: "Hmm, I want to watch both Eden of the East and Baccano! - what to do?"
	: "Hey, Hey Elliot!"
	: "What's that?"
	: "Hey there!"
	: "What the?"
	: "Hey there, Elliot, we think you should watch Baccano!. That would be for the best."
	: "Why?"
	: "Well, look how happy we are! Don't you want to find out why we are happy, and be happy yourself?"
	: "I guess..."
	: "Do it!"
	: "Agh! Okay, okay."
	: "Excellent....."

It went something like that. What I present here is more something of a trip report than a full review.

Now onto the show itself. Having watched the main 13 episode series, I have come to regard Baccano! as a series of victories and small wonders, furnishing the viewer with a massively entertaining show that manages to satisfy without outstaying its welcome or stretching too far.

I will admit that until sitting down and watching it I have avoided all discussion or reviews of Baccano! (Including the Ani-Gamers review) as whenever someone has mentioned the show they have taken pains to point out that almost anything is a spoiler when it comes to the shows twisting plotline. I even avoided reading the synopsis on the back of the DVD set before watching. (I'm glad I didn't—whoever wrote the one on the Manga UK DVD set appears to have been drunk.)

To outline the show: set primarily in the early 1930s, Baccano! follows the exploits of a wide range of characters in both Manhattan and the transcontinental express train "The Flying Pussyfoot" as they all go about their personal business. The narrative jumps between different time periods and different characters with such frequency that the show's creators saw fit to make much of the first episode a primer for what is to follow. For most of this episode, Norio Wakamoto (with full R-rolling in effect) and his assistant prepare the viewer by discussing in a broad sense the different time periods, settings and characters that you are going to spend the following 12 episodes with, as well as showing the viewer some juicy snippets of what is to come.

This initially flummoxing first episode nearly turned me off of the show. It felt like a warning, telling me "Hey, if you aren't down with whatâs going on now maybe you should just give up and put this back on your shelf. Oh, here is a quick cut of a young boy getting shot in the head. Bet you're interested now, eh?" Then, at the end of the episode something awesome happens (that I won't spoil) and I was hooked.

To cut to the chase, the plotting works marvelously. The highest praise I can lavish on Baccano! is that even with all the switching of character, time period and setting, the entire plotline comes together into a coherent whole that is massively satisfying, like watching a good detective story. The timing and placement of character and time zone transitions feels meticulously thought out and perfectly judged to maintain viewer interest without causing confusion or irritation. When transitioning between different time periods the show will throw up a black static image with the year that the following events take place in - the genius of these cuts are that they act as welcome breathing spaces in the action, heightening tension. The presentation reminds me an awful lot of the Guy Ritchie film Snatch (2000), which also uses multiple viewpoints to weave together a coherent and thrilling tale. I was worried towards the end that Baccano! would contract a fatal case of "Dumb Anime Ending" syndrome, but I was proven completely and wonderfully wrong. The ending was not bombastic or laden with sudden twists, but was immensely satisfying and ties the disparate plotlines up wonderfully.

The characters themselves also do a lot of the lifting when it comes to drawing you into the story, in part because there are so damn many of them but also because they are genuinely interesting. One particular character is called Jacuzzi Splot, and when I first saw him, i hated his guts. He had a dumb tattoo, a whiny voice, and a melancholy outlook on life. His one redeeming feature was that listening to Japanese voice actors try and pronounce "Jacuzzi" was endlessly amusing. But after a few appearances I began to root for the guy as his development on screen was so engaging and interesting to watch. This happens a lot with the characters â you might not like them, but you come to understand them through their actions. I can honestly say that Baccano! is one of the few shows that have had me rooting for a mass murderer. Multiple mass murderers, in fact.

Not only are the characters interesting because of their actions, but they also look great. Everyone is stylishly drawn and with a great deal of care, something that really helps out not only in learning names but also in deciphering expressions and intentions of the cast and helping you connect with them. This ability to empathize with the characters really pulls you in, and I feel is best outlined by two of its best characters, Isaac and Miria. I love these two, so very much. Isaac and Miria are a pair of loud, boisterous, idiotic and immensely lucky thieves and the fact that they feel like believable characters while acting in such an absurd manner for their entire time on screen is a credit to the series. They are used just the right amount â too little and they would become a throwaway gimmick, too much and they would take over the show and ruin the magic.

