Review of Memories

Two balls, one strike. If we assume the anime studio is the pitcher, in this metaphorical game of baseball, then out of the three pitches (i.e. anthology films), only one was a success — a strike, if you will. One was mediocre at best, and the other was, well, let’s call that one a wild pitch. Considering that this comes from the creator of Akira (Katsuhiro Otomo), which, in my humble opinion, was a train-wreck of a movie — let the hate commence — and is only revered by people who prefer to look through the lens of nostalgia. It comes as nosurprise that this weird amalgamation of three diverse ideas is, as a whole, fairly unremarkable. There are glimmers of brilliance throughout the three works, but not enough for this to be considered a landmark in anime achievement. Perhaps I was wrong to expect profundity, when mild intrigue would have been more than sufficient. But enough bemoaning over my own misjudgment, let’s take a look at each story as it was intended to be received: individually.

Magnetic Rose: 6/10

The screenplay comes from none other than the brilliant Satoshi Kon (Director of Perfect Blue and Sennen Joyuu), yet, chronologically speaking, this work predates his later “master works,” and it is evident in his lack of detail. An abbreviated version of the story goes as follows: a renowned opera singer loses her voice, and, as a result, her desired husband, Carlo. Not willing to accept her unfortunate circumstances, Eva — the renowned opera singer — murders her husband, and creates a simulated environment to lure in unsuspecting men to play her “new” Carlo. This poignant, melancholic script has Kon’s hands all over it, but, unlike his future works to come, it lacks a certain level of refinement and character development that was sorely needed. To illustrate this point, look no further than Miguel, who is so focused on being with Eva, that he completely disregards the obvious illusions that Heintz points out to him. In fact, this happens several times, until he finally relinquishes himself to Eva. It is obvious that Miguel was intended to serve as a plot device, rather than participate in a meaningful way in the story.

Heintz, on the other hand, is more level-headed than his libidinous friend. Be that as it may, his function in the story is relatively basic all the same, as he reveals the main philosophical idea the anime was attempting to achieve, without allowing the viewer to figure it out for themselves. Spoon-fed answers never go down quite so well, as they insult the viewer’s intelligence, making the experience exceptionally lackluster. Fortunately, Satoshi Kon learns from this mistake, as the ambiguous Perfect Blue permits the viewer to contemplate several alternatives without ever knowing the actual truth.

On a positive note, I did enjoy the atmospheric juxtaposition between the Victorian architecture (representing Eva’s past), and the modernized space equipment. The artwork in this episode was especially on point, creating a frightening environment that felt palpable for the entirety of the episode.

Stink Bomb: 2/10

Easily the worst contribution of the three films. Nabuo exemplifies the “captain oblivious” trope, proving once again, that a terribly written character can dismantle an otherwise interesting idea. Do anime writers seriously think that this sort of naive ignorance portrays a realistic, grounded character with several levels of emotional depth? Because it doesn’t. It simply reminds the audience that capturing authentic human tendencies is difficult work, and rather than strive for originality, its much easier to use “tried and true” formulas. Also, I understand that Nabuo’s gas emission was scrambling the electronics on the various missiles sent towards him, but come on! Are we really suppose to believe that tanks, jets, and battleships were all incapable of hitting one man riding a scooter?

“But Krunchyman, it was meant to be a dark comedy. Stop taking it so seriously.”

I don’t remember laughing with or at this film. I felt like I wasted 40 minutes of my life, watching a film without an overarching message, and no semblance of constitutes comedy. If you want dark comedy, then watch the Frank Grimes episode of the Simpsons (“Homer’s Enemy”). Frank represents the struggles of the common man, in which he works hard, but receives none of the adulation that he feels he deserves. This is applicable to almost any person, as we all have felt this way at some point in our lives. Nabuo, on the other hand, has no universal human qualities, except for the fact that he has a cold — big whoop.

Cannon Fodder: 8.5/10

Remember how I criticized Magnetic Rose for spoiling the underlying theme it was attempting to convey? Well, no need to worry here, because Cannon Fodder understands the power of ambiguity, deciding to say very little through the use of dialogue, but, instead, allowing its artwork and character designs to do the talking.

I believe the strength of this particular episode comes from its implied commentary on our own social values. We tend to believe that our thoughts/attitudes are the result of our own choices; nevertheless, Cannon Fodder demonstrates that governments, educational systems, and our parents (indirectly, by avoiding their “failed” life choices) shape our reality, and by default, who we ultimately become. This doesn’t only occur in the dystopian society pictured, it happens in freely elected Democratic societies, as well. As a point a reference, compare Howard Zinn’s, A People’s History of the United States, with any generic high-school history book — I guarantee the difference will be substantial. Yet, the selectively distorted history from your high-school textbook is what a large majority of the population tends to believe as the truth (shaping their reality like the little boy in Cannon Fodder). This is why Cannon Fodder, despite its murky atmosphere, shines through as the best offering in the Memories series. It showcases relatable attributes to each one of us, whether we acquiesce to the norms of society and go with the flow, or whether we strive to modify the current paradigm, despite the hardships of swimming upstream — just like the protestor’s at the factory.

Overall: 5.5/10

It’s a bit confounding to me why these three particular films were lumped together in a single offering, especially because each film represents a different philosophical message. Perhaps Otomo could not visualize expanding each idea into a feature length film, and thus, decided to roll them all out to clear his desk for future projects. Whatever the case may be, it was an intriguing trio of films that, besides the Stink Bomb episode, was worth the investment in time, yielding memorable moments, and exhibited what the medium can/should be capable of in the future.