Saturday, August 27, 2022

Revue Starlight

    I fully understand why someone may enjoy Revue Starlight. And I can't in all honesty call the show outright bad... but the score reflects my personal enjoyment, and so it is the way it is.  This revue (yeah I fucking did that) will be focused mainly on the writing aspect of the show, as I think the other aspects have already been talked about to death, and frankly I don't think I have anything to add. I don't hold that high value for the visuals or the direction, in fact I think both fall flat in many cases, but in order to properly dissect each of those I'd have to clip and display many parts of the show, which would incidentally make this no longer a spoiler-free review, while also making me do a ton of work that I'm not interested in doing. I'm a wannabe writer, not an artist or an encoding junkie. But anyway.

    It's very appealing to certain demographics, especially to moe or idol lovers, and while Revue Starlight does not directly fit those either category I'd say it shares enough elements to call it "adjacent" to them. The structure of the show, the comedy, the themes, the visual aesthetic, and everything under the sun. I'd be very hard-pressed to find fans of Revue who aren't already fans of either category, or fans of either category who also enjoy Revue Starlight.

    And that's where the problem starts to show. When I read about Revue Starlight many years ago, I had the impression that it would be much similar to Revolutionary Girl Utena, but in a more modern stance, putting its own twist on it, much like Penguindrum but more extreme as it was made by different creators. What I actually received was far off; it learns the wrong lesson from Utena and is filled with those modern anime tropes I so dearly hate.

The Meat

    The first three episodes are what I'd probably call the worst in the entire show. It took me months to recover my motivation to watch anime again.

    While they introduce the main narrative of the main characters, it also places a much larger focus on the slice of life aspects than the rest of the show. This is, of course, an attempt to familiarize the audience with the characters' normal outer selves before delving into their deeper desires and character flaws. I do have an inherent problem with this approach, however it's become so commonplace these days that I simply can't fault a modern show that has this modern trope. A critique of post-K-ON slice of life can come another day (or never, really).

    These first three episodes gave me the impression that the rest of the show would also be structured similarly to these first three: the main characters are always present, and the show would, through them, develop the side characters, eventually closing off with the last couple episodes being dedicated solely to the main characters, with a lot of slice of life in between. Still campy and safe, but at least mildly interesting depending on what they do with the characters.

    The show turned into exactly what I was afraid of: a day in the limelight episodes which you could even go so far as characterize as lower-deck episodes. While the connotations of both terms are rather negative, in the anime industry depending on the genre they can be quite common. Though just the inherent function of them still stands true; it's a "low-effort" way to develop your side characters without having to so much as use the main characters. And this makes total sense, it becomes much harder to portray a close story with a side character when you have to somehow write the main character into the mix.

    But the resulting narrative is disconnected and muddled. You have many backstories and side stories that all serve just to fit the bare minimum of what it means to "develop" a character, but the connection to the main story of the main characters is so thin that if it had not existed then not much would be lost. So, in order to combat this, Revue Starlight introduces a solution that causes even more problems. Every character must reach the limelight, have a glimmer, have the passion to be the best, want to be the best. Every character is connected to the main theme, every character has the same motivation. Repeated and repeated every episode ad infinitum for the rest of the show as if the show doesn't trust that you'll understand its theme unless it's repeated twelve times. In this way, it's all "connected" back to the same theme, the same goal. A literal goal, not a metaphorical one.

    Now excuse me if this becomes crass but what is the point of writing a show where every character has the same motivation by the end of their character arc if not to be completely safe with its own concept? Am I so wrong for being pissed off at the fact that characters start off the episode interesting and end up being fit into the exact same mold as everyone else, practically becoming identical statues which are only differentiated by the various comedic "quirks" they hold? What the fuck is the point of shoving the same theme through every character, a theme which is so empty that I can only describe it as "unbridled optimism," a theme which holds so little complexity it can be understood by a five year old through reading one picture book?