I mentioned that the characters were stylish before. In fact the whole series is damn stylish. Every character, backdrop and action has style in spades. What makes this work is that the style is completely cohesive and well thought out to work as a single whole experience: no sudden SHAFT-style insanity, no winks at the camera, no snickering to itself behind the stage curtains. Every element presented on screen has a purpose and it was put there to contribute directly towards viewer enjoyment, drawing you into a coherent world that has a tangible feeling of authenticity to it.

To sum up my thoughts on Baccano!, after the end of the 13th episode in my third non-stop viewing session, I stood up to retrieve the DVD from the disc tray and thought to myself: "Wow. That was really enjoyable. I wish more things were made this well." I only regret I waited until I had to be pushed by Santa to actually sit down and watch it!

[Highly Recommended]

This review is based on the Manga UK DVD box set, purchased by the reviewer.

In the future, human society has been forced underground by environmental destruction. Archeologists have now dedicated themselves to archiving and researching photos and other documentation from the surfacebound past. Photographs of a green, living earth captivate the protagonist of the story, while everyone else is questioning the necessity of the historical discovery and feel as if it is better if humanity doesn’t know what it was once like. Despite his female friend encouraging him to abandon his work, the protagonist discovers an old music video that compels him to seek the truth about the human race’s previous life.

My issues with the plot are largely irrelevant since the entire OAV is a technical demonstration, but as a vessel for displaying Yoshiura and the studio’s animation talent it succeeds quite well. The animation is gorgeously detailed with intriguing cinematography. The aesthetic is built around, well, technology looking cool, and as such it features lots of detailed shots of wires, pulsing light towers, computer desktop screens, and related. Naturally, it is impossible not to make the obvious Serial Experiments Lain (1998) comparison with its technical, cyber-cool focus. Interesting camera angles and panning may serve as animation shortcuts at times, but are effective stylistic choices at others. Aside from the amateurish character designs, Pale Cocoon is a strong demonstration of atmospheric, technological animation.

It is easy to compare it to Makoto Shinkai's Voices of a Distant Star (2002), as both are these are short works that showcase the director's budding talent. However, since Pale Cocoon is a studio production, it features better quality animation that Shinkai's home made effort, but there is a similar spirit between the two. In fact, both manage to pull off a "Macross" by using cheesy pop music to reinforce a climactic scene. Voices of a Distant Star, however, executes a very effective character drama built around strong SF themes, whereas Pale Cocoon’s plot comes off as mere structure to show off pretty graphics.

If not for the Secret Santa recommendation, I would not have even bothered to review Pale Cocoon. I see it as a piece of experimental filming, used as practice for the director's “real” debut. Reviewing it seems equal to browsing through an accomplished director's early archives and giving criticism on their practice projects. I can understand commenting on it when it was first released, but now it should be left alone and treated only as historical documentation. Where Pale Cocoon succeeds is in whetting the appetite for future projects from the director.

Despite its flaws, Pale Cocoon has attracted a surprising amount of enthusiastic viewers. With its short length and ease of access through Crunchyroll streaming, it requires no significant commitment. I believe that it also represents anime fandom's interest in good science fiction anime, and people watch it in hopes of filling a void. Thankfully, Yoshiura went on to release Time of Eve (2008) that uses even better animation with similar elements and overall vibe. Time of Eve is a strong science fiction series that has the appeal that Pale Cocoon only hints at. I would recommend skipping out on Pale Cocoon, and diving straight into Time of Eve. Pale Cocoon could then viewed as a piece of historical interest to fans interested in the director's developing ideas.

[Bad]

This review is based on the Crunchyroll stream of the series, provided by Studio Rikka.

The show begins in a vaguely steampunk era in which giant airships have become the primary tool of war. Our heroes are two young pilots who make their living as couriers on the wings of their small fighter plane-esque craft called a "vanship." Claus Valca is a quiet, kindly pilot with a penchant for finishing everything he starts, while Lavie is his hot-headed, impetuous, and intelligent navigator. As the guy piloting the vanship, Claus is naturally the hero GONZO chooses to focus on, while Lavie serves simultaneously as his childhood friend, romantic interest, and moral compass.

