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In the past I’ve talked about a small Japanese-style curry shop in Manhattan called Go Go Curry, which serves a very authentically Japanese yet very unique take on the classic dish, and I tout it as one of my favorite restaurants to eat at for under $10. This time though, we’re gonna bump up the price past the $10 point and talk about another place that I’ve become fond of. This place also serves curry, but its main specialties are big bowls of rice with various other ingredients known as donburi. And thus, the name of the restaurant: Donburiya.
Located in Manhattan on 47th Ave between Lexington and 3rd Ave, every person I’ve ever known that has gone to Donburiya, including myself, has come away completely satisfied. The rice is perfect. The meat is perfect. Everything is as delicious as delicious can be, though in a way different from Go Go Curry. If Go Go Curry is like a high-quality mac & cheese place, then Donburiya is like a top-level classy diner serving the best burgers.
So far I’ve tried the Oyako Don (chicken and egg), the Yakiniku Don (beef and egg), and the Unatama Don (eel and egg), and all have been extremely memorable. I’ve also had their onigiri, which have also been tasty and satisfying.
There’s other things on the menu too, but while I do plan on trying their curry, the ochazuke takes priority for next time.
Whenever I am asked to list my favorite anime of all time, I unequivocally give the same answer: the Galaxy Express 999 movie. Released in 1979 and directed by Rintaro, I first watched it theatrically many, many years later, when I was about 16 years old. Galaxy Express 999 is instrumental in defining my artistic style, my desire to pursue anime and manga beyond what is at the forefront of fandom consciousness, and my general love of strong, emotional storytelling of the kind that cares less for intricate details and more for conveying the inner feelings of characters.
Galaxy Express 999 was originally a manga by famed author Matsumoto Leiji, and was later adapted into a tv series, the movie on which this review is centering, and multiple spin-offs. In almost every case, the basic setting is a future where intergalactic travel is possible through the use of high-tech spacecrafts designed to look like the trains of old. Of these, the most famous is the Galaxy Express 999, a mock steam engine which takes its passengers to the Andromeda Galaxy where they can obtain a mechanical body and live forever. One person who desires to board the 999 is a young vagabond of a boy named Hoshino Tetsurou, whose poverty prevents him from obtaining a train pass for the 999. A chance meeting with Maetel, a woman clad in all black with blonde tresses reaching down to her ankles, gives him the opportunity, but as he visits planet after planet he begins to realize that life and immortality are not so simple after all.
Plot-wise, the 999 movie is no exception, though for the sake of time the story is greatly simplified. Instead of visiting dozens of planets, Tetsurou and Maetel visit fewer than ten. The result is that the voyage is not as long, and thus the theme of maturing from boyhood to manhood does not resonate quite as strongly, but in exchange the story is a little more focused, and a lot easier to digest; 2 hours is a lot less time than the 110 half-hour episodes which comprised the TV series.
On an artistic level, the 999 movie is neck-deep in its 70s origins. This is no small part due to the original source material, but it extends far beyond being a cut-and-dry visual adaptation of the manga, adding many abstract, mildly psychedelic elements to scenes. For example, as the 999 travels along, the bright yellow windows along the sides of each rail car can be seen cutting through space, adding to the melancholy and wonder of the movie’s atmosphere. The acting is at its finest as well, with Nozawa Masako (Tetsurou) and Ikeda Masako (Maetel) giving some of their finest performances ever. Ikeda’s most famous role of all time is undoubtedly Maetel, and when you hear the subtle complexity and the aura of mystery in her voice, you will understand why. Along with a somewhat disparate yet sensible mix of orchestral scores and 70s pop and disco for a soundtrack, Galaxy Expres 999 exudes a mostly romantic view of the future tinged by stark and poignant commentaries on the condition of life and humanity, commentaries that occur in the story itself as well as in the core aesthetics of the movie.
