Saturday 19 December 2020

Drowning in Nineties Anime, Pt. 90

I suppose there are less logical ways to close out this busy year of vintage anime reviews than one last Dragon Ball Z post.  Whether or not I like the series (and honestly, I'm not fully decided on that question) it's been a big part of my 2020 experience; actually, I hadn't realised just how much so until I checked and realised I've covered all the Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z films in the space of barely six months.  Well, okay, not quite all; we have one more to go, but the only self-imposed rule I've set for these posts that I'm yet to break is keeping them down to four reviews apiece, and wouldn't you know it but there's no way to divide thirteen films by four.

This, of course, is deeply irritating to my OCD brain, and let's hope Wrath of the Dragon is something pretty damn special, since it's going to annoy me no end to have to bunch it in with three unrelated titles.  But that's a stupid worry for another day, so in the meantime, let's take a look at films nine through twelve, those being Dragon Ball Z: Bojack Unbound, Dragon Ball Z: Broly - Second ComingDragon Ball Z: Bio-Broly, and Dragon Ball Z: Fusion Reborn...

Dragon Ball Z: Bojack Unbound, 1993, dir: Yoshihiro Ueda

A mere four months separated the arrival of the ninth Dragon Ball Z film Bojack Unbound from the release of the eighth, Broly the Legendary Super Saiyan, which I (checks notes) liked to a surprising degree.  Four months isn't a long time between movies, but Bojack Unbound feels like a very different beast for much of its running time, and there's the sense that a lot's changed in the show.  I mean, was Goku dead in the last one?  (Checks notes harder.)  No, it would appear that the main character of Dragon Ball Z was not, in fact, dead the last time we caught up with him.

In other film series, that might be important.  Here, it's a minor blip that no-one much appears to care about, and certainly not Goku himself, who seems quite content goofing off and playing cards in the afterlife.  In the meantime, his friends and family are all commiserating his untimely demise by entering into a fighting tournament, as you do.  In fairness to them, there's a big cash price and the opportunity to confront the legendary hero Mr. Satan at the end of it, and surely it's what Goku would have wanted?  Actually, we know it's what he'd want, since he gets to watch the contest on TV and cheer them on.

This is a fair summation of the level of ridiculousness Bojack Unbound is operating at, at least in its first half.  The fighting contest is treated with almost zero seriousness, which is a tremendous relief from a franchise that tends to take its fighting very seriously indeed, and Mr. Satan is certainly not fearsome final boss material, since he spends most of his time freaking out over how utterly outmatched he is and trying to run away.  And the combined results are fun of a sort we haven't seen around these parts in a fairly long while, and which generally gets relegated to comic interludes that don't particularly work.  If, like me, you much preferred the trivial goofiness of the original Dragon Ball to the interminable battling to save the world of Dragon Ball Z, this is all quite a delight.

It can't last, of course.  Every franchise has its rules, and in this case, the rules say the entire second half has to be a big old fight, so that's what we get.  It's not among the series' best, it offers up one of the most disposable antagonists yet, and its all the more frustrating for spoiling a film that up until that point had been so enjoyably silly.  But it's also not horrible, and the animation is impressive enough to keep it on the right side of watchable.  (Actually, Yoshihiro Ueda's directorial debut marks a notable shift to a cleaner, crisper style; it's not necessarily better, but it looks a good deal more modern.)  What redeems the back half, and benefits the film greatly in general, is the lack of Goku.  Nothing against the guy, but it's an unexpected pleasure to see the supporting cast thrust into the spotlight, and his absence makes everything seem that bit more inventive, even the parts that are otherwise deeply familiar.  Altogether, this is the closest we've come to the Dragon Ball Z movie I've been dreaming of, the one with the courage to eschew the strangling formulaicness that's been present from the start, and while it's a shame that couldn't have gone further, it's enough to make for one of the more memorable entries.

