20 Catch the Phony Lupin! 21 Rescue the Tomboy! (Best Yet?)
Aug 7, 2015 11:28:33 GMT -5
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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on Aug 7, 2015 11:28:33 GMT -5
20 Catch the Phony Lupin!
Both of this week’s episodes challenge Lupin’s identity, but the first does so in a fairly blatant way with a copycat thief, not just in methods (though he seems a bit more fond of brute force that our Lupin) but also in terms of identity, though I think signing every warning with “Original Lupin” is a bit of a tip-off.
This, as could be expected, attracts the attention of not just Zenigata but the actual (as opposed to original) Lupin as well. And it’s Lupin acting alone—while he jumbles Goemon and Jigen’s names into a pseudonym, the two don’t appear anywhere in the episode, nor does Fujiko. This gives the episode a bit of an edge—Lupin has no backup, and has to face off against both his regular antagonist and original Lupin.
Original’s conceit’s pretty quickly dropped. It turns out he comes from an island populated entirely by thieves (who, I guess, grow melons on the side—melons from the island are what lead Zenigata there). While this community of thieves has apparently sustained themselves for a long time, their robberies have only kicked into high gear thanks to the acquisition of this episode’s main treasure—the first Arsène Lupin’s book of methods and manners for the advanced thief. For once Lupin’s the victim of the crime, and it’s not just his identity—it’s his working knowledge too.
It’s an interesting hook for the episode, but the delivery is a bit is still in the mode of “…and then this happens, then that happens…” that typifies a lot of the Takahata/Miyazaki era episodes, relying on set pieces to move the story forward (good) or fill time (less good). We get a bit of both here—there’s a very MXC-esque trial Lupin has to go through with falling boulders (filler), but the mechanical hut interiors used for hiding treasure work nicely.
The resolution is another instance of the unusual effectiveness of Lupin’s disguises (though there’s little doubt we’re dealing with Lupin here—something about the eyes), but it’s enlivened by the sheer number of adversaries Lupin has to escape from alone. Crime usually doesn’t pay in these later episodes, but nor does righting one if the object is itself criminal—Lupin I’s book slips from Lupin III’s hand in mid-air. It’s a silly little chuckle for a silly little episode.
Stray Observations
• This episode features not only a phony Lupin but a mechanical one, too—Miyazaki’s fascination with automatons emerges in the Lupin franchises (I’ll elaborate more on this in the coming weeks), but this is the second time so far we’ve seen animatronics come to violent deaths (the first being in “When the Seventh Bridge Falls” as a demonstration).
• Miyazaki’s automotive Francophilia has extended to the Tokyo Police, which are now driving Citroën DS/ID’s rather than the typical period Toyota sedans.
• Genghis Khan’s crown looks oddly European.
• Lupin’s numb, oil-stained hands when he’s hanging onto the underside of original Lupin’s truck are a nice, naturalistic touch that helps sell how he’s desperate to the point of foolhardy in his pursuit of original Lupin.
• Zenigata has a rather dashing headshot of Lupin to show the villagers—shades of “my nemesis.”
Recommended?
I’m neutral on this one—there’s a lot of good craftsmanship and some nice ideas underlying it, but ultimately the episode feels mostly like filler.
21 Rescue the Tomboy!
One thing that has been lacking since the transitional period between the first and second Lupin production teams has been sentiment. Although it was more violent and more anarchic in its use of humor, it also had a more serious streak—ridiculous levels of immunity to harm existed with the very real danger of injury to our mains, Lupin remained detached but couldn’t always totally separate himself from the situation, Fujiko sometimes had to deal with conflicting feelings about Lupin, and there was little romance about their underworld.
That disappeared rapidly after the tenth episode or so—while Takahata and Miyazaki clearly had reservations about the suitability of thieving (and killing, lusting, &c.) for children’s television, their approach was largely to ignore the underworld’s seamier aspects. Theft basically becomes a game—this works exceedingly well in some places (“The Emerald’s Secret”) but falls flat in others: “Lupin Caught in the Trap” basically ends in shared laughter despite a denouement involving multiples levels of betrayal and a car bomb. The moral content comes not from criticizing Lupin and company’s lifestyle as very materialistic thieves, but in giving them such a low success rate.