These two couriers are living a simple life in the shadows of their legendary fathers (couriers who flew together until their untimely deaths) when they find themselves tasked with transporting a young girl named Alvis to the "Kill 'Em All" Silvana, a notorious mercenary airship thought to suck the souls out of anyone who comes aboard. After narrowly escaping attacks from the Guild, a shadowy organization that exerts subtle control over all the world's militaries and governments, the two vanship operators end up joining the Silvana's not-so-scary crew in a mysterious mission to strike the very heart of the Guild.

On paper, Last Exile seems like an exhilarating modern military tale, set in the skies of a unique world bound by strange rules — and it almost is, too. Unfortunately, GONZO's execution is painfully uneven, to the point that I often wondered if the writers knew where they were going when they created the original concept. The story is roughly split into three acts: 1) introduction of major cast and factions, 2) the Silvana wanders around doing things and battling some people, and 3) final confrontation with the Guild. As you might be able to guess, the second act features no central narrative or even an attempt at a formula (which would have made it much easier to follow). Instead the characters just meet a few unrelated challenges and overcome them, all the while developing ever so slightly as both individual characters and as a team.

Unfortunately, that individual development often leads to dead ends, as with two of the show's seemingly important romantic threads that simply die out before the introduction of the third act. The overall development of the cast, however, is one of the Last Exile's defining characteristics. The sense of cohesion between the Silvana's crew might not be apparent at first, but the motley crew of pilots, mechanics, and bridge personnel really start to feel like one big team by the end of the series. The most apt comparison that comes to my mind is original Gundam (1979), though Last Exile certainly doesn't pull it off quite that well.

Despite the compelling sense of overall camaraderie, some of the individual characters can get truly grating after 26 episodes. Let's start with Claus: his personality is so meek and boring that he is effectively the same as any of the cookie-cutter protagonists in harem anime. Underscoring this unfortunate truth is his harem of girls, including Lavie, Alvis, the cold-hearted pilot Tatiana, and even the strong-willed Vice Captain Sophia. To make matters worse, Tatiana turns into a mushy little lovestruck schoolgirl when Claus so much as lends her his jacket, and Sophia's romantic encounter comes from so far in left field that you'll likely be throwing things at your screen in frustration. To be honest, by episode 15 I was convinced that Last Exile was a harem show in disguise.

Meanwhile, there are a few characters who really shine despite their disappointing company. Alex Row, the stoic captain of the Silvana, rocks all kinds of socks with his grumpy demeanor and tortured past, but cracks begin to show in his emotional armor as we learn more about his history and see him lose control near the end of the show. Dio (no, not that one) and Lucciola, two runaways from the Guild who join up with the Silvana, and Mullin Shetland, a musketeer-turned-mechanic, provide an interesting counterpoint to the rest of the crew as outsiders coping with the stress of turning away from their previous loyalties. On the bad guy's side, the sinister Guild leader Maestro Delphine comes off as a poisonously sweet version of Gundam's Haman Karn.

But as far as I'm concerned, the real star of Last Exile is Lavie Head, Claus's energetic navigator. Originally she seems like nothing more than an obligatory bossy love interest, but by episode 8 or so it is clear that her personality reaches depths far beyond those of her lame childhood friend. Even when she decides that she doesn't want to be Claus's navigator as long as he is flying in combat (a brave and unexpected decision that throws a fascinating wrench in the works), she remains one of the most well-developed members of the crew. Lavie feels with a magnitude that nobody else in the show does, careening between nurturing love for Alvis, passionate concern for Claus, and unexpected bravery in the face of danger. Through it all, she manages to be both completely admirable and believably flawed, a feat that I'm frankly surprised GONZO managed to pull off so well.

