What I’ve been watching — Spring 2020

With the spring season of anime on its last legs, let’s take a look at what I’ve been watching each week. It’s not a lot. Thanks to our friend Covid-19 a fair few series were postponed and while I theoretically had more time to watch stuff, what with being stuck at home all day every day, in practise I more often than not lacked the energy to do so. You will therefore notice a bit of a trend in the series I did keep watching week by week. Presented in order of which I’d watch the first,

Otome Game no Hametsu Flag shika Nai Akuyaku Reijou ni Tensei Shiteshimatta…
Bakarina meets heroine
I’d been looking forward to this, having read both the manga and the original light novels. The animation itself is a bit underwhelming, but as an adaptation it has been great. The essential idiocy of Bakarina shone through and seeing her effortlessly and inadvertently built up her bisexual harem week by week has been great. I really like Bakarina’s character design; you could see she could’ve made a really imposing villainess if she wasn’t such a cinnamon roll. Every week it has been a delight to hang out with Bakarina and her crew, even when the plot kicked in. It’s cozy, funny and occassionally even touching.

Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai? Tensai-tachi no Ren’ai Zunousen
Kaguya-sama is very cute
The second season of two idiots too prideful to admit to the other they are in love with them is just as good as the first one. I like the super serious morality committee member addition to the cast, altering the dynamics somewhat. Most of the stories still end with Kaguya-sama self destroying, which is always fun, or the president’s paranoia getting the worst of him. What I’m most impressed by this season though is the animation, which has only improved from the first season. There’s a real playfulness to it, a willingness to experiment that make similar stories stand out from each other.

Princess Connect! Re:Dive
Princess Connect episode ten: our heroes are turned into pudding except for Pecorine
Take yet another wildly popular Cygames mobile game, create an anime of it. Then make the usual male audience stand-in protagonist so amnesiac he’s barely functions and focus on what would’ve been his harem in another series instead. Crazy isn’t it? There are some hints of dreaded plot here and there, but for the most part these are low stakes adventures in one of the nicer fantasylands. I love each of the three main girls. Pecorine is a cheerful glutton who befriends everybody she meets. Kokkoro is a sweet cinnamon roll, happy to take care of the protagonist hero. Finally Kyaru, the resident cat girl, is there to add a little bit of cynicism to the crew. the latest episode saw them all turned to puddings by a ghost with a lust for this particular dessert. That’s basically all you need to know.

Nami yo Kiitekure
Minare emoting
One night after being dumped by her boyfriend, whom she also had lent a considerable sum of money to, Koda Minare spills her troubles to a cool older dude in a bar. Who turns out to be a radio producer who had recorded the whole thing and broadcast it on local radio. That’s the start of Minare’s brilliant radio career as she gets involved in stranger and stranger circumstances made worse by her personality, then makes shows out of it. Frankly, this series lives by the voice work of Sugiyama Riho, who does a very good job as Minare. Everything else is so-so, but her acting is what keeps me coming back each week. I can’t imagine watching this dubbed.

Toaru Kagaku no Railgun T
Kongou Mitsuko
I’ve always liked Railgun more than Index. Railgun is more grounded, less likely to go off on absurd tangents and Misaka Mikoto is just more likeable than Touma. The current series has suffered a bit from Covid-19 delays, with episode 16 delayed until the end of July, but so far I’ve enjoyed it. Separating Mikoto from her usual friends and having her depend on Kongou Mitsuko was brilliant. I like Kongou; there’s a good friend hiding behind that ojosama laugh of hers. The series isn’t perfect, with Mikoto too often a victim rather than the hero and the villains are not very interesting. But on the whole this is again a fun series.

Akagi Squared — Friday Funnies

Akagi Squared is what you get when you create an Azur Lane fan comic, lay it out like an American newspaper strip and apply a Bill Wattersoneqsue, Calvin & Hobbes inspired sensibility to it:

akagi Squared: that Calvin and Hobbes feel

Originally published on Reddit, the strip is now also available on Mangadex. The inspiration for this was an event in the game last year, in which for …reasons kid versions of some of the most popular ship girls were created. Ethan Forsythe took that idea and ran with it. Akagi-chan herself is a happy little floof who just wants the love of her big sister, but her original doesn’t want anything to do with her. One thing leads to another and she defects to the American faction.

