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There has long been a mutual fascination between Eastern and Western cultures, and although modern technology and tourism have made it easier to explore the mysteries of other lands, things were very different during the latter part of the 19th century. At that time, travel was still relatively dangerous, and the cost of the undertaking meant that it was generally reserved for royalty, the upper and middle classes, and well-to-do merchants or craftsmen. Journeying to a foreign land (and returning to spin tall tales of exotic things), was considered a mark of one's status, and aside from choosing life as a sailor or ing the ... military, the working classes had very few options when it came to visiting other countries. The generally accepted method was emigration, but even though port cities across the world became hotbeds of ethnic diversity and multiculturalism, newcomers also ran the risk of racially motivated assaults, propaganda, and worse.

Another method was for a person to be "sponsored" by a citizen of another nation, and while this allowed them to live and work in that country, they also had to abide by certain strict "rules". Like any system it was open to abuse, but many people were also granted a better start in life than they would have had in their homeland. The biggest difference between this method and emigration though, was the perception of the native populace. Many of those who were sponsored didn't live as part of an existing ethnic community, and because of this they were often tolerated as novelties rather than a threat.

Okay, that's a bit of a heavy beginning for a light-hearted slice of life anime, but a bit of context may help with certain aspects of Ikoku Meiro no Croisée.

Based on the manga by Takeda Hinata, the story follows the lives of Claude Claudel - an ironmonger living and working in Paris, and Yune - a young Japanese girl who has been sponsored by Claude's grandfather, Oscar, to come and live with them for a time. Unfortunately they have very little understanding of each other's cultures or histories, so every day is an opportunity to learn something new ...

Now many people will immediately this series off as nothing more than inane, lighthearted fluff with no real story, and in all honesty that's a pretty fair assessment. The episodic plot is rather straightforward and progresses in the relaxed manner that is so common in slice-of-life shows. In addition to this, there's an element of whimsy to the narrative that can make it difficult to take certain events seriously, and the whole show can often seem like it's trying very hard decide what it should be.

That said, there is a charm to proceedings that comes from a cast of surprisingly earnest characters, and there are flashes of a much deeper story hidden within the sugar-coated exterior. Unfortunately these undertones are rarely allowed to surface, but when they do, the series gains an intensity that can sometimes be at odds with the relaxed atmosphere, and it can often seem as though there is a purposeful avoidance of certain topics.

As far as appearances go, there's a nice uniformity to the predominantly European design, and everything from the buildings to the clothing are reflective of the period. Unfortunately there's also one glaring irregularity that may have been purposeful, but seems rather unnecessary, and that is Yune. The major problem is that she has been designed to be petite and tooth-achingly cute, and it's because of her looks that people automatically assume that the series is nothing more than a big ball of moe fluff. It's probable that this was an attempt to highlight just how different she looks to everyone around her, but there's an element of tastelessness to it - even though it does fit the 19th Century European vision of a typical girl/woman from the Far East.

That said, the characters are surprisingly expressive, both facially and in their behaviour, and the show makes good use of this factor. In addition to this the animation is pretty decent throughout, but it's also rather placid, which is why the art style sometimes changes for events that are meant to be charmingly amusing. In a very real sense it's a visual form of the much hated "canned laughter", and while it's supposed to "encourage" viewers to chuckle, thankfully it's not used enough for it to become anything more than a diversion.

Ikoku Meiro no Croisée has a rather interesting set of characters that can sometimes play very well off each other, but because this is a slice-of-life tale the focus is less on developing them as individuals, and more on nurturing their bonds with the people around them. Now it may seem like splitting hairs, but it's actually a rather important distinction as this type of growth rarely occurs in other genres. Although the series isn't on the same level as Aria in this department, it does manage to hold its own for the majority of the show, and Yune's earnest habits and mannerisms may cause some viewers to make comparisons between her and Mizunashi Akari or Binchou-tan.

Now while there's a lack of obvious development, there are attempts to add definition to the characters and explain why they think and behave the way they do. Although the reasons are often retrospective, they're also logical and fit into the class system of the period, but viewers may sometimes find themselves frustrated by the fact that they ultimately don't lead anywhere.

Because this is a "Stranger in a Strange Land" type of story, the script takes a simpler, more explanatory approach than normal. Surprisingly, this seems to have allowed the voice actors more freedom rather than restricting them, and much of the dialogue is delivered with the kind of warmth and sensitivity one would expect from a slice-of-life show. Touyama Nao manages to capture Yune's shy earnestness rather well, and her performance is balanced by Kondo Takashi's seriousness as Claude, and Yuuki Aoi's rather madcap portrayal of the show's resident Japanophile - Alice Blanche.

The opening theme, "Sekai wa Odoru yo, Kimi to" by Youmou to Ohana, is a rather cheerful song with a continental flavour that fits very well with the accompanying animation showing Yune, Claude and Oscar on a day out in Paris. Strangely, the ending sequence features Yune waking up on a bed in the middle of a forested park (how this fits into the show is anybody's guess), while Touyama Nao sings "Koko Kara Hajimaru Monogatari", a slightly melancholy ballad that doesn't quite fit her breathy, high-pitched voice. There are also two additional closing songs, "Tooku Kimi e" by Nakajima Megumi and Touyama Nao, and "Tomorrow's Smile" by A.m.u.. Both are very similar to the main ending theme in of emotion, but neither has a dedicated animated sequence, instead using the episode itself to give context to the track.

The background music ranges from sombre to the more common lighthearted pieces, but there's a surprising subtlety to it that may not be obvious at first. As the series progresses, it gradually becomes apparent that different primary instruments (violins, pianos, harps, clarinets, etc), have been used throughout in order to add dimension to particular scenes, and enhance the overall tone of the anime.

Although the series does have its problems, Ikoku Meiro no Croisée also retains a fair amount of entertainment value. Much of this comes from the relationship between Yune, Claude and Oscar, but one can't deny that some of Alice's ideas about Japanese clothes and objects can be worth a chuckle. The series maintains a lighthearted atmosphere for the majority of the story, and although there is a banality about particular events, it's not really enough to discourage those who enjoy this type of anime. On the other hand, while the undercurrent of tension between certain characters can sometimes shed new light on the relationship dynamics, it can also place an unnecessary burden on the narrative as the issues beg to be explored, but very few are actually resolved.

Ikoku Meiro no Croisée tries very hard to avoid being categorised as nothing more than 19th Century moe fluff, and in several small ways it manages to achieve its goal. Unfortunately the rest of the show is a bit too sugary-sweet, and while it can be charming, it studiously avoids addressing any of the real issues that someone in Yune's position would have faced.

It's idealistic escapism, which is okay up to a point, but it's also far too nice for its own good.

Stories about the dead coming back to life are a dime a dozen these days, mainly because of the current fascination with zombies and vampires, but rarely do we see a tale that's more akin to the legends of old, where mighty heroes brave the perils of the underworld to be reunited with their lost love.

Sorry, that should be a 12 year old girl. Let's try this again ...

Stories about children having adventures in other worlds are a dime a dozen these days, but rarely do we see a tale that's more akin to the stories of old, where brave youths traversed other realms on ... a journey that would teach them ... lots of stuff.

Nope, that's not going to work either. Let's try putting the two together ...

Hoshi wo Ou Kodomo, which apparently means "Children Who Chase Stars" but for some reason is called "Children Who Chase Lost Voices From Deep Below", is the latest work from acclaimed creator and director Shinkai Makoto. The story centres on a small town in the countryside, where a young girl called Asuna spends her time after school listening to the strange music that comes from the crystal radio that her father left to her before he ed away.

Everything is peaceful until one rather eventful day ...

At it's core, Hoshi wo Ou Kodomo is an adventure covered in a philosophical blanket that doesn't quite fit, and it shows in many ways. The plot tries to blend a variety of themes, but it never really manages to do this with the panache of Shinkai's previous works. In addition to this, there's a childishness to the narrative that some viewers may find a little annoying, and quite often events are resolved in a manner that is very "black and white". Because of this the story lacks a good measure of catharsis, especially in comparison to "5 cm Per Second" and "The Place Promised In Our Early Days", and the film concludes with a rather lukewarm resolution.

