Kurenai: here’s to the child and all she has to teach us
It seems that the lolicon dabacle is mercifully dead and buried so we can now all concentrate on what Kurenai is and does rather than what the misguided individuals think it is. It’s certainly an unusual series, both in terms of aesthetics and storytelling - this is to me a shining example of well-made seinen anime that I find to be so refreshing and enjoyable. We need more shows like this - it has single-handedly cured me of my temporary writer’s block, which I’ll bear in mind when it finishes its all-too-short episode run.
Dialogue-driven win: lol@irony too
I’ve heard the art described as a bit patchy, which I concede is the case on occasion; while I appreciate the op and end animation sequences I can’t say I actually like them (and the black-and-white trimmed school uniforms make the students look like extras from The Prisoner too). There is a certain je ne sais quoi to the animation though, which a post at Hashihime helpfully explained; apparently the unusual technique of recording the dialogue first and animating it afterwards is applied to Kurenai, which gives it that organic and natural flow on-screen. Red Garden was treated the same way, as was Akira iirc. I’m sure this way of doing dialogue is more labour-intensive but the extra effort isn’t lost on me - it makes everything else broadcast at the moment look stilted and dry in comparison.
I guess the reason for making the dialogue as realistic as possible is that the characters and their situations are the crux of the story with the fighting scenes existing for the sake of this story, not the other way around. The hero fights because it’s an occasional prerequisite for his job: hurting people isn’t something he indulges in for the fun of it and his overall position is dictated by a traumatic past and a sense of lethal abilities held back by self-control. He reminds me a bit of Hei from Darker than Black actually.
The dynamic between Shinkuro and Murasaki is, as many other bloggers have pointed out on numerous occasions already, great comedy. Throwing a mere child (who has led an especially sheltered life too) into a very grown-up world of thugs, secret agents and mystery makes for a fantastic culture clash - the setup is a winning formula similar in some ways to Luc Besson’s classic crime thriller Leon. In that situation, a gruff Jean Reno is a hired assassin who winds up as the guardian of a feisty young Natalie Portman - mayhem ensues but although Kurenai has a stronger comedic streak there are a lot of similarities in terms of more serious stuff.
The younger protagonist of both Kurenai and Leon has to grow up quickly and come to terms with some harsh truths about the world (something that I suppose Shinkuro also had to do), but thanks to her new companion learns more about the world around her. This aspect is the most obvious, but what about the older character learning a few life lessons from the younger one?
O rly?
Reno’s ‘cleaner’ is not unlike Shinkuro’s teenage dispute mediator: he lives a tough existence until a young girl winds up on his doorstep and puts him back in touch with his humanity and leads him to question his own outlook on life. There are a number of fantastic scenes in Kurenai that highlight how this happens - my favourite is that scene on the train in which Murasaki’s typically outspoken manner causes problems but in some ways it’s making a point about how the adult might not necessarily know better.
The grown-up approach to confrontation is to calm the waters, bite your tongue and not be confrontational at all; to a nine year old this course of action doesn’t make much sense. Coming to think of it, isn’t the adult mind clouded by doublethink, pride and ambiguities? Murasaki’s reaction was on one hand out of turn and thoughtless but on the other it was a way of dealing with a bad situation that is in some ways more honest.
The whole idea of turning a blind eye and being apologetic is indeed quintessentially Japanese but I’ve seen this sort of thing happen in the UK too - responsibility is everyone’s concern…which basically means that it’s someone else’s problem, not yours. While I was cringing at Murasaki’s apparent attempt to start a fight, I was impressed that she was standing up to a bunch of thugs for the sake of a complete stranger while everyone else did their best to ignore it. She came across as a spoiled rich kid in the earlier bath house scene but as it turns out she’s naïve (in that she doesn’t know better) yet at the same time she has a firm set of standards that she’s prepared to stand by at such a young age.
You tell ‘em, Murasaki-chan!
To clarify, Murasaki was doing the right thing from a moral standpoint, if not from the customary one. The idea that grown-ups are always right is drummed into our heads as kids (but then, they would say that, wouldn’t they?) as are the sets of standards and values; we often have to learn the reasons why those standards exist through experience because most people think children won’t ‘get’ it and simply order them to do as they’re told. Now, I don’t really like children but they are sharper than most adults give them credit for (which is one of the reasons why they scare me) - while Shinkuro was trying to avoid the violent confrontation he hates so much, I think he realised that Murasaki was actually right. Fascinating character interaction right there.
