MORE LIKE TROMBLEY?!

The thing he would be complaining about was the cold, because of course a man who survived a Russian gulag would want to go back to his home town in freezing Anchorage, Alaska. It was so sparse there, Woods internally compared it to a gulag but would never say that out loud. His complaints as he stepped off a train, were quickly silenced when a short bundle of coats and scarves rammed into his stomach with a cry of “Uncle Frank!” He returned the hug and looked up to see the older Mason walking towards him.

“Good to see you Frank,” Alex held out his hand, but Woods said screw it and pulled his friend into a hug, creating a David sandwich. “I hope the journey didn’t give you too much trouble.”

“Any travel that isn’t funded by the United States Military is a dream, but I think if I stay here too long I’ll forget what my toes feel like.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Mason smiled. “And don’t worry we heat the houses really well here, your toes will be back in no time.”

With that they were off to Alex’s car. The drive was pretty, if a landscape frankly drowned in snow could be called pretty. David chatted to Frank the whole drive, giving his father a chance to focus on driving safely on slick roads. When they got to the small house, Alex dropped David and Frank off at the front door and pulled around back to park the car.

Walking in the front door, Frank could almost immediately see small signs of Alex’s “quirks” gained in Vortuka, the CIA, and the United States Marine Corps. Although David had unlocked the door with a single key, there was also a deadlock and a chain lock on the inside of the front door. As he was led to his room, he saw things that could be classified as weapons in each corner, a fire poker here, a baseball bat there. Passing through the living room there were pillows and blankets on the couch, as well as a few empty beer bottles on the side table. Every window, including the one in his room, had a lock as did every door.

He heard Alex come in downstairs, and David ran off to talk to his father, leaving Frank alone on the second floor. Moving to follow, Woods passed Alex’s room. Giving into his curiosity he looked inside. The queen sized bed was unmade, the blankets all shoved to the bottom. Under it Frank could see the end of a military storage case and a gun locker stood in the far corner. Next to the bed one nightstand had an alarm clock, dog tags (Alex’s), and a book. The other had a much more feminine look, a pretty lamp, a dish with jewelry, and a small Bible adorned the top of it. That bedside table was covered in a thick layer of dust.

A minute later downstairs, in the living room, as Alex was cleaning up his bed on the couch, making dinner suggestions, and getting them shot down by David, Frank took a closer look at the mantle and the picture hung around the room. A few metals were on display (Frank knew where each one came from) as well as a few family pictures. There was one of Alex looking overwhelmed and happy holding a newborn David, several more of David throughout the years doing different things his parents thought should be documented. There were a few pictures of Alex as a child (this had been his parents home) as well as a few from early military service.

Frank smiled when he saw some of him and Mason together in ‘Nam and other places they had been deployed. He flipped off a picture that included Hudson. Looking closer at the ones he knew were post Vortuka, he could see the “look” in Mason’s eyes. He wondered how he’d downplayed it so much when they had been in it, when in every photo, smiling or not, Alex’s eyes had an oddly vacant or distracted look. Then again, ‘Nam was pretty rough, so he could have some grace in not noticing how much his friend was really there.

In the middle of the mantle was a picture shoved behind the rest and covered in dust; from what Frank could see it was a family photo of Alex, his wife, and toddler David. Next to that was a picture laying face down. Frank gently lifted it to see a wedding photo, written across the bottom in silver ink it said, “the beginning of the best days of our life, -with all my love, Amelia”. In the picture Alex and Amelia were posed under an arch of roses, looking happy as can be. Frank guessed the spots where pictures were missing or turned face down, were ones of Amelia Mason, the grief of her loss being pushed away instead of processed. Frank couldn’t fault his friend for that, he was pretty shoddy at processing grief as well.

Finally, Alex came up with a meal plan that David was satisfied with, and the three of them went into the kitchen to make it together. David had demanded that Uncle Frank had to help, and he couldn’t deny the 11 year old. In the kitchen, Woods could see other signs that Amelia had once lived here. The kitchen was furnished with every amenity a housewife would want, down to the teal toaster oven. He was pulled from his thoughts about the matching refrigerator, when something hit him in the face. He looked from the flowery apron that had just hit him to Alex who was grinning widely at him.

“Come on Frank, Vik’s not in that corner, and you gotta help us cook,” The twinkle in his eye told Frank he was joking about the Russian.

“Let’s hope he’s not in any corner,” the GI pulled the garish apron on and set to work helping make dinner.

First:

Shikaku is literally the number 1 (biological) anime dad.

He is constantly encouraging his son to be a better man, to respect women, to have healthy emotional reactions.

I’m gonna assume he had a good mentor as well, for him to be this way.

Second:

The animators ate in that scene. They maxed out the animation to make everything so clear.

Shikamaru’s body language as he slowly folds in on himself. Shikaku’s stillness. The facial expressions from both.

The stiffness with which Shikamaru slams his shogi pieces down. Shikaku’s calmness even when the board game is thrown across the room.

Not animation, but even the moment of silence after Shikaku says “let it all out” is so important. It gives this feeling like a rug has just been ripped from under you and that’s what’s happened with Shikamaru.

Third:

The voice actors also ate.

Although I prefer the sub of this scene, I think the dub does a decent job too. Plus, my primary language is English so that does help some emotional factor to see the scene in my language rather read it.

In the sub though, shikamaru’s crying is much more raw and painful. It feels more pent up, like he has been holding it back for days.

Fourth: (and finally)

The dialogue.

Shikaku’s words are carefully chosen to slowly reveal what is truly bothering his son. First, ragging on his playing skills, then his decisions, and finally landing on Asuma’s death.

I think Shikaku knew exactly what the issue was and knew how to get to his son about it.

One little thing the sub does better is clever wording. Although I cannot speak for the original Japanese, the sub conversation seems a bit more clever.

At the very end, after Shikaku left the room and closed the door, he says “I’ll be here to pick up your pieces.” Speaking mainly about his son’s grief, but also alluding to the game they’d been playing.

The dub loses that line and he says something like “I’ll be here for you.”

So at the end of the day, I do like the sub better, but think there is value in the dub.