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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on Jan 22, 2016 21:21:00 GMT -5
Note: I was delayed in finishing the follow-up, but this review takes off from the problem highlighted in my review of Jigen’s Gravestone—how to make Lupin work for modern audiences, and in a modern age. Jigen’s Gravestone sidestepped the problem by being a period piece, whereas Lupin III: Part IV tackles it head-on.
Lupin III Part IV: An Overview Thus Far Or, Yes We Can All Call this the Blue Jacket SeriesThe other approach to continuing on with Lupin is just to continue with it—keep the characters in the present day while keeping them constant. It’s notable that this is the first “straight” Lupin series since the “Pink Jacket” Lupin III Part III series of 1984-85. Since there hasn’t been a regular series since 1985, nor a series universally considered successful since Lupin III Part II went off the air in 1980, Part IV has very large shoes to fill. And by keeping things in the present day it again faces the challenge of keeping the analog characters working in a digital age. Luckily, it’s a challenge the series directors have largely managed to meet. As the TV specials proceeded through the nineties and early 2000s they tended to push Lupin and company further underground, into a cartoony world of shadowy organizations and and outrageous plots, retreating from the changing reality outside. Part IV actually goes in the opposite direction, mostly keeping Lupin above ground, at least at first. This is accomplished, as is Jigen’s Gravestone, by careful choice in setting—though contemporary, Part IV takes place in Italy (or rather the Italian peninsula, since much of the show takes place in San Marino). Now, Italy is better than its reputation—world’s eighth largest economy, tied for second in life expectancy, yada yada yada—but it still projects an image just sleazy and backwards enough for the Lupin gang to comfortably operate (they even commit some petty thefts in broad daylight), while providing ample culture to serve as inspiration for unique new thefts. Italy looks good too, and the series has great light and color. Despite the departure of Koike and company and the overall softening of the look, aspects of their character designs do hold over. The characters’ limbs are lanky, and the color schemes have clearly evolved from A Woman Called Fujiko and Jigen’s Gravestone (Fujiko’ still a redhead, Zenigata’s still handsome, Jigen still favors purple shirts—he’s again somewhere at the border of disheveled and over-styled). Their behavior, though, has been more softened to a point more in-line with most previous outings. While Italy does fairly well in many development indices, one where it lags is in women’s equality, where it’s worst in Europe. This could have been an excuse to let Lupin’s macho element fly, but Part IV decides to push against the Italian reputation for sexism, though without subtlety. Then again, sexism isn’t always subtle—the section on underage workers in the Prostitution in Italy wikipedia article is a pretty depressing four paragraphs. Part IV goes to the underage prostitution and abuse well a little too often in too short a time. Having sexually predatory antagonists is nothing new for Lupin, of course, but the series has still grown in its treatment of its female leads (at least so far). There’s been no rescuing Fujiko nor any threats of rape against her (there’s still some cheesecake in the opening), or at least none so far. Lupin does his old jumping out of his clothes routine, but it’s at the invitation of his wife on his wedding night (he’s thwarted by some kind of chastity agreement she has to keep up). Yes indeed, Lupin does get married in the first episode, to the new character of Rebecca. Early descriptions of her sounded obnoxious: a media-savvy heiress, she read (to me) a bit like a Poochy, someone to jolt the Lupin team into the twenty-first century in the worst possible way. And Rebecca is obnoxious for a while, but by design . Her marriage to Lupin quickly becomes one in name only, and for the first half of the series she’s alternatively a thorn in Lupin’s side or a collaborator in Lupin’s schemes. The new Lupin team deserves credit for essentially bringing in a new lead character and integrating her well with the existing cast. And wisely they chose not to involve every character in every episode, including them as much as the story demands rather than shoehorning them in (Rebecca probably appears more often than Goemon, even). Credit is also due for finally establishing a good recurring cast (addressing a criticism I had a couple weeks ago, and no, that poor little homophobic stereotype Oscar from The Woman Called Fujiko doesn’t count). There’s Rebecca’s faithful servant Robson on the side of our characters, but more importantly we actually get a good recurring antagonist in Nyx. At least initially he seems to be a Bond clone, which isn’t really a problem since Lupin originated as something as a response to Bond, making it fun to watch a competition between the two. Nyx quickly develops into someone quite distinct from his British forbearer as well, making him an interesting character in his own right. And the competition between them really hits at the core of how to adapt Lupin to the present day—Nyx is no analog antagonist and (when not in trouble with his higher-ups) has the full power of the surveillance state as his disposal when chasing Lupin in his hybrid-electric BMW supercar. Lupin remains low-tech—not only is he still driving a vintage 500 (not the retro revival—sorry, Sergio), but in his first encounter with Nyx he actually competes with him on foot. Lupin uses a computer (as does Jigen, and Jigen with a laptop looks really out of place), but only incidentally. In the most recent installment he isn’t even carrying a cell—that might be a writer’s oversight, but can you blame him? Lupin has to, against impossible odds, win against villains better-prepared technologically, and he does that in the classic way—exploiting small weaknesses, leveraging his gang (and Rebecca), and knowing how to maximize his luck. So, in terms of setup, the series is just about perfect. But how do the episodes themselves actually fare…we’ll see tomorrow.