That said, the movie is interesting to a degree, but much of this comes from the way in which myths and legends regarding the underworld and resurrection are tied into the plot. Unfortunately, it's clear from the opening scenes that inspiration for the anime has come from a few very well known sources, and viewers may find that they spend more time playing spot-the-influence, and less time paying attention to the storyline.

One of the first things that people will notice about Hoshi wo Ou Kodomo is the very "Ghibli-esque" atmosphere it has, but while this perception can initially be ascribed to the rural setting and the young lead character, the similarities actually run a lot deeper. The scenery is a rather pleasant blend of Shinkai's trademark panoramas and the kind of countryside imagery that one might find in "Only Yesterday" or "Spirited Away". Once the action moves beyond the gate, the background art and the settings dramatically improve, and the audience is treated to the kind of vistas that one would expect in a Shinkai feature.

Unfortunately the same can't be said of the design, and viewers may be forgiven for thinking that the entirety of the movie is nothing more than an homage to a certain well known studio. The characters are so stereotypically Ghibli in fact, it's easy to imagine them searching for Laputa or farming in The Valley of the Wind. The similarities even extend to the animals, and while several of the more fantastic creatures wouldn't look out of place in the forests of "Mononoke-Hime", the strongest resemblance (in more ways than one), is between Asuna's cat Mimi and Nausicaä's pet Teto. Sadly, the comparison can only go so far as the characters lack visual refinement, which is further compounded by the lack of gradation in the colour palette used for them.

When it comes to the animation, Hoshi wo Ou Kodomo is a long way from the best work produced by the long-running Shinkai/CoMix Wave Inc. collaboration. The action sequences are pretty decent for the most part, but the characters can sometimes move in a stunted manner, almost as if there's a degree of uncertainty about how each person should act or react in a given situation. In addition to this there are several scenes where the characters seem to have irregularly proportioned bodies, and viewers may find themselves wondering why particular events leave them with the nagging feeling that something isn't right.

The theme song, "Hello, Goodbye and Hello" is a bittersweet ballad composed and performed by Anri Kumaki, and in all honesty it's a rather fitting song given the nature of the story. As for the background music, there's a rather nice mixture of placid or bittersweet orchestral tracks, light-hearted jingles and dramatic pieces, all produced by Tenmon - Shinkai's long-time compositional stalwart. Ironically, the movie excels when it comes to audio choreography, and with an array of high quality effects on offer it can sometimes feel as though more care has been given to making the feature sound good in a pretty setting, and not enough on developing the story.

The script lacks a degree of intuitive flow, and the characters can sometimes state the obvious or wax philosophical for no reason other than to add a veneer of intelligence to proceedings. It's a sad fact that the dialogue can sometimes be stunted, and lacks the nuance that many viewers might expect. While some people may believe that this is due Asuna's age and lack of knowledge, the simple fact is that it highlights more than anything else how inexperienced Shinkai is with this type of movie. That said, the more than experienced cast have rallied well, but even with their ability to project emotion and personality, there are moments when they're unable to compensate for the heavy handed script.

There's a strange dichotomy with the characters as on the one hand Asuna, Shun, Shin, and pretty much everyone else aren't really anything to write home about - especially if you've watched certain Ghibli movies. On the other hand Morisaki Ryuji is a very interesting person indeed, and is reminiscent in many ways of a more humane Ikari Gendou. Unfortunately he also suffers from the same problem in that he isn't given enough back-story to his actions and decisions, but then, that's pretty much the tale of Hoshi wo Ou Kodomo in a nutshell. Although there is some development for the lead roles, it's often sporadic as the focus seems to be more on the journey itself.

Shinkai Makoto has made it no secret that the inspiration for this movie came from a story he read in elementary school, but it was during his sojourn in England in 2008 that the idea for the anime finally coalesced into something more concrete.

Which, strangely enough, explains rather a lot.

There's a childishness to the movie that doesn't quite fit with the major themes of the plot, and in many ways it feels more like Shinkai was testing the waters and his determination, which isn't actually surprising when one considers that Hoshi wo Ou Kodomo is also his attempt to prove that he isn't a one-trick pony. While there are some positives that can be taken away from the feature, there are far too many things that have been "borrowed" from other films, and these make it difficult to see the movie as little more than an homage. In all honesty it would have been nice if Shinkai had the courage of his convictions and relied more on his own style (like he did with "5 cm Per Second" and "The Place Promised In Our Early Days"), instead of trying to piggyback on that of another studio.

That said, Hoshi wo Ou Kodomo is a fairly easy movie to watch as long as the viewer doesn't delve too deeply, and it has a much lighter and more adventurous tone that Shinkai's previous offerings. In addition to this, if one considers it an experiment with a new type of story then it doesn't just become a reasonably entertaining feature, but also a glimpse into the mind of Makoto Shinkai, and that is a much more rewarding experience than the movie itself.

Since time immemorial the worship of higher powers has been a cornerstone of human civilization, but as mankind's understanding of the universe grew, so did his technology, and many ancient beliefs were gradually replaced or discarded by one means or another. Not all of them fell by the wayside though, and while some religions adapted their rituals and practices in order to survive in the ever-changing world, others were carefully hidden to keep the old ways alive, or to protect their secrets from being misused by humanity.

Originally a manga by Yamamura Hajime, Kamisama Dolls begins with a rather nightmarish scene in which three children are ... being chased by a strange creature that can fire beams of energy from its mouth. The kids appear to have some kind of "robot" that tries to protect them while the brown-haired boy tries to carry the little girl and his friend to safety. Unfortunately the creature is too strong, but before it can land the final blow the brown-haired boy and the "robot" somehow manage to destroy it.

Years later, Kuga Kyouhei moves to Tokyo to attend college, and to escape his traumatic past.

It all sounds very exciting, but while the rather dramatic opening suggests that Kamisama Dolls is an action series, that isn't actually the case. Although combat does play an important role, it's often incidental to the main thrust of the narrative, and the plot is geared more towards character drama than anything else. In addition to this the series is refreshingly straightforward, but alongside this simplicity is a surprising degree of depth as the personal histories of the leading characters and the politics of the three priestly families play a major part in the story.

That said, while the simplistic approach makes everything easy to understand, it also exposes the fact that Kamisama Dolls can sometimes have difficulty deciding what it should be. This is mainly due to the rather slipshod manner in which the action and drama are meshed together, but the addition of some rather inane comedy and the inability to maintain a steady narrative progression don't help the show at all. To further compound matters there are several scenes that don't actually fit anywhere in the story, and because these all seem to include Shiba Hibino in some kind of compromising position, it's more than likely that they're only designed to promote merchandise involving her.

There's a surprising mundanity to the visuals that may cause some viewers to assume that Brains Base simply didn't care care enough about the series to make it look good, but it should be pointed out that a part of this is due to the limitations that come with any adaptation. The characters, background imagery and settings are decidedly "average", and there's a startling lack of anyone who is truly outlandish or flamboyant. In addition to this the animation is rather utilitarian, and while the basic ranges of movement are handled well, it's the combat between the Kakashi (the "dolls" that are considered gods), that really steals the show.

Which brings up an interesting point.

For many viewers it can often seem as though all of the creativity and imagination has been applied to the Kakashi, but Kamisama Dolls has a surprisingly subtle visual contrast at work that suggests that the somewhat bland designs and the straightforward animation are purposeful measures. Many studios feel an almost habitual need to exaggerate the characters in some way, but in order to promote the idea that everyone in the series is an average human being (including the Seki - the "priests" who control the Kakashi), Brains Base have approached the design with normality in mind. Sadly, they went a bit too far with the everyday look, and without anything extravagant to balance things, many people may find this a visually dull series.

Thankfully the same can't be said of the acting.

At first glance it may seem as though much of the dialogue is rather bland, but in truth this is nothing more than a continuation of the drive to depict the characters as normal, if flawed, human beings, and in a very real sense it works. The script is filled with conversations that only peripherally include the viewer, and although explanations about past events can sometimes become a little heavy handed, there's a logic to the serious parts of the dialogue that is missing in many other shows. The seiyuu are thus able to deliver some good performances, and the usual elements of cheese and ham have been toned down in favour of "normal" reactions.

