Bakemonogatari
Oh my goodness, where to begin? It’s like Sam Raimi and Robert Rodriguez collaborated to direct a Shane Black screenplay based on a supernatural/horror story as envisioned by the creators of Phineas and Ferb.
The result is a self-aware production replete with metahumour, metadialogue and other sledgehammer swings at the fourth wall. It’s not particularly graphic: even when a character is flailed about by his newly-liberated entrails, the scene is lacking what the BBFC might call “a focus on detail”. And given our main character Koyomi’s circumstances, the viewer is left with little or any doubt of his survival, thus dulling any suspense during the supernatural scenes.
And so we arrive at my one predicament: what is the primary focus? Is it a supernatural drama or a spoof of modern (circa 2006) anime tropes? I found these elements in conflict with each other rather than in harmony. I suspect that it was meant to be for supernatural drama, but the frequent self-referential interludes slow down the overall pace.
Then there’s the animation. Look, I get that the rapid jump cuts do create a sense of disorientation. I get that the desolate town setting creates a sense of character isolation, further reinforced by long distant shots of characters. I get that the insertion of production notes in place of animation frames adds to the overall self-awareness of the characters and the production itself. I even get the fact that every diver in town driving a Honda S500 speaks of an environment of conformity.
All the same, I still believe that these devices were used as a cost-cutting legerdemain. Jump cuts save on animation frames, as do the production notes, as does Koyomi’s emotive cowlick. Sparse settings mean less background to render. Dialogue where the characters’ mouths can’t be seen mean that lip flaps need not be animated. And the single Honda S500 render can just be cut and pasted as needed. Not that there’s anything wrong with this, as we’ve seen such productions as Evangelion employ similar methods to great effect. Here we see the Raimi and Rodriguez influence of stretching a given production budget: making $10 million look like $100 million.
This is not a bad production, but it is unnecessarily long. It would have been more effective as a four-part OVA – one part for each affected character, with less of the metahumour to bog down the proceedings. As it stands, it gets 6/10.
Oh my goodness, where to begin? It’s like Sam Raimi and Robert Rodriguez collaborated to direct a Shane Black screenplay based on a supernatural/horror story as envisioned by the creators of Phineas and Ferb.
The result is a self-aware production replete with metahumour, metadialogue and other sledgehammer swings at the fourth wall. It’s not particularly graphic: even when a character is flailed about by his newly-liberated entrails, the scene is lacking what the BBFC might call “a focus on detail”. And given our main character Koyomi’s circumstances, the viewer is left with little or any doubt of his survival, thus dulling any suspense during the supernatural scenes.
And so we arrive at my one predicament: what is the primary focus? Is it a supernatural drama or a spoof of modern (circa 2006) anime tropes? I found these elements in conflict with each other rather than in harmony. I suspect that it was meant to be for supernatural drama, but the frequent self-referential interludes slow down the overall pace.
Then there’s the animation. Look, I get that the rapid jump cuts do create a sense of disorientation. I get that the desolate town setting creates a sense of character isolation, further reinforced by long distant shots of characters. I get that the insertion of production notes in place of animation frames adds to the overall self-awareness of the characters and the production itself. I even get the fact that every diver in town driving a Honda S500 speaks of an environment of conformity.
All the same, I still believe that these devices were used as a cost-cutting legerdemain. Jump cuts save on animation frames, as do the production notes, as does Koyomi’s emotive cowlick. Sparse settings mean less background to render. Dialogue where the characters’ mouths can’t be seen mean that lip flaps need not be animated. And the single Honda S500 render can just be cut and pasted as needed. Not that there’s anything wrong with this, as we’ve seen such productions as Evangelion employ similar methods to great effect. Here we see the Raimi and Rodriguez influence of stretching a given production budget: making $10 million look like $100 million.
This is not a bad production, but it is unnecessarily long. It would have been more effective as a four-part OVA – one part for each affected character, with less of the metahumour to bog down the proceedings. As it stands, it gets 6/10.