While Japanese voice actor Chiwa Saito's performance as Lavie certainly gets the job done, Kari Wahlgren truly makes the role her own. Especially compared to Johnny Yong Bosch's typically overwrought Claus, Wahlgren's Lavie is always believable, no matter where she is on the emotional spectrum. In terms of the rest of the English cast, despite some clunky deliveries they mostly stack up well, especially thanks to spot-on Japanese-to-English voice matching by Bang Zoom.

Nearly all of the technology in the show (intricately researched and designed by character designer Range Murata and Gankutsuou's Mahiro Maeda) is animated using GONZO's notorious CG style, which only rarely blends with the two-dimensional character animation used throughout. Movement is also irritatingly choppy during the fight scenes, undercutting the clear quality of the original concepts. The skilled 2-D animators who realized Murata and Maeda's beautiful character and costume designs likely could have transformed most of the storyboards for the battle scenes into thrilling dogfights, but as it stands the 3-D fights are merely passable (though GONZO gets points for including ZERO Gundam-style monologues or pilot-to-pilot arguments during fights).

While I don't usually comment on such things, Last Exile's sound design is actually one of its greatest strengths. The sound effects used to represent the creaking and turning of machinery and the movements of the wind are far more visceral (and frequent) than the effects used in most other anime. This, combined with Maeda and Murata's unique and complex designs for clothing and machinery, makes for a lot of fascinating world-building potential. Unfortunately, spotty explanations of the factions and technologies often make it difficult to understand who is fighting whom and for what reasons. By the time the series reaches its exciting finale, it might still take a Wikipedia visit or two to understand just what was going on in the skies of Claus and Lavie's world.

Last Exile, like many GONZO series before it, is a valuable lesson in wasted potential. It's clear that the concept designers put a lot of work into the series during pre-production, and the animators' love for their material shines through in rare moments that belie Last Exile's most glaring flaw, which is that it doesn't really say or do very much with its own material. In the end, the exquisite presentation, the attempts at world-building, and the moments of genuine humanity come together to produce a work that is nothing more than the sum of its parts. We are left with a vaporous story about people in airships who fight each other.

[Passable]

This review is based on the Hulu streams (both dub and sub) of the series, provided by FUNimation.

While the overall presentation of said story is awash with harem elements, the main conflict of the story, pacifism in the midst of battle, is aptly personified via the assignment of Saber to Shirō. Furthermore, implications are deepened via the introduction of Shirō's inability, caused by his lack of study in magic, to make Saber properly materialize. Thus Emiya and Saber, respectively as magus and servant, portray two incomplete parts that leverage each other to form a whole in the hopes of competently fighting against multiple pairs of complementary wholes. This setup is rife for conflicts, and the execution does right by exploring the main theme of action vs. inaction. However, the weaving of romantic tension turns too many scenes into boring and (for the most part) inconsequential harem tropes.

That's not to say that romantic tension doesn't serve some purpose. Rather, the execution of its repeated influence only weakens the story. I'd maintain there are two instances of romantic tension aptly serving the story: that of Emiya's falling for Saber and Rin's unexplainable interest in Emiya. While the latter only serves as a reason why a fellow magus would not kill, and instead might even protect, a competitor, Emiya's falling for Saber further lends credence to why he constantly puts his life on the line for what he views as his responsibility. Really, there's an essay waiting to be written on Emiya and Saber, and that fact alone makes the anime a worthwhile watch, but other aspects deserved to be touched upon as well. Art in Fate/Stay Night is standard fare but of above average quality (budget). Really, its only fault would be the showcasing of CG alchemic circles, the animation of which seems a little too out of place. Fight scenes are well orchestrated and, for the most part, fully animated, and the overall ambience is set rather perfectly. Deep hues of night, the only time during which combat is permitted, are foreboding and bloodthirsty, while days offer a palate more complimentary to the harem walls and the associated tension break. Character designs are also quite Romantic, especially concerning the servants' attire/armor.

Writing is a tad overly dramatic, except, surprisingly, for the harem aspects. Instead, I found myself actually liking how statements by the majority of the female characters never (or rarely) said anything directly. In retrospect, I also greatly enjoyed the underlying and understated theme of regret that manifests not only within the warriors throughout the series but which also resonates as the drive behind the warriors – each a mythical figure of ancient origin.