Given Shinkuro’s line of work there’s ample room for questioning the morality of various characters in addition to the chemistry that sparks up between them; I hope the potential of Murasaki’s character isn’t wasted either. Because of her age she’s straightforward in some ways but in others her demeanour says otherwise. Taking a more unlikely analogy, the character of Lisa in the Simpsons is a super-intelligent moral crusader with more staunch beliefs than most of the adult characters; the writers of that show are aware that, through comedy and the actions of a very young character, they can make serious points in a lighthearted way that they wouldn’t get away with otherwise.
There’s plenty going on in Kurenai in terms of character relations, even when it’s not in social commentary mode; I’ll have to leave my thoughts on Shinkuro’s childhood, his classmates and the whole story of how he became a dispute mediator for a later post. Given all the stuff that this show achieves and how well it portrays it, thirteen episodes hardly seems enough now.
Posted on May 12th, 2008 @ 4:58 am
Right now the show is setting up the pieces and showing off its strengths but I’m getting a little tired of “Innocent, headstrong girl messes with tough guy’s work and life.” I’m ready for the main action, I assume, when they start trying to get the girl back. It shouldn’t be long. I didn’t realize this series was only 13 eps.
Though I like how they slowly fed us the backstory, like the two girls in high school who are in on the whole thing (which snuck up on me), and it will be interesting to see how the two neighbors fit in later. I hope they aren’t just dropped.
Posted on May 13th, 2008 @ 3:47 am
That train scene evoked in me quite a lot of thoughts and emotions, as I find myself relating with both Shinkurou and Murasaki. It was enough for me to recall my childhood days, and reflect on the dilemmas we face as adults, which, at its worst, renders us apathetic to the plight of other people. As much as I’d like to say more, I think I’ll just redirect you to my post on this, Martin… though it’s quite a long-winding tl;dr post x__x;;;
Shinkurou admires Murasaki for her courage, as implied in the anime, and shown in one of his thought-monologues in the novel.
I’ll be looking forward to more of your insightful Kure-nai posts, and I might just be inspired to write about Shinkurou’s childhood past myself, thanks to the novel and the levels of detail it adds to all this. ^^
Posted on May 13th, 2008 @ 11:56 am
I like the comparison to Leon. Unlike Leon Shinkurou has a social life with his school friends. He’s not so much a pure professional as an example of absolutely segregating work from life. I also thought of Hei there, although as a contractor his approach is made rather creepier.
Posted on May 13th, 2008 @ 8:48 pm
I really like the comparison with Leon, especially since Natalie Portman’s portrait of a young girl is equally strong in my opinion. It makes me want to watch the movie again now.
Now I am waiting for Murasaki to point a gun onto her head, forcing Shinkuro to tell her that he loves her. Harr.
Posted on May 13th, 2008 @ 11:51 pm
@Peter S: I’m starting to compile a mental list of Things That I Hope Don’t Go Wrong for this show, and the supporting characters are part of that. They’re so interesting - and characterisation is such a central part of the story - that I hope they get the screen time they deserve. In a way, Kurenai is so unusual it’s hard to guess what the writers have planned for it but I can’t wait to see what they come up with!
@usagijen: thanks for the link - I’ll give it a read when I have enough time to give it proper thought! I’d be interested in reading the light novels actually since the story has such a fascinating premise. I’d like to learn more about Shinkuro’s past too, but I doubt that later episodes of the anime will allow that (not without leaving other important aspects out instead).
@coburn: trying to juggle his studying and unusual job is one thing that makes Shinkuro so interesting - he certainly shares that ‘hidden depth’ aspect that Hei has (and yes, I’m eagerly awaiting the opportunity to see DtB through to the end!)
@Sasa: I really ought to re-watch Leon sometime soon as well - I’ve only seen three of Besson’s films (that, Nikita and the Fifth Element) but thought that they were all fantastic. *Sigh* so much to watch, so little time…
Posted on May 25th, 2008 @ 8:18 pm
[...] little obnoxious kids (real life or not, it applies) and you know you’re expecting it from the anime that was being reviewed/blogged by a person who’s watching it, you know you gotta avoid/ignore. But no, some people just can’t help but write a new post, says [...]