That said, the slightly banal comedy does cause a few problem, and some of the actors seem to have difficulty coping with the rapid change from seriousness to humour.

One of the surprising things about Kamisama Dolls is the musical choreography, even though the majority of the series is free of any instrumental accompaniment. The few tracks on offer are usually reserved for tense scenes, comedic moments or action sequences, and their usage is generally rather subtle - by necessity. The haunting, ethereal songs of the Kakashi add an extra dimension to the background music that, at times, is almost religious in its effect, and the inclusion of these strange little pieces adds a completely different element to certain scenes. While the timing of all of these different audio strands isn't perfect, it's clear that attention has been paid as it would be all too easy for everything to degenerate into a cacophonous mess.

The introductory song, "Fukanzen Nenshou" by Ishikawa Chiaki, has a decidedly Latin flavour that fits rather well with the stylized character montage used to open the show. In contrast to this the ending theme, "Switch ga Haittara" (by the same artist), is a bittersweet yet melodic piece that plays out alongside a rather interesting take on the traditional closing sequence. While the ED does feature images of the more prominent character, some of them are merely patterned silhouettes until they appear in the series proper. In addition to this a few of the more important scenes from the episode are recapped in the "eyes" of the Kakashi, which may be a metaphor about how the "gods" view the actions of man, or it may just be a case of aesthetics.

At first glance many of the characters may appear to be nothing more than bland variations of certain stereotypes, but while there's an element of truth to that perception, it only really applies at the beginning of the series. There's actually a decent amount of characterisation from the outset, especially where the lead roles are concerned, yet while these do make a reasonable platform upon which a character can be "grown", many anime fail when it comes to the underlying logic of this process. In that respect Kamisama Dolls deserves a little praise, in particular for the manner in which Kyouhei's apathy and Aki's desire for revenge are justified as both mesh with a few small, but important, threads in the plot. In addition to this the ing characters offer a nice mixture of personality types, and there are occasions where they are used to cleverly foreshadow some event that will happen at a later time in the storyline.

That said, certain developmental aspects fall on the shallow side because the show has difficulty getting to the point, and more importantly, sticking to it. More often than not a scene will offer some insight into the reasons for a person's actions or behaviour, but this is quickly ruined by unnecessary fanservice and bland comedy. While these moments do visibly decrease towards the end of the series, they do a lot of damage to the viewer's perception of the characters.

Kamisama Dolls is one of those anime that tries to give the audience a little bit of everything, and because of that it fails to deliver on some of the more important aspects of the story. As a concept, the series has a lot to recommend it, but at a mere twelve episodes there's simply not enough time to develop the plot or the characters to the degree necessary to make the narrative work. In addition to this the emphasis on "normality" may cause people to assume that the show is nothing more than a healthy dose of tedium.

Patience is a virtue though, and the rewards can sometimes be surprising. The series really does take things up a few notches towards the end of the show, and the clarifications and justifications begin to make much more sense. It also becomes clear that the first twelve episodes are merely the first portion of a larger story, and in all honesty if the follow up maintains the pace and progression that occurs at the end of the first series, then the second season could well be one to watch.

While this anime does have many flaws, unlike many other shows it can also redeem itself, but only if the next installment lives up to the true potential of the concept.

"Satan has been the best friend the Church has ever had, as He has kept it in business all these years!" - Anton LaVey

One of the constants of many religions is the idea that sin and evil stem from a higher power. In some cases this means another deity that works in opposition to all things good, but for Christianity, Islam and Judaism such things are viewed as the domain of Satan (or "Lucifer, Fallen Angel, Prince of Darkness, Bringer of Light, Ruler of Hell, Lord of the Flies, Father of Lies, Apostate Supreme, Tempter of Mankind, Bringer of the Apocalypse, Old Serpent, Prince of ... this World, Seducer, Acc, Tormentor, Blasphemer" - Glen Duncan).

Whatever name is ascribed to this being, the idea of him being the enemy of all things good is so deeply ingrained in society, he is usually depicted as the epitome of darkness and evil. While there are tales out there that try to cast Satan in a different light (for example, DC Vertigo's "Lucifer"), most writers find it easier to go with the prevailing opinion - which is a bit ... lazy to be honest.

Adapted from the ongoing shounen manga by Kato Kazue, Ao no Exorcist follows the adventures of Okumura Rin, a boisterous teenager with superhuman strength and a problem controlling his temper. Together with his younger twin brother Yukio, they live in a small Christian monastery run by their father, Fujimoto Shiro, and several monks who have helped raise the two boys. The series opens with a group of priests who are frantically praying in unison, but one by one they are being killed by a mysterious blue fire.

The scene shifts to Rin, who has just punched a delinquent for shooting pigeons with a crossbow.

Because this is a shounen anime, the plot adopts the action oriented, fight-of-the-week format that is so common in the genre. While this method is formulaic, it does have two advantages, the first being that the story becomes very easy to follow. Overly complex details and anything truly thought provoking have been discarded, which is more than a little ironic as, in true shounen anime style, this simplistic approach is reflective of the content of the series. The second advantage is familiarity, and while it doesn't seem like an important factor, it does play a key role when it comes to enjoying this show.

Sadly, Ao no Exorcist also suffers from many of the problems that plague the shounen genre, partly because of the formulaic plot, but mainly because the series lacks the much of the depth needed to keep the story interesting. The lacklustre narrative is filled with bland humour and pointless angst, and because of these factors, the series has a tendency to veer off track. Although there are attempts to keep everything running smoothly, the underlying lack of creativity and complexity make this difficult to achieve. In addition to this, only a part of the manga has made the transition to anime, and much like the first adaptation of Full Metal Alchemist, the latter portion of the series is completely original - and it shows (more on this in a bit)

When it comes to looks, Ao no Exorcist is on surer footing, although a part of that is because this is a manga adaptation. The majority of the character designs are very typically shounen in style (even down to the short, bald guy), but while the source material adds a degree of refinement to their composition, there are also a few inherent limitations. That said, there's a surprising degree of creativity in the supernatural elements of the series, and a few of the weird and wonderful concepts really steal the show. There are also a few imaginative settings that make a nice contrast to the rather humdrum everyday scenery, and when everything comes together the overall effect can be colourful and slightly outrageous (in a good way).

As for the animation, A-1 Pictures have done a decent job for the most part, even with the typical shounen posturing and theatrics. The characters move well, if at times a little unrealistically, and the majority of action scenes are fluid and well choreographed. Unfortunately there are some noticeable occasions where the standard drops, and sadly these aren't limited to periods of frenetic activity.

The strong shounen theme is prevalent in the two opening sequences, both of which are filled with action, posturing, and a smattering of angst. In addition to this, the two introductory tracks, "Core Pride" by Uverworld (episodes 1 to 12), and "In My World" by Rookiez Is Punk'd (episode 13 onwards), are very typical rock songs that one might find at the beginning of any shounen anime. Ao no Exorcist also features two ending sequences, the first one being a CG "journey" through a city that is accompanied by "Take Off" by South Korean boy band 2PM. The second features a montage of the characters against a variety of patterned backgrounds, all to the tune of "Wired Life" by Kuroki Meisa. The rest of the soundtrack is features dramatic orchestral pieces and strange little comic relief ditties, and while these are generally well choreographed, as a whole there's nothing really special about the background music.

One of the biggest problems with the shounen genre is that it can often be too formulaic, and nowhere is this more apparent than in the dialogue. The script appears to have been written by people with no idea of how teenagers actually talk, and the conversations are filled with pointless banalities, angst ridden diatribes and cumbersome bravado. Everything's a bit too contrived, and to further compound matters, the voice actors have obviously been instructed to play their parts with extra "oomph". The result is that emotions like anger, frustration, joy, fear, etc, often involve lots of shouting, while the rest of the acting has enough ham to start a business making sandwiches.

