4.5 stars out of 5
The Winter 2011 - Spring 2012 season featured some very diverse anime, including the kinky high-school romance, Mysterious Girlfriend X, and the Shinichiro Watanabe/Yoko Kanno jazz hit, Kids on the Slope. Another show that caught my eye was Lupin III: The Woman Called Fujiko Mine. My first encounter with the franchise began years ago, when I would stay up way past my bedtime, keeping one eye open to watch Adult Swim. I certainly don't remember seeing too much of Fujiko Mine back then, but after this latest Lupin III installment, she (and her breasts) have become unforgettable parts of my anime experience.
As the title suggests, the show is wholly devoted to answering a single question: who is Fujiko Mine? A thief? A spy? She's never in the same place twice, never doing the same thing twice. She's the immortal femme fatale, dressing up in myriad costumes she probably stole from someone powerful and wealthy. I don't know if Fujiko should be seen as an empowered woman who uses sex appeal to maneuver within patriarchal society, or a slave to the unfulfilled sexual needs of otaku audiences everywhere. The two categories aren't mutually exclusive, but just to play it safe, I'll allow female viewers to judge for themselves.
The anime's secondary cast is entirely male, brought together by the irresistible allure of Fujiko Mine's massive chest balloons. The men are all introduced through independent encounters with Fujiko, quickly proving themselves to be fleshed out characters with peculiar histories and personalities. Lupin III bumps into her while trying to steal a hallucinogenic drug from an island cult; she happens to be after the same drug. By the end of the first episode, the drug is unfortunately washed away into the ocean as the police arrive. Fujiko makes sure to quickly flee the scene, but not before Lupin manages to scrawl, “I will steal Mine Fujiko,” onto her inner thigh without her knowledge. Jigen Daisuke is a well-respected bodyguard for hire; Fujiko steals a gun from him under contract by his former lover, an Italian mob boss who desperately wants him killed. The man who makes the biggest impression on audiences is Goemon, a samurai so ridiculously skilled that I laughed every time he came on screen. He cuts speeding bullets in half and slices people's clothes off without cutting their flesh. He's the only character Fujiko Mine ever refers to as “Mr. Boyfriend.” These men occasionally meet, never under good circumstances, and quickly agree upon the fact that they dislike each other. Those who are familiar with the rest of the Lupin III mythos will enjoy seeing the origins of these iconic characters.
When it comes to style, The Woman Called Fujiko Mine is second to none. Place it among an anime pantheon of aesthetic cool, next to works like Cowboy Bebop (1998); The Animatrix (2003); Samurai Champloo (2004); Afro Samurai (2007) and Redline (2009), and its level of ambitious appeal towards Western audiences cannot go unnoticed. Fujiko Mine's faded color scheme recalls the very first Lupin III series made all the way back in 1971. Fujiko Mine also tries to look like traditional manga, relying on a shading style that mimics vigorously applied pen and ink. The shading is innovative, though at times distracting and not too attractive. The music maintains a 1960's - 70's atmosphere, using jazz and funk and throwing in funny James Brown-like interjections. The trumpet, saxophone, piano and plucked bass are mainstays, but instruments of all kinds are eventually introduced to create a palpable air of old school charm. As it turns out, the music producer is none other than Shinichiro Watanabe, a fact I only realized after seeing his name in the opening credits. No wonder the music was so good.
The early episodes play out like random misadventures in Fujiko Mine's life, connected through growing character relationships and little else. One episode focuses on Fujiko and Goemon's involvement in the Cuban Missile Crisis; another involves Lupin and Daisuke raiding an Egyptian tomb and narrowly avoiding booby trap death. Slowly these episodes coalesce into a narrative fixated on Fujiko's scattered childhood memories, all of which involve her being the subject of clandestine scientific experiments executed by men wearing owl masks. The plot doesn't develop until episode eight, an odd move for a thirteen episode show to make, but the genre savvy Lupin helps string the anime's various owl motifs together. The finale masterfully weaves events from the very first episode up until the last, revealing an elaborate plan that involves all of the show's characters and their seemingly insignificant contributions. There are the inevitable fillers, but they're almost always entertaining. Leave it to Lupin to never allow for a dull moment.
The Woman Called Fujiko Mine is a far cry from the stereotypical glossy, cute and slightly perverted anime we're used to. This show was made with adults in mind, or older teens who can follow the patient pacing noir-detective stories require. There aren't any 'good guys' or 'bad guys', but people who are united through sexual attraction, monetary promise, tragic histories and bloodlust. As I mentioned earlier, there's the issue of how audiences are supposed to receive Fujiko Mine as well. Stating that she is a hyper sexual male fantasy who is nude in almost every episode is an obvious truth; Lupin refers to her as being “national treasure class... a marionette of real elaborate workmanship.” What impression do real women get from this promiscuous liberated thief, anatomically exaggerated but able to get anything she wants by flashing both men and women alike? Does Fujiko truly have agency? They're loaded questions that are partially answered by the end of the show, but ultimately audiences are left to ponder on these issues. To paraphrase Fujiko Mine herself, "What's a woman without mystery?"
The Woman Called Fujiko Mine is dark, mature and complex, with characters that are carefree and compelling enough to see us through to the unpredictable finale. This is an excellent anime, an instant classic, markedly different from its peers.
- Elijah
- Elijah
No comments:
Post a Comment