animation for this villain, as he wildly emotes inside his cockpit. The simplified colors and highly angular designs make it easier to express exaggerated physical movements, since their body movements are clear even in flat profile, and there’s not that much to redraw when moving them

God, these storyboards are so good at conveying how cramped this city is, and how massive these robots are within it

“You’re Dorothy Wainwright! Just be who you are!”

Aha, her hairband is actually a port for connecting to other devices. Amazing

I like how the Big O’s internal color scheme echoes both of them – Roger’s black tones and Dorothy’s red ones

I always appreciate this comedy beat of somebody opening the door, seeing a giant monster outside, and promptly slamming it

“Oh man. My robot. He broke it!” A universal sentiment

Oh, Dorothy’s name is actually “Waynewright.” That’s gotta be a direct Batman nod

Waynewright used the blueprints from Dorothy I to fund the creation of Dorothy II, hoping to revive his lost daughter in the form of a robot. More murmurs of memory and identity

And so Dorothy joins the team!

And Done

This show is a lot of fun! The second half of this two-parter was a bit more action-packed than the first, leaving less time to explore this world’s compelling history and architecture, but its battles were quite compelling in their own right. I appreciated the sense of weight and scale in these robots’ movements, which seems to hearken back to a very different genre history than the art deco designs, and noir thriller narrative. “Super robot excess plus smoldering detective drama” doesn’t seem like it’d make for a natural combination, but that itself is part of The Big O’s appeal – you almost never see pieces like these combined like this, and the results are both thrilling and totally unique. I really appreciate unique aesthetic combinations, and on top of that, the storytelling is also strong; this two-parter traded in some pretty classic narrative beats, but it executed them with great energy, and smartly wove both its visual and thematic motifs into every element of the narrative. A remarkably strong start for The Big O, and I look forward to continuing this journey!

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