The characters are a veritable "who's who" of stereotypes, and it can sometimes seem as though the mangaka has followed the instructions in "How To Make A Shounen Character" to the letter. Rin is the typical lead male - all brawn, very little brains, and tries to solve every problem by hitting it, and surrounding him are people who epitomise their archetypes. In addition to this, Ao no Exorcist makes the age old mistake of assuming that overcoming trials and tribulations equals development, and while some of the characters do learn a thing or two over the course of the series, much of what es for growth is nothing more than window dressing on a mannequin.

In all honesty the only interesting person in the whole show is Yukio, but given how shallow everyone else is, this may not be saying much.

Ao no Exorcist isn't a new concept, and much of the inspiration for the story has obviously come from Mike Mignola's "Hellboy". The sad part is that although the latter work is a gripping supernatural horror/thriller that touches upon many different cultural beliefs, legends and aspects of folklore, virtually none of that is present in this anime. The decision to make this a shounen tale has placed severe limitations on what can and cannot be done, and this means that the narrative can't achieve the atmosphere, the tone, or even the level of complexity of Hellboy.

Which brings us back to the latter portion of the anime.

Once the series moves away from the source material the story takes a slightly darker turn, and several themes are introduced that, if they had been used earlier, could have raised the show above mediocrity. Unfortunately these concepts are only lightly touched upon, which is a shame as there was an opportunity to take the anime in a direction that would have made it far more interesting than it actually is. That doesn't mean it should have gone done the path used by The Omen trilogy though (i.e. Rin becomes The Antichrist), but it would have been nice if the wistful, almost melancholy desire of his father was examined in more detail.

With all of its flaws it may seem as though Ao no Exorcist has nothing to offer, so it's surprising that the show is reasonably enjoyable. That said, the best way to treat this anime is to think of it as a rather long action movie that has difficulty getting to the point, and if it's watched for the sole purposes of no-brain entertainment, then viewers can expect a decent return for their time.

That said, with two live action movies, two animated features, and a world of difference in content, some people may find Hellboy a better proposition.

These days we take the written word for granted, but for the majority of human history this has not been the case. Over the millennia, those with the ability to communicate using these strange markings have been viewed with awe and suspicion in almost equal measure, and many believed that anything written was magical in some way. It's only logical then, that people would begin to think that certain works were holy writ handed down by a deity, held the secrets to immense power, or contained forbidden knowledge that would bring misfortune and death upon anyone who read them.

Eventually certain books were, for one ... reason or another, deemed too dangerous for the general public ...

Originally a light novel series by Mikumo Gakuto, Dantalian no Shoka (The Mystic Archives of Dantalian), takes place in England after World War 1. Hugh Anthony Disward (or Huey to his friends), returns to his ancestral home six months after receiving a letter informing him that his grandfather, Earl Wesley Disward, had been murdered by a burglar. According to the will, Huey can inherit the title, the estate, and everything contained within the mansion, but in return he must take over responsibility for the Bibliotheca Mystica de Dantalian, and look after Dalian as well.

Magical books have long been a staple of the fantasy genre, but unlike the majority of tales dealing with them, the main focus of Dantalian no Shoka is to seal away those works that were never meant to exist, or have fallen into the wrong hands. It's a reasonably simple idea that can work very well with an episodic plot (Mushishi, Natsume Yuujinchou and Mokke use a similar method), but sadly that isn't the case here. The straightforward premise doesn't seem to have been enough for the writers, who have very clearly tried to cram as much as possible into twelve episodes. The story can often get sidetracked or bogged down in semantics, and there is a tendency towards over-explanation and melodrama. In addition to this, there are several characters who appear to have been included just to show how "good" Huey and Dalian are, and because of these issues it can often seem as though the narrative has been cobbled together with hobnails and glue.

Now it may seem as though there's little of interest to be found in the story, but that's not actually the case. When the plot sticks to the point there's a surprisingly nice balance between the mystery and supernatural aspects, and there's a good deal of imagination in the way certain phantom books are used or affect people. The series also ventures into darker territory that suits the main theme of the show very well, but these occasions tend to be spoiled by some truly inane humour.

That said, while there are some major issues with the storyline, Gainax have done a decent job with the visuals. There are several different art styles on display that reflect the nature of certain episodes, especially in aspects like design and colouring. There are also some rather nice effects that work well with the detailed backgrounds to create some very atmospheric settings and scenery.

There are some issues that need to be raised though.

For some reason the animation tends to be rather simplistic, and while this seems to fit with one episode in particular, it does become a problem during action sequences. In addition to this, there's a certain "stiffness" to the character movements that may be an intentional dig at British reserve, but it's more likely due to carelessness or time/cost constraints. The character designs are unoriginal and uninspired, and while the clothing is somewhat reflective of the period, viewers will be forgiven for thinking that Dantalian no Shoka is nothing more than a copycat of Gosick.

The opening sequence is a decent montage that features the more prominent characters, some rather pleasant imagery, and a little action, all to the tune of "Cras Numquam Scire" (Tomorrow is Never to Know), by Yucca (featuring Ono Daisuke), a hauntingly choral track that is slightly reminiscent of "Lilium" - the opening song from Elfen Lied. The ending sequence is a short film about a little girl in a horned mask and white dress, walking barefoot through the forest while dragging a large trunk, and alongside the music box stylings of maRIONnetTe and their song "Yes, prisoner", the overall effect is decidedly ... unnerving.

Dantalian no Shoka is generally well served in the audio department, and there's a nice variety of classically themed tracks available, although it should be pointed out that the majority of the series is actually devoid of musical accompaniment. The effects are well choreographed, but rarely overbearing, and it seems that a conscious effort has been made to emphasize the quality of the script and the acting.

For the most part the dialogue is pretty decent, although there is a degree of immaturity about certain conversations, and the explanations can sometimes sound pompous and overbearing. Then again, the latter may be nothing more than a reflection of each role, especially as the actors deliver some good performance throughout the series.

There's something puzzling about the characters as there's very little in the way of actual development, but there's also not much definition given to them either. Aside from being unable to write off the supernatural as mere superstition, Huey doesn't actually grow in any way, and Dalian remains the stereotypical tsundere loli for much of the series. There's also very little attention given to the ing roles, in particular to the people using or afflicted by the phantom books, and one has to wonder if this was due to the attempt to cram so many different elements into the plot.

There's also the issue of Dalian's connection to the pink haired girl living in the "gourd", but that raises a lot of other questions, especially about Raziel and Flamberge, so if you really want to know, just ask (or Google it).

Aside from the similarity in the character design and the fact both shows try to wade through various mysteries, Dantalian no Shoka has surprisingly little in common with Gosick, but that's both a good and bad thing. The general lack of detail about the characters means that there's very little justification for their actions, and aside from Huey, the lack of any real back story means that many of the roles lack the necessary depth needed to take the story seriously. There's also a surpisingly pro-censorship message built into the narrative, and this isn't helped by the fact that the male lead is a lord, while Hal Kamhout, the Libricide officer, looks like a priest.

The biggest problem with the series is that it tries to do far more than it should, and because of that viewer's may be left with a feeling of incompleteness come the end of the anime. While the story is interesting up to a point, the morass of people and events mean that there are no outstanding moments, and nothing to really capture the heart. There is entertainment to be had from Dantalian no Shoka, especially for those who like shows laden with symbolism, but this is nothing more than a veneer of "intelligence" that overlays the shallowness of the series as a whole.

It's a shame that more effort wasn't put into making this anime work as the concept is actually pretty good. The basic premise is sound, and if Gainax, the writers, and director Uemura Yutaka had taken the show more seriously, then Dantalian no Shoka could have been something truly interesting and entertaining.

And for those of you wondering how an entire library can fit inside a person, here's an explanation from Sir Terry Pratchett's "Discworld Companion":

"Even big collections of ordinary books distort space and time, as can readily be proved by anyone who has been around a really old-fashioned second-hand bookshop, one of those that has more staircases than storeys and those rows of shelves that end in little doors that are surely too small for a full sized human to enter.

The relevant equation is Knowledge = Power = Energy = Matter = Mass; a good bookshop is just a genteel Black Hole that knows how to read. Mass distorts space into polyfractal L-space, in which Everywhere is also Everywhere Else.

