NEW REVIEWS 10 “Target the Counterfeit Money Maker” & 11 “Wh
Jun 19, 2015 12:18:46 GMT -5
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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on Jun 19, 2015 12:18:46 GMT -5
10 Target the Counterfeit Money Maker
In previous reviews we’ve talked a lot about directors—Masaaki Ōsumi early in the series, Takahata Isao and Miyazaki Hayao (who, despite being the junior partner, left a more obvious imprint on Lupin III), but they’re not the only ones who exerted some sense of authorship on the show. There’s also the actual writer, Tōru Sawaki, who also penned such episodes as “One Chance for a Prison break” and “An Assassin Sings the Blues.” There’s a somewhat more mature, tragic undercurrent in Sawaki’s episodes, and that shows up here too. Though Masaaki’s gone, a bit of the spirit of the old episodes remains thanks to Sawaki’s continued involvement, though this is his final script, too.
“Target the Counterfeit Money Maker,” then, serves as a nice pivot point between the first and second halves of the shows, making it the last episode of the transitional period that started with “A Wolf is a Wolf.” And, in retrospect, we can see a lot of future Lupin and Miyazaki here—we get a showdown in a clock tower, a greater emphasis on flying machines, and an amping up of Lupin’s altruistic side. When faced with a bunch of counterfeit bills, he stamps them as counterfeit (again foreshadowing of The Castle of Cagliostro) rather than passing them on to people wit less-trained eyes—a Robin Hood warning Sherwood of fake money rather than redistributing real cash.
We also get, in the character of Lady Kowalski, one of the first female characters beyond Fujiko to display any sort of depth and who doesn’t serve as a lust object for Lupin. She’s prototypical of the stronger, older, independent (socially and financially) heroines we’ll see in the future.
While this episode still has a fairly high number of henchman deaths by Lupin’s gun, Madame Kowalski’s death has a definite weight to it, one both in keeping with Sawaki’s earlier scripts and Takahata and Miyazaki’s more cautious approach to violence. Ivanov is also the first character we’ve met who’s wanted to escape the underground—Lupin’s enthusiastic reception of Ivanov’s handiwork (calling him a “paper Superman”) is makes a marked contrast with Ivanov’s own, unromantic view of counterfeiting “because many people were killed because of it.”
Unfortunately, this is also the last episode where Fujiko’s complicated feelings about Lupin are even alluded to. Hired to shoot him down in the beginning, she has a moment of regret over her actions—in a reversal from the usual course of these episodes, it’s Lupin who takes advantage of Fujiko’s sentimentality to escape, planting on Fujiko a sarcastic goodbye kiss rather than vice-versa. It’s a brief scene, but deserves some sort of note. Fujiko’s emotions never reach the pitch that they did in Sawaki’s previous episodes, but they’re complex in a way they aren’t again.
And, as I write this review, I’m realizing that the episode doesn’t really hang together as well as I thought it did. It works well enough when you’re watching, but when trying to dissect it it’s a bit elusive. It’s also the last Lupin episode that relies more on mood and emotion to move forward. Lupin might be a clever thief, but there’s a sentimental undercurrent. Or at least there was until this point.
Stray Observations
• The episodes of Takahata and Miyazaki’s tenure tend to have imperative titles.
• The look of episode’s villain, the Ukrainian Baron, is another excellent example of the series’s quick slide from the sixties into the seventies, though I think a magenta suit was a bit outré even for the time.
• Fujiko’s Saab, despite being well suited for the snowy climate, has been supplanted by a BMW Neue Klasse for this episode, which is also one of the last to use more expensive European cars. The henchmen are driving Alfa Romeo Giulia coupes—the Giulia, like the Lupin series, is getting resurrected this summer.
Recommended?
Yes, though it’s a bit inessential—“An Assassin Sings the Blues” is a better goodbye to serious femme fatale Fujiko and while it’s interesting to see the proto-Miyazaki-isms there’s otherwise nothing that new here.
11 When the Seventh Bridge Falls
Although less explosive than the first half of the series, Takahata and Miyazaki did not necessarily shy away from violence—were surer to give it a punch. There’s a sense of scale of the first explosion as we see it light up Zenigata’s face. Small details have a big effect.
Although we’re still nowhere in particular “When the Seventh Bridge Falls,” the ambiguously Japanese settings of many of Masaaki’s episodes have given way to something more European. To me the name’s reminiscent of Euler’s puzzle about the seven bridges of Königsberg—there isn’t really much in the way of topology or graph theory in this episode, though the pattern at which the imaginary city’s bridges are destroyed does help Lupin understand what’s going on.