Both the art style and the stories remind me of Bill Watterson’s work on Calvin & Hobbes. It has the same sort of anarchistic humour, just cuter. As it is a fan comic, it requires some knowledge of the game and its characters, but on the whole I feel you could enjoy it without this knowledge too.

Infinite Stratos II — one good scene, forget the rest

Infinite Stratos II has one good scene and this is it

There’s a cute scene at the end of Infinite Stratos II episode ten. One of the main haremettes has spent most of the episode attemping to learn to cook, in the process putting most of her rivals in the hospital by accident. Finally, it’s the protagonist’s turn to teach her and he wisely decides that they’re going to make rice balls. When she struggles making a rice ball, he moves behind her and gently guides her hands to do it properly. Which leads to her self-immolating on the spot, our dense hero having no clue why she gets all flustered. It’s a sweet moment, romantic and actually funny as well. A standout scene in a series that usually goes for the most cliched of harem antics.

Infinite Stratos is a “only boy in magic school” harem show, only here the magic is mecha exoskeletons that normally only women can operate. The protagonist, Orimura Ichika, is the only boy in the world who can do it too. But unlike most such protagonists, there’s a good reason for him being so special. It turns out the inventor of the Stratos is the older sister of his childhood friend, who put in a special exception just for him. There is some sort of loose plot about his status as the sole male Stratos wearer in the background of the series, but you can ignore it. The real focus is on those harem antics.

Which are mostly a pain. The endless scenes of Ichika doing something “perverted” by accident only to be hit for it are on Love Hina levels of unfunny. Ichika being dense as one of his harem wants to jump his bones bores quickly too. It’s a bit strange how all these harem shows never show their protagonist actualy enjoying his harem. Maybe just the idea of being attractive to multiple girls is enough for its intended audience? Let’s be clear: Infinite Stratos is not a good show. Not even if all you’re looking for is some harem anime fun. Yet the original was just entertaining enough to watch all the way through. Likewise, this sequel was there when I couldn’t be bothered to watch anything that demanded actual attention. Just a pity it didn’t have more moments like this.

At least it would make some good doujins.

Bruce Springsteen: queer icon

I can see it.

Cover of Born in the USA with the Springsteen butt

More seriously, Naomi Gordon-Loebl in the Nation:

Which raises a difficult question: What exactly is so queer about Springsteen? Is it his extreme butchness, so practiced and so precise that he might as well have learned it from the oldest lesbian at a gay bar? Is it because his hard-earned, roughly hewn version of love is recognizable to those of us for whom desire has often meant sacrifice? Or is it something simpler? Do many queers love Springsteen because nearly every song he has produced in his 50-year career reflects a crushing, unabiding sense of alienation and longing—and what could be more queer than that?

The story of Bruce Springsteen is well known. Two albums that made him and the E-Street Band Jersey stars, a breakthrough album after the band got tweaked a bit with Born to Run, crowned the future of rock and roll, then fucked over by his first manager and forbidden from recording for a few years. The band spent the three years between Born to Run and Darkness on the Edge of Town touring, honing their craft. Once they re-emerged, older and more cynical, most of Bruce’s original optimism had disappeared.



It’s that backstory that makes his music so much more grounded than many of his rock contemporaries. His songs don’t offer fantasies, though they can offer hope. His most famous hit sounds so much like a patriotic anthem Ronald Reagan wanted it as a campaign song, but is actually a seering indictment of the realities of his “Morning in America”. Even at his most insufferable, on Human Touch/Lucky Town he still can’t quite forget his working class roots. He walks the walk too: doing fund raisers for the Democrats, tours for Amnesty International and the like. He has spoken out against police violence and for Black Lives Matter and of course wrote the above song about the murder of Amadou Diallo. He isn’t perfect, but his heart is in the right place.

I became a fan when I was ten, eleven. One of the first albums of his I owned, was the live boxset he brought out in 1985, a compilation of ten years of touring. That was at the height of his popularity, deep in the dark heart of Reagan America and what’s on it? Woody Guthrie’s “This Land is Your Land”, Edwin Starr’s “War”, a warning that “because in 1985, blind faith in your leaders, or in anyone can get you killed”. He’s deeply subversive on a level I didn’t understand then, but unconsciously seeped into me.