All libraries are connected in L-space by the bookwormholes created by the strong space-time distortions found in any large collection of books."

"Haste makes waste."

Entertainment is a cut throat industry, and while every studio and publisher scrabbles around in a desperate search for the next big thing, they must continue to make ends meet in some way. When it comes to anime this is usually achieved by creating a one season adaptation of an existing manga, game or light novel, and the aim of these shows isn't simply to generate revenue, but also to test the market for potential franchises. There are other methods though, one of which is to string together several well known base concepts, add something resembling a story, and release the finished article ... as an "original" work.

Now while the latter method can produce some very good titles, more often than not the results are ... underwhelming.

Sacred Seven follows the exploits of Tandoji Alma, a seventeen year old high school student who leads a solitary life on the outskirts of a port city. One night he sees a ship on fire in the harbour, and whatever has caused the incident also triggers a reaction in him, one that he desperately fights off. The next evening Aiba Ruri, the CEO of the Aiba Foundation, pays him a visit in an attempt to recruit him, and she seems to know more about his secret than he does.

One of the problems with bringing together several "popular" themes is that all too often something fundamental is sacrificed in the process, and that's pretty much what happens here. The plot may initially seem interesting, but once the story gets going it quickly becomes clear just how rushed this show actually is. In addition to this there's a distinct methodology to the composition of the series, almost as if director Ohashi Yoshimitsu and writer Yoshida Shin adopted a "check-box" approach. Unfortunately this brings the major issues to the fore, one of those being the rather obvious drive to include certain scenes and events - some of which have no bearing on the story. There's also an automatic limitation placed on the narrative, and while the lack of imagination and creativity is palpable, it's the knock-on effect on the development of both the plot and the characters that really stands out.

In contrast to the lacklustre storyline Sunrise appear to have done a half-decent job with the visuals, and there's some interesting design work on display - especially where the monsters are concerned. The animation is a little on the utilitarian side, but there's a surprising fluidity and range of movement during many of the action scenes. In addition to this the characters are well realised, but this is tempered by the fact that they're also rather mundane and a little too reliant on certain stereotypes. This is also reflected in the banality of the settings and background imagery, and these factors attest to the speed with which this anime was completed.

Sadly, these aren't the biggest problems with the visuals.

There are several errors that any sort of basic quality control would quickly spot and rectify, one of those occurring at an auction in England where Aiba is bidding on a new gem. The auctioneer clearly states the closing price is £990,000, but the display reads £9,900,000, and while this may seem like nit-picking, it's the ridiculousness of the mistake that lowers the viewer's expectations of the show.

That said, the auctioneer does have one of the best British accents in anime, but that's one of the few high points where the acting is concerned.

No amount of preparation or talent can resolve the problems with a script that, like several other aspects of Sacred Seven, is too reliant on what has gone before. While the actors try to do the best they can, it seems to have been impressed upon them that their characters should speak or behave in certain ways. The dialogue is far too manufactured, and with little in the way of natural flow to balance conversations, this results in some severely wooden performances.

The strange thing is that the music seems to have received more care and attention than any other part of this anime, with much of the background music being well suited and choreographed to the on-screen action.

To many people it can seem as though Sacred Seven features two opening and three ending themes, when in truth all that happens until the end of the final episode is that the first OP and ED swap places. "Stone Cold" by FictionJunction is quite the upbeat techno track, and the opening animated sequence does a good job of introducing the main players whilst being stylized enough to be eye-catching. The second theme, "Kiseki" by Nanri Yuuka, is a more traditional blend of J-pop/rock, and its accompanying animation is well choreographed and suitably heroic. As for the third track, "Tsunagaru Made" by Nakajima Megumi is a much quieter song that plays out at the conclusion of the final episode..

Now some of you may have noticed that there has been no mention of ending sequences. The reason for this is simply because Sunrise, like so many other studios, don't think it's worth the effort of making a decent one, and aside from some spinning jewel thingies in the first ED, both rely on still images.

Strangely enough, this sentiment also appears to ring true where the characters are concerned, although ittedly part of this is due to the check-box approach taken by the director and the series writer. This is a heavily manufactured anime, and this fact becomes very clear when one considers not just the portrayal of each character, but the manner in which they develop as well. While it's true that Alma grows more than anyone else, the simple fact is that he starts the series as nothing more than a blank sheet with little to no personality, and given that situation it's very easy to make the character appear more defined by the end of the story. Sacred Seven uses age old methods to ensure this happens, including Alma's solitary lifestyle, hidden power and traumatic past.

Throw in some alien meteorites and you're supposedly on to a winner.

On the other hand Ruri is rather well defined from the beginning, but alongside this is the fact that she doesn't really change at all over the course of the anime. The only ing character to receive any kind of back story is her personal butler Kagami Makoto, but aside from giving the viewer a reason for his dedication to the Aiba family, he remains nothing more than a stereotype (you know, the intelligent, dark haired guy with glasses who's always stern and serious).

Everyone else is treated as narrative furniture, and given that Sacred Seven attempts to include some kind of human drama, this is nothing short of wasteful.

Even with its many flaws, Sacred Seven is still a surprisingly watchable series, and Onigawara offers some genuine moments of amusement that break up the monotony. While it falls just short of being "no-brain entertainment", the simple fact is that the heavily manufactured storyline and characters make it both familiar and easy to follow. Unfortunately the price of this is that far too many questions remain unanswered by the end of the anime, which is a shame as there were a few interesting ideas that really should have been given more detail. The sad part is that if more time had been given over to developing the series before it hit production, many of its issues could have been resolved - but as everyone knows, anime is a serious business.

One of the most basic rules of storytelling is that it should never be rushed, but in a world where time is money, such sentiments are normally viewed as idealistic nonsense.

One of the most annoying things about the anime industry is the seemingly ingrained belief that bandwagons, when jumped upon, have the mystical ability to carry studios into money. It's a sad fact that every season will undoubtedly see the release of one or more shows that clearly attempt to piggyback on the success of something that has gone before. Thankfully following trends isn't necessarily a bad thing, and every so often a series comes along that can be considered a superior example of its genre.

Unfortunately that also means that the majority of titles that do jump on the bandwagon are mediocre at best.

Originally a ... light novel series by Sugii Hikaru, Kamisama no Memochou (God's Memo Pad), tells the story of a socially awkward high school student, Fujishima Narumi, and his exploits with the NEET Investigation Firm (apparently "It's The Only NEET Thing To Do"). The story begins with a series of text messages that lead to a seemingly unrelated scene in a love hotel involving a school girl, a businessman, a delinquent of some sort, and an attempt at blackmail that ends with an ashtray to the head. Narumi, having recently moved to Tokyo, finds himself geographically challenged to the point where he's in a perfect position to see that same girl jump out of a window.

After that things get a bit random.

One of the major problems with Kamisama no Memochou is that the plot doesn't really have any particular goal or objective. The story is told in a series of short arcs that often have very little direct relation to each other, and while this does tie in to the idea of individual cases at an investigation firm, the lack of any real focus causes the narrative to meander before any conclusion can be reached. In addition to this there's a surprising degree of contrivance apparent in the development of the plot, and while it's true that certain events are necessary to implement the growth of particular characters, it's much more preferable to have such things implied, inferred or even insinuated.

That said, there are some interesting threads woven into the plot that lay a good foundation upon which the story can be told, and if one is able to ignore the obvious prefabrication in the narrative then there is a degree of entertainment to be found.

Which brings up the issue of the company that Alice runs.

NEET simply means "Not in Employment, Education or Training", which is a roundabout way of saying that a person is not just unemployed, but also has no real intention of finding a job. Given this fact, how can a NEET Investigation Firm exist when the simple act of working means that a person is no longer a NEET? To many folks it may seem like nothing more than splitting hairs, but in actuality it's the most prominent example of the mentality behind the series (more on this in a bit).

