JPT1311 Posts

When I watched Death Note, I found the ideas it posed to be very interesting. Light gets his hands on the death note, which he can kill anyone with by writing their name in it, and he begins to use it to execute criminals, with his behavior growing more unhinged and extreme as the show goes on. In the later parts of the show, Light even begins to kill those who try to uncover his identity, even if they have not committed any crime, such as government workers and eventually L. This question that the show poses is whether it is just to kill evil people, or if it is wrong. Light believes that he is enacting justice, while L believes that this behavior is immoral.

I think that a good portion of L's belief stems from themes similar to the ones represented in Psycho-Pass. Even if it were just to kill evil people, it would be wrong for a single person to do it, as it the solely depends on this person's subjective idea of evil. If I remember correctly, some people within Death Note even refer to Kira as "playing judge, jury, and executioner," which perfectly represents this concept.

What's most interesting is that the how never really sides with either Light or L. The audience is free to view either one as the "protagonist," and thus their ideologies are depicted as equal. This is represented in their conflict as well, as I felt like whether L proves that Light is Kira or Light kills L became more about deciding whose ideology is better rather than one driven by survival.

As a choice for one of the anime that we got to pick, this was a very interesting choice. Not because there wasn't a lot to gather within the anime, but instead because I felt like it fit the total theme of the semester very well. The Elric brothers were extraordinarily interesting to watch and follow. While I have not seen the whole anime before, I have seen parts of it throughout the entirety of my childhood. With that being said, looking at it with a critical lens, seeing the affect the war had on the veterans and viewing it from the next generation was extraordinarily interesting. This is because I felt like it made there be a more rounded view on what I was watching. This is because it provided me with a view on what was going on within the world, while also showing an aspect of the past. The characters were focused upon their own goal in the landscape of a land which had suffered greatly, due to this, the amalgamation of the different pieces was honestly breathtaking. I feel like looking at the situation from the generation who had now taken the land shows the idea of continuation of time. No matter what, things continue to move on, this is a fact which is oftentimes forgotten or ignored, yet within FMA:B, I feel like this is at a forefront of what is being shown. With a world of the past and younger protagonists for the future.

This show does take itself seriously, but in the best way possible. This is because it allows for the serious scape of the world to be viewed and for the deep development of what has happened to be viewed by the audience. I am aware of the older Fullmetal Alchemist show. I personally have never seen it, but I have heard good things about it. I personally wonder whether watching it would make me appreciate this anime more. While I do know there is changes that have been made, I feel as though seeing it from an earlier perspective might be really fascinating and provide an even deeper context.

I enjoyed watching these episodes, though I would have preferred to watch more of the earlier episodes because I felt really disjointed on what we saw. It did make me want to completely restart the anime however, which was a nice thing to be entirely truthful.

What struck me first was the aesthetic. Neo-Tokyo is this gorgeous nightmare, all neon grit and sprawling decay. The city feels alive like it’s breathing with its lungs, choking on the consequences of its past.

But beneath the explosions and body horror is something human. Kaneda and Tetsuo aren’t just rebels and psychic weapons; they’re lost boys. Tetsuo, especially, is a kid constantly overlooked, who finally gains power and is consumed by it. Instead of setting him free, it just makes everything worse. He spirals so fast. He's angry, scared, and constantly trying to prove he’s not weak anymore. It’s like the second he gains control, he can’t stop trying to destroy everything that made him feel small. Their dynamic is so real, especially at this time for anime, two kids trying to deal with stuff way bigger than them, and unequipped to handle it. Also, shout out to Kei and Kaori. They don’t get as much focus, but they’re still interesting, especially Kei. She’s trying to fight for something bigger, but she’s also just caught in this huge mess of power and destruction. It’s not just a sci-fi trope; it’s a reflection of real-world frustrations, of how societies fail their youth, especially the marginalized ones.

There’s this constant theme of instability (political, personal, biological). The government is corrupt, the military is grasping for control, and the kids? They’re stuck in the fallout. Literally and metaphorically. Akira asks essentially what happens when you give power to someone who’s never had any. 