Of course, the movie is not without its faults or peculiarities. Though designed to be a greatly shortened version of Galaxy Express 999, it still feels to some extent like a series of smaller stories strung together, creating a very loose sense of cohesion in the narrative. Also, while certain popular Matsumoto characters make cameo appearances, their presence may confuse some viewers unfamiliar with them. And for those who expect a movie about travel to feature some unexpected detours, this is not really the case with 999, which basically stays “on the rails”: an appropriate feature for a movie about an interstellar train to have, but perhaps one that would not be so popular among people hoping for a major derail. As I said at the beginning though, Galaxy Express 999 concerns itself less with weaving an intricate tapestry of a story and more with filling you with a mix of powerful emotions and human themes.
I first watched Galaxy Express 999 when I was 16, and when the movie finished I realized my jaw was wide open; that’s how much it amazed me and drew me into its world. Having watched the movie again recently, I became very aware of just how much I’d changed since I saw it, and as a result of having seen it all those years ago. Life, much like the titular train of the movie, is a one-way trip, and even if you revisit the old stops, you’ll realize that you’re not the same person you once were.
For the past month or so I’ve been writing articles for the site Otaku Crush, and my latest article there is a review of Miyazaki’s Ponyo on the Cliff.
Otaku Crush’s site is still in beta, but feel free to check it out. It’s a dating site devoted to getting people with the common interests of anime and manga together, though you don’t have to sign up to read any of the news posts or essays.
Feel free to check out the rest of what I’ve written so far. Also, while I cannot really say anything about the dating aspect of the site (having never used it and all), if you feel it’s a good opportunity for you, you can also sign up. At the moment, it’s free of charge.
I recently discovered a Mahou Shoujo fighting game called Magical Chaser thanks to a link referral for my Comet-san review, and decided to play it for a bit. The first thing that surprised me though was that of the eight characters playable in the game, there were two I didn’t recognize at all. One of them was the title character of the late 90s/early 00s anime Kasumin, and the other was Popuri from Fushigi Mahou Fan Fan Pharmacy, an early 00s anime.
I don’t presume to know every anime out there, and I don’t think anyone would ever expect me to have watched every show, but having been an active fan for a while it still surprises me whenever I discover a show I have never heard of at all. It’s like there’s an uncomfortable hole in my knowledge that weakens my desire to be a well-rounded fan with a broad view of anime as a whole. I get over it quickly though, and what amazes me more is that both shows, from what little I’ve seen, are really appealing. They’re the sort of thing I definitely would like to watch more of, and I can only hope I’ll have the opportunity to some day.
No one I know had ever heard of Kasumin or Fan Fan Pharmacy either, and it made me realize that there’s this pit of knowledge in the western anime fandom from about 1998 to 2003 due to a number of circumstances. Digisubs were barely coming into their own at this time, and the chances of every show in a season being subtitled or even released untranslated were slim to none. It’s no surprise that these shows fell through the cracks.
I’d like to uncover more shows like this, to know that for everything available online today, there’s still more wonderful things to find, more to learn about anime past. I also want to watch more magical girl shows.
Yamamoto “Yamakan” Yutaka tends to divide the anime community with the anime he’s worked on, especially with his reluctant reputation as the most well-known creator of “dance segments” for anime openings and endings. Think Haruhi, Lucky Star, Kannagi, and you’ll get an idea of what I’m talking about. Now there are those among us, including myself, who have decried the overuse of dances in anime intros and outros, criticizing them as being too much of a fad, a gimmick which other anime are trying to latch onto in order to give themselves more otaku cred.
And they’d be right, except it doesn’t disqualify any of the above-mentioned Yamakan shows from being catchy bookends to each episode. Simply put, they’re quite good and they deserve to be catchy.
What actually made me newly appreciate Yamakan’s work was the second season of Haruhi. Watching the new ED, it just did not have any of the pop or style of the first series’ infamous “Hare Hare Yukai.”