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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on Jan 23, 2016 14:00:13 GMT -5
The Standalone EpisodesNo spoilers as to how the plots unravel, though I do mention stuff about the episodes’ premises and some notable detailsHistorically there’s been little continuity between Lupin episodes (though we’ll be covering the rare classic two-parter next week). The Woman Named Fujiko Mine addressed this pretty ingeniously by turning the seemingly disparate adventures early in the season into puzzle pieces near the end. That isn’t as feasible an option for Part IV: it’s over twice as long, making it harder to make a coherent puzzle, and as a prequel The Woman Named Fujiko was able to include more character development—Lupin’s gang was getting acquainted for the first time, whereas here their dynamics are all well-established and, since the series is designed as a return to normalcy, probably won’t be reshuffled. Thus we get the old cliché: arc episodes that advance a season-wide plot and standalone episodes that serve as little diversions. Although I generally am a fan of episodic television (and brevity is often Lupin’s ally), the standalone episodes tend to all be, contra the Anna Karenina principle, disappointing in the same way (and often very disappointing indeed). They tend to the more touristic episodes, and I mean that it two ways—they’re meant to showcase something about Italy, and our lead characters are only visitors, letting the guest cast take the lead. The problem is that their stories are generally uninteresting—you’ll recognize the basic beats from somewhere else, and they are typically Italian in fairly stereotypical ways. They feel not Lupin III episodes, but vignettes the gang happened to stroll into. With that, let’s go episode-by-episode: 2 The Fake Fantasista: InessentialIt’s on the good side of inessential, though, with a number of nice little details that make the episode work. It’s appropriate that the second episode of a show featuring a bunch of con artists in Italy deals with betting on football, but what helps elevate the episode is the fact that it treats football—and football stars—as kind of annoying (I personally hate Italian football and my edition of the Inferno would put Marco Materazzi in Brutus’s place), an attitude I am familiar with from non-football fans in the Netherlands. There is a nice twist to the story, though, and even if it isn’t fundamentally Lupin’s he plays a nice, borderline noble role in it. This episode also starts off a mini-trend of having the twist of the episode explained via flashback by one of the leads (Lupin in this case), like it were the end of a Mystery installment. Luckily the series outgrows this. In a throwaway scene there’s also a bit of setup for episode three, where it’s revealed Lupin’s gotten access to MI6’s surveillance data. It’s also where we get Jigen incongruously operating a laptop in a cafe. 4 With a Gun in My Hand: RecommendedThe Mystery conceit works better here, especially since it’s Zenigata doing the detective work. There’s barely any Lupin here, though—he ends up in Jigen’s wake this time, piecing together a shootout in a small, mafia-dominated town. It’s a “nice” improbably-pulpy installment which offers a lot for Jigen—switching back and forth between the new series and the old one it’s incredible how much Kobayashi Kiyoshi’s voice has aged, but if anything it works better for the character here. 5 The Magician’s Left Hand: Not RecommendedNow it’s Fujiko’s turn for an episode—though she doesn’t get nearly as good a showcase as Jigen she does get to seduce a young carnie: here comes the (stereotypically Italian) circus! Again, our leads are just interlopers in a rather rote and boring story, though it’s enlivened a bit by Lupin and Fujiko’s “it’s complicated” chemistry. 6 Until the Full Moon Passes: Highly RecommendedThe first and best of Lupin III Part IV’s wronged woman stories, this is Zenigata’s showcase. It is also, fortunately, Zenigata’s story, and his antagonists are Lupin, Jigen and Fujiko. Caught in the middle is Elena Gotti, widow to a media empire with a rumored cash store. Our four regular leads are at their best: we have Zenigata at his most persistent and clever, while Lupin’s “honorable thief” image is both used and subverted. In the final showdown between the gang and Zenigata they’re menacing in a way we seldom see them: for once we’re seeing them from Zenigata’s point-of-view, and these aren’t good people. Well-balanced between humor, pathos, and pulp, “Until the Full Moon Passes” is the unquestioned standout among the standalones so far. 8 Welcome to the Haunted Hotel: Not RecommendedYou can guess everything about this episode from the title, with the return of Jigen’s œnophilia only slightly softening the blow. 9 Requiem for the Assassins: Not Recommended, FGoemon’s an odd fit for Italy and isn’t needed for most of these episodes, thus he’s usually dropped or steps out early after making a smart remark. Goemon’s showcase episode is likewise an odd fit—we have him re-connecting with a petite female assassin (taken form the streets, of course, with all sorts the corrupt political/mafia connections that entails) with whom he’d previously worked on some strange Italian post-colonial mission. It’s either clichéd or surreal, and frankly there’s too much Goemon in a modern setting—much of the episode is unintentionally hilarious. And I’m quite sure it’s unintentional, since, like Goemon, this episode has every sign of taking itself far too seriously. 10 The Lovesick Pig: RecommendedAnother borderline case, this is Rebecca’s first appearance in the standalone episodes as she and Fujiko compete for Lupin at a wine auction. It’s starts quite sitcommy before progressing to cartoonishly silly and finally morbidly strange, but it’s good to see Rebecca and Fujiko finally up against one another, and their contest in many ways resembles the digital-analog conflict between Lupin and Nyx: Rebecca’s an heiress who uses her wealth to her full advantage in thieving, whereas Fujiko has to rely on her wiles and experience. We also have Lupin consciously avoiding being photographed here, which is a nice touch. 15 High School Undercover: Not Recommended, D-This is worst episode of Lupin I’ve yet seen. It’s dull, it’s unfunny, it’s the worst offender in terms of sidelining our leads for clichéd guest stars, and I’d rather rewatch the whole of Legend of the Gold of Babylon, despite it being about five times longer. That’s how much I dislike this episode. If “Requiem of Assassins” is the F—incredibly bad, but somehow compellingly so—this is the D-, with nothing redeeming about it (though there’s nothing offensive either, which somehow makes its consummate terribleness even worse). 16 Lupin’s Day Off: RecommendedFull disclosure: PUPPY! Not just puppy, but LONG-HAIRED DACHSIE PUPPY! Even with the red eyes Josefine is quite cute. She’s not the main appeal of the episode, though—it’s quite silly, certainly a bit too silly in some places, but the main appeal is that nothing really happens. It’s mostly just Lupin, Jigen and Goemon talking to one another as they head to Messina to deliver Josefine to her owner and partake in the rare authentic Japanese meal at a restaurant nearby. It’s Lupin’s show about nothing, making it an entertaining slow drive through the countryside, albeit one sometimes interrupted by Zenigata. There’s a bit more to it, though—while their partnership isn’t really tested here, the episode does raise the question of how deep it realy goes. To the episode’s credit, it doesn’t settle on an easy or satisfying answer, leaving some asymmetry between how Lupin and Jigen view one another. It’s a subtle pang that deserves some credit.