The best episodes of Lupin III since “Target the Counterfeit Money Maker”—the end of the proper transitional period between the original and new staffs—have tended to be the ones that have Lupin either untying Gordian knots, solving some intricate problem with a bit of creative thinking, or re-tying them with elaborate schemes. This approach plays to Takahata and Miyazaki’s skill in developing set pieces, though with “Catch the Phony Lupin” we can see how it can fall flat.
“Rescue the Tomboy!” brings sentiment back into the series, though on Takahata and Miyazaki’s own terms. While Masaaki’s earlier episodes tended to use Fujiko to inject some sentiment, this was on grounds that are a bit too grown-up for Takahata and Miyazaki’s interpretation of the series. They also go the route of using a female character as a vehicle for sentiment, a new one-off character named Rie.
In retrospect Rie is a sort of prototypical Miyazaki ingénue—plucky, independent but also innocent (“tomboy” seems an overstatement—though she’s physically active Rie doesn’t do any thing more masculine than horseback riding). Sentimental stories with Fujiko involved her doing things like shooting her ex-partner (after being critically wounded herself), and Fujiko has been depicted both as far too competent to need rescuing and, since the Takahata and Miyazaki take over, too integrated into the group to provide the sort of initial antagonism to Lupin and Jigen provides.
It’s Rie’s innocence that the episode really uses, though (and this really would have been impossible with Fujiko)—Rie’s father was an associate of Lupin II who left the underworld to live out a respectable life, while Rie’s uncle hasn’t abandoned his life of crime and has been essentially holding Rie in a very pleasant golden cage (Rie doesn’t even realize there’s a conflict between the two and is under the impression she’s just staying with a relative for an extended period). Logistically, Lupin’s job is relatively straightforward—bring Rie back to her father—but he has to do so without revealing her father’s past.
This also means we get the first glimpse of Lupin as a true gentleman-cambrioleur. So far, the gentleman side of Lupin’s primarily been expressed via various cool mid-century rich guy accouterments—race cars, tie clips, &c.—plus a certain laid back, relaxed, almost dandyish attitude towards some of his heists (although he’s sometime a meticulous planner, often Lupin works on pure sprezzatura). Here’s the first time we really see him upholding the gentlemanly conduct side of things.
And it works quite well. The episode consists a series of chases as Lupin’s pursued by both Rie’s uncle and Zenigata; they’re always outgunned and outran (I don’t know the last time we saw Lupin’s SSK) and Lupin’s always able to barely scrape beyond based on skill and luck. They’re excellently-done chases (foreshadowing Miyazaki’s future film works) and even on their own would have worked very nicely; what makes “Rescue the Tomboy!” special is how the thematic punch of the story evolves along with the chases. Rie learns the truth about her uncle and father (and maybe a little about herself), but Lupin also goes through an apparent evolution as the episode moves forward. At first he’s just a thief (and the bit of sexual menace that comes with a grown man stealing a sixteen year-old is kept under the surface, but clearly able to be inferred), but with progressive stage in the chase we see Lupin’s a bit better and more honorable than he claims to be. By the end he’s essentially the flower of chivalry, but knows that he can’t jeopardize his standing as the world’s greatest thief.
“Rescue the Tomboy!” ends on an unresolved but powerful note. The chase goes on—there’s no alternative for Lupin—but we know now that he’s something more than just a skilled thief with excellent taste. It’s not a case of honor among thieves but honor among one thief. By the end Rie has a bit of a crush on Lupin and there may be some degree of mutuality (the ending is ambiguous as to whether Lupin is longing for Rie, for a life beyond the underworld, or both), but it’s not an instance of Lupin being at least partly motivated by lust as in “When the Seventh Bridge Falls” (or even way back in “Farewell, My Beloved Witch”). Lupin and Rie develop a liking for one another as the episode progresses. There’s a real sense of development and maturation here, which makes “Rescue the Tomboy!” in rare company in the Lupin franchise.
Stray Observations
• It’s probably some kind of bullshit that Lupin tends to use female characters whenever it wants to make an emotional impact, but the episodes are good, have a bit more depth, and at least in this series tend not to fall too far into period stereotypes so I’m not complaining.
Recommended?
Wholeheartedly—in some ways it feels like a trial run for The Castle of Cagliostro.