Because Kamisama no Memochou is set in the "real" world, there's a degree of mundanity to the artwork that is surprisingly well suited to the series. There's also little in the way of flamboyance where the characters are concerned, but while the design principle seems focused on normality, the series suffers from a certain tired old saw involving beauty and people who aren't very nice. On the plus side, the animation is pretty decent for the majority of the show, and is only really let down by some poorly incorporated CG or the odd repetition of particular sequences (there's one in the first episode - see if you can spot it).

The series opens with a rather straightforward introduction to the main of the cast, all to the tune of "Kawaru Mirai" by Choucho. On the other hand the main ending theme, "Asunaro" by Suzumura Kenichi, is set to a montage that focuses on Alice and Narumi, and features lots of tumbling negative words and rapid fire photos. In addition to this the first episode concludes with a a rather dizzying series of photographs and images against the backdrop of "Colorado Bulldog" by Mr. Big (and if you want to know who they are, google it or ask your older siblings or parents). As for the background music, while the tracks on offer are varied and atmospheric that doesn't mean that they're always necessary, and in truth several scenes would be better without any sort of accompaniment.

When it comes to storytelling it's often the case that a relatively weak plot will be masked by philosophical or psychological discussions, and that's pretty much what happens here. The script has a tendency to get bogged down in semantics and there seems to be an almost desperate need to expound upon the reasons for every action taken. Thankfully the voice actors are a pretty decent bunch, and while there are occasions where the performances are a little too excitable or overbearing, for the most part each role is handled fairly well.

One of the more interesting aspects of Kamisama no Memochou is the manner in which the characters interact with each other, especially the contrast between the established relationships and the manner in which Narumi's connections to everyone evolve over the course of the series. Now while this suggests some very good character development, sadly that's not the case as the story follows the old idea that drama leads to growth.

As the main lead much of the focus tends to fall on Narumi, but aside from certain events that force him to take charge he doesn't actually change very much until the last few episodes. One could argue that his introspective monologues are symptomatic of his evolution, but in truth the conclusions he reaches aren't reflected by any substantial changes in his personality. Right up to the end of the series he remains a figure who seems ill at ease with his role, and this seems like a wasted opportunity to explore what could have been a very interesting character.

The downside to this is the lack of attention given the rest of the cast, and there are a number of points that remain unanswered come the end of the show. Who is Alice? Why did she start a detective agency? How did the rest of the team gather? Not once does Kamisama no Memochou attempt to address these questions, and worse still, Narumi doesn't even ask them. Apparently his character is content to remain ignorant of things that anyone in his situation would naturally want to know.

Which neatly brings us back to the mentality behind the series.

Intelligence is a difficult thing to gauge when it comes to stories, and one of the common assumptions is that the reader or audience will be unable to understand the choices, motivations and actions of this or that person. Writers make an effort to counter this, and the usual response is to load the dialogue with lots of big words, philosophy, psychology, psuedo-science, and other highbrow musings. The problem is that they often become so enamoured with their own intelligence that they begin to lose sight of what's important, and elements begin to creep that really don't belong or should have been thought out properly.

In the case of Kamisama no Memochou this manifests itself not just in the name of the company. One has to question the basic premise of a girl of indeterminate age (but probably around 12 or13 years old), with a mild Dokupe addiction living alone surrounded by high tech equipment. In addition to that one has to wonder why a show about detectives and mysteries would need an episode dedicated to fanservice or baseball.

This series has the potential to good, if not great, but there are far too many occasions where it takes its cues from titles like Gosick, not the least of which is the inclusion of an eccentric loli detective and her well meaning, yet slightly bumbling "assistant". As with many other tales of mystery, there's an element of entertainment that stems mainly from the viewer trying to figure out who, what, why and how, but that's where the magic stops. Although there are occasions where the show is interesting, and sometimes a little charming, these are always overshadowed by one question - who is Alice?. The lack of any explanations about her places a burden on the narrative that remains throughout the series, and while the show tries to mysticise her character from time to time, this is nothing more than an attempt to stop the viewer asking unwanted questions ("it's magic so it doesn't need an explanation").

Kamisama no Memochou is, at best, an interesting mystery anime, but like so many other shows that are the product of jumping on the bandwagon, it relies too much on the success of titles like Gosick, and too little on what it could have been.

"Like father, like son. Like mother, like daughter"

There's an age old belief that certain traits are ed down from parents to children, and like most ancient convictions, there's an element of truth to this one. It's a well known fact that much of a person's future behaviour is learned during their formative years, and while it's true that children will instinctively copy the mannerisms and behaviours of the role models closest to them (which in most cases means their parents), even trained professionals and researchers can't fully explain the "inheritance" of less tangible traits like stubbornness, temper, perspicacity, etc.

But what does all that have to ... do with a show about a girl who goes off to work at a hotsprings inn? Well, not enough to be honest, and that's biggest problem.

Hanasaku Iroha (The ABC's of Blooming), is an original anime from P.A. Works that tells the story of Matsumae Ohana, a 16 highschool student who, due to a variety of circumstances regarding her mother, is forced to move away from Tokyo to live with her estranged maternal grandmother, Shijima Sui, at the hotsprings inn that she owns. Knowing that she has no choice in the matter Ohana tries to make the best of her situation, and at the request of her grandmother she begins working at Kissui Inn.

It all sounds like a fairly straightforward set up for some teenaged melodrama, and for the most part that's what viewers will get. The plot is functional, but the anime can often have difficulty getting to the point or sticking to the storyline, and there's little in the way of originality where the narrative is concerned. In addition to this there appears to be no real direction or cohesiveness with the progression of the series, and these factors may cause viewers to wonder when the story will offer up some actual development.

That said, there's a surprisingly interesting subtextual thread that runs through the plot (which we'll cover in a bit), but because of the numerous issues with the main storyline it's often overlooked. The sad part is that Hanasaku Iroha would have had a much, much better storyline if Okada Mari had simply removed certain events from the screenplay and tightened up the narrative.

Thankfully, some thought seems to have gone into the visuals.

P.A. Works deserve some applause for the effort they've made in producing Hanasaku Iroha as it's easily one of the better looking anime of 2011. The artwork tends towards realism rather than the cartoonish offerings of several titles I could mention, and while this allows for some rather picturesque backgrounds and settings, there are numerous occasions where the usage of various lighting effects create some truly stunning imagery. The animation is fluid, and unlike many other shows of this type, there's a surprising range of movement for both people and animals.

The characters are an interesting mix of styles and shapes that can sometimes appear a little plain, but in actuality there's a method to their design that may not be obvious at first glance. The thing to bear in mind is that the story takes place at a working hotsprings inn, and because of that Sekiguchi Kanami has tried to create a contrast with the picturesque surroundings.

One of the notable aspects of Hanasaku Iroha is the background music, or rather, the lack of it. There's a nice variety of styles on offer ranging from pastoral pieces (which in some cases sound a bit like elevator music), to upbeat little ditties, but it's the lack of musical accompaniment in many scenes that fits very well with the often quiet tone of the series.

Which is why the number of tracks used for the opening and ending themes seem ... a little too much.

Like many 26 episode anime, Hanasaku Iroha features two main opening and ending songs that change over at the midway point of the series. The show begins with a surprisingly well put together sequence that introduces the more prominent characters, but the track used for this, "Hana no Iro" by Nano Ripe, is a fairly bland piece that only works because of some good audio/visual choreography. In contrast to this closing sequence is a simple montage of Ohana and her three friends that has been set to "Hazy" by Sphere. From episode fourteen the opening track changes to "Omokage Warp" by Nano Ripe (again), which is a far more upbeat song than the previous one, and while the animated sequence is different to that of the first OP, the quality and content are pretty similar. The closing song, "Hanasaku Iroha" by Clammbon, is a feelgood ballad set to an animated image of Ohana and her friends, but unlike the other sequences it doesn't seem like much effort has been put into this one.

There are also two more ending themes, "Tsukikage to Buranko" (episode 6), and "Yumeji" (episode 8), once again performed by Nano Ripe, but there doesn't actually seem to be any real reason for their inclusion so one has to wonder why they were used in the first place.