Dragon Ball Z: Broly - Second Coming, 1994, dir: Shigeyasu Yamauchi

In multiple ways, Broly - Second Coming feels like something of a soft reboot, or an attempt to nudge the franchise in a fresh direction.  For a start, we have a new opening sequence and theme for, I believe, the first time since the series began, and for another start, the focus is squarely on a younger generation of the cast, with the grown-ups nowhere to be found.  Our heroes this time are Goku's two sons Gohan and Goten, his fellow Saiyan's son Trunks, and Videl, the daughter of Mr. Satan, who I guess was a significant character in the series at this point, despite his lack of impact on the films?  At any rate, the overall sense is partly of a bit of a general spit and polish and partly of a bid to go down a Dragon Ball Z: The Next Generation route, perhaps with the goal of roping in younger viewers.

So it's a weird choice on the face of it to resurrect a former villain, especially one who was so enormously boring, and especially in such a credibility-shattering fashion as Broly - Second Coming decides to go with.  Broly, who we last saw, I don't know, dying in space or something, has apparently crash-landed on Earth, but he's been unconscious for years beneath a frozen lake because of reasons, and he's woken up now by Goten's whining over an empty stomach, which reminds him of how much he hated Goku when he was a new-born baby ... a new-born baby, presumably, with a really good memory and a really long vengeful streak.  Anyway, that's more than enough for our favourite monosyllabic slab of meat to start attempting to murder our young heroes, and this being Dragon Ball Z, ample setup for a thirty minute fight scene.

Now, the rationale may have been that there was a certain inherent drama in pitting a bunch of kids against a foe their parents barely managed to beat, and certainly the idea of unleashing Broly - who, as much as I dislike the character, is at least pretty damn intimidating - against children would, you'd think, raise the stakes, if nothing else.  However, that's not really what happens, since Broly - Second Coming refuses to take any of this too seriously.  If we divide the Dragon Ball Z movies into two camps, those that have some semblance of a plot and those that are essentially just enormous scraps, then this is more the latter, except that the light-hearted goofiness and the limited narrative setup from the first half heavily inform the rest, with what gravity there is (and the obligatory "Oh no, our heroes are clearly all beaten, how will they possibly get out of this one?!" montage) relegated to the last ten minutes.

This, I think, is the right choice, and the one that just about elevates Broly - Second Coming into the franchise's upper tier.  The comedy isn't especially funny, and it sure as hell isn't sophisticated, but with the hopelessly boring Broly as an antagonist, it makes for a satisfying contrast.  You suspect that writer Takao Koyama was fully aware of Broly's dramatic limitations, and reducing him to the status of a shouty, explodey object that the plot proceeds to happen around is a wise move on his part.  Indeed, as Dragon Ball Z gigantic fight climaxes go, this is one of the better ones, by virtue of having a fair few moving parts and a degree of narrative progression.  Granted, it backs itself into a definite corner, with two obvious deus ex machina by which this wholly one-sided fight seems likely to end, and kudos to Broly - Second Coming, I suppose, for going with both of them.  None of this makes it an exceptional movie, but it does make it a fun way to waste an hour, and a gentle attempt to do something novel with Dragon Ball Z's deeply inflexible formulas is definitely preferable than no attempt at all.

Dragon Ball Z: Bio-Broly, 1994, dir: Yoshihiro Ueda

What a strange little nothing of a film Dragon Ball Z: Bio-Broly is!  And that shouldn't come as a surprise, given that plenty of these have been brief, lightweight, trivial, or a combination of the three, but coming on the back of a run of movies that bucked the trend in one way or another, it's all the more noticeable that Bio-Broly just doesn't seem to have a lot of reason to exist.  Why bring Broly back immediately and for a third time?  Why bring him back as a slime-monster that has even less personality than his previous incarnation?  Why anchor that to a non-story about one of Mr. Satan's old school rivals trying to take revenge on him, especially given how much that angle fizzles to nothing once the action starts?  And from the perspective of someone who only knows these characters through the films, since when is Mr. Satan important enough to warrant such attention anyway?  I guess what I'm saying is, what the hell was anyone thinking when they made this?  I mean, other than, "Hey, you know what makes money, Dragon Ball Z films!"?

