VOTOMS director Ryosuke Takahashi’s career is uncharacteristic in that, of the many series he has authored or directed, VOTOMS is the only one to ever receive sequels of any sort, and it was not until the release of Pailsen Files in the 2000s that it managed to receive a full 12-episode anime rather than sporadic OVA releases. Equally uncharacteristically for a sequel, Pailsen Files is a largely unique entity, one that displays an interest in taking the series and setting in a new direction, rather than furthering the same ideas that its original entry had already conceptualised. One area in which this new approach is madeevident is through the use of distinct locations, allowing it to portray a more convincing image of an entire galaxy. By moving regularly between different planets, each with their own distinct ecological temperament, and adding a greater emphasis on detail therein, this sense of place is accomplished two-fold. A legitimate effort was made to produce an entire system of logistics and interconnected systems belonging to a galaxy typified by its incessant war, a state which is also conveyed through its visual design. Courtrooms, barracks, hospitals and other areas all provide a degree of authenticity to the setting, something which is accentuated by the use of command centres in which the tactical implications of the local geography are made apparent, providing the story with multiple layers of purpose and payoff for its focus on its environment.

With this in mind, it is worth remembering that a new approach is not necessarily an improved one, something which is made apparent before the first episode even starts. Foregoing what had worked so well previously, Pailsen Files’ mechs are animated entirely in CGI, which was a new endeavour for its animators, as evidenced by its inconsistent quality. The worst animation is confined entirely to the OP, which for close to a third of its duration, utilises a particular transition that would have looked more appropriate in a homemade stop-motion Lego video than in something by a professional studio. Additionally, there are singular action scenes in which the framerate will drop considerably, which is the sort of issue that is able to completely ruin any sense of immersion close to instantaneously, even if this immersion is lost just for a moment. It is at least something that stops appearing roughly around the halfway point of the series, but the fact that it appears at all may very well be an indication that the technology wasn’t quite there yet, and they should have waited a year or two before creating an entire series that relied on its application. But at its worst, it is at least watchable, which is more than can be said for the 1983 Golgo 13.

While there are discrepancies with the animation, even if relatively limited, the writing has no such issue. For that matter, if there is one thing to say about the writing, it is remarkably consistent. Its most striking quality is its multi-layered recontextualisation, firstly by adding a stronger emphasis on the plot, and by establishing different units within the military whose goals are rarely uniform amongst each other, thereby creating a degree of believability for the events of the story, as well as a means of demonstrating its importance, by showing the wide-reaching effects of the protagonist’s actions. With that said, factionalism and political intrigue only constitute a small element, but an important element nonetheless, and one that allows the writing to operate on multiple levels.

Although it may not be explicitly evocative of a unique form of stylisation and auteurship, Pailsen Files is in fact representative of its creator’s directorial experience. Its CGI is far from picturesque, but underneath the surface is a Frankenheimerian utilisation and interconnection of story, character and action in a manner that is persistently engaging, dramatically suspenseful, and while it is far from the best work within the wider VOTOMS catalogue, it is an undeniably fine work that, as a soft reboot, performed its duty with distinction and honour, two concepts that are ironically enough entirely absent from any of its characters.