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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on Jan 24, 2016 13:29:23 GMT -5
The Arc EpisodesWhile I’d generously call the standalone episodes an uneven bunch, the arc episodes are quite good—had Crunchyroll decided to air the whole series week-by-week (as opposed to dumping the first half of the season on us and then going week-to-week) I’d certainly have no trouble writing full-length (for me, even) reviews about them. This is also where the new Lupin series’s sense of balance really pays off—it manages to be a little old and a little new all at once. There’s still a bit of tourism here, but in contrast to the soccer-and-circuses of the standalones we get excursions into high culture, with famous forgers, forgeries, master drawings and even shades of Italian post-modernism. Since these episodes tend to be a bit more sophisticated it’s hard to talk about how they succeed or fail without going over the episode as a whole to some degree, so I’ll hide my blurbs under spoiler tags while keeping the recommendation at the top. [Farce] 1 The Wedding of Lupin III: RecommendedI alluded to this in the first post, but the news that Lupin would be getting married—to someone who looks, on paper, to a cross between Poochy and Paris Hilton—did not sound good to me, especially since said wedding was said to help start off the season. “Married Lupin” does not sound good to me, and luckily it doesn’t sound good to his cohort, either—we begin the season as befuddled as they are, or at least as befuddled as they’re feinting to be. Of course Fujiko figures out quickly there’s more here than meets the eye, and indeed it turns out the marriage is part of a plot to gain access to one of the crowns of San Marino (and incidentally deflower Rebecca—while certainly not at Mystery of Mamo-level lustiness Lupin’s certainly still Lupin). What follows is a nicely-done multi-person disguise-filled contest between Lupin, Fujiko, Zenigata, and, in a twist, Rebecca. She’s decided to try thieving too, but being independently wealthy she’s one for just for the rush. She has private aircraft at her disposal, while Lupin merely has to make do with his watch-embedded winch (and a lot of luck). We have some reversion to the mean by the end, but importantly for the series it’s not a total one. Lupin’s trying to get out of his marriage as Rebecca, but they’re still married on paper and she’s still out there to be a thorn in his side. It’s a promising start to the series, toying with upsetting the balance but righting itself expertly. Stray Observation: “Bridezilla” is an actual word in Japanese now. 3 0.2% Chance of Survival: Highly RecommendedWhile the show has an overall The Woman Named Fujiko and Jigen’s Gravestone is, to my knowledge, mostly not involved with the new show, they do cast a bit of a gritty shadow on sunny Italy, no place more than here. What starts out as a normal heist turns into something more serious as Jigen is captured—and tortured—by MI6. Lupin now has to get away from MI6 with both the diamond and Jigen. His opponent is Nyx (those of you know your Hesiod will see instantly see how great a name this is for a secret agent), a tall, fit middle-aged man with a license to kill. Nyx is also well-equipped—when British surveillance (instantaneously) reveals that Lupin isn’t anywhere on the surface, Nyx immediately calls up a man of the tunnels. Lupin, as he tells Nyx at the end, “has to make his own luck” for the episode. It’s an exciting and suspenseful contest, one where Nyx is revealed to be something more than just a Bond clone. Stray Observations:•When Nyx covers his ears after Lupin throws a smoke bomb I actually yelled out “TINNITUS!” It turns out to be an important plot point, though. •The damn subtitlers got the spelling of Nyx’s name wrong—“υ” corresponds to “y” in English, barbarians! •The involvement of MI6—which here has no problem torturing Jigen—also has the benefit of allowing for some classic Lupin criticism of nationalism and the major powers’ moral turpitude, helped along in this case by the fact that Blue Jacket Lupin’s pretty nice. Nyx, after all, if willing to use his license to kill to get a diamond back. As Lupin and Nyx put it at the episode’s climax: “Doing all this for a woman? You’re no better than an ape.”/“Doing all this for your country? You’re no better than a dog.” Blind lust wins over blind nationalism, every time (bonus point for the Lupin-ape reference). •The setting, San Leo, is a real town known for its fortifications. •The diamond necklace is associated with the Count of Cagliostro—this is a nice, sneaky non-reference reference because it actually relates to Alessandro di Cagliostro, the real-life con artist, and the Affair of the Diamond Necklace, not the coincidentally-named Lupin film (there is a fun old movie dramatizing the affair starring Orson Welles as Cagliostro, Black Magic, available on Amazon Prime). 7 The Zapping Operation: InessentialWell, inessential in terms of quality—we still learn more about Nyx, and that’s reason enough to see it. Here he diverges even further from Bond—he’s not a womanizing bachelor but a loving family man, which perversely makes him scarier. They’re implied to be linked, too, in that Nyx has a reputation for flying off the handle, particularly when he feels his family under threat. It’s not hard to extrapolate this to his nationalistic feelings expressed in “0.2 Percent Chance of Survival,” making Nyx a great take on what motivates covert ops. Of course, his higher-ups are as ruthless as Nyx is, and are ready to take him out as soon as he goes too far out of control. Making Nyx both threatening and sympathetic is another example of Lupin III Part IV’s effective thematic tightrope-walking.
Unfortunately the storyline of the episode itself is pretty mediocre. Coming off of “Until the Full Moon Passes,” which dealt with themes of abuse and prostitution effectively but unsubtly, we again brush against the world of child prostitution as Nyx’s daughter is kidnapped; Lupin, in an unrelated heist, steals the kidnapper’s car. The attempt at starting light, going heavy and then aggressively swerving light again just doesn’t work very well. A lot of small moments are well-done, but ultimately the episode is less than the sum of its parts 11-12 The Dream of Italy, Parts 1 & 2: Highly RecommendedNow we’re getting to the meat of the “Italian Dream,” which has been mentioned on-and-off since “0.2% Chance of Success.” It let’s begin with the odd—it has a very strange genesis involving Rebecca, who’s quasi-involved with an older—anywhere from college to post-doc age man—Japanese humanist Wataru. I don’t know exactly what they were going for, but it gives off sort of an Isaac Davies-Tracy-esque vibe, but without the self-awareness that Isaac’s messed up and Tracy’s due for better things (early on it seems like one-way admiration from a naïve teenaged Rebecca, which would have worked better). Now that we’ve gotten the odd out of the way, let’s move on to the cool: the humanist disappeared, leaving behind only an enigmatic book—really, codex is the best word here—that contains the Dream of Italy: the power to capture somebody’s mind. The meta-comment on how appealing Italian high culture is obvious, but it works. First of all I can relate: I went when I was in high school and came back wanting to be some kind of Renaissance man, ended up obsessing over Leonardo’s drawing and reading Umberto Eco. It’s also done quite convincingly—when Lupin deciphers the codex he goes into a trance, entering Wataru’s mindspace. Leonardo filtered through Eco would not be a bad description for its look, either. One wonders whether there was some attempt to channel Oshii Mamoru’s early metatextual ideas for Legend of the Gold of Babylon—there’s just a hint of Angel’s Egg atmosphere in Wataru’s mind. It’s also a nice nod to the Lupin’s spy-fi roots: Wataru’s codex isn’t just a way to share a beautiful dream, but a potential weapon, something that could exert control over others; the dash of occult also isn’t out-of-place with earlier Lupin works. It’s IPCRESS with a dash of paranoia about the destructive potential of neurological biotech—old and new, balanced again. Nyx and MI6 get involved, and Zenigata’s on their tail. It’s a stunning conclusion when Zenigata ends up as Lupin’s savior. Stray Observation: The offhand remark in The Mystery of Mamo about Lupin not dreaming has its surprising payoff here, as it’s how we know Lupin’s really in some kind of mental dialogue with Wataru as opposed to merely dreaming. Sometimes one has to wait almost forty years for a payoff, I suppose. 13 The End of Lupin III—Highly RecommendedA definite homage to “ One Chance for a Prison Break, it’s also that episode’s equal. It’s marvelously clever and probably my favorite episode of the new series. Stray Observation: In what might be a slyly progressive comment, the Italian police chief makes note to Zenigata of how difficult it is to hold Lupin in Italy since Italy, unlike Japan, has no death penalty and thus can’t afford the expense of holding a death row inmate. 14 Don’t Move the Mona Lisa—Highly RecommendedSpoilers for Jigen’s Gravestone —and I guess The Mystery of Mamo too, but that movie’s almost forty.