And look, it's not horrible, so don't let me give that impression.  It's not even bad, really.  It's certainly messy, and it cycles through at least four protagonists over the course of a forty-five minute running time, which is some decidedly untidy storytelling, but it's also par for the Dragon Ball Z course and thus not worth getting too wound up over.  Plus, in among the film's carelessly slammed together three acts, all of which conform to totally different genres, we do end up with a final chapter that's kind of a neat disaster movie, which is something we haven't seen from the franchise in a while.  In a series that's as obsessed with punching as this one, threats that can't be punched, like the absorbent slime that plays a big role in the climax, are good for wrinkling the formula in interesting ways, and I'm all in favour of interesting formula-wrinkling.

Really, though, this is awfully inconsequential, and seems to know it; was that why Broly was chucked in, to try and give a bit of unearned impact to a plot that would otherwise be so forgettable?  Add to that what was a minor issue in the last entry but is far more noticeable here, the fact that the younger cast members that now appear to be the focus really aren't convincingly powerful enough to be dealing with these sorts of threats, and I almost find myself wishing for Goku back, novel though this lengthy absence of his has been.  But what I'd really like is - and having looked at the running times of the two remaining movies, I fear this is optimistic! - a return to something more substantial-feeling, in the way Broly the Legendary Super Saiyan was.  Or failing that, I'd take a film that doubles down on the wackiness and humour as Bojack Unbound did.  But Bio-Broly offers up the worst of both worlds, albeit in a fairly harmless and inoffensive package, and surely no-one's crying out for that?

Dragon Ball Z: Fusion Reborn, 1995, dir: Shigeyasu Yamauchi

It's maddening to discover that we could have had eleven Dragon Ball Z films that were like Fusion Reborn, when what we've actually had was eleven films that were largely indistinguishable, with the odd special entry at least tweaking an overbearing formula in ingenious fashion.  And arguably, what's so brilliant about this twelfth movie is that, though it feels radically different to anything that's come before, it doesn't get there by flinging out the formula but by assuming we know it by heart and using that instead as a launch pad to somewhere far less predictable.  It has a first half that's mostly setup and a second half that's mostly a fight against a single, apparently unbeatable opponent, and it does both those things as well as any prior entry in the series, but for almost the first occasion, that's only a small part of what's on offer.

That we're in for something different is apparent from the beginning, which finds Goku in a fighting tournament in the afterlife, before rapidly shunting to another section of that selfsame afterlife, where the sort of clumsy mistake you might imagine would have happened at least once before in however many millennia this place has existed causes all the evil that's ever been to coalesce in the body of one teenaged oni.  The resulting creature, Janemba, will be our major threat for the movie, but meanwhile, the subsequent disruption has brought the dead back to life, which leaves all our less deceased heroes with problems of their own.  And while a brief fake-out leads us to suppose that means fighting the reincarnation of significant foe Frieza, what it actually amounts to is mostly Goten and Trunks battling Hitler and an army of Nazis for the purposes of comic relief.  Because Fusion Reborn is that kind of a movie.

There's plenty of weirdness for weirdness' sake here, and the film embraces it wholeheartedly, down to the level of experimenting with the animation in ways I'd never have dared imagine Dragon Ball Z would indulge in: those Nazi-fighting scenes, for example, are presented in a whole different style of their own, one that looks as though the characters are cardboard cutouts stuck onto the backgrounds.  But even when nothing that outright odd is going on, Fusion Reborn feels conscious of how goofy these designs are in a way none of the previous films have hinted at, and responds by dialling them up to eleven.  It's not a great-looking movie exactly, and indeed there are occasional shots and elements toward the start that are pretty crummy, but there's something terrifically exciting about a Dragon Ball Z film that gets how bizarre this all is and runs with it.  Really, that's the major success here, coupled with the aforementioned acceptance that, because we know inside out how these things function, that knowledge can be used to toy with our expectations.

