Hello folks, and welcome back to my small slice of the internet. Summer arrived in force this week, heralding ninety degree afternoons and a whole lot of general dampness. I’m not complaining, though; I’ll take oppressive heat over oppressive cold any day, and will be enjoying my newly walkable city until the next eight-month winter arrives. Boston is actually quite nice in the summer; we’ve got a wide array of public parks, Cambridge is essentially an urban college town, and we’re positively lousy with colonial architecture and monuments. I am in fact convincing myself to go for a walk as I type, so let’s wrap up this aimless preamble, and get to the real meat of the article. A new week has passed, some excellent films have been screened, and I’m eager to share my findings with you. Let’s get to it!
Author Archives: Bobduh
86 – Episode 11
Well, I guess we’re doing this, huh? After storming through 86’s ninth and tenth episodes in a flash, I’ve been putting off the season’s final episode for a solid month now. The reason for that is simple: this episode looks like an absolute horror show, and I’m not exactly eager to see Spearhead’s remaining members get torn to pieces. The team has suffered enough, the unconscionable inhumanity of war has been made undeniably clear, and I’d be perfectly happy to let our heroes just ride off into the sunset.
I kid, but only to a certain extent. 86 is not a story that should conclude with a pat, happy resolution, because the conflicts it has articulated are too imposing and too substantive to be conveniently resolved. By positioning itself in the grand tradition of stories like All Quiet on the Western Front, For Whom the Bell Tolls, and Catch-22, 86 has essentially guaranteed its conclusion will either be suitably tragic, or else embrace enough feel-good escapism to risk undercutting its core themes.
And that, more than anything else, is what I’m afraid of. Can you actually tell a substantive war story in a light novel context, where stories are designed for infinite sequential replication, and main characters are often treated more like brand ambassadors than human beings? The narrative variables 86 began with have largely been resolved, but this is only the show’s first of an unknown number of seasons, which to some extent gives me my answer. I’m thusly steeling myself for some awkward sequel hooks, but if this episode can tie a neat bow on the season’s drama, linking Lena and Shin’s experience one final time, I’ll be plenty satisfied. Let’s dive into the last episode of 86!
Pokemon Sun and Moon – Episode 53
Hello everyone, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. It’s been a couple solid months since we last visited the shores of Alola, and I’m currently still working off an awful cold, so I’d say we’ve more than earned a return to Sun & Moon. Though at this point, I doubt we’ll be seeing too many sun-dappled beaches or cloudless skies, given the crew just rode Solgaleo through a goddamn wormhole. The land of the Ultrabeasts awaits, and I’m expecting some impressive feats of pokebattle animation as our team seeks to rescue Lusamine. Just fighting one Ultrabeast seemed too much for our shamelessly stat-modded Pikachu – even with a legendary pokemon at their side, can our heroes truly battle them on their own turf? With the stakes higher than ever before, let’s return to the fantastical world of Sun & Moon!
The Demon Girl Next Door – Episode 7
Hello everyone, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I’m eager to return to The Demon Girl Next Door, where Shamiko most recently staged a daring counterattack against her magical girl nemesis. Seeing her opponent in a moment of weakness, Shamiko first pillaged her blood to feed her ancestors, before commencing an outright invasion of Momo’s secret base. For once, victory was claimed by the forces of evil, and it was Momo who was left to mutter a defeated “I’ll get you next time.”
At least, that’s what I assume Shamiko’s ancestor will write for her status report. In truth, although Momo did indeed show some weakness last episode, Shamiko responded to it with all the kindness we’ve come to expect from our demon girl. After frequently coming across as impossibly perfect throughout the first several episodes, the struts propping up Momo’s poise came tumbling down, revealing the mess of a person behind them. Through the exploration of Momo’s dreamspace, we learned she is haunted by nightmares of her past life, and convinced of her own unsuitability as a magical girl. Through the visit to her house, we further learned she lives a life of isolation, and struggles with even the basic demands of independent life. And through her simultaneously tragic and hilarious familiar, we learned she sees herself as over the hill, a relic who’s already lost her magic spark.