    What you risk when you make narrative changes to the characters is the stability of a show. If sit-coms, for example, had character narrative arcs end in ways that impact the structure of the show, or their appearance on the show, the writing would have to change around it. Perhaps the absence of the character produces different dynamics among the cast. Perhaps the narrative arc changed the character so drastically that their dialogue with the other characters has to be different from when it used to.

    And so where does Revolutionary Girl Utena fit into this at all?

    It simply did not solve the original problem, or you could say it diverted the problem. Instead of making the episodes entirely about the side characters, it uses the main character as the solution, or to be more concrete as the ending point for the episode narrative arc. This way, the connection can range from being extremely thin (as in Utena Tenjou is only the solution) to a close connection (Utena Tenjou is both the solution and directly related to the arc at hand). By the end of the episode, Utena must win. Utena is the only winner, regardless of the ambition of the other characters.

    But this still doesn't fully answer the question. All Utena characters are striving to "revolutionize the world." Such a system sounds very similar to Revue Starlight's stage. All of them must duel each other in order to reach this one same goal. That is, unless you devoid the goal from being literal in the first place. This is Revue Starlight's final nail in the coffin: the lack of allegory.

    Revolutionary Girl Utena's narrative works so well because to "revolutionize the world" does not mean to actually cause revolution within the real-world and change societal structures. Instead, it's a metaphor for self-actualization for the character, for growth of the character. It no longer becomes a battle for the top, but rather a battle for the self, and it's not competitive amongst the cast; rather, it is entirely individual. Again, Utena must win. She is the only winner. Thus, by extension, every character must lose. By losing, they lose both the flaw and the motivation to "revolutionize the world." They grow into a distinct character, who no longer holds the same obsession as everyone else.

    Revue Starlight voids this fact and takes it much too literally; while the stage itself is not grounded in practical reality, the goal is. It's tangible, and something genuinely obtainable that will have real-world effects, as demonstrated in one of the character narratives throughout the series. While it's possible to attempt to attach allegories to this goal and the Starlight stage itself, the simple fact that this is so grounded in reality stops those interpretations from holding much weight. 

    Unlike Revolutionary Girl Utena, this fight is not centered around the individual act of self-growth, but rather an actual fight for this "wish," and how only "one" can attain it. The moments of "growth" are not a loss of their past selves, but rather how they regain their "glimmer," or their motivation to attain this goal. This is not character development. I cannot, in all good sense, say that a character has gone through development when the basis of an episode is about removing a part of their character they've had since the start of the show, and the episode is about them regaining it, ending up in the same place they've started. This is literally just resetting characters so you can expose their backstories in a way that doesn't feel forced, except in doing so it just makes it feel even more forced.

    However, applying this to all characters would make this a disingenuous statement. Because there is one genuine exception. A character arc that spanned three episodes, and while many, and I mean many ironic statements are spouted about change during this arc, it does break its own mold in a way I didn't expect. It did not particularly blow me away with depth, as the subject matter/motivation at hand is for one overplayed in the medium, and secondly it doesn't play its cards in a way that you wouldn't expect upon the first episode of the arc. But I think its existence gives me at least some hope that Revue Starlight was aware of the issues it itself produced in the earlier episodes, and decided to give us at least ONE shining hope... even if the moment the arc ends, they go back to the exact same slice of life interactions and jokes they've had since the start of the show. Sigh. I fucking hate bananas.

   The best way I can describe Revue Starlight characters is by taking a couple cardboard boxes, painting them different colors and stamping different addresses on them. Making sure they're closed. One by one I open them to reveal what's inside. They're equally empty. The audience then goes and picks the box they think looks the prettiest or has the funniest address stamped on it. They open it, place their baggage inside it, and proceed to go up to every single person they meet and talk about how the box is "super relatable" and "literally me." Of course it fucking is. There wasn't anything in the goddamn box before they decided to put their own shit in there.

The Ending

    I've tried my best to keep it spoiler-free thus far, but this is where I'm going to dip my toes into a bit of spoilers. I never expected to even need this section, but I must thank Revue Starlight for giving me more content to write.