Granted, it's not anything close to perfect, nor do I get the impression anyone wanted it to be.  Were it not for the fact that at heart it's basically doing the same things all the previous movies have been doing, albeit in more imaginative ways and with a healthy dose of surrealism chucked in, the approach could easily have ended up a total mess.  That aside, there are aspects that flat-out don't succeed; Shunsuke Kikuchi's score is pretty fine when it's being serious but obnoxious when it's aiming to emphasise the humour, and as noted above, experimenting with the animation occasionally just leaves it looking rough and unfinished.  Nonetheless, in the grand scheme of a series that's been spectacularly awful at taking chances, Fusion Reborn is quite the revelation: a film that understands what in Dragon Ball Z works and understands equally that it's not cool to keep making the same movie over and over again, but that such a legacy is an unprecedented opportunity to mess with an audience in all sorts of engaging ways.

-oOo-

As hinted in the introduction, though I wouldn't claim to be a Dragon Ball Z convert, it's hard to ignore how many of these I've enjoyed quite a bit.  My plan had been to tear through them for the sake of completism and then sell the box sets on, but that's been scuppered by how there's at least one film I really like in each.  And this set has already produced two, so, however Wrath of the Dragon turns out, it's evidently a keeper: Bojack Unbound I'll probably return to eventually, and Fusion Reborn would be my series favourite were it not for the fact that, eight years later, Dragon Ball Z: Battle of Gods would be released, a movie so terrific that I'd cheerfully recommend it to even those like me who are ambivalent about this whole Dragon Ball Z business.

And, oh, hey, I just remembered that the TV specials exist and that I probably need to review them too at some point - and that even with those, I still don't have enough titles for another full post.  Goddammit, Dragon Ball Z!



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Monday 7 December 2020

Drowning in Nineties Anime, Pt. 89

I'm now more or less caught up with the backlog of these posts, which feels like about the most productive thing I've accomplished in 2020, though I hope to goodness it isn't really.  At any rate, I'd hoped to have the mess I'd created for myself back under control before Christmas, and it's certainly before Christmas, so I'm happy to call that a win.

As for what we're looking at, we're back with whatever I happened to grab off the shelf, with the trawl through the Black Jack OVA series drawing close to its sad and inevitable end, a popular favourite that's somehow passed me by until now, an early Manga Video release that's taken me forever to hunt down*, and a bit of an oddity to close things out on.  Which makes for, Black Jack: Trauma, Kimagure Orange Road OVA (Disk 1), Bounty Dog, and Fortune Quest: Journey to Terrason...

Black Jack: Trauma, 1998, dir: Osamu Dezaki

I won't reiterate at length what I've said elsewhere about the Black Jack OVA series.  It should be enough to note that it's one of the very highest high points of nineties anime, combining terrific storytelling with some superlative animation, and both in the hands of a director capable of real greatness doing perhaps the finest work of his career.  With six of the ten episodes reviewed, it's become more a matter of rating them comparatively, since none are anywhere near to bad, or even to mediocrity, and I struggle to imagine at this point that there are any major disappointments ahead.

Black Jack: Trauma is most definitely not a disappointment.  Returning after a two year gap, the show delivers one of its finer episodes, and also one that eschews the formula these things hew to more often than not, whereby super-surgeon Black Jack is recruited to investigate some bizarre and faintly supernatural medical anomaly that would defy the skill and knowledge of lesser mortals.  There's a bit of that here, in that the jumping-off point involves Black Jack being sent into a civil-war-stricken country to treat the granddaughter of a gangster, a little girl suffering with a rare heart disorder.  However, there's nothing fantastical about her condition - if you've been following along with the series, this is quite a shocking development in itself! - and the real drama is reserved for the second half, when Black Jack and the girl are back in America and caught up in medical complications of an entirely different nature.