Given the fact that this is a highschool drama, one might expect a degree of overemphasis when it comes to the acting, but there's surprisingly little of this in the dialogue. The script is well balanced between each of the roles, and while there are occasions where the seiyuu "fest it up", in general the voice actors deliver some very good performances. In addition to this there's a surprising, yet clear demarcation between the adult and teenage roles that is apparent not just in the manner of speech, but also in the language used.

One of the problems with the lack of direction and cohesiveness in the storyline is that it has a direct impact on the prominent characters, and this is the main reason why some viewers consider Ohana to be a very lacklustre lead role. Unfortunately, there's little in the dialogue that can actually raise her above average, and while there are clear efforts made to develop her character, these can often seem contrived or unnecessary.

That said, it's the ing characters who really steal the show.

From Ohana's mother, Matsumae Satsuki, to Kawajiri Takako, the business consultant for Kissui Inn, the adult roles are defined from the start of the series, and this makes a nice contrast to the somewhat vague characterisation of Minko, Nako and Yuina (Ohana's friends). The series also makes the effort to further develop several of the ing roles, and because of this the subtextual thread in the plot comes to light.

On the surface Hanasaku Iroha is nothing more than another teenaged melodrama, but underneath it's also a story about family and role models, and that aspect of the series is far more intriguing than much of the exisitng plot. The relationship between Sui, Satsuki and Enishi forms the cornerstone of everything that happens at Kissui Inn, and unlike many other anime out there the series handles the dynamics of this in a very realistic manner. Thanks to the efforts made to highlight how each person affects the other two, several minor but key clarifications of the storyline become apparent, the most notable being the reasons for the estrangement between Satsuki and her mother, Enishi's desperate attempts to win his mother's approval and finally step out of the shadow of his sister, and Ohana's festival wish at the end of the series.

Hanasaku Iroha isn't as good as it could have been, but that doesn't make it bad. If one is able to tolerate the tangents in the storyline then it really is a pretty decent show at its core, and it's a fairly good depiction of working life in a hotel. That said, at 26 episodes this series really is far too long, and it can often feel like certain events or situations were added only to fill the required number of episodes. Unfortunately the detrimental effect this has on the character interactions may lead to some viewers giving up on the show entirely,

The sad part is that if the series had been trimmed down and the subtextual plot given more prominence, this could easily have been a contender for the best anime of 2011, but as it is right now it's nothing more than another show that s the ranks of "Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda".

Raising a child isn't easy, and every parent or guardian knows just how taxing all of the daily tasks can be, the sacrifices that need to be made in of work and social life, and the almost constant stream of considerations and worries. The truth is that looking after children is one of the biggest causes of stress and grey hairs (or hair loss), amongst adults, but given that the majority of people in the world are (or will be), parents, it's a little odd that such a major topic is still a rarity in anime.

The again, who wants to watch a show about ... the trials and tribulations of raising children, especially when the steady diet of fanservice, explosions, brainless muscular heroes, top heavy heroines, nonsensical plots, pseudo-psychology, quantum-hokum, etc, are apparently what es for entertainment these days. It's a sad fact that in a medium where literally any story can be told, the ones that may actually cast anime in a positive light are constantly overlooked or ignored completely.

Which is why Usagi Drop is such a rarity.

Adapted from the josei manga by Unita Yumi, the story begins with Kawachi Daikichi, a 30 year old salesman who has returned home to attend a family funeral. During his stay he finds out that his deceased grandfather had an illegitimate daughter called Kaga Rin. Nobody knows who the girl's mother is, so the family begin arguing over who will raise her until Daikichi, who has become increasingly annoyed and disgusted by their behaviour, asks Rin if she wants to live with him.

Usagi Drop is one of those uncommon adaptations where the anime has tried to stay true to the source material, and while that does place a number of limitations on it, the series also manages to retain the charm of the manga. The story develops at a measured pace that can sometimes feel a little slow, and there's a surprising lack of over the top melodrama that is so often a hallmark of shows like this. The plot takes a much more mature approach to the issue of parenting than one might initially expect, and while certain problems that Daikichi is faced with are specific to Japanese society, the overall theme is one that will resonate with anyone who has raised children.

Which is also the reason why some viewers may not enjoy this anime, but we'll get to that in a bit.

In addition to the story, the artwork also tries to stay as true as possible to the source material. The characters are depicted in a stylized form, and the rather simplistic approach to emotions is surprisingly expressive. The design is focused on showing each person as an individual not only facially, but also in their build, posture, and even their movements. The animation is fluid, if a little utilitarian at times, and it's clear that attention has been paid to each character's physical traits and personalities. In addition to this each episode is preceded and concluded by short, but rather charming scenes that are notable for the watercolour style palette that is used in them. The dichotomy between these scenes and the style and colouration used in the main body of the narrative adds a nice, almost picture book touch to proceedings.

Between these shorts and the story proper lie the opening and ending sequences, both of which are designed with children's paintings in mind. The opening theme, "Sweet Drop" by Puffy AmiYumi (yes, they of Teen Titans and Hi Hi Puffy AmiYumi fame), is a surprisingly well suited J-pop song that's very much in keeping with Rin's character. In contrast to this the ending theme, "High High High" by Kasarinchu (a pop duo consisting of a beatboxer and a guitarist/singer), is more reflective of the overall atmosphere of the series.

As for the background music, Usagi Drop features a variety of tracks that are generally quite mellow or upbeat, but every so often the score is punctuated by a slow, simple piano piece to highlight the more sensitive moments of the story.

Now it's a trite thing to say that good acting can bring any type of story to life and give it the feeling of something new and different, but in this case it's actually a true statement. The simple yet natural script allows the seiyuu far more room to express themselves than one might expect, and with little in the way of manufactured melodrama, all of the cast (especially the child actors), are able to deliver some truly worthwhile performances.

The most interesting character in Usagi Drop is, without a doubt, Kawachi Daikichi. Part of the reason for this is because much of the story is told from his perspective, but he's also one of the most defined adult male leads in anime to date. From the start he is shown to be a complete individual with his own thoughts, habits and values, and rather than trying to develop him, the narrative is more focused on evolving him through his relationship with Rin, and the problems, worries and sacrifices he works through in order to be a good parent.

On the other hand Rin is very much how one would expect a child of her age to be - inquisitive, precocious, and somewhat withdrawn around people she doesn't know well. As with Daikichi, she doesn't really develop as a character, but instead what the viewer is shown is a little girl who is slowly coming to with her new life and coming out of her shell. Now this is surprising as it's a clear message about how resilient children actually are and how they are able to cope as long as they know they have the of the adults who care for them.

Speaking of , aside from the two leads there are a surprising number of well written characters in Usagi Drop, both adults and children, and it's their presence in the story that really rounds out the whole thing. The particularly strong friendship between Nitani Kouki and Rin for example, or the slightly befuddled attraction between Daikichi and Kouki's mother Yukari, all add to the overall charm of the series. In addition to this, one of the things that really stands out agi Drop is the lack of angst where relationships are concerned. While there are events like the death of Daikichi's grandfather, these don't cast a pall over the narrative, and this allows for some interesting interactions and dynamics to emerge, the prime example of this being the bond that develops between the two lead characters.

Usagi Drop is a simple, straightforward and charming tale about what it means to be a parent, and while the story and characters are presented in an ideal form, this doesn't really detract from one's enjoyment of the show. It goes without saying that anyone who has experience of raising children will be able to relate more readily to a number of the themes in the show, but it should be pointed out that the plot is simple enough to allow anyone to enjoy it.

Which brings us back to why some people won't like this series.

Aside from the sometimes slow pace, the main theme of the show is one that many younger fans (and even a few older ones), may not like, especially if their penchant is for action, heavy melodrama, etc. On the surface it can seem as though Usagi Drop is nothing more than another lighthearted slice of life drama that's only different from the likes of Aishiteruze Baby because a full fledged adult is cast in the role of parent instead of a teenaged playboy, but there's more to the show than that.

The simple fact is that this anime is one of those rare titles that doesn't use the word "mature" as a marker for violence, gore, sexual content, etc, and this makes it almost unique when one considers the shows that have been released this past year. The emphasis on realism, albeit in an idealized form, may also be a factor as there are a few people out there who want pure fantasy and escapism.