Naomi Gordon-Loebl argues that the pain he puts in his songs is what makes him resonate with queer people like her. Not being queer myself I can’t judge, but to me he is the lightning example of how to be butch, how to be masculine without being macho. It’s a masculinity that is available to anybody who feels attracted to it, not reserved just for cis men. It’s part of what keeps me coming back to Bruce Springsteen again and again too.

Welt Am Draht — Sci-Fi Sundaze

Welt Am Draht is basically what you get if you imagine The Matrix done in 1973, directed by a German auteur director more interested in philosophy than action and made as a two part television movie for a West German television channel.



How can you know the impact of a movie like this, fortyseven years after the fact and with its own remake having come out in the same year as The Matrix, itself already twentyone years old? I’m sure you can guess the core idea of this movie just from me having compared it to The Matrix. And yes, this is a movie about reality as a simulation, and yes that is the big reveal at the middle of it. But that television audience which sat down to watch it that October night in 1973, what would they have made of it? Was this intended to have been a surprise, or something that you were expected to have deduced from the hints the movie dropped, long before the protagonist did?

Wehlt am Draht: gorgeous office sets

Another thing difficult to judge: the set dressing. This is a gorgeous office, sumptuous in its “seventies retrofuturism” as the Criterion trailer has it. But would you have seen it that way had you watched it in 1973, when all this would be far more the stuff of everyday life, or was this absurd even for 1973? Certainly the outsized ties our protagonist wears wouldn’t have been that ludicrous in their original context as they seem now. In any case throughout the movie I found myself admiring the sets and cinematography as much as I followed the plot. It is all so incredibly lush, so rich. As such it slots in neatly with the seventies science fiction cinema boom of big budget, big sets movies. But unlike some, it has more going for it than that.

Wehlt am Draht: sterile clutter

The director, Rainer Werner Fassbinder, was one of the giants of West-German cinema; this is his only science fiction movie. It’s interesting how he manages to avoid the pitfalls of science fiction movie making that so many contemporary movies fell into. Set in the present day, present time, it has no outlandish costuming (those flared ties notwithstanding) nor much easily dated sci-fi gadgetry. It doesn’t waste time and credibility explaining how its central conceit works, but rather focuses on working through its implications. If we’re capable of creating a computer simulation that is so realistic that its inhabitants never suspect that they are living in one, who is to say we ourselves are not living in one too?

Wehlt am Draht: mirrored images

Welt Am Draht is a slow, slow movie. As said, it takes its protagonist an hour and a half of the movie to get the realisation that indeed he’s not living in any real world. That’s almost the same running time as The Thirteenth Floor its remake and it still has two hours more to run. But while it is slow, it never feels slow, because it uses its running time to throroughly consider that idea of living in a simulation, what it would mean to discover that you do so. Though it flirts with the traditional idea of that sort of revelation driving you mad, it never quite gets there. It even has a happy ending.

Wehlt am Draht: watching the watchers

Welt Am Draht ends with the protagonist’s escape from his simulacrum to what’s presumably the real world. The problem of the simulacrum remains unsolved, its philosophical questions swapped for a more mundane love affair. With no real catharsis, this is an unsettling movie, much more so than most of the other movies mining the same vein of technopessimism and paranoia that came out at the same time. Because it’s set in a world that’s recognisably our contemporary world, the feeling of alienation brought on by the high modernist clutter in the otherwise sterile office landscape it mostly takes part in, works so well. Because it keeps the futuristic to a minimum, the distortions caused by it hit all the harder when it is introduced.

Wehlt am Draht: glitches in the matrix

The use of mirrors and other reflecting surfaces by Fassbinder to shoot his characters in, the extraordinary stillness of the supporting cast in crowd scenes until called into action by the script, the way the protagonist constantly keeps moving, a discordant note among the rest of the cast, it all adds to this alienation. Especially those opening minutes made me uncomfortable watching, the thought kept nagging that something was wrong with this world, without ever knowing why. The repeated use of cabaret, with all its intonations of queerness, just reinforced this feeling. What it reminded me of was not so much The Matrix, but rather Videodrome, whic is similarly unsettling. It is very much a movie you would need to see if you like the latter.