On Kara no Kyoukai Blu-ray Discs
Wednesday, December 22nd, 2010Speaking objectively, I think that the Kara no Kyoukai movies are a mixed bag, yet they still represent just about the epitome of what American otaku traditionally seek in anime. The films are lushly drawn, consistently grim, rather pretentious, periodically violent, and highly stylistic. I’ve long thought that the anime which most epitomizes the idealized consumate anime, in the amorphous perception of the American otaku, is the Jubei Ninpocho movie. I’ve long thought that the ideal depiction of the characteristic elements which American otaku subconsciously expect anime to be is the first episode of the ROD OVA series. The Kara no Kyoukai movie franchise delivers that idealization with a pretentious sense of intellectual and artistic integrity mixed in. However, despite that, I’ll still say that the third KaraKyo movie remains one of the most stunning and memorable singular anime feature films I’ve ever watched. Particularly fans of Bakemonogatari should give KaraKyo (and I just made up that abbreviation myself, unless I’m remembering it subconsciously) a shot because Kara no Kyoukai is literally a cousin of Bakemonogatari that trades quick-cut editing, impressionistic art design, and rhetorical philosophy for slow paced clacissism, gothic modern photorealism, and abstract, pretentious philosophy. In effect, KaraKyo feels like Bakemonogatari directed by Mamoru Oshii instead of Akiyuki Shinbo: very similar content, just a presentation that’s equally obtuse in the diametrically opposite extreme.
There are few anime which I immediately think that would deserve or even demand the full visual and audio benefits of Blu-ray clarity and resolution. The KaraKyo series (and Seirei no Moribito) are among the few titles that do immediately suggest themselves. If there’s any singular anime feature worth $75 on Blu-ray, the third KaraKyo movie is the easiest for me to justify, followed by the first and fifth films. However, the second film may be narratively pivitol, but it’s also sickeningly pretentious and so expository that it’s really a lousy film when taken independent of its role of providing context for the films that surround it. The fourth film is among the best of the seven, but it’s also a dialogue-centric chamber piece with only one brief action sequence. The sixth film feels entirely shoehorned in, and despite having a beautifully rendered climax still feels unfulfilling and anti-climactic. The seventh film should have a tremendous affective impact, but it’s so overwrought and largely underwritten that it cuts away much of its own potential. The strengths and high water marks of the movie franchise are undeniable, yet they’re compromised by the weaker entries, making the franchise a case of having to take the good with the bad.
