A friend once noted that every comedic anime had its mandated hot springs episode, and I had to laugh at how brilliantly Bruja works its in (as well as the fun the writers evidently had in doing so). This is in addition to other cliché episodes, such as the hotel that turns out to be an abandoned (and now haunted) house as well as what I’d like to refer to as the bounty hunter code of ethics concerning the pseudo-ending. None of these detract from Bruja, because this series relies upon nothing but its characters to sustain itself. Thus there is no storyline too out there, no episode impugnable, because the only way the series can fail is if the characters do not develop.

That is what I mean by pseudo-ending, because Bruja actually has two. The first serves to wrap up plot and journey, while the second completes the characters. Unlike most extended finales, there’s an unsaid sorrow that should permeate the viewer’s consciousness. This is due to nothing short of the love developed between Nadie and Ellis throughout their experiences and the culmination of so much time on the road. In short, the series makes it evident that these characters know each other and are sacrificing for each other, even though neither would ask the other to do so for them. The result, if you like character-driven anime, is a bit of a tearjerker, as you realize that everything ends up exactly as it should, and you’ve been privy to some pretty intimate feeling captured though the two main characters’ realistic dialogue and some extraordinary situations.

This anime may not be for everyone. But if you like lighter stories that develop their characters with charm, humor, and a bit of subtlety, Bruja, if for nothing else, is a trip worth stealing a jeep for the privilege of taking friends of similar interest along for the ride.

fair.

Even when you’re watching the action sequences, you might find yourself asking where the action actually is. Whether this is intentional or not, El Cazador really forces you to concentrate on the characters. If this was a more shallow series, this concentration would be a great downfall, but the writers have come up with some decently three-dimensional characters worth your interest and time. It’s not that the characters are particularly deep, but there’s enough kept unsaid that a viewer is forced to wonder. As proof of this, in episodes 11-13, when most up-in-the-air mysteries are more or less explained or have some light shed on them, the series seems to move into high gear. But high-gear pacing does not mean value, and, if you want to look at the series in terms of geography, the southern US, Mexico, and Latin American countries tend to be significantly slower-going regions. The series never really identifies where it takes places to my notice, though one would assume Mexico. The fact that the series manages to evoke this sense of timelessness is a testament to, not a condemnation of, its direction.

It would be impossible to recommend this series without the English dub. This is due in general to the actual use of Spanish (in a Spanish-titled anime, go figure). While used sparsely and sporadically, the lobbing in of occasional simple and familiar Spanish words and phrases makes the dub more sincere. In particular, though, the dub would not be what it is without Maxey Whitehead as Ellis and Trina Nishimura as Nadie. Whitehead offers up a very clueless naiveté that borders on monotone and lends great punch to the character’s antics and expressions, while Nishimura’s performance, which is overwhelmingly warm and only justified somewhere in episodes 11-13, is indispensable because of the sarcastic asides Nadie makes to herself and her travel companion during their trip ever further south. Both actors lend a humorously endearing intimacy, seldom seen in dubs, that is the drive of this series.

If you’re not laughing by episode four, call it a day. But if you noticed a smile creeping up on your face or your gut suddenly aching for breath due to sucker-punch lines, stick with the rest of the first half of this series. The writing and voice acting make for a wholly enjoyable journey that, while not anything spectacular, is too well-executed to pass up.

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Our four episodes center on the initiation of Leona, the first girl to transfer into the testosterone-saturated Tank Police. As she learns the way of the Newport City Tank Police, she builds her own mini-tank named Bonaparte, something resembling a Dalek from Dr. Who but with nastier treads. Her journey becomes one of initiation, acceptance, and finally a literal struggle for justice vs. pride. She’s cute, impulsive and stubborn as most girls who drive assault vehicles, but her development remains relative.

Becoming a viewer of the Tank Police is all about reveling in the frat house level of maturity and pride of captain “Britain” (on my translation at least) and the rest of the loosely-drawn squad. These guys regularly patrol the streets en mass, causing more destruction than the Big O and turning enhanced interrogation into a game show complete with betting, bunny girls and throwing knives!

Oddly enough, the character whom Shirow forces the most sympathy for is the main antagonist Buaku, a small-time crook with big-time weapons. Buaku and his partners, twin gun-enthusiasts/strippers Anna and Umi (a cross between the American Gladiators and Thundercats), begin by assaulting a hospital for “perfectly healthy people” in order to steal jars of urine. No, no, you read that correctly: pee-pee. Once they fail at that, Buaku goes for a priceless painting, only to be thwarted again by the Tank Police. It is in this second arc that the story sacrifices its pacing for a deeper message on the self-imposed value of life.

Don’t get me wrong; there are many tanks. Big tanks.

Thus, there are explosions. Big explosions. No character can take center stage over Shirow’s masterful detail and imagination in his armored vehicles. What keeps this OVA a step below Ghost in the Shell is the sluggish pacing combined with its desire to leave everything as open-ended as possible. Dominion Tank Police runs into the same problem that Full Metal Panic did in that it tries to combine a high-tech cop drama with another conflicting genre. For DTP, it was the final episode’s delve into surrealism and philosophical drivel that collapses the story into the anime cliché of flashbacks and rhetorical questions.

Still, slow scenes and loose plot set aside, Masamune Shirow’s Dominion Tank Police is a must-see for fans of the mecha-cop genre. Patlabor, Appleseed, Ghost in the Shell, and Armitage III fans will revel in the detail of all things mechanical. Sure, it's not quite as aloof or high-brow as Ghost in the Shell, but it's a lot more fun to watch in a crowded room full of open-minded people.

Animation:		3.0		Overall: (2.5 stars)
Plot:		2.5
Voice Acting:		2.5
Sound:		1.5