Whatever your opinion or taste, one thing remains true - Usagi Drop is clearly aimed at a more mature audience than the norm. The fact that it doesn't demean the creators with pointless gore, violence or fanservice, or insult the viewer's intelligence by explaining everything that happens, are what sets it apart from many other slice of life shows out there.

***THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS***

"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually, from a non-linear, non subjective viewpoint it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbley ... timey wimey ... stuff" - The Doctor

When it comes to entertainment, one of the easiest things to get wrong is the concept of time travel. Part of the reason for this is because our scientific understanding of "reality" is still in its infancy, and this means that the writers for shows like Doctor Who, Quantum Leap, even Star Trek, must apply their imagination and creativity in order to resolve some of the ... inherent paradoxes that will occur whenever a narrative decides to hop, skip or jump.

In other words, they make it up.

More often than not the implausibility of any sort of time travel is camouflaged with pseudo-science, techno-babble, and a good smattering of conversational quantum-hokum. These add a veneer of believability so that the average person can achieve the suspension of disbelief required to buy into the storyline. When it comes to anime though, the concept of travelling through time has generally lacked in substance, delivery, and even narrative relevance.

Until now ...

Originally a visual novel by 5pb and Nitroplus, Steins;Gate tells the story of Okabe Rintaro (the self styled mad scientist known as Hououin Kyouma), and his "colleagues" at the Future Gadget Laboratory, Hashida "Daru" Itaru and Shiina Mayuri. Okabe spends his days making strange inventions with Daru, and the oddest one so far is the Phone Microwave [name subject to change]. At first it seems as though this device does nothing more than turn bananas into a green, jelly-like substance, but it has a hidden side effect that no one knows about. Everything seems placid and normal until the day that Okabe and Mayuri decide to attend a lecture given by the eminent Professor Nakabachi on the subject of time machines and time travel.

For the most part Steins;Gate is a surprisingly well thought out series that applies the notion of cause and effect in a reasonably intelligent manner. The plot follows a logical, if somewhat timeworn progression, and while there are numerous recycles, repeats, reboots, and "do overs" that form an integral part of any time travel tale, these are handled in a way that would have turned Endless Eight from tedium incarnate into an arc that was at least watchable. The show throws around a number of concepts and theories to explain or justify certain aspects of the science fiction, and on quite a few occasions these have been woven into the main body of the plot very well. Ideas like the Butterfly Effect (which, given the visual cues, should be obvious to anyone), the Observer Effect and Schrödinger's Cat have been used to the problems caused by time travel (and their resolution), and in that respect Steins;Gate deserves a good deal of praise for trying to use science to the science fiction (and it does it far better than the likes of Puella Magi Madoka Magica).

Unfortunately it's not all fun and games.

One of the problems within the narrative is the inevitable conflict between human drama and science fiction, and in true anime fashion the emotional side wins out. This has the unfortunate effect of removing much of the chaos that is inherent in a story about time travel, and replacing it with predictability and melodrama. Thankfully the human side of the tale is handled in a surprisingly decent manner, but this is tempered by the fact that a number of basic questions are never actually addressed. The very nature of this anime automatically requires that certain aspects be resolved or explained, and while there are all sorts of "scientific" reasons flying around, the series tends to shy away from tackling certain first order issues like the Grandfather Paradox.

There's also the matter of the rather "neat" ending, but we'll get to that in a bit.

Steins;Gate is a very good looking series, but as with any adaptation from another visual medium, there's an automatic limitation placed on aspects like character design. That said, White Fox have produced a series that viewers may find appealing, if a little generic at times, and have used what they've been given to very good effect. The character animation is of a high standard, and many of the visual effects are imaginative and well choreographed (which should be no surprise given that White Fox also produced Tears to Tiara and Katanagatari). It's unfortunate then, that the typical anime mentality comes to the fore in the little details, the main one being the distinct lack of variety where clothing is concerned. Everyone seems to have only one outfit, which may seem a little picky to some, but imagine how you would feel if you wore the same underwear for three weeks while running around and in mostly warm weather.

This mentality also comes to the fore in the script, and while the majority of the dialogue in the show is actually pretty good, the usual shenanigans come out to play at times when there really doesn't need to be any more drama. Thankfully the voice actors are experienced enough to know how to deal with the scriptwriters' attempts at overcompensating for various shortcomings, and in truth they're the ones that carry this series. If it wasn't for the talents of Miyano Mamoru, Imai Asami, Seki Tomokazu, Hanazawa Kana, and the rest of the cast, Steins;Gate would quickly collapse under its own weight, and it's thanks to the seiyuu's abilities that the more technical or scientific portions of the script can be delivered in a manner that fits with the narrative.

The opening sequence features Hacking The Gate by Ito Kanako, a fairly average J-pop track track that has been set to a montage of most of the characters who seem to be deep in contemplation while a variety of clock faces, cogs and technical looking diagrams zip around the screen. On the other hand, The Twelve Time Governing Covenants by Sakakibara Yui works rather well as the closing theme, and for the most part the end sequence is a far more subtle and off kilter affair that is more in tune with the atmosphere of the series proper (until the last few seconds that is, and one has to wonder about the mentality of the person who thought ending the sequence like that was a good idea).

As for the background music, there's a rather nice variety of tracks that are often very subtly used. More often than not the series relies on mundane noises and silence, and because of that attention has been paid to the timing and usage of the score.

Steins;Gate has a core set of characters who are surprisingly well defined from the start of the series, but in of overall development much of the growth applies only to Okabe. Now this isn't really surprising given the events in the story, and to be honest the show is actually better with his character being the only one who truly changes. Okabe's development when dealing with the events that are rapidly spiralling out of control is handled in a sensitive yet realistic manner, and it's nice to see that the anime hasn't shied away from depicting the apathy he feels after experiencing a series of personally harrowing events.

Unfortunately the attempts to further develop some of the other characters tend to fall a little short of the mark, and this leads to a few situations that effectively remove the dramatic tension that has been painstakingly built up. The sad part is that while it's laudable to try and develop characters like Suzu, Mayuri, Feyris, and even Tennouji Yugo (Mr Braun), this should never come at the detriment of the main storyline.

Steins;Gate is a very entertaining series that isn't afraid to play around with various scientific concepts, but at the same time it clearly avoids tackling certain major issues related to time travel, and the focus on human drama can sometimes be at odds with the events in the storyline. That said, it's a very enjoyable anime that doesn't get too bogged down in technicalities, and while I rather liked the fact that Okabe cast himself in the role of mad scientist (complete with laugh), imagine my surprise at finding out he's supposed to be 18 years old.

Which brings us back to the ending.

There's a certain ... "clinical" ... feel to the conclusion that really doesn't sit too well, and while it's always nice to see a story end happily, one has to wonder about the plausibility of it all. The thing is, Steins;Gate uses a concept of time travel similar to that used in Quantum Leap, and therein lies the problem. Anyone who is familiar with the latter series knows that Dr Sam Beckett (an actual doctor, not an 18 year old first year student like Okabe), is unable to return to his original timeline because too many changes have been made to past events. In the nomenclature of Steins;Gate, he's moved across too many world lines and affected too many lives, and this is one of the major things that Steins;Gate glosses over completely. Now one could argue that the idea used in the series creates an effective escape clause, but that only covers certain people. The simple fact is that everyone you meet when you travel through time, no matter how brief the , is affected by your presence, so in order to return to one's original timeline, one must undo every with every person, even down to brushing shoulders with a total stranger on the street.

One of the other aspects that really should have been explored is Okabe's ability, Reading Steiner. At no point does the series delve into why he has this ability or how it works, and this is more than a little odd given how much importance is placed on "Fool yourself. Fool the world".

Even with those issues though, Steins;Gate is easily one of the better science fiction anime to appear in the last few years, and while there are areas that could have been improved upon, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Steins;Gate is an enjoyable romp in the realms of implausibility that delivers on several levels, and while the happy ending may not sit well with everyone, the conclusion to the story does offer a degree of catharsis.

It's just a shame that everyone seems to think you need a happy ending in order to make a story great.