Next week “The First Move Wins the Computer Operation” and we end the series with “The Great Gold Showdown!” Or hopefully we do—my schedule next week is still in flux given my upcoming transatlantic-followed-by-transcontinental move.
Both of this week’s episodes challenge Lupin’s identity, but the first does so in a fairly blatant way with a copycat thief, not just in methods (though he seems a bit more fond of brute force that our Lupin) but also in terms of identity, though I think signing every warning with “Original Lupin” is a bit of a tip-off.
This, as could be expected, attracts the attention of not just Zenigata but the actual (as opposed to original) Lupin as well. And it’s Lupin acting alone—while he jumbles Goemon and Jigen’s names into a pseudonym, the two don’t appear anywhere in the episode, nor does Fujiko. This gives the episode a bit of an edge—Lupin has no backup, and has to face off against both his regular antagonist and original Lupin.
Original’s conceit’s pretty quickly dropped. It turns out he comes from an island populated entirely by thieves (who, I guess, grow melons on the side—melons from the island are what lead Zenigata there). While this community of thieves has apparently sustained themselves for a long time, their robberies have only kicked into high gear thanks to the acquisition of this episode’s main treasure—the first Arsène Lupin’s book of methods and manners for the advanced thief. For once Lupin’s the victim of the crime, and it’s not just his identity—it’s his working knowledge too.
It’s an interesting hook for the episode, but the delivery is a bit is still in the mode of “…and then this happens, then that happens…” that typifies a lot of the Takahata/Miyazaki era episodes, relying on set pieces to move the story forward (good) or fill time (less good). We get a bit of both here—there’s a very MXC-esque trial Lupin has to go through with falling boulders (filler), but the mechanical hut interiors used for hiding treasure work nicely.
The resolution is another instance of the unusual effectiveness of Lupin’s disguises (though there’s little doubt we’re dealing with Lupin here—something about the eyes), but it’s enlivened by the sheer number of adversaries Lupin has to escape from alone. Crime usually doesn’t pay in these later episodes, but nor does righting one if the object is itself criminal—Lupin I’s book slips from Lupin III’s hand in mid-air. It’s a silly little chuckle for a silly little episode.
Stray Observations
• This episode features not only a phony Lupin but a mechanical one, too—Miyazaki’s fascination with automatons emerges in the Lupin franchises (I’ll elaborate more on this in the coming weeks), but this is the second time so far we’ve seen animatronics come to violent deaths (the first being in “When the Seventh Bridge Falls” as a demonstration).
• Miyazaki’s automotive Francophilia has extended to the Tokyo Police, which are now driving Citroën DS/ID’s rather than the typical period Toyota sedans.
• Genghis Khan’s crown looks oddly European.
• Lupin’s numb, oil-stained hands when he’s hanging onto the underside of original Lupin’s truck are a nice, naturalistic touch that helps sell how he’s desperate to the point of foolhardy in his pursuit of original Lupin.
• Zenigata has a rather dashing headshot of Lupin to show the villagers—shades of “my nemesis.”
Recommended?
I’m neutral on this one—there’s a lot of good craftsmanship and some nice ideas underlying it, but ultimately the episode feels mostly like filler.
21 Rescue the Tomboy!
One thing that has been lacking since the transitional period between the first and second Lupin production teams has been sentiment. Although it was more violent and more anarchic in its use of humor, it also had a more serious streak—ridiculous levels of immunity to harm existed with the very real danger of injury to our mains, Lupin remained detached but couldn’t always totally separate himself from the situation, Fujiko sometimes had to deal with conflicting feelings about Lupin, and there was little romance about their underworld.
That disappeared rapidly after the tenth episode or so—while Takahata and Miyazaki clearly had reservations about the suitability of thieving (and killing, lusting, &c.) for children’s television, their approach was largely to ignore the underworld’s seamier aspects. Theft basically becomes a game—this works exceedingly well in some places (“The Emerald’s Secret”) but falls flat in others: “Lupin Caught in the Trap” basically ends in shared laughter despite a denouement involving multiples levels of betrayal and a car bomb. The moral content comes not from criticizing Lupin and company’s lifestyle as very materialistic thieves, but in giving them such a low success rate.