We move from the Italian Dream to “every Italian’s dream”—bringing the Mona Lisa back to Italy. In an episode taking place almost entirely in Paris, Lupin has to best the most famous art theft in history, but luckily he has some help from French official corruption. The theft itself is the greatest the series has done so far, and the corrupt underbelly of the Louvre is a nice conceit, too (I also like that, in the series, the Isleworth Mona Lisa is considered a genuine Leonardo—it helps reinforce the feeling that there’s a secret level to the art world most of us are barely aware of). There’s some nice continuity with the Lupin gang short on cash in the beginning following Lupin’s prison stint, as well as some evidence of the gang’s spending habits (I wonder if we’ll ever see that mansion again). And—spoiler upon spoiler—we also get the unexpected revelation that there’s a clone of da Vinci wandering around Paris. This makes me wonder whether—another second-order spoiler—Jigen’s Gravestone’s final revelation about Mamo watching over the gang might be borne out. All in all exciting to watch and exciting to speculate about.
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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on Jan 24, 2016 13:38:17 GMT -5
Stray Observations•Another aspect of balance I haven’t managed is how well the series handles reference and homage. There’s a fair amount of subtle homage, but just from browsing online I can tell that my own knowledge is not sufficient enough to catch many, probably most, of them. And it doesn’t affect my viewing at all. In short, Lupin III Part IV offers treats for the initiated but they’re just an added layer—if you don’t see them you’re not actually missing anything with respect to the episodes themselves. Another thread successfully navigated. •One place where I do notice the series leaning towards homage, though, is in music, since Ohno Yuji is back with new arrangements of the old Red Jacket- Cagliostro era tunes. My opinion tends to vary from episode-to-episode—sometimes it’s a nice new arrangement, sometimes it feels like it’s leaning too hard on history. •The new ending theme is, for the first time to my knowledge, sort of its own separate thing, thematically linked (a jewel theft, Italy) but independent, taking the form as a sort of a midcentury Italian singer’s concert performance and drive through the countryside. I like it, but the girl’s voice (and, to some extent the language) don’t really match with the more big band-esque sound they seem to be going for. •There’s ample automotive nostalgia here for someone who’s recently moved from Europe to the States. As noted above, Lupin’s driving a classic FIAT, not one of the new ones, and a good thing too—I generally have an aversion to retro design, and the new FIAT is a lot porkier than the original (which remain driven and beloved, at least in Amsterdam), and in a lot of European settings it’s less a matter of raw speed or power but maneuverability and willingness to rev. Alfas are plentiful—the aforementioned countryside drive is, I believe, in an 1950s-vintage Alfa Giulia convertible, and Zenigata’s main car is an an Alfa Romeo 159, a pretty stunningly attractive car which also has a reputation for performance not living up to its looks or name. Rebecca drives a customized Ferrari, Nyx, in keeping with making him a polar opposite to Lupin, an electric hybrid BMW i8 supercar. The Paris-set “Don’t Move the Mona Lisa” is a showcase for Peugeot 308 police cars, and while we can’t see the black executive cars very well their tail lamps looked a bit 407-ish to me (like the 159, these cars will probably disappoint fans of old Peugeots, and represented a styling nadir for the brand as well—the 2000s were not a good decade for Europe’s smaller automakers). There’s also a cameo of a Messerschmitt bubble car in the commercial bumpers (see below) •Somewhat oddly given the car and gun fetishism, we don’t get much attention to that other male status symbol, the watch—Jigen had a Zenith chronograph in “Is Lupin Burning?! but that’s about it. Lupin’s watch here isn’t any kind of real watch to my knowledge, but Nyx has a Rolex Submariner, much like Bond in the early Connery films. •Each episode opens with an epigram, switching halfway through the series. These are quotes Lupin attributes to himself—they’re not that great, get over yourself! The graphics are nice, though, with a map of Italy for the first half and a collage of Leonardo fragments in the second. •The little commercial bumpers are a lot of fun, though I prefer the first half’s more cartoony ones, which hearken back to the second series. I’m less fond of the second half bumpers, which feature Mamou Kyouske (of “Beware the Time Machine”) next to a Messerschmitt and Fujiko in daisy dukes (a reference to Voyage to Danger?). •Going back episode-by-episode I was wrong about the relative frequency of Goemon and Rebecca—Goemon appears much more often, but Rebecca tends to have much meatier roles nonetheless. Next week we’ll be returning to classic reviews of the second series with the first Lupin two-parter: “The Second Time Around.”