    A lot of the ending surrounds, as is par for the course with this show, a repetition of events that came before. Once again, Karen has to chase Hikari because of their promise, but this time... uh, this time... it's the same thing? I seriously cannot see the narrative difference between these two arcs in what they accomplish, except for the fact that the latter takes place at the end of the show and looks more grandiose. It also introduces elements clearly inspired by Madoka, swapping some of the roles around, but misunderstanding why it worked so well, and instead forcibly inserting it for window dressing's sake I guess?

    But I think, above all, what pisses me off more about the ending is the fact that Revue Starlight tries to have its cake and eat it too. As is usual for episodic/weekly formatted shows, the beginning introduces the plot so all the episodic stuff afterwards has something to piggyback off of. We've already gone over this, but what episodic shows also tend to do is have a plot at the end as well, usually spanning a couple of episodes. This plot will usually turn a comedic tone into a serious one, abandoning the format of "episodic" altogether as the episodes will be parts of a plot. This plot will likely have drastic consequences and changes to the actual show, in ways that, if the show were to continue past this point by means of a sequel or something else, it would be completely changed. Revue Starlight does not necessarily follow the weekly structure, as narrative arcs can span multiple episodes already, however the overarching unchanged structure of the show I mentioned before would make Revue Starlight more than qualify for being called as such.

    What I didn't expect was for slice of life scenes to be inserted into this plot, which are by and far episodic elements. I genuinely do not understand why the show breaks its own established tension and tone for this ending plot to show these scenes. And they happen at the worst possible times, like for example an episode will start with a slice of life scene despite the previous episode ending on a massive cliffhanger. It's not like these scenes contribute anything either, as the dialogue spoken is exactly as implied; just a slice of their life, nothing else. It fucking baffles me. Why are you trying so hard to pander to the part of the audience who enjoys this type of content, when you know it's going to break the genuine storytelling happening in the ending?

    At the very least I can give Revue Starlight credit for being so blatant in the fact that a movie or some kind of sequel was going to exist. The actual final scenes did not really resolve much. The show wanted the audience to feel like the ending was deserved, but not to the point of conclusive. It wants the audience to crave more of Revue Starlight. In my case, endings like these only make me feel unsatisfied and bitter toward the actual show. Instead of actually giving me a satisfying ending and then giving me more content through the movie ala End of Evangelion, the show leaves things out in what I can only call a marketing ploy.

    I've said enough. Do me a favor and watch Adolescence of Utena.

Monday, January 31, 2022

Air

    While Kanon and the previous Key entries were more focused on the romance aspect of things first, Air takes things in a bit of a different direction. Intrinsically, it's still a romance: there are various routes for various girls, there were sex scenes on release, etc. But Air has the unique feature of having "Summer" and "Air," which are both unrelated to romancing a specific girl, but instead focusing on the plot/characterization. It's here where I see Air at its most interesting, when it leaves the romance to the wayside. But even then, it trips up and falls many, many times.

Misuzu

     Common and Misuzu really set my expectations high for the game overall. Retrospectively, I should probably have toned them down a bit, but I was still on the Kanon high. It seemed that they had learned from Kanon greatly and introduced new elements, like humor. Okay, that's mean, but I cannot think of a single moment before this where I genuinely gave a hearty laugh. The comedy routine between the three characters and the gags are all hilarious in a way I don't think the company has tried before. Hisaya's games always opted for a more melancholic feel, where the humor was relatively light and amounted to chuckles at most. It fit the tone of the games it was for, but it almost felt like they were playing it safe. Air swaps between the two states without it ever feeling jarring, or without ruining the vibe of the game. This is in part due to the soundtrack, which from Kanon has far improved. While Kanon's soundtrack worked, it also felt too safe. Only a couple tracks were bombastic in terms of mood, most of them playing to the same school stuff we're used to. Air's leans itself into the setting more, providing a wide variety of mood tracks while still having some general ones.