That’s a lot of stress for such a young person! Given the lofty expectations placed upon her, it’s no wonder that Momo has retreated into this distant, seemingly “perfect” affectation, and also no surprise that her image is starting to crack. Just as the world expected Shamiko to fail due to her status as a “fallen girl,” so has it expected Momo to shine unerringly, embodying an ideal of femininity that no human being could hope to match.
Through the reveal of Momo’s circumstances, last episode demonstrated how this Madonna/whore binary punishes even those it’s ostensibly celebrating, forcing them to deny their preferences or imperfections in order to please society’s arbitrary strictures. And through that revelation, it became clearer than ever that Shamiko is precisely the person Momo needs: someone who accepts her failings, and who understands that “if you always live in fear of other people seeing your weaknesses, you’ll never make any progress in life.” As a person composed almost entirely of weaknesses, Shamiko has had to embrace that philosophy from the start; if she can get her friend to share it, they might just escape from this prison of society altogether. But I’ve rambled for more than long enough, so let’s dive back into The Demon Girl Next Door!
Spring 2022 – Week 7 in Review
Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. This week I’ve been munching through a whole lot of comfort food, chewing my way through a variety of horror attractions, and also starting a new book simply because I wanted to read it. Everyone online seemed to love Gideon the Ninth, and so far I’m having a great time with it too, while also just savoring the feeling of reading for pleasure again. I know I’m the least appropriate person to impart this lesson, but you really do have to keep some of yourself for yourself, and not turn absolutely everything into content or profit. Of course, with me being me, I expect I’ll still be roused to ramble about Gideon once I’ve actually finished it – but for now, let’s just run through some fresh new films. Onward!
Symphogear XV – Episode 10
Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today the sun is shining, the birds are trilling, and we’re watching some goddamn Symphogear. When last we left off, Hibiki had just emerged from her doctor-prescribed Pit of Despair, the place she generally visits before rallying for a given season’s final battle. Having once again lost Miku to the allure of jet-propelled pants, she was forced to commiserate with her father, who for once actually had some reasonable advice for her.
Meanwhile, our sword lesbians were busy hashing out some disagreements in the only way sword lesbians can. Kazanari’s violently nationalist philosophy was frankly too distant from Tsubasa’s values to ever present a genuine allure, but where authentic philosophical conflict fails, brainwashing can serve in a pinch. I’m not particularly bothered by that admittedly clumsy turn; having Tsubasa be caught between familial legacy and personal feelings was a natural direction to take this story, and ending it with Kazanari literally killing his son in order to impart his values to his granddaughter felt like a perfect capstone for his role in the narrative. It’s the ultimate counterpoint to his claims of working to protect the family: in the end, nationalists will sacrifice anything for the sake of their own glorious self-image.
With XV’s political thread having pretty much resolved itself, it’s time to get personal, as Hibiki fights to save her wife from some new god-summoning ritual or whatever. However things turn, I’m sure the battles will be absolutely spectacular for Symphogear’s grandest of finales. Let’s get to it!
Ranking of Kings – Episode 4
Hello again, and welcome to Wrong Every Time. Today we’ll be returning to the world of Rankings of Kings, wherein Bojji most recently set off on a grand adventure. All the pieces are now set for a classic work of heroic fantasy: a young boy with grand dreams but untested abilities, a nefarious half-brother claiming his birthright, and a vast world sprawling out before him. But of course, even by this point, it’s clear that Ranking of Kings intends to complicate our understanding of heroism, justice, and righteousness.
For two full episodes, and up through the first half of the third, Queen Hyling was presented as an unambiguous antagonist to Bojji. She scolded him for his fundamental nature, marveled at his weakness relative to her trueborn son, and even led the charge to prevent his ascension to the throne. We were given every reason to believe Hyling belonged to a long lineage of evil stepmothers, whose motives require no unpacking, and whose role in the narrative is entirely one-dimensional.
