Setting the mood

One of the hidden strengths of anime are its backgrounds and how just a simple shot can convey a setting or mood. Case in point, this shot from episode ten of Yamada-Kun To Lv999 No Koi Wo Suru:

Tokyo cityscape at night. Two people are crossing a zebra while a car is driving past

This perfectly captures the feel of the city late at night. Darkness only broken by the artifical lights of the lamp posts, passing cars and shop windows. There are still plenty of people out, but they’re all on their way somewhere, nobody’s just hanging about. You can tell that the day’s heat hasn’t dissipated yet. No need for clock or caption to show what time this takes place. All of it shows just how odd it was for Yamada to show up at Akane’s apartment that night because he was worried for her. It immediately lends an intensity to the episode in a way that your average ‘your crush cares for you as you’re home alone sick with the flu’ just doesn’t have. The scene later in the episode, where he has to take her to the hospital in a taxi? I’ve been there.

An almost diametrically opposite mood is set in this scene from the same week’s Skip to Loafer episode, nine. It’s the Summer holidays and Mitsumi is back with her family, gotten out of bed late on her second day staying there, just munching on some water melon and letting her thoughts drift. As she eats her melon, she idly looks at her mother doing the dishes, before looking out of the window. There follows a series of landscape shots, with only the sound of her eating the melon for company. Again, it perfectly sets the mood. Haven’t we all had those moments of laziness, slowly waking up when you know there’s nothing that you need to do but relax?

World War III fanfiction

If, like me, you were obsessed with Tom Clancy’s Red Storm Rising as a child growing up during the late Cold War, then Third World War 1987 is the site for you:

I intend to take a multifaceted approach with this blog. Primarily, I want to construct a detailed narrative, and timeline centered on a US/NATO-Soviet Union/Warsaw Pact conflict set in 1987. Attached to that will be a comprehensive account of the global military picture as it was in 1987.

Of course it lacks some of the frisson of Clancy’s original, as a superpower confrontation like this is now firmly in the realms of alternative history rather than a plausible what-if, but it’s still an earnest, in-depth look at what could’ve been. The actual story starts with an NBC news broadcast on April 18, 1987 and you can continue it by clicking on the next post link at the bottom of the page. It’s a bit awkward to navigate as the links are listed below the comments, while related posts show up above it. That minor quibble aside, this is an enjoyable read if you’re a bit of a grognard. World War III fanfic, if you like.

As for how likely such a conflict was during those last years of the Cold War, MILITARY PLANNING FOR EUROPEAN THEATRE CONFLICT DURING THE COLD WAR AN ORAL HISTORY ROUNDTABLE STOCKHOLM, 24– 25 APRIL 2006 (PDF) is essential. Basically a gathering of various NATO and Warsaw Pact military commanders reminiscing about the Cold War, reading it makes clear nobody took the idea of a war actually breaking out between the two seriously at the time. Reading through the testimonies it’s clear that they all took the idea of war seriously and endlessly prepared for it, but never expected it to really happen, as it didn’t. Reassuring to read, even retrospectively.

Love in a Time of Covid — Friday Funnies

It’s 2020, the Covid pandemic has hit Japan and even the black company Nokoru Mitsuhashi works for was forced to send him to work from home. Working from home has its perks for Nokoru: no more commuting, not being forced to wear a suit, getting to slowly know and having a chance at romance with his graduate student neighbour, Natsu Izumi…

Natsu Izumi leaning over Nokoru Mitsuhashi, almost kissing him

Telework Yotabanashi is a short, twenty chapters long adult romance manga by Yamada Kintetsu. And when I say adult, I mean this is a romance story about actual adult with actual adult concerns and which is honest about how actual romance works in the real world.

Nokoru orders condoms online for the first time his neighbour stays the night as a gentleman must be prepared for all eventualities

What I like about Telework Yotabanashi is how realistic it is in how Nokuru & Natsu’s relationship evolves from casual acquaintances to lovers. They get to know each other, there’s a bit of romantic tension almost from the start and when they make it official, it’s by talking about it like adults. She borrows his manga, he her books on Angor Wat. The snacks she brings him as ‘payment’ for the loans he starts stocking himself as finds he likes them. When they’re playing games together, she brings her chair over. Little things like that.

It also impressed me that there were no over the top romantic gestures or impulsive actions that made their relationship official, but rather that they talked about it to make it so. It makes so much sense considering their characters. Nokuru is one of those people who need to understand things completely before committing himself — he works in IT after all — but he’s not willfully ignorant. Natsu is the more forward one of the two, more of an extrovert, but not a manic pixie dream girl by any measure. From the start you know these two will end up together even if Nokuru, who’s narrating all this, hadn’t announced this was the story of how he met his wife.

Nokoru reflects on the benefits of being able to get out of bed ten minutes before work starts and reading a bit of manga with breakfast

In all, a smart, cute little romance story you can read in an hour or two and one that feels contemporary. The usual high school romances that manga is full off can give off the feeling of being set in a largely unchanging world where only the model of cell phones (or lack thereof) betray in which year the manga was created. Here, you’re in no doubt that this is set in 2020. I rarely felt so seen too as in that panel above, because that’s one of the main benefits for me too, that extra time not spent commuting.