    But when Misuzu's route steps into its plot, it's clearly not going to go anywhere. It's quick and it ends, but it feels more like setup toward a bigger mystery rather than anything grand. It's far from self-contained, which wouldn't be a problem if the latter developments didn't make me feel so bitter. It would be an understatement to say that Misuzu's route is undermined by the others, not necessarily by their quality, but by their length, and my own boredom.  6.5/10

Kano

    I have no words. Misuzu's route gave me a lot of good will moving forward, but Kano's squandered it. It has none of the comedic beats that the original trio have, instead opting for more safe approaches to comedy that don't really work and end up being too repetitive. Not only that, but the dynamics are also far from fresh, and end up getting stale quickly. The route itself, too, gets stale quickly. It does nothing new from any angle, going for an extremely traditional anime romance with no depth or flavor. It comes and goes only to waste your time. The only plus I can see to Kano's route is that it was so short I could easily forget it as I played more of the game. 3/10

Tohno

    Actual abyss fiction like you've never seen, I can't believe this fucking exists. Can we just talk about this real quick? How the fuck did someone sit down and write this? Most of the fucking route is spamming through Tohno's ellipses, and not only that it's just the same boring ass slice of life scenes repeated over and over and over again. And then when it feels like it's ending, it ends at least four different times not including the, you know, real two endings. Both of which are just kind of there, and make me question why they didn't end it at any of those earlier points, since it wouldn't have made a difference. Like, an AI could have written better than this.

    This route made me question my entire scoring system and all the scores I've given thus far. Hell, this makes Mizuka's route from One look good in comparison. A 1/10 for that is way too harsh. Lucid9 too is nowhere near this level of boring and offensive. The content itself isn't offensive, but I do feel the energy of a condescending writer behind the text laughing as I click away at his absolute dogshit mess. Actually, it isn't one writer, I'm pretty sure it's three of them. I'm giving this a 0. Fuck it, it deserves it, I don't know how it's not even quantifiable. There should be a public PSA on every download of this game to CTRL skip everything Tohno-related for the sake of entropy. You could burn many tonnes of carbon and it would not measure up to the damage Tohno has caused to the human race. I'm not even going to try to pretend I read all of it. Toward the end I was just clicking away like a mindless robot. 0/10

Summer

    Finally, something decent. It's genuinely impressive how this game can have two separate games within it and still work. That being said, the direct connections are still relatively slim. It's more narrative, and I think it works. But even then, while Summer could have just been used for the themes, they really tried to sell us on the characters. And it works. I mean, I prefer this cast over the original in some cases. The comedy is similarly entertaining, but the plot moves along with it. It doesn't have a clear bound of separation, making the experience seamless and flowing. I won't lie, the previous two routes were primers for this, but that shouldn't take away from the quality present here. They drew up brand new CGs and made pieces exclusively for this section. It's clear that they wanted to make Summer special, and they did. That isn't to say Summer does anything new. It blends the plot, slice of life, and romance well, but that's more so a blown expectation rather than anything revolutionary. In all, Summer is still a common romp, if not helped by the aesthetic, art, and setting.

    If there's one mistake I think Summer does make is not being longer. It's fine when considering that it's a part of a larger game, but that larger game doesn't really connect with Summer in a way that's satisfying. That's a mistake committed in the last route of the game more than anything, and regardless this seems to have been an issue fixed in the Vita and Switch releases of the game, where they added an extra route focusing exclusively on the Summer characters. I trust that you believe me when I say that I was going to play the Switch version, but that version mixes the two existing translations, the first of which is not very good. Thus, I stayed away from it and played the PC version everyone knows. I'll play it sometime in the future, maybe soon if I find the time. 7.5/10

Air

    Air is... divisive. I went into it with high expectations, especially from hearing the opinions of others and from the quality of Summer, but I was thoroughly and fully disappointed. I seriously don't understand the hype for this. Even when it starts to get going, it stops completely and repeats the same mistakes the side heroine routes made. It throws a bunch of repetitive slice of life at you that doesn't further any sort of point, serve any sort of purpose. The relationships are deepened, sure, but it reaches a plateau. At some point you aren't making strides toward better chemistry and development, but only filling time and wasting the readers’. And it's a shame, too. Air has an amazing foundation, and they tried to touch on topics that I would have never expected from early 2000s visual novels, let alone Key. But that's all it was, an attempt. The topics aren't covered and only given the most passing glance.