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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on Feb 4, 2016 16:57:20 GMT -5
Reviews delayed until the weekend due to prior commitments
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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on Feb 12, 2016 18:09:21 GMT -5
17 The Murdering Marionette: InessentialIt has some nice conceptual touches, but is ultimately a bit too familiar a setup and easy a conclusion. Incredibly for a Lupin story it actually manages to strain disbelief. Lupin III, as a franchise, loves variations on a theme—often, admittedly, as a shortcut, but when done well it serves as a means of reinterpreting something touched on before in a new setting, either in terms of place or time. The occult aspects of The Woman Called Fujiko Mine are an excellent example of how this reinterpretation could work—ambiguously set in the sixties, the setting was ripe for a hallucinogenic-laced, Indian-inspired cult (led by a creepy Father Yod-ish figure)—indeed, I think it might be the best possible setting for a cult plot.Contemporary Italy, on the other hand, is less fertile ground for cults, though it wouldn’t be hard to transfer the racecar-obsessed French Raëlians or Greek neopagans there. Instead we get corrupt Italian anti-crime televangelists, which seems an odd fit for Italy. Their corruption is tied up with online betting markets, though, which is an interesting mix—they’re funded by whether they manage to eliminate their foes.
Thus the televangelists trap Lupin, Jigen, Fujiko and Goemon in a crypt, noting that one of them will betray the others. This sets everyone on edge and serves as the meat of the story. It’s fun to watchgo against one another —particularly Jigen and Goemon—but it’s undercut by the conclusion. The televangelists lined up Lupin as the group’s Judas and try to lower everyone’s susceptibility via a hallucinogenic gas. Lupin, however, is not weak-willed enough to go along, and manages to communicate what’s really going on to the rest of the gang with a glance. It undercuts the tension from earlier and strains disbelief—even when we’re primed for the unlikely “The Murdering Marionette” goes too far.
But for all the unlikeliness there is a nice, rationalistic twist at the end, as Lupin questions whether the gas truly altered people’s susceptibility to perception. It’s fun to see Lupin in classic, rationalist Captain Kirk mode, and it helps finish the episode on a high note. 17 The First Supper: InessentialSuspension of disbelief in Lupin III is odd—the last episode strained disbelief but here the seemingly fantastic rolls right along—when Lupin explains how the events of “Don’t Move the Mona Lisa” tie into the Italian Dream project, it makes total sense to us. In fact it’s a bit too obvious and straightforward, and didn’t necessarily need a whole episode. It’s “inessential” in terms of quality, and almost “inessential” in terms of content, though the episode certainly lands (ha!) the ending. In short, the Italian Dream project involved making a clone of da Vinci, loading him up with stuff from da Vinci’s notebooks via Wataru’s technique mentioned in “The Dream of Italy.” This isn’t that hard to piece together, and the stylistic trick of the episode—assembling the extended cast in an arrangement similar to da Vinci’s Last Supper—simply isn’t enough to keep it from feeling a bit undynamic (especially in contrast to the painting itself, but that’s probably an unfair comparison). Who’ll play Judas is also pretty damn obvious. The treatment of Leonardo himself, though, is interesting. As I noted in my comment to Prole’s review of Star Trek: Voyager’s “Concerning Flight,” good depictions of Leonardo in pop culture are rare, tending to idolize his genius without really respecting it. Here Leonardo cuts a somewhat ambiguous (and very handsome, in keeping with contemporary accounts) figure. He’s certainly not the episode’s villain, but he’s feeling newly empowered by the technology of the twenty-first century, finally able to realize his dreams. It’s a bit menacing—he talks of reshaping the world, connecting back to how the episode was shaped by his painting. Shaping the world as a work of art is both utopian and menacing, reducing us to pawns. Lupin is, of course, not a fan (giving him another little Captain Kirk moment). This might not have been the most exciting episode, but I like the direction it’s setting up. Stray Observations•This is out first episode in northern Italy, taking place in and outside of Milan. There’s a short fashion week sequence at the beginning, but my vote for best-dressed goes to Nix, who really captures a nice sort of understated Mediterranean casual: •Also, I was wrong about Nix’s codename: it’s from the Latin for snow, not the Greek personification of night. From now on I’ll spell his name with an “i,” but I still think the Greek name is better. •Unfortunately I think this episode rules out the possibility of Mamo showing up in this new series. Next week we will be covering episodes 18 and 19 of the new series (and not doing a classic review since I was not able to post this until today).
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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on Feb 19, 2016 18:11:01 GMT -5
19 Dragons Sleep Soundly: WATWAT. No review here—I just have to say I’m glad I can experience batshit insane Lupin in the moment for once rather than forty years late. If I have any critiques it’s that it’s too much Nix’s story. Although I think Nix has kind of earned his own story by this point, it does make the story seem a bit more a generic spy tale and less a specifically Lupin one; on the other hand one of the aims of Part IV is to engage with every aspect of past Lupin series, and there are certainly echoes of more straightforward spy tales like Voyage to Danger here. Still, it’s hard to evaluate out of context of the larger arc, but it’s worth seeing just because it will make you say WAT. Stray Observation• Being such a straightforward spy story, though, makes Lupin seem really out of place in his standard blazer, even its ample ticket pocket makes a case for its functionality. That said I would have loved to see the return of Lupin’s green, elbow-padded tactileneck from “Don’t Move the Mona Lisa”: 20: To hear you sing again: Recommended After a couple of episodes going deep on the Italian Dream mythos it’s relieving to have a nice thievery-oriented episode, or at least so it appears at the beginning. Ultimately the episode turns out to be another one where the Lupin gang plays the role of supporting characters. The story’s well done, if sentimental: the husband of an infirm, elderly singer is getting rid of her possessions in an attempt to dull the pain of his memories with her. It’s odd to see a riff on Amour in a Lupin story (and it’s nowhere near as brutal), but it still manages to work better than it should. Lupin enters into the story when he steals her old car—appropriately the Fiat Nuova 500’s predecessor, the 500 Topolino. The theft is clever, though, Zenigata’s on the ball in his pursuit, and Fujiko’s actually kind of menacing when she approaches the old man. Not quite a classic like the Topolino, but still a solid mix of adventure and sentiment.
Stray Observation • The modern-day setting kind of bites the episode in the ass—unless she was gifted a very late model Topolino the elderly leads would be centenarians. Chronologically, in fact, it would have worked better had her car been a Nuova 500 like Lupin’s. That’s a real nitpick, though, and the Topolino has a real feeling of antiquity and is styled with such personality that it really doesn’t matter.