If you have time to kill, there are far worse anime to help you pull the trigger. It's pretty, the pacing of the main plot is quick, and general subtext is nothing that requires much thought. There is even decent potential as fodder for analysis, which is surprising given the series' origin as an “eroge” (erotic game). What I can only guess to be a successful anime translation (best to ask Elliot Page) manages to eliminate all hentai aspects, save the annoyingly omnipresent harem elements (beware the first half of the date episode!!!), and deliver an enjoyable watch akin to a more grown-up Zatch Bell (2003).

[Recommended]

This review is based on rental copies obtained via the reviewer's personal Netflix account.

So how about the conflict? What drives these characters to do what they do, and keeps the viewer interested enough to move from episode to episode? Well, nothing! The first few episodes feature Nagi and Jin trying to capture and destroy "impurities," evil spirits (or something like that) in the shape of black insects. What are the impurities and why does Nagi need to destroy them? It's not really explained, but the show sure does make a big deal about these things at the beginning.

Later the show focuses on Nagi and Zange trying to outdo each other at being teenage idols. The reason for that conflict is weak as well, with the only explanation being that the two need to gain followers to increase their powers as goddesses. Curiously, though, their "powers" never seem to manifest into anything remotely useful. This arc in particular highlights the show's obsession with the otaku subculture, especially its uncomfortable tendency to pander to its audience at every single turn with teen idols, magical girls, and maid cafés.

The middle of Kannagi forgets about BOTH of these conflicts and lapses into pure comedy, with a few episodes about Nagi locking herself in a closet, a karaoke trip, and other silliness. Here the show really shines, as it takes its very simple, one-dimensional cast and uses their comedic strengths – much like 2006's enjoyable The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya – to pull off some surprisingly funny scenes.

Finally, it all comes back to a dramatic trio of episodes at the end that seems like a half-hearted attempt to transform the characters of the previous ten episodes into real human beings that the audience should care about. However, when Kannagi's excuse for character introduction is a girl listing off the archetypes that each character fits into, it's only natural that an attempt at real development meets with some massive cognitive dissonance. A few moments in the final episode or two might provoke some real emotion, but mostly you will just want to punch Jin for turning into Shinji Ikari at the last moment.

The biggest central conflict that Kannagi has going for it is the romantic relationship developing between Jin and Nagi, but it falls flat in this as well. Unlike Haruhi Suzumiya (also directed by Yutaka Yamamoto), which had a similarly subdued romantic conflict between a deadpan guy and an impatient, immature girl, Kannagi doesn't have a romantic payoff (the kiss scene in Haruhi). Admittedly this is because Kannagi is based on a manga that has not finished, and the show was intended to have a second season, so it is hard to fault the folks at A-1 Pictures for the weakness in the narrative. However, it undoubtedly weakens the first (and only) season as a stand-alone show.

With all of this negative talk, you might think that I hated everything about Kannagi, but that is certainly not the case. The animation, for one, is beautiful, and it is clear that animating the character's movements – Nagi's in particular – got a lot of focus from the team. The show might not look as beautiful as Haruhi, which was particularly noticeable for its stellar animation, but it's one of the closest things you can find out there in terms of both animation and art direction.

Oddly enough, the background music at the beginning is impressive, using a lot of interesting electronic instrumentation rarely found in anime background music, but later episodes cut back on the use of Satoru Kousaki's fascinating, emotive music in favor of uninspired instrumental versions of the opening and ending themes.

Despite its technical high points, when it comes down to it Kannagi is a waste of time. The show features characters defined only by the archetypes they fit into, but instead of consistently using this potential weakness to the show's comedic benefit, Kurata spends an inordinate amount of time on poorly executed drama and an unsatisfying romantic plot. Still, the most pressing issue that I have with Kannagi is that it simply has nothing to say. At the end of the experience, I was left with only a feeling of, "well yes, that happened." A goddess moved in with a boy, they did some silly stuff that sometimes made me laugh, and they both sort of like each other. Behind all of the big-eyed teenage girls and the half-baked attempts at romantic comedy, Kannagi has no substance, and that is ultimately its greatest failure.

weak.