The best episodes of Lupin III since “Target the Counterfeit Money Maker”—the end of the proper transitional period between the original and new staffs—have tended to be the ones that have Lupin either untying Gordian knots, solving some intricate problem with a bit of creative thinking, or re-tying them with elaborate schemes. This approach plays to Takahata and Miyazaki’s skill in developing set pieces, though with “Catch the Phony Lupin” we can see how it can fall flat.
“Rescue the Tomboy!” brings sentiment back into the series, though on Takahata and Miyazaki’s own terms. While Masaaki’s earlier episodes tended to use Fujiko to inject some sentiment, this was on grounds that are a bit too grown-up for Takahata and Miyazaki’s interpretation of the series. They also go the route of using a female character as a vehicle for sentiment, a new one-off character named Rie.
In retrospect Rie is a sort of prototypical Miyazaki ingénue—plucky, independent but also innocent (“tomboy” seems an overstatement—though she’s physically active Rie doesn’t do any thing more masculine than horseback riding). Sentimental stories with Fujiko involved her doing things like shooting her ex-partner (after being critically wounded herself), and Fujiko has been depicted both as far too competent to need rescuing and, since the Takahata and Miyazaki take over, too integrated into the group to provide the sort of initial antagonism to Lupin and Jigen provides.
It’s Rie’s innocence that the episode really uses, though (and this really would have been impossible with Fujiko)—Rie’s father was an associate of Lupin II who left the underworld to live out a respectable life, while Rie’s uncle hasn’t abandoned his life of crime and has been essentially holding Rie in a very pleasant golden cage (Rie doesn’t even realize there’s a conflict between the two and is under the impression she’s just staying with a relative for an extended period). Logistically, Lupin’s job is relatively straightforward—bring Rie back to her father—but he has to do so without revealing her father’s past.
This also means we get the first glimpse of Lupin as a true gentleman-cambrioleur. So far, the gentleman side of Lupin’s primarily been expressed via various cool mid-century rich guy accouterments—race cars, tie clips, &c.—plus a certain laid back, relaxed, almost dandyish attitude towards some of his heists (although he’s sometime a meticulous planner, often Lupin works on pure sprezzatura). Here’s the first time we really see him upholding the gentlemanly conduct side of things.
And it works quite well. The episode consists a series of chases as Lupin’s pursued by both Rie’s uncle and Zenigata; they’re always outgunned and outran (I don’t know the last time we saw Lupin’s SSK) and Lupin’s always able to barely scrape beyond based on skill and luck. They’re excellently-done chases (foreshadowing Miyazaki’s future film works) and even on their own would have worked very nicely; what makes “Rescue the Tomboy!” special is how the thematic punch of the story evolves along with the chases. Rie learns the truth about her uncle and father (and maybe a little about herself), but Lupin also goes through an apparent evolution as the episode moves forward. At first he’s just a thief (and the bit of sexual menace that comes with a grown man stealing a sixteen year-old is kept under the surface, but clearly able to be inferred), but with progressive stage in the chase we see Lupin’s a bit better and more honorable than he claims to be. By the end he’s essentially the flower of chivalry, but knows that he can’t jeopardize his standing as the world’s greatest thief.
“Rescue the Tomboy!” ends on an unresolved but powerful note. The chase goes on—there’s no alternative for Lupin—but we know now that he’s something more than just a skilled thief with excellent taste. It’s not a case of honor among thieves but honor among one thief. By the end Rie has a bit of a crush on Lupin and there may be some degree of mutuality (the ending is ambiguous as to whether Lupin is longing for Rie, for a life beyond the underworld, or both), but it’s not an instance of Lupin being at least partly motivated by lust as in “When the Seventh Bridge Falls” (or even way back in “Farewell, My Beloved Witch”). Lupin and Rie develop a liking for one another as the episode progresses. There’s a real sense of development and maturation here, which makes “Rescue the Tomboy!” in rare company in the Lupin franchise.
Stray Observations
• It’s probably some kind of bullshit that Lupin tends to use female characters whenever it wants to make an emotional impact, but the episodes are good, have a bit more depth, and at least in this series tend not to fall too far into period stereotypes so I’m not complaining.
Recommended?
Wholeheartedly—in some ways it feels like a trial run for The Castle of Cagliostro.
Next week “The First Move Wins the Computer Operation” and we end the series with “The Great Gold Showdown!” Or hopefully we do—my schedule next week is still in flux given my upcoming transatlantic-followed-by-transcontinental move.