Next week we’ll return to classic Lupin reviews with “Alter-ego maniac” and, in a pun that even Bob Belcher would be ashed of, “Zenigata getcha into my life.”
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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on Feb 26, 2016 14:20:08 GMT -5
Classic review delayed until Sunday due to travel
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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on Mar 4, 2016 3:21:53 GMT -5
21 From Japan with Love: Inessential, but a bunch of you will probably get more out of it than me (no plot spoilers in this review) Cool girls don’t look at big splashes…How Japanese is Lupin III? To those of us in Europe and North America this is kind of a ridiculous question: it’s a Japanese show for a Japanese audience that reflects Japanese sensibilities (sometimes in, as in One Chance for a Prison Break, quite sophisticated ways) and installments often take place in Japan, so of course it’s Japanese. But that’s not always the feeling in the home market, where the franchise’s cosmopolitan nature is sometimes seen as disconnecting it from its native culture (thus the addition of Goemon). Lupin’s own ambiguous ethnicity can even be a bit of a sticking point: originally he’s half-Japanese, half-French, but Miyazaki (in a Cagliostro-era interview I can’t relocate I just relocated, almost two months later) hypothesized some Italian ancestry as well. Maybe these speculations informed the current series’s Italian setting, and perhaps some lingering discomfort over Lupin’s rootlessness inspired this sortie back to Japan. And it is very back to Japan: we don’t get the regular visit to Tokyo or the almost ethnographic look at rural Japan from The Fuma Conspiracy, either. Rather we get a spoof, not of Japanese culture but of Japanese culture’s broader media image. This means that the Japanese aspects are played big and obvious—the first big fight takes place in a large bathhouse, for instance—and that we also get a spoof of anime: Lupin’s main adversary in this episode is not Zenigata but a different Japanese detective, Akechi Holmes, and his subordinates: Credit to the Lupin team—at first I thought this was a crossover, but it turns out they’ve been invented just for this episode. Although I can’t really identify the stock characters they’re representing, from their interactions not hard to imagine these three starring in their own hacky little series. They really do seem a world apart from the world of Lupin, even in terms of look. Compare these three—youthful, smooth-looking, and expressive in archetypal ways—to Zenigata: The liney expressiveness of how Zenigata’s drawn seems, to me, very Japanese, but it’s also also very uncharacteristic of the common anime aesthetic: he’s square-jawed and aged. Unfortunately this contrast brings up my main impediment to really enjoying this episode: I vastly prefer Lupin’s approach aesthetically and thematically, and haven’t seen (nor have much interest in seeing) much televised anime. This is a comedy episode, but the jokes fall flat either because I am unable to really get what they are spoofing or because it engages with a style of humor I’m not acculturated to (probably a bit of both). That is particular to me, though. I’m sure many of you in my small-and-apparently-loyal readership will appreciate this episode more than I’m able to. 22 I’m Going to Get You, Lupin: Highly RecommendedAnd then they interrobanged.Guys this was incredible—series best so far. We haven’t really had a substantive Rebecca plot in a while—she made an appearance back in “The First Supper” but did not play a major role—we have to go all the way back to “The Dream of Italy,” when her relationship with Lupin, role in the Italian Dream, and reasons for thieving were all clarified. Here we have a return to focus on Rebecca as she goes after Lupin himself. Her intention: to steal him. She puts on her most glamorous heist clothes, her safety glasses, and heads out on the hunt.
Their “thief vs. thief” interactions are great, sparring via booby traps and calling cards, but where the episode really hits is in its exploration of what Rebecca really wants. And it’s complicated. I’m currently reading Umberto Eco’s The Island of the Day Before and I think he puts it best:
Credit for making Lupin both simultaneously ridiculous and dangerous. It’s not only very hard to pull off, but works well for the role Lupin plays in this episode. Like many of the standalone episodes Lupin’s not the lead, but unlike many he’s not an interloper in someone else’s story. Lupin’s the object, not subject, of the episode, and it’s a reversal well-done.
Stray Observations • Fujiko’s role in the episode’s great, and it really does a great job in showing why they work so well “together”
• Lupin’s less comedic turn here works well—although his current voice actor (Kurita Kanichi) has a background in comedy, I think he really excels when Lupin has to be serious.
• Obviously Lupin’s Leonardo subplot—not featured in this episode—has ended up more da Vinci Code than Foucault’s Pendulum, but I still don’t think Eco would have minded my bringing him up in the “Dream of Italy” review since the episodes are kind of metafictional (and he seemed to have a sense of humor about pop conspiracies anyway).
• Damned paddle shifters, be more cool!
Next week we return to classic reviews with “The Skateboard Murder Mystery” (or, “You’re Sapphired!”) and “Arrest Lupin with Horoscopes” (or, “Lupin’s Psychic Friend”).