I also noticed how Akira critiques technological obsession and national trauma. The post-WWII anxiety is baked into every frame. The fear of unchecked science, of cities being leveled, of bodies mutating beyond recognition. 

Honestly, it’s overwhelming but in the best way. I didn’t “understand” everything, but I don’t think I was supposed to. I had a similar experience with NGE and found many similarities between the two. Yet, the grotesque nature of the film also reminded me of Barefoot Gen with certain scenes.

One of the things about Sensoron that stood out to me was how it emphasized repetition. The idea that war never changes and it doesn't just happen once, or just because a war is "over" it doesn't mean its over. This point also ties into what Gellner said about war itself. He talks about how it evolved and how the reason for war also evolved. What once was something done as a last resort for survival became suddenly a lot more political, it became about borders, control, ideologies. Normally when we think of progress its a good thing. The industrial revolution led to such a big boom in technology and its true there have been a lot of good almost near essential things that came from it (god bless the internet and A/C), but there also has been a downside. Weapons have evolved, methods of mass destruction and hurting other people. Its a double edged sword and its not something you can exactly stop. We as humans are naturally innovative people you can't stop the development of these things, and then theres the problem that if we don't do it someone else will. Though it begs the question as to when does technology go too far. If we make weapons that can literally destroy the world, which we pretty much already have in the form of nuclear bombs, how much worse can it get?

This was my second time rewatching this film and I've always been in love with the story and animation style especially. However, I was a bit confused trying to connect this to Foucault's text but I will try my best! Foucault’s conception of power as something dispersed, embodied, and constantly negotiated. When Mitsuha and Taki begin to switch bodies, they are thrown into a reality where their sense of self becomes unstable. The phenomenon is not caused by a villain or explained by a straightforward force of control, it simply happens.. This reflects Foucault’s idea that power isn’t something possessed by a sovereign entity or imposed from above but something that emerges from relationships and is exercised across a network of interactions. Taki and Mitsuha don’t fight the power that shapes their lives; instead, they adapt to it. They leave each other notes, create rituals, tie ribbons into hair, which are strategies of navigation within a shifting, relational field of power.

Gender, too, is discussed in this context. As Mitsuha is in Taki’s body and vice versa, they engage in subtle acts of gender performance — walking differently, speaking with a new tone, and modifying their appearance. When Mitsuha-in-Taki’s body ties her hair back with her own red ribbon, it’s an assertion of identity. Foucault argued that identity isn’t a fixed essence but the product of ongoing power relations and performances. Mitsuha and Taki’s transformations do not undermine their selves; they highlight how gender and embodiment are sites where power operates and is resisted.

Language and memory also play a crucial role. The scene where Taki tries to write his name on Mitsuha’s hand but instead writes “I love you” is more than just an emotional scene; it’s a refusal to participate in the logic of identification and categorization. Sort of like Butler's article on gender performativity or the articles about queering and fitting into "nontraditional" masculinity roles.

Hetalia Axis Powers took a really unique and comedic approach to world history, portraying countries as anthropomorphized characters with exaggerated stereotypes. It was really interesting and honestly kind of reminded me of Sailor Moon. While its humor can be very fun to take in, what really struck me was how the show also offered a lot of opportunities to really think critically and deeply about history, global relations, and even modern geopolitics.

The episodes introduce us to the central "characters," (really just countries) like Italy, Germany, and Japan from the Axis Powers, and England, France, America, and Russia from the Allies. Of course, this was reminiscent of the history we learned about World War II and the different relationships these countries had with each other. To be honest, the way their interactions were portrayed as comedic skits was fun to watch, yet they subtly highlighted historical dynamics that shaped the world (e.g. like Italy’s reliance on Germany or America’s boisterous personality juxtaposed with England’s dry bitterness). For instance, Episode 1 features the Axis trio working together in the early days of World War II, exaggerating Italy's incompetence and reliance on Germany, while symbolizing the cultural and economic dynamics of that alliance.

While I think that these caricatures can sometimes feel controversial to many people today, they encourage viewers and consumers like us to really think about the quirks and relationships between nation-states and how history has since shaped modern alliances and conflicts as we know them today. It’s a really creative way to make history accessible and interesting while raising awareness about the ongoing importance of international cooperation.