Rather than the high-stakes pulp of the first half of the series we’re faced with a puzzle. Rather than underworld connections and canny intuitions, it’s the geometry of streets and the technology of detonators that allow Lupin to figure out what’s going on. Rather than an explosive scheme to rob an armored van (as he would have in previous episodes) Lupin uses a perspective illusion to send it tumbling into a trap. Reason, not mood, rules the episode, and combined with the geometric contortions and fairy-tale look of the city it’s all a bit Escherian or Carrollian. Lupin’s curiosity even gets him captured by the episode’s villain, who sets a trap within the passageways of his castle lair.
Well, reason mostly rules. Lupin’s admitted “weakness for cute girls” is his motivator here. Lupin’s pressured into robbing an armored van by the episode’s villain (whose name I didn’t catch, if it’s given at all) when the villain unveils a buxom, tied-up blonde girl, Lisa. She’ll be killed unless Lupin does the robbery. It’s a bit perfunctory, and it’s surprising considering their later work how much a personality-less plot device she is. While she’s part of Takahata and Miyazaki’s strategy of making Lupin better family entertainment by having Lupin do a good deed along with his heist, Lisa feels like a step backwards compared to Fujiko, Madame Kowalski, or even Linda (LLLLiiiinn-daaaaa!) the “witch.”
Despite the clear, almost enlightened atmosphere of the episode—it even extends to the choice of colors, with Masaaki’s moody skies and autumn foliage replaced by clear blues and deep greens (I wouldn’t be surprised to see Newton bonked by a juicy red apple in the background)—clouds come overheads near the end as the resolution of the episode is treated with gravity. Lupin can still be dangerous and deadly, but there’s none of the malicious joie-de-vivre we saw early on. We’re truly in a new era.
Stray Observations
• Although we don’t see Jigen’s eyes often, it’s only a consequence of his hat and hairstyle, not some aesthetic rule. It’s still kind weird seeing him in scuba gear, though, with his unhidden eyes clearly framed by the mask.
• Zenigata’s pretty limber here.
• It might seem odd to day that the historic quarter of the city be cleared out, but it’s not terribly unusual in mid-century. In terms of shape and density the “Ghost Town” of this episode’s unnamed city actually resembled the neighborhoods that used to be near Waterlooplein in Amsterdam, which were cleared out for more modern housing (which is still controversial today, with some people lamenting the loss of heritage—this was the original Jewish Quarter—while others preferring the fact that there’s actually more, larger semi-affordable housing near the center).
Recommended?
Enthusiastically—it’s a new model of Lupin episode one of the best examples of its type.
In previous reviews we’ve talked a lot about directors—Masaaki Ōsumi early in the series, Takahata Isao and Miyazaki Hayao (who, despite being the junior partner, left a more obvious imprint on Lupin III), but they’re not the only ones who exerted some sense of authorship on the show. There’s also the actual writer, Tōru Sawaki, who also penned such episodes as “One Chance for a Prison break” and “An Assassin Sings the Blues.” There’s a somewhat more mature, tragic undercurrent in Sawaki’s episodes, and that shows up here too. Though Masaaki’s gone, a bit of the spirit of the old episodes remains thanks to Sawaki’s continued involvement, though this is his final script, too.
“Target the Counterfeit Money Maker,” then, serves as a nice pivot point between the first and second halves of the shows, making it the last episode of the transitional period that started with “A Wolf is a Wolf.” And, in retrospect, we can see a lot of future Lupin and Miyazaki here—we get a showdown in a clock tower, a greater emphasis on flying machines, and an amping up of Lupin’s altruistic side. When faced with a bunch of counterfeit bills, he stamps them as counterfeit (again foreshadowing of The Castle of Cagliostro) rather than passing them on to people wit less-trained eyes—a Robin Hood warning Sherwood of fake money rather than redistributing real cash.
We also get, in the character of Lady Kowalski, one of the first female characters beyond Fujiko to display any sort of depth and who doesn’t serve as a lust object for Lupin. She’s prototypical of the stronger, older, independent (socially and financially) heroines we’ll see in the future.
While this episode still has a fairly high number of henchman deaths by Lupin’s gun, Madame Kowalski’s death has a definite weight to it, one both in keeping with Sawaki’s earlier scripts and Takahata and Miyazaki’s more cautious approach to violence. Ivanov is also the first character we’ve met who’s wanted to escape the underground—Lupin’s enthusiastic reception of Ivanov’s handiwork (calling him a “paper Superman”) is makes a marked contrast with Ivanov’s own, unromantic view of counterfeiting “because many people were killed because of it.”