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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on Mar 20, 2016 16:12:56 GMT -5
23 World Dissection, Part I: Highly Recommended
One thing I’d missed in my analysis so far of this series was that pitting Lupin against Leonardo da Vinci puts the episode squarely in the tradition of the ]oh so many Second Series episodes where Lupin faced off of some narrowly-disguised historical personage (and I’ve been working ahead on the classic reviews so I can assure you there’s more to come); the idea of Lupin somehow going up against great historical figures also came up in Legend of the Gold of Babylon, though via Lupin finding something that Alexander, Napoleon and Hitler failed to, not direct competition. Pitting Lupin III against Leonardo da Vinci isn’t as obvious as making the dictator “Hutler” or the mobster “Cabone,” though against all odds the writers actually have it make sense. Leonardo’s a polymath ahead of his time—would the unlimited (relative to his time period) power end up corrupting him? Though Vasari recounts Leonardo’s personality as gentle and humane, the resume he sent to the Duke of Milan emphasized his skill as an armorer and made plans to deny Pisa water by diverting the Arno (plans that were acted upon, though the Arno refused to cooperate and returned to his course). And while Leonardo was hardly the most utopian of Renaissance artists or builders, such impulses weren’t unknown at the time, and plans for ideal cities whose form would coincide with universal harmonies to shape its inhabitants’ conduct were in vogue. Making Leonardo’s clone a dangerous utopian rather than opportunist was an interesting choice. It doesn’t hurt that Leonardo (again in Vasari’s account) was physically imposing, strong, handsome and dapper. In testing our gang there’s a sense that they have to prove worthy to stand on shoulders of giants—a feeling that must be familiar to anyone working on a Lupin project. Yet I have to admit some trepidation about what comes next. Leonardo, having entered everyone’s minds, requests that each beat him in some feat. All pass in some feat in a series of entertaining little vignettes, with the exception of Rebecca, who gets her mind taken over by da Vinci. This bothers me a bit—she’s certainly more than a dilettante, even when taking Robson’s help int account. But what bothers me is Lupin’s big line: he wouldn’t be Lupin if he didn’t rush to the rescue of a pretty girl. He doesn’t need to say this—Lupin and Rebecca’s connection was cemented in the last episode, and him outright saying he’s going to be a hero without any ulterior or secondary motive just seems—off. Even the “nice” Castle of Cagliostro has darkness just under the surface. And why say out loud what a card can say much better. 24 World Dissection, Part 2: RecommendedDeeply, deeply flawed, but with a number of nice touches that elevate the whole thing Lupin III Part IV is, ultimately, a metafiction, like The Woman Called Fujiko Mine before it; Part IV even shares the use of mind control technology as a means of getting metafictional. They differ in one important way, though: The Woman Called Fujiko is more about the appeal of our thieves’ lifestyle, while Part IV is more about the appeal of Lupin, and not Lupin the character but Lupin the man. That’s fairly weak, thematically, and it really damages the finale. For one thing, we know Lupin is likeable—we are watching the series, after all. It’s even worse when Lupin comes out and says that a thief’s business is to steal one’s heart. I understand the desire to step back from the harder-edged Lupin media earlier in the decade, but this finale goes a little too far in the other direction. Even when Lupin’s at his most heroic in The Castle of Cagliostro the film—much less Lupin himself—doesn’t draw attention to his own heroics like he does here. Things get worse when we compare Clarisse to Rebecca (one that’s hard not to make since new arrangements of Cagliostro’s themes are playing in the background)—at the end of Cagliostro Lupin leaves Clarisse, leaving her off to be her own person. We might have been headed someplace similar with Rebecca—so far she’s been under the thrall of her old boyfriend Wataru, of Lupin’s example as a thief, and now of da Vinci, but instead she’s a non-entity. She plays no role in her own rescue. This is terrible (hell, Fujiko did a better job of getting herself out of literal bondage in 1971, forty-five years ago) and we’ve been building towards Rebecca’s big moment of self-definition. It never comes. In her final scene she’s not her own person, but someone chastened, not empowered, by her whole experience. The entire series seems a massive step backward for Rebecca, which is inexcusable given how well they’ve built her up until the finale (Nix is also seemingly just an afterthought, again after much build-up). Rebecca’s just the “good girl”—and she really seems like a girl, not a woman—in the end, which seems counter the spirit of the whole franchise. And again looks all the worse in comparison to The Woman Called Fujiko, which ended with a proud defense of being both “bad” and a woman. Yet the moment of the big rescue’s wonderful (no small thanks to Ohno’s music). And the whole journey to the center of the mind is a lot of fun—there’s a great deal of joy in seeing Lupin navigate through a constantly-changing oil painting, scrambling to adjust to each new situation and the shifting physics. There are fun little callback to the films: Lupin ran through paintings in Mamo, we have gears hearkening back to Cagliostro and even the arrangement of da Vinci’s “fortress of the mind” seems to evoke what Mamoru Oshii was planning for Legend of the Gold of Babylon before he got sacked and reused his concepts in Angel’s Egg. While the fantastic nature of the ending seems like more of a stretch here than in Fujiko (where the animation and passion were dialed to eleven along with the story), the unwinding, with the Italian peninsula seemingly wakening from a dream, one fading with every second, makes the transition back from the surreal elements seem natural. And the last glimpses of our characters…well, it makes you want to see them again. There are a couple of DVD-only episodes of Part IV still out there, but as far as I know they’re not yet legally available in English. This year’s annual special has already aired, but it’s mostly reassembled from episodes of the series with extra footage. Our only option now is to go back: next week classic reviews resume with the eccentric pair of 79 “Diamonds Gleam in a Robot’s Eye” (or “Ice, Robot”) and 84 “Leave the Revenge to Lupin.”
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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on Mar 20, 2016 17:14:10 GMT -5
Series OverviewIt’s a bit inconsistent (a lot of the worst is front-weighted early-on, unfortunately), but it’s also fairly episodic, so bad stuff doesn’t really spread from episode to episode, either (and a universal problem with a lot of the poorer episodes is that Lupin and the gang are tangential to stories—24 episodes might have been too much). There is an arc, which ends up quite outlandish but is pretty well-executed. It’s less distinct/artsy-looking than the 2011-14 Lupin media, but it still does hold its own style-wise, and while I could see its reliance on old tropes and old music (they went back to their old jazz composer, Yuji Ohno, and a lot of the music’s arrangements of his work from the late seventies) being a crutch they’re really brought into the twenty-first century effectively. My big caveats are two-fold: one is that it seems basically impossible to resist going for some kind of reflexivity wrt the history of the Lupin franchise. A lot of it’s well-done, under-the-radar stuff, at least until the end (and by the end I mean the very end, like the last fifteen-twenty minutes), where it’s kind of botched into a big love-letter to Lupin himself. We like the character, we’re watching the show, we don’t need to be reminded of how great he is. And while I understand and sympathize with the desire to step back after the definitely-not-all-ages Woman Called Fujiko and especially Jigen’s Gravestone (there’s essentially no nudity in the new series, and the violence is dialed-back a lot, too—whether that makes it more or less adult depends on your POV, I guess), I do think it misses that part of the series’ appeal is that Lupin isn’t quite a “good guy.” This is something The Woman Called Fujiko understood very well, and while I had my problems with that series I came away appreciating its stronger sense of thematic purpose. (it doesn’t help that they actually have very similar endings). Still, not-sticking-the-landing seems to be a universal problem in anime, and it’s a decent ride there. I don’t know how I’d rate it relative to the other series since they all tend to rise and fall on individual episodes’ merits (except Pink Jacket, which is never good), but the best of this series definitely stand with the best of previous ones.