    Worse of all, though, is the ending. It just...ends. Much too unceremoniously, with just implications left. It's bittersweet, which is great, but far from satisfying. It might seem like I'm seetheposting here, but I felt like something was missing, some kind of key element. An ending like this may be beautiful to some, but it doesn't feel complete in the way most open endings do. It doesn't leave me wanting more. I mean, the implications are clear, and the game is sort of thematically, narratively finished. It's that the ending doesn't add to the experience. With open endings, the goal is to make the reader think about them in the context of the narrative long after they've finished. But with Air, the ending gives me nothing to think about, despite being as open as it is. Reflecting with the ending in mind, I find no deeper meaning, no grand solution. It's too expected even though I didn't expect it. 6/10

    Really, I think Air, as the name of the route and the game coincide, represent each other. They both have strong beginnings, middle sections that are absolutely awful, braindead boring abyss fiction and any other insult for time wasting you can think of, and endings that work but leave nothing to the mind. It's Key trying to keep itself alive after its main writer had left the company and left the side writer all on his lonesome. And while that side writer may have been able to write something competent on his own if they had given him just a bit more time, it had already been much too long. Maeda took years from Kanon to write Air, and it still felt rushed. He improved from his past ventures, but that wasn't enough. They weren't confident in their product, so they dumped writers onto the project, crunching them, hoping to live up to their first success. Most of them seemed like they were shooting an entirely different target than intended (while still missing that other target) but at least one was a dead-on hit. It was overall still decent by their own standards, but nowhere near the product it could have been, only living as a shell of its potential. Personally, this indecisive feeling from Air is what breaks it for me. It brings me back to the days of Moon. and One, where they didn't have a foot to stand on, instead of continuing where they left off from Kanon. But at least some things never change, like Maeda disappointing while another writer shines.

Friday, January 21, 2022

Steins;Gate

     Steins;Gate is a bit of a weird game to discuss. I expected it to be hard to talk about, but it ended up being pretty easy. It's not a very complicated story with not very complicated characters. It goes through most of the motions that I "expect" from lots of the top popular works across the weeb shit universe. In a lot of ways, Steins;Gate to me is Fullmetal Alchemist as Fullmetal Alchemist is Steins;Gate. They have similar "vibes" but I can't necessarily describe what makes them so similar despite being so clearly different. This isn't a bad thing, actually, I enjoy them both quite a bit.

     My history with Steins;Gate is troubled, so my experience with the game would be surely biased. The memories of the original anime and the first couple chapters that I read with a friend have been permanently ingrained into my mind, so much so that almost a decade later they haven't left their place whatsoever. Going into this game, I expected to have forgotten a lot. I was both wrong and right. The specific details remained unknown, but the plot points and general motions were all expected. Most of the plot twists and developments were not surprising to me, though this gave me the unique ability of foresight. I could see the foreshadowing and how clean the beginning of the game was without any troubles, making me appreciate them a bit more than I normally would. Now, even despite this, I still consider the first three chapters to be quite slow. The game doesn't really start until chapter four. This may not seem like an issue at first glance, but what this means is that in the first three chapters you're dumped with tons of info not presented in an entertaining way. It chooses the path of least resistence, where the introductions are gotten out of the way first, and then it runs with the plot. It doesn't integrate them into the plot as that would be too complicated. It doesn't choose to leave people shrouded in mystery as that would be too complicated. This is a running theme throughout Steins;Gate: oversimplification.

    That may not seem like a particularly bad thing, and in the grand scheme of things if you're trying to capture a more mainstream audience, it's exactly what you want. Complication is but a filter to the minds of the populace. The simpler it is, the better; the more depth, the less entertaining. Frankly, I don't buy this, but it's an almost proven formula. If depth has to be introduced, then let it be completely optional; something that the average reader shouldn't touch, and only the dedicated readers must. So all of the in-between parts, and the general intrigue left out of the game is left to the side material. The side material is fucking amazing, I think most Steins;Gate fans will testify for this fact; but I don't think it's fair to leave almost crucial elements out of the game, especially when the content that was left out is better than some that was left in.