And then, we learned who Hyling truly was. How she’d initially possessed such enthusiasm for connecting with Bojji, and how she genuinely respected his gentle nature. How they’d grown together, and then how the birth of her son had slowly drawn them apart. Crucially, what we learned about Hyling did not reframe her prior actions as secretly noble – Hyling has done both kind things and selfish things, sometimes operating according to her most charitable instincts, and at other times reacting out of fear, impatience, or simple frustration. She is the first to embody Ranking of Kings’ most central and urgent theme: that people are not simply good or evil, people are people, with complex motives, concerns we’re not privy to, and the capacity to act in both kind and unkind ways. Hyling was not drawn away from Bojji by some equally noble cause; she simply let love slip into indifference, and from there to resentment. So it goes.
Ranking of Kings’ general refusal to engage in moral absolutism, its understanding that we all contain multitudes, is its most compelling thematic thread. But beyond that, the show is also charming and beautiful and a generous adventure in its own right, embodying the strengths of its genre predecessors while dancing around many of their pitfalls. With Bojji at last on his way, I’m eager to see where his adventure leads, so let’s get right back to the delightful Ranking of Kings!
Simoun – Episode 24
Hello everyone, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’ll be returning to the skies of Simoun, where Chor Tempest is currently on the verge of total abolition. In fact, it’s not just Chor Tempest, but the foundations of Simulacrum society that’s threatened by this new peace. At least during the war, Simulacrum could still cling to its identity as a chosen land, and the sole wielder of the Ri Majoon. But with the walls between these societies falling just as foreign engineering catches up with them, all of the things that defined Simulacrum as special are swiftly disintegrating.
Of course, as Onashia just revealed, the alternative promises its own form of disintegration. To maintain Simulacrum’s status as a pristine gem, and to fully embrace the power of the Ri Majoon, is to separate yourself from the natural cycles of life and death. Simulacrum’s overall society has been mirroring the nature of its sybillae: kept pristine through isolation, utterly preoccupied with the fear of “contamination,” and in many ways contained to a perpetual adolescence.
The parallels between simoun sibyllae, Simulacrum itself, and the Class S narratives this story is drawing on are abundantly clear, and at this point, the show’s proposed solution seems clear as well. To seek perfection is to seek non-existence; only through embracing the world will Simulacrum survive, just as how only through embracing their imperfect humanity will the sibyllae grow into adulthood. Perfection is beautiful, but it is also static; Simulacrum was a wonder, but it was built to fall. Let’s return to this mirage’s final days, as we explore one more episode of Simoun!
Spring 2022 – Week 6 in Review
Hey folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. It seems like spring has finally arrived in my neighborhood, so I hope you’re all enjoying the blissfully temperate weather as much as I am. I’ve also been feeling pretty upbeat about my article progress; I finished an essay I’d been poking at for weeks, knocked out a couple ambitious notes projects, and have got a sizable Why It Works column arriving next Monday. My bounty board is looking more manageable than it has in some time, and in the meantime, I’m still sneaking in as many films as I can to power-level my cinema stats. I started off this whole review business with full points in literature and not much else, so I’ve been doing my best to rush the cinema study endgame, and feeling just a tad more attuned to the breadth and history of film with each new article. Seeing connections and influences emerge in real time is an immensely satisfying process, and I’m doing my best to feed all that study back into my critical work. But for now, let’s just poke at some interesting films, as we run down one more Week in Review!
Hakujaden
Hello everyone, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’ll be exploring the oldest work of anime I’ve ever covered on the blog, and in fact, the first full-length film Toei Douga ever produced. Known as Hakujaden, “The White Serpent,” or “Panda and the Magic Serpent,” it’s an adaptation of a classic work of Chinese folklore, and is essentially the anime equivalent to Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.
In this film, we will be witnessing the process of a new art form coming into being, as the scattered shorts of prior years gave way to a new era of anime production, led in large part by the luminaries of Toei Douga. Eventually the studio’s film productions would jumpstart the careers of modern legends like Takahata and Miyazaki, but for Hakujaden, the key animation would be composed by just two animators: Akira Daikubara handling the humans, and Yasuji Mori taking care of the animals. Hakujaden is a staggeringly significant work by any metric, and I’m frankly well outside my depth in attempting to “critique” it in anything but the most wildly ahistorical of styles, but I hope at the very least we can simply sit and appreciate it together. Let’s explore the birth of Toei Douga’s film catalog!