As a result of the art, the finished page is very demanding to read; anytime these demands made of you feel alien or disjointed, the book falls apart. During these spots I would put the book down to let my rather indignant brain cool off, to let the sea of patched together information drain off before picking the work up again. When, in certain key points, this began to happen every few pages, continuing with the two-hundred-and-fifty-odd-page story felt rather masochistic.

The characters are instantly forgettable, primarily because they are also there exclusively for the service of the plot. Usually such a transparent device would manifest in a bland or very contrived character who would deliver a deus ex machina – for example, the quiet girl from class who can rewind time all of a sudden, just because. Hey, why not? The difference is that the characters in Orion, if transplanted into any other series, would be outstanding characters, shining beacons of craziness who warp the plot around themselves due the the impact of their actions. They are real individuals with crazy designs and motives, but immediately after re-reading the book, I can't for the life of me remember any of them. They exist simply to expel lectures and do bizarre things for the sake of moving the plot along. The plot is driving the characters, not the other, more desirable, way around.

So, the plot – time to talk about it, seeing as it is obviously the main thrust of the work. Giving an extended synopsis would take a lot of words, so I'm going to boil this down to the lowest level I can to illustrate what I believe is being conveyed:

A spunky girl is involved in an bizarre magical accident that makes her the equalizer of all the Karma in the universe. Various interests vie for possession of the girl. After she escapes and begins to absorb all of the bad karma of the world as intended, she realizes how much power she has at her fingertips and so goes a little mad with delusions of grandeur and marriage. This is resolved in a overblown manner with some amazing two-page spreads and the final page tells us that this insane magic-and-technology synthesis world would later become Earth. Somehow a few side plots were resolved at the same time too. Great! I won't tell you how many readings this small level of understanding took, particularly due to the problematic brain-overheating key moments mentioned earlier, I'm still not completely sure about the above, but I'm sure as hell not touching the book again to find out.

Orion is not a good manga. It is not fun to read, whether for the art, characters, plotline, or message. There is no justification for purchasing it for the “Oh my god its so wacky!” angle, or even giving it as a joke gift to a friend (who will certainly hold a grudge). The worst part of all this is that it is deceptive – “if only I read that part again, I'd have a better understanding and all would be so much clearer, I know it!" – No, the manga is lying. It won't. Even worse is the nagging feeling that if elements of this manga, such as the characters and the universe itself, were airlifted to safety to star in another work, they would stand out and make for magnificent and engaging storytelling. Instead Shirow leaves his readers with a massive mess.

This item, however, is a monument to the bloody-mindedness and determination of the people at Dark Horse, and especially those who localized it – the reason this manga makes any lick of sense at all is thanks to those good people. Hats off to you, brave warriors.

terrible.

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

The boys' abstract forms look like malformed transparent blue-tinted Lava lamp babies, but who am I to judge?

Taro, our undisputed main character, is fifteen-years-old and dabbles in lucid dreaming. When he was a child, he and his sister were kidnapped, and only he survived. Now, by unlocking the gate of his memory through hypnotherapy, Taro uses astral projections to find his sister's spirit. His cousin Makoto is a reserved, sharp-eyed punk who walked in on his father hanging himself. Now his ancient grandmother, a previously influential cult leader, is demanding he inherit the family legacy. Finally, Masayuki, the smirking transfer student from Tokyo, developed acrophobia once a student he tormented jumped from the roof of his school.

Eat your heart out, Shinji! You've got nothing on these punks.

Fans of Satoshi Kon will definitely get the most from Ghost Hound: it tosses around complex psychological terminology like a harem anime tosses panty shots. Series director Ryutaro Nakamura ambitiously blends the series' themes of psychology and Shinto mysticism to create a coherent aesthetic. Memories and flashbacks are drowned out by both static and an underwater blurring effect for both their audio and video: you feel as though you are floating in and out of a dream you cannot control. There are also many elements of horror and suspense, so expect a ton of extreme-close-ups.

Ghost Hound blends complimentary styles including supernatural, psychology, horror, and mystery into one genre that aims to literally blow your mind apart. However, despite all the smart-people talk, the story is chronological and easy to follow: you are never totally lost.

That said, the series has much that could have been improved. Because it deals with childhood trauma, expect a lot of flashbacks to the same scenes over and over and then over again. Script-writer Chiaki Konaka (Hellsing, The Big O, Lain) juggles many mysteries at once, and while he develops them all evenly, much of Ghost Hound's sharp intelligence becomes a double-edge sword resulting in some pretty dull episodes. There are mountains of dense psychological theory cluttering the dialog, and the series could easily have been Freud's Ph.D. thesis. The intense dialog is contrasted by dream sequences and frequent trips to the Unseen World, which may look cool, but remain disappointingly bland.

Nevertheless, By the end of the ride, you do feel as though you have grown with these boys. Makoto has gained a heart despite his overt hatred for his family. Masayuki has gained courage in confronting the scientist who sexually possesses both him and his father. And Taro gains the brain he so desperately needs. While Ghost Hound definitely runs on anime rules (trauma, Shinto shrine maidens, family, blaming the past for our present inadequacies) it is difficult to imagine an audience for this show. It is for young adults, and while it has great cliff-hangers, it lacks energy and pizzazz. But, just as with the human brain and our dreams, there are far deeper themes and meanings in Ghost Hound than can be fit into a simple blog-styled review.

Animation:		4.0		Average: (3.5 stars)
Plot:		3.0
Voice Acting:		NR
Sound:		4.0
Overall:		3.0

Animation is instantly noticeable in Ghost in the Shell. Everything from the characters to the weapons to the machinery to the buildings is crafted with amazing attention to detail. Every piece of machinery and building is so realistic and detailed that one can often forget that they are even watching a "cartoon." One of the most stunning scenes of this type comes in the opening credits, as we watch the creation of Motoko as her metal parts are assembled and activated. It is obvious that Oshii made sure to pay close attention to the accuracy of the creation of a "Shell." Even so, the character designs can sometimes be a little undetailed and awkward, particularly when people's eyes get unnaturally wide.

Even though Ghost in the Shell establishes itself as an action thriller, it still manages to infuse philosophical musings with the explosions. At times, these complicated conversations can really confuse the viewer, especially if they are watching it subbed. However, when you stop and think about what is being said, GitS really has a lot of interesting points to make. This is the film that inspired works like Serial Experiments Lain, The Matrix, and other science fiction plots based on the ambiguity of autonomous thought. Luckily, the philosophy and action are balanced well, so that they very rarely feel contrived or tacked-on.

The English dub is listenable, but still has some problems. Most notable is Motoko's mostly emotionless voice actress, Mimi Woods. While I understand the desire to make Motoko seem like a doll, her lack of emotional acting does not help the film. Togusa as well, played by Christopher Joyce, is not very believable. The music takes the same path as Akira, attempting to combine choral chants and African drums to stress humanity in a sea of inhumanity. In one of the most powerful scenes in the film, we simply watch the city go about its ways, staring at buildings, boats, and people. All the while, drums beat in a background beneath the sound of overlapping tribal singing.

Ghost in the Shell is an anime that can truly be seen as art. From the unusual opening credits to the simple background musical scenes all the way to the film's action-packed and thought-provoking conclusion, Ghost in the Shell is unforgettable. While it may suffer from dub problems, Mamoru Oshii's exquisite attention to detail, both artistically and story-wise, definitely shows. The shell may seem shallow and action-based, but the ghost gives us so many different things to think about.

Animation:		3.5		Average: (3.5 stars)
Plot:		3.5
Voice Acting:		3.0
Sound:		4.0
Overall:		3.5