     Take, for example, the Gamma worldline Drama CD. Contained within is a story about Moeka, one that develops her character further, and to the reader makes her even more sympathetic. Now consider chapters seven, eight, and nine. The former two focus on the other side heroines, and they even have their own routes to boot. But chapter nine is conveniently missing that. While Moeka is present, she's mostly left to the side; the reader isn't let in into most of her inner workings, and her backstory is still blank, except for bits and pieces. Without Gamma, Moeka is much too one-dimensional. She's used as a plot device and left to the side. It's almost as if, when the writer reached that point in the game, he decided that he had had enough of the side heroines, and cast them to the side in favor of finishing the main plot once and for all.

    But it's not only Moeka: Kurisu, Mr. Braun, and Suzuha all seemingly get left out. I wasn't even properly sold on the former two until I read the side material. They gave a more introspective outlook on the both of them, giving me the depth of character that I needed. It's criminal. A lot of this, of course, has to do with the game sticking to a first-person narrative through the eyes of Okabe only. The side material changes the perspective to the respective characters, so it's expected that they would get more than from the eyes of someone else. At the same time, though, I see no reason why some of the slice of life scenes present throughout the game couldn't have held at least part of this introspection. Make the characters open up more, let them be more vulnerable. I feel like I could count the amount of times the characters opened up to Okabe in my hand; it isn't enough, clearly. Steins;Gate plays it too safe; the game is afraid that the reader would get bored by these scenes, and instead throws pillows of comfort over and over again. Comfortable, and enjoyable, but not substancial. That's not to say that the slice of life is exactly dominant.

    At any point, which is a majority of the game, in which Steins;Gate has its focus on the plot, it's fantastic. I'd even say it reaches some of the peaks of the medium, especially toward the end. But Steins;Gate gives far too much fan-service to itself, and to, to put it bluntly, pointless bullshit. I refer back to chapters seven through nine. While chapter nine is more than serviceable, chapters seven and eight are downright offensive. They are a slog, a black hole in the story. I wouldn't even say they accomplish their job. Instead of developing the side heroines, they instead only made me feel more hate for them and the writers. Taking the routes into account, suddenly I feel violent and outraged.

    I don't mind the development of side heroines. In fact, when done well, I prefer it. Take a look at it's predecessor: Chaos;Head NoAH. Each route serves to develop a heroine where the main plot, the common route, couldn't. And it does it well, with an exception which I won't get into. It uses the ladder structure in a way to benefit itself, without causing harm or blatant plotholes. Steins;Gate clearly took none of this advice and messed up on both. Unlike NoAH, Steins;Gate's routes are barely routes at all, and more like small alternate endings. Chapters seven and eight are routes themselves. The fact that it forces you to experience them even when aiming for the true end is a mistake, one born from using the ladder structure without thinking about the consequences.

    My opinions on Steins;Gate as a whole are divided. I can't help but compare it to Chaos;Head NoAH and how consistently good and well-paced it was, how cleverly divided the routes were. But at the same time, Chaos;Head never reaches Steins;Gate's peaks. When Steins;Gate is at its best, it truly deserves one of the top spots in the visual novel space, if not the top spot (almost certainly above Muv-Luv Alternative, but then again it's hard to name a game that doesn't surpass it). But at its worse, it doesn't even deserve to be in the top 100. For this reason, I find Chaos;Head NoAH to be the slightly superior game, even if I look at Steins;Gate more fondly.

    Does it deserve the number two spot? Personally, no, probably not. But I understand why it's there. And I think that it's important that Steins;Gate stays up there. It's a pillar of quality, judging all those below it. It's a produced game in every sense of the word. It screams quality. Without Steins;Gate, the visual novel space would not be where it is, and I don't want to imagine a world without it, a future without it.

8/10