Unfortunately, this is also the last episode where Fujiko’s complicated feelings about Lupin are even alluded to. Hired to shoot him down in the beginning, she has a moment of regret over her actions—in a reversal from the usual course of these episodes, it’s Lupin who takes advantage of Fujiko’s sentimentality to escape, planting on Fujiko a sarcastic goodbye kiss rather than vice-versa. It’s a brief scene, but deserves some sort of note. Fujiko’s emotions never reach the pitch that they did in Sawaki’s previous episodes, but they’re complex in a way they aren’t again.
And, as I write this review, I’m realizing that the episode doesn’t really hang together as well as I thought it did. It works well enough when you’re watching, but when trying to dissect it it’s a bit elusive. It’s also the last Lupin episode that relies more on mood and emotion to move forward. Lupin might be a clever thief, but there’s a sentimental undercurrent. Or at least there was until this point.
Stray Observations
• The episodes of Takahata and Miyazaki’s tenure tend to have imperative titles.
• The look of episode’s villain, the Ukrainian Baron, is another excellent example of the series’s quick slide from the sixties into the seventies, though I think a magenta suit was a bit outré even for the time.
• Fujiko’s Saab, despite being well suited for the snowy climate, has been supplanted by a BMW Neue Klasse for this episode, which is also one of the last to use more expensive European cars. The henchmen are driving Alfa Romeo Giulia coupes—the Giulia, like the Lupin series, is getting resurrected this summer.
Recommended?
Yes, though it’s a bit inessential—“An Assassin Sings the Blues” is a better goodbye to serious femme fatale Fujiko and while it’s interesting to see the proto-Miyazaki-isms there’s otherwise nothing that new here.
11 When the Seventh Bridge Falls
Although less explosive than the first half of the series, Takahata and Miyazaki did not necessarily shy away from violence—were surer to give it a punch. There’s a sense of scale of the first explosion as we see it light up Zenigata’s face. Small details have a big effect.
Although we’re still nowhere in particular “When the Seventh Bridge Falls,” the ambiguously Japanese settings of many of Masaaki’s episodes have given way to something more European. To me the name’s reminiscent of Euler’s puzzle about the seven bridges of Königsberg—there isn’t really much in the way of topology or graph theory in this episode, though the pattern at which the imaginary city’s bridges are destroyed does help Lupin understand what’s going on.
Rather than the high-stakes pulp of the first half of the series we’re faced with a puzzle. Rather than underworld connections and canny intuitions, it’s the geometry of streets and the technology of detonators that allow Lupin to figure out what’s going on. Rather than an explosive scheme to rob an armored van (as he would have in previous episodes) Lupin uses a perspective illusion to send it tumbling into a trap. Reason, not mood, rules the episode, and combined with the geometric contortions and fairy-tale look of the city it’s all a bit Escherian or Carrollian. Lupin’s curiosity even gets him captured by the episode’s villain, who sets a trap within the passageways of his castle lair.
Well, reason mostly rules. Lupin’s admitted “weakness for cute girls” is his motivator here. Lupin’s pressured into robbing an armored van by the episode’s villain (whose name I didn’t catch, if it’s given at all) when the villain unveils a buxom, tied-up blonde girl, Lisa. She’ll be killed unless Lupin does the robbery. It’s a bit perfunctory, and it’s surprising considering their later work how much a personality-less plot device she is. While she’s part of Takahata and Miyazaki’s strategy of making Lupin better family entertainment by having Lupin do a good deed along with his heist, Lisa feels like a step backwards compared to Fujiko, Madame Kowalski, or even Linda (LLLLiiiinn-daaaaa!) the “witch.”
Despite the clear, almost enlightened atmosphere of the episode—it even extends to the choice of colors, with Masaaki’s moody skies and autumn foliage replaced by clear blues and deep greens (I wouldn’t be surprised to see Newton bonked by a juicy red apple in the background)—clouds come overheads near the end as the resolution of the episode is treated with gravity. Lupin can still be dangerous and deadly, but there’s none of the malicious joie-de-vivre we saw early on. We’re truly in a new era.
Stray Observations
• Although we don’t see Jigen’s eyes often, it’s only a consequence of his hat and hairstyle, not some aesthetic rule. It’s still kind weird seeing him in scuba gear, though, with his unhidden eyes clearly framed by the mask.
• Zenigata’s pretty limber here.
• It might seem odd to day that the historic quarter of the city be cleared out, but it’s not terribly unusual in mid-century. In terms of shape and density the “Ghost Town” of this episode’s unnamed city actually resembled the neighborhoods that used to be near Waterlooplein in Amsterdam, which were cleared out for more modern housing (which is still controversial today, with some people lamenting the loss of heritage—this was the original Jewish Quarter—while others preferring the fact that there’s actually more, larger semi-affordable housing near the center).
Recommended?
Enthusiastically—it’s a new model of Lupin episode one of the best examples of its type.