To go into more detail than that would spoil the fun, if fun is really the word for a particularly cerebral, downbeat episode that only really brightens up for some comic interludes with Black Jack's pint-sized assistant Pinoko.  Suffice to say that the conflicts centre around Black Jack's outsider status as an unlicensed surgeon, not to mention his often mercenary approach to who he will or won't treat.  The character has a tendency to be something of a cipher, so it's rewarding to have a story that humanises him and delves into his morality and motivations, especially since it manages to do so without going so far as to dint the good doctor's mystique.  Here toward the middle of the series, it feels like just the right step, as does the noticeable shift in tone and content.  Black Jack's formula is of the rare sort that's unlikely to ever grow tired, and given how easy it would be to rely on, it's commendable that the makers were prepared to take chances on diversions like this.

Unfortunately, the ending is a mild letdown, simply because the central conflict is resolved too effortlessly and thus feels rather pat, though a neat little epilogue does a lot to redeem it.  It's a small misstep in the scheme of things, but one that would have been helped greatly by U.S. Manga Corp's sticking to handling this part as they did the preceding six.  This was the first of their releases to offer up a mere single episode, and not only was that a crummy move, it leaves us with a disk that's both exceptionally hard to find and was poor value for money even at its original price.  Take that together with how much it benefits from having seen the preceding episodes and I suppose Trauma is unlikely to be anyone's first port of call, which is a shame, because its bold attempt to do something different with a franchise that's already plenty different to begin with is a rare treat.

Kimagure Orange Road OVA (Disk 1), 1989-1991, dir's: Takeshi Mori, Shigeru Morikawa, Kôichirô Nakamura, Naoyuki Yoshinaga

It's telling, I think, that the blurb on the back of AnimEigo's Kimagure Orange Road OVA releases does a better job of summing up its concept and stakes than any of the four episodes presented on this first disk.  Of course, it's not unreasonable for an OVA to assume a degree of audience familiarity, and arguably it's my bad for supposing this would be as standalone as something like the Oh! My Goddess OVA.  But maybe it's not unreasonable, either, to assume that after watching four episodes of something, you'd have a clear sense of what, for example, the protagonist's convenient magical powers actually entailed, or which of the two female leads he was perpetually hanging around with was the one he's most interested in.

So forgive me if my own summation is a bit wobbly, but here goes: high-schooler Kyosuke is part of a cursed family - cursed, in this context, apparently meaning much the same as super-powered - and while he's sort of dating a girl named Hikaru, or at any rate she seems to believe so, he's also in love with her best friend Madoka, though he can't tell her or do anything about it for ... reasons, I guess?

Mind you, it's perfectly possible that most of the above won't have much bearing on any given episode.  The first, a giddy bit of fluff in which Kyosuke spends most of his time body-swapped into a goldfish, is the clear winner, probably because it balances the various elements most gracefully: there's a solid little story, some humour, a hint of romance, some supernatural shenanigans, and a dash of perving at naked women, which judging by that cover art and the remaining episodes, certainly seems to have been a meaningful component of the Kimagure Orange Road formula.  The second, conversely, is definitely the worst, and not only because its setup boils down to, "Boy, lesbians are scary, huh?"  Although, yeah, mainly that.  The third is a run-of-the-mill ghost story of the sort that's padded out a thousand anime series, though it's a solid stab at that tried and tested subgenre.  And the fourth is, for some reason, a gritty kidnapping thriller set in Hawaii, which if nothing else had the merit of taking me by surprise.  If there's a twist, it's that Kyosuke has powers that could easily resolve the situation, but can't use them because presumably keeping them a secret is more important than his friends' lives or something.