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Post by Jean Luc de Lemur on May 6, 2016 17:53:47 GMT -5
Another delay on that classic review—we have new Lupin to review! The two DVD-only episodes have been released on Crunchyroll, so we’ll give them a look. The first, “Venice of the Dead,” is a standalone mid-quel; the second, “Nonstop Rendezvous,” is essentially a prequel to the entire series (despite a couple of framing scenes that place it close to the end).25 (6): Venice of the Dead: RecommendedI can see why this episode was left for the DVD release—it is a bit of a trifle. But Lupin does trifles better than anyone else, and I wish this were part of the main body of the show. It doesn’t strive for meaning like a number of the Italian vignette episodes, but somehow it effortlessly gets there. The hook is reminiscent of many of the paranormally-themed Lupin installments, though it might be better to call a lot of these simply creepy. A lot of these really don’t work for me, so I was not thrilled when I saw this episode would be zombie-themed. But the episode’s much smarter, and free of clichés (both general horror clichés and clichés specific to Lupin, than first appearance might imply. Lupin, brought to Rebecca’s Veneto villa to finalize divorce papers, is understandably skeptical when the zombie hordes start approaching (heading towards the villa shortly after the evening news announces their arrival). Whatever they might be, they’re clearly not there for pleasantries and Lupin grabs Rebecca for an escape when…
…cut. It’s all an artifice, and roping in Lupin was an attempt by Rebecca to bring in some neo-realism into her latest zombie film. Lupin might be a selfish bastard, but under pressure he reveals himself as a nice man (“he’s cool, you know, he uses his Walther…”), which combined with his athleticism makes him a pretty good cinematic hero. Leveraging the divorce—much desired by Lupin even if there is some underlying attraction.
And it’s Lupin’s reaction to this that makes the episode. Lupin, a master of disguise and deception, has been bested, but his main response isn’t one of ego. His first concern is that he’s been caught on film. One of the small touches I liked about the series was Lupin’s heightened awareness that he might be caught—one of the challenges of making a Lupin series set in the present day is the acknowledgement that someone will probably catch his picture, so making Lupin more concerned with secrecy not only makes sense but subtly makes him more a part of an underworld, somewhat removed from our everyday existence.
What makes the episode, though, is that it’s not merely his face. Lupin’s personal life is also on display—again, that might be part of his image (how many late seventies Lupin installments feature Lupin confident in his sex appeal, only to be deflated?), but a nice thing about this series is that Lupin plays his emotions close to his chest. Clearly Lupin’s gusto in rescuing Rebecca has put a bit too much on display here, showing that Rebecca’s more an annoyance to him. The cameras just make this tipping of his emotional hand worse.
Lupin, in a sense, ends this episode in defeat—Rebecca divorce offer was just a ruse, and while Lupin’s face gets obscured he still ends up revealing something. For the audience, though, it’s a win, offering a rare bit of insight into the character.
Stray Observation • I do have to admit to a bit of disappointment we never actually go to Venice.
• The twin directors of Rebecca’s movie are pretty clearly a riff on Guillermo del Toro.
• It also pours a bit of salt on the wound of Rebecca’s neutering at the end of the series. :\
26 (23) Nonstop Rendezvous: RecommendedThis is another trifle, but a real one—there’s little deeper resonance here but it’s a great ride, a classic automotive adventure in the mold of The Fuma Conspiracy, plus a solid Lupin-and-Zenigata-forced-to-work-together plot. It’s well-animated, its humor works, the villain’s straight out of NotOKCupid (seriously), and it’s a fun jaunt in the old Cinquecento—what more could one ask for? Well, maybe something other than another rescue Rebecca plot. It’s nicely-executed, though—in addition to all of the above, this “first encounter” never has them meet—Lupin’s concern for Rebecca is solely as a lucrative mark, nothing more. It adds a bit of subtext to their rapid courtship, and while it’s not strictly necessary it’s a nice extra bit of icing. Again, though, I wish this had been released as part of the regular series. Stray Observations• One nice thing is that the episode implies that while Zenigata’s a better shot than Lupin, Lupin’s the luckier shot. The attention to detail, both animated and thematic, really elevates this series. • It’s striking how much Lupin’s Walther is featured in this episode—another nice touch in the new series is that it managed to minimize the less savory aspects of Lupin’s character without (usually) making him feel sanded-down. • Weird, three gun observations: this might be the only Lupin episode to satisfy the bullet-counters among you. Next week we finally get our dose of 1970s pseudoscience with 4 ”I Can Here Nessie’s Song” (or 3 “50 Ways to Leave Your 50 Foot Lover”) —incidentally the first Lupin installment Part IV’s chief director, Kazuhide Tomonaga, worked on—and 7 “Tutankhamen’s 3000-year Curse” (or 6 “Cursed Case Scenario”).
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moimoi
AV Clubber
Posts: 5,003
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Post by moimoi on Mar 29, 2021 13:39:29 GMT -5
Lupin III Part IV: Reactions Thus Far
I'm only six episodes in - you'll be happy to know that Venice of the Dead has been inserted into the episode sequence on Amazon Prime - and I'm in general agreement about your ratings for the 'touristy' episodes and the arc episodes. Unfortunately, I'm watching the dub, for which the voice acting is PRETTY TERRIBLE. Like, the villain in episode 2 is some sort of comedic gay stereotype with camp affectations. I may start the whole thing over if I can get ahold of the sub. Anyway, more thoughts to forthcoming...
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moimoi
AV Clubber
Posts: 5,003
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Post by moimoi on Apr 6, 2021 12:32:38 GMT -5
More stray thoughts, for what they are worth: - This series endeared itself to me in the first episode with the shot of Lupin scratching his ass while complaining about his wedding night being interrupted. I don't know why I find this lechery so amusing.
- I did not like Rebecca until episode 11, mostly because of her cool bandeau/halter top. Overall, I'm glad that she didn't Poochy up the works too much, but I still feel like Fujiko and Goemon would have been served better if they had more screentime.
- I think one reason sex trafficking might figure so prominently in the Lupin III milieu is because it's something that the Japanese public hears about pretty frequently (i.e. the yakuza's control over the sex industry in Japan, the trafficking of Filipinas and other migrants, Japanese citizens engaging in sex tourism both in Asia and abroad). Without widespread gun, drug, or gang problems, sexual exploitation and government corruption are the hot button issues. Consequently, we see these themes a lot in Lupin.
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