Haruhi Season 1 ED
Haruhi Season 2 ED
It’s not like I’m criticizing the level of animation in the new ED; in many ways the animation in the new ED is better than the old one. And I’m not comparing the full Hare Hare Yukai dance itself to the new ED either. However, I really feel that the new ED’s sense of timing is a little lacking compared to the original, and that it overuses certain visual elements (a problem that goes double for the new OP). It was a pretty good idea, but the execution leaves something to be desired.
I’m not promoting the proliferation of even more dance numbers in anime, but rather just pointing out an example in which we have to look beyond the fad and into the core of what makes an opening catchy or memorable. I think that if you gave Yamakan an opening to storyboard and told him “no dancing,” he’d still be able to create something just as visually engaging.
Mousou Shoujo Otakukei Volume 3 has been out in America for a number of months now (under the name Fujoshi Rumi), and in the back of the book the author Konjoh Natsumi describes her experience meeting the guys who played her manga’s characters in the live-action Mousou Shoujo adaptation. In one of the panels, she talks about the fact that her “Yaoi Antenna” went off as a result of seeing these guys together, and I think it’s quite telling just how she decided to portray this Yaoi Antenna.
Interesting, no? Konjoh could have chosen plenty of other icons to portray the tingling of her Yaoi Sense. Ohno’s mole, a pair of glasses, a wheeled suitcase, a furry ball of a creature emerging from the back of her skull are all valid choices, but it is the Ogiue fude which immediately brings to mind the image of the “fujoshi.”
Now, Konjoh is not against making obscure references because she does so pretty regularly, but I wouldn’t count this as among the “obscure.” This is a clear sign that in terms of fujoshi characters, Ogiue is pretty much #1 no matter how you slice it, even if a million pretenders to the throne should appear.
I just found out that all of the seats for the level 1 have been taken at my testing site (Columbia University in NYC), so even if I was 100% sure I wanted to take the test, I wouldn’t have the opportunity anyway. Of course, this doesn’t keep me from actually studying, and it might be better that I don’t try to take it this year.
I advise that if you’re interested in taking any JLPT and haven’t signed up to do so as soon as possible so that you do not have the same fate befall you.
In a previous post I made here on Ogiue Maniax, I talked about how as a child I was amazed when cartoons I watched had actual endings or resolutions or at least something resembling a good stopping point, and I specified Conan the Adventurer as one such show. Then, I found out that another show I loved as a kid, Dino-Riders, also had an “ending” of sorts, and then I found out both of these final episodes are on Youtube!
Conan the Adventurer: A Serpent Coils the Earth
Now I know for many anime watchers, having an ending is not that special. Most anime and manga end at some point, and even the ones that run forever try to come up with some kind of conclusion. Take a look at To Love-Ru, which just ended rather abruptly recently. Even it had a chance to squeeze out a final chapter to give the story a tiny bit of closure. But with cartoons like the ones above, most would just stop running and that was it.
I’m not going to say those cartoons were perfect in any way, but I appreciate that they got the opportunity to do something at the end, to go out with a bang.
You want to watch a lot of anime but you don’t have a lot of time. And you want it to all be about robots. Well, let me introduce you to ロボットアニメシーン集 or “Robot Anime Scene Compilations.”
Have you ever wanted to check out the awesome fights in a giant robot anime, but didn’t want to wade through 50 billion episodes and endless filler to reach the few fight scenes that might be somehow significant? Well, the Robot Anime Scene Compilation tag is there for you and me.
Want to watch the greatest fights from Getter Robo or God Mars? Well here’s your chance, and rather than killing 100 hours worth of time, all you need is 30 minutes per video.
Are shows like Grendizer and Baldios too high-brow and high-quality for you? Well then you can take a look at some of the not-so-fondly remembered robots, like Gloizer X and Srungle!
It’s thanks to this tag that I found out Michiru takes over for a captured Hayato towards the end of Getter Robo G, and on top of that she’s actually not useless!
So go forth, watch some robots, and come back a more learned anime citizen.