Now, I get that Kimagure Orange Road was hugely influential, and I'm not saying I can't see why: the ingredients are familiar, no doubt in part because they were imitated ad nauseam, but that's not to say they're bad ingredients.  Love triangles can be good, and families with wacky magical powers can be good, and the show definitely looks nice, even if its aesthetic has dated it more than many a title from the back end of the eighties.  Heck, there's even the occasional spot of experimentation on the animation front, and I'm always in favour of that.  But, at the risk of being a jerk about a much-loved classic, the passage of three decades hasn't been kind; there just isn't a lot of meat on these bones compared with many of the shows that were huge at the time.  Compared with something like the ever-spinning web of characters and gags that was Ranma 1/2, there are only really two ideas on offer here, and this first half of the OVA series routinely gets distracted from both of them.

Bounty Dog, 1994, dir: Hiroshi Negishi

Do you hate the colour yellow?  Then there's a fair chance you'll hate Bounty Dog, too.  Certainly contemporary reviewers seem to have fixated on the unusual choices that went into its colour scheme to an inordinate degree.  It's undoubtedly novel: most scenes err toward being monochromatic, with often yellow dominating and then a splash of red, blue, or green in there as well.  Then again, some shots are predominantly red, too, and there's a clear codification that justifies all this, with each primary colour being pinned to one or two associations and / or settings.  But yellow most of all, and most straightforwardly: Bounty Dog, you see, is set on the moon, and somewhere along the line, the decision was evidently made that if you lived on the moon, everything would be very yellow all the time.  And not just any yellow, either: a faintly nauseating, acidic shade that does a fine job of replicating the look of crummy electrical lighting, and an equally fine job of making its locations seem unpleasant and wrong and built by humans under less than ideal circumstances.

Was this, as those reviewers back in the nineties tended to suggest, a cost-cutting measure?  Perhaps so.  But personally I'd argue for a world in which all cost-cutting measures were so bold.  Via one simple decision, the makers of Bounty Dog accomplished what many arguably better works have tried and failed to nail: they really do sell the notion that these events are happening on a sphere that isn't Earth and in a time that's not our own.  Also, if the goal was to keep a limited budget for where it would be most productive, then job done: the animation is routinely terrific, with an unusually realistic and detailed aesthetic, some decidedly slick action, and particularly lovely mechanical designs, which the credits attribute to the legendary manga creator Masamune Shirow, of Ghost in the Shell fame, though the internet is hazy on the fact.  I'm inclined to believe them, though: this both looks and feels like Shirow had a hand in it, or at at any rate was an influence.  And speaking of influences, I'd be amazed if director Negishi wasn't thinking of Mamoru Oshii at least a little: the closest analogue I could think of while watching was his early OVA series Dallos, but there are definite notes of Patlabor too.

If there's a reason Bounty Dog isn't on a par with any of those real or potential influences, it's the story: not that it's bad but that it's beyond what a two-episode OVA can do justice to.  There are interesting ideas here, and if none are desperately fresh, the particular combination and the manner in which we're brought to them is fairly exciting.  But with under an hour to play with, Negishi is obliged to hit the ground running and rarely let the pace slip, and it does the material no favours.  At points, it feels positively schizophrenic, flinging up ideas that seem decidedly mystical and then revising them in science-fictional terms before we've had a chance to get our heads around them in the first place.  Even having watched carefully, I'm still not certain where that line ought to be drawn and what was the real nature of the threat our three heroes were facing.  And perhaps needless to say, fifty-five minutes doesn't give us much opportunity to get to know them as characters, either, even with so small a central cast.

All told, though, I liked Bounty Dog quite a bit.  Not all its decisions pay off, but there's a definite sense that they were all actual decisions.  As much as it's reminiscent of other works from the period, it's also very much its own thing, and every element feels as though it's been thought through with unusual specificity and care.  There is, for an example, a vehicle called the manslave that our protagonist drives, and not only does it not look precisely like anything you've seen, it looks as though it was built for a real purpose that would make total sense in this setting.  In short, where Bounty Dog fails narratively, it's by offering too much rather than little; for all that I got to the end with plenty of questions, I don't doubt they were questions the creators could have answered given a few more minutes of running time.  At three episodes, I suspect this might have become a minor personal favourite.  At two, it still has plenty to offer, and I already look forward to revisiting it.