1983: The World at the Brink — Taylor Downing

Cover of 1983


1983: The World at the Brink
Taylor Downing
391 pages including notes and index
published in 2018

If there ever was a movie that embodied the fears about nuclear war I had living through the early eighties, just old enough to understand the concept, it has to be Threads. I turned nine that year, just old enough to start to comprehend what nuclear war would be like. We had an insane cowboy in the White House who talked about a winneable nuclear war and a series of rapidly decomposing, extremely paranoid leaders in the Kremlin. One small mistake and the world would’ve ended. And while I didn’t learn about Threads long after the cold War had ended, I really didn’t need it to have nightmares. Any mention of anything nuclear on the news was enough to set them off. It didn’t help either that pop culture at that point was saturated with nuclear war imagery.

Fortunately, Threads was never broadcast in the Netherlands at that time, or I would’ve never been able to sleep ever again. Learning about it in a BBC retrospective somewhere around the turn of the millennium was traumatising enough already for the nightmares to return. That shot of the mushroom cloud going up over Sheffield with the old lady in the foreground pissing herself. That was the sort of fear and anxiety, that feeling of helplessness I grew up with in the eighties, in a country where you couldn’t pretend that you could have cool adventures fighting mutants afterwards. No, you either be dead or wishing you were. Being a sensitive kid I didn’t need to see nuclear war movies to imagine how horrible it would be. Which is why I won’t be celebrating Threads day by finally watching it.

Threads: Thursday May 26th 08:00

No, I prefer to feed my nightmares through print, like with Nigel Calder’s Nuclear Nightmares which I reread a couple of years ago. As with so many people my age I know, I can’t help but occasionally pick at that scab. Especially as I got older and learned more about the realities behind my nightmares, I can’t help but want to learn more about it, to confirm my fears weren’t unfounded. 1983: The World at the Brink is very good at doing exactly that. It not only confirmed that my childhood nuclear war paranoia was justified, it showed things were so much worse than I could’ve ever imagined back then. 1983 may very well have been the most dangerous year of the entire Cold War.

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Mombassa Road — Friday Funnies

For those looking for an artist to scratch their Hugo Pratt itch, may I recommend Attilio Micheluzzi?

The first page of Mobassa Road shows an African landscape in the background while two shady characters argue in the foreground, all rendered in black and white and plenty of shadows

From the first page of Mombassa Road (1989) Micheluzzi’s qualities are obvious. Like Pratt, he owns a debt to Milton Caniff and the great American adventure strip tradition and even in this early work it’s clear he’s a master of his art. To be honest, when I picked this up last year at the Haarlem stripdagen it was only because it was only a Euro and the cover looked interesting. Micheluzzi is an artist I knew little about otherwise, just one of those vaguely familiar names that popped up in comics zines and the like back in the eighties but I never paid attention to as I was into superheroes at the time. Having broadened my tastes in the decades since, I end up buying books like this just on the off chance, if they’re cheap enough. Didn’t read it though, until last Saturday.

Micheluzzi it turns out was a contemporary of Pratt, born in 1930, three years after Pratt and died in 1990, five years before him. He started his career much later than him though, when he was already in his forties, in the early seventies. From what I’ve found of his he specialised in the same sort of historical adventure stories as Pratt, working for the sort of Italian comics magazines that were a bit more quality than the blood ‘n tits fumetti series. Both working solo and with scenarists, he created several such series for various magazines, as well as several stand alone, longer stories about actual historical incidents, like L’uomo del Tanganyka, about the German struggle in South-West Africa during WWI.

Johnny Focus

Mombassa Road is a Dutch translation of three of Micheluzzi’s earliest stories, Starring Johnny Focus, whom he created in 1974. Focus is a photo reporter in post-war but still colonial Kenya. Square jawed, blonde and unshaven he’s your typical hero moving through typical pulp plots. In the first story of the three he gets caught up with a pair of thieves who stole diamonds from a local Masai tribe. One of them shoots the other but fails to kill him, while he himself ends up in quicksand, which is where Focus finds him. The rest of the story is a game of cat and mouse between the surviving thief and Focus, until the Masai come to get their diamonds back. The remaining two stories pitch Focus against an ivor smuggling ring, while he also has to rescue a young woman from being devoured by a crocodil. She immediately falls in love, he’s not interested.

Even for 1974 this is old fashioned stuff. All the main characters are white, with the few actual Kenyans that we do encounter there as either victims for the villains or as deo ex machina as in the end of that first story. If not for the helicopter featured in the second story this could’ve just as well taken place in the thirties. You wonder why the Dutch publisher chose this series and these stories from it to feature in this collection. Especially because they’re from the middle of the original series and the last story ends with the ivory gang still on the loose. Micheluzzi had been published in Dutch before, e.g. the aforementioned L’uomo del Tanganyka, but these had been part of a broader reprint of the original Italian series L’uomo del Tanganyka had been a part of. This however was a deluxe standalone volume with no real editorial justification offered of why they choose these particular stories. As far as I’m aware this was the first and last time any of the Johnny Focus stories were translated into Dutch. The same publisher would instead start reprinting Micheluzzi’s Ross Benton series instead, not long after this was published.

Was there enough name recognition for Micheluzzi at the time that this made sense? Or did they bank on his art’s resemblence to that of Hugo Pratt, who they had published in the same Création series previously? As this was never covered in Stripschrift or any other Dutch fanzine as far as I can tell, I’ve got no idea even of how it was received. It can be very frustrating as a Dutch comics fan to retrace the history of why and how something got published.