Fortune Quest: Journey to Terrason, 1997, dir: Eiichi Sato

One of the many rules I've tried to stick to with these reviews, not always successfully, is to avoid reviewing TV series, on the grounds that there are too many of them and they're largely too hard to find now.  However, I'm making an exception for the title that AnimeWorks released as Fortune Quest: Journey to Terrason because, while it's actually the first five episodes of the show Fortune Quest L, it's all that would ever be released in the West.  So for our purposes, and since I went to the trouble of picking it up, let's pretend it was simply a five episode OVA, shall we?

The funny thing is, there's not a lot of reason not to.  Those five episodes form a complete arc that sets the table for further adventures, but does a perfectly fine job of wrapping up its own story.  The show - the sequel to an earlier manga which itself had an OVA - is an exceedingly gentle pastiche of fantasy tropes, somewhat in the line of Slayers or Maze if you scrubbed out all the sex and innuendo and rounded off any sharp edges.  It follows a party of young adventures, of whom our focal point is the wonderfully named Pastel G. King, a cartographer with no sense of direction who keeps them funded by writing up their exploits as fiction.  Indeed, were this the sort of role-playing campaign it's nodding heavily toward, their party would last about five minutes: the other members include a fighter, a thief, a wizard who's both an elf and a small child and never does any actual magic, and a baby dragon named Shiro that's effectively a house pet.

It's Shiro who becomes the centre of these episodes, as, after some shenanigans with a kidnapping that don't amount to much, the friends find themselves press-ganged into a quest to - wait for it! - journey to Terrason, where the crooked town mayor of the local village hopes to have a wish granted by the dragon rumoured to reside there.  And since Shiro's a dragon too, everyone's happy to assume that there's a fair chance he'll end up meeting one of his parents; I guess dragons aren't especially common in this world, because otherwise that seems pretty dragonist.  Whatever the case, it's enough motivation for them to brave the various dangers along the way, including some bizarre fairies and a giant monster centipede.

Writing it out like that reminds me of how thin the narrative is, but then Fortune Quest: Journey to Terrason is much more interested in incident than plot.  Really, that's the only level on which pretending it's an OVA falls down; it's a bit too slight to watch in one go, and I definitely found my concentration waning by degrees.  It doesn't help that there's not much else to hold the attention: the animation is resolutely functional, the designs are uninspired and sometimes thoroughly shonky, and the music is mostly just okay, with the exception of a lovely closing theme that's an odd fit for the show.  What's most surprising, maybe, is how little any of that dints the moderate pleasures to be had in watching Fortune Quest: Journey to Terrason: its major virtue is how nice it is to be around, both in terms of the characters and its general ethos; in so much as there's a theme, it's that it's good to have friends and good friends should be valued and hung onto.  And in fairness, it's often amusing and has its share of entertaining ideas, so it's never remotely a chore to be around.  Which I guess can't be regarded as a recommendation, but in the crowded subgenre of anime fantasy comedy, I've definitely seen worse.

-oOo-

I've already watched Bounty Dog again, and it made a good bit more sense, while still feeling like it barrelled through its plot a lot faster than was healthy; nevertheless, it held up well and I feel good about my recommendation, while being faintly puzzled that it's not more fondly remembered.  Do people really hate the colour yellow that badly?  Elsewhere, Black Jack continues to be a strong contender for best OVA series ever, Kimagure Orange Road was quite the disappointment - without actually being especially bad - and Fortune Quest: Journey to Terrason fared about as well as five episodes of a TV series that I arbitrarily pretended were a self-contained story could be expected to.



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And which I then somehow ended up with two copies of on two different formats.  Anybody in the market for a VHS copy of Bounty Dog?