While it’s by no means a substitute for actual history books and history lessons, this anime definitely has the ability to spark curiosity and interest about the past and how it shapes our present world.

This was an extraordinary game to get to go through and watch the cutscenes of. Also, just an extraordinary game in general. I definitely recommend playing or simply watching all of the cutscenes, because the story as a whole is really quite fantastic, and there is some characters you don't really even get to know or meet with the part that we were required to watch. So, just note that there is so much more than just what we quickly went through. Definitely my favorite thing we have covered so far within this class.

I feel like there is so many places to go with this game, there is a post-apocalyptic world to discuss as well as so many different interpersonal themes spurted throughout. So that this post does not get too long, I have decided to talk about two main aspects in two different paragraphs. First will be the world and second will be the characters.

The world of Xenoblade Chronicles 2 is a postapocalyptic world in which mankind lives on the backs of giant creatures named titans. It is during the setting of this game that the Titans have begun to die off, leading the world to a sense of desperation, at least from the perspective of Rex. This leads him to want to explore and discover Elysium so that he can provide safety and a utopia to the people who all live in Alrest. Elysium means ideal happiness. So, it is important to note that even the creator is calling this location a place worthy of a utopia. As you watch the story unfold things get a lot darker and you learn that Alrest is the aftermath of a destructive event which destroyed Old Earth, or as it is called the Land of Morytha. This world that was destroyed looks exactly like ours. This shows a direct connection between the real and fantasy provided within the story of this game. It is also important to note the destructive nature of mankind, the Anthropocene which is seen within the game itself. This connects to our article, which discussed the changes that us humans are capable of making. I bring this all up and together with the note of how many different aspects there are to this world. Living off the backs of Titans could be equated to the need humans have on so many different nonrenewable resources and each other. It also could be used to show the importance of life and an ecosystem. The destruction of Earth as we know it can show either the hubris of mankind and man trying to play god. There is also discussion of the cyclical nature that humans live within, always repeating past mistakes. That being said, Rex, is shown to help break free from this. Which could be attributed to either destiny or free will depending on how you read the story. Regardless, the world of Xenoblade Chronicles 2 develops so many themes in such an exemplary manner.

Now to discuss the characters. Most notably, I'd like to talk about Rex. He is such a fascinating main character. This is because at the offset he seems like generic shonen protagonist no.1. That is quickly dissuaded, at least from my view, as we watch him on his journey. This is because the way he views the world is idealistic in a manner which I do not feel fits a common protagonist. This is because he sees the world being destroyed and instead of the usual heroes journey, he takes smaller steps in helping himself and others out. He does have the main quest, but I never felt like his goal was simply that. He cared a lot about Pyra, worked towards her goal. Even though they were aligned, I never felt like he would have done anything differently if they weren't. In this manner, he was very down-to-earth. He worked towards what he was able to solve, then followed through on that. He knew bad things were happening and got thrown into the middle of it, but it wasn't in a manner which a protagonist usually follows. It was much more in the method of simply doing things for the smaller purpose. That isn't to say he wouldn't have gone to find Elysium on his own, just more so that he was about the present, not the future in a lot of ways. In a good way. Now, I could also go deep into the meanings of Pyra/Mythra, their duality and connection with Malos, but that is a lot. So, I will leave that discussion for another time.

Overall, such a fascinating story which was executed very well. Definitely recommend and will look through the game again.

In Hayao Miyazaki's "Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind," the portrayal of a dying land serves as both a backdrop and a central theme, emphasizing the consequences of ecological neglect and the interconnectedness of life. The polluted and toxic environment presents a stark contrast to the beauty of its remaining untouched areas, highlighting a world in distress. The Toxic Jungle, a vast expanse of mutated flora and fauna, looms ominously in the narrative, representing nature's fierce response to humanity's past transgressions. Nausicaä, the film's protagonist, emerges as a beacon of hope amid the decay. Her deep understanding and empathy toward nature challenge the fear-driven perceptions of the Toxic Jungle. For instance, her encounters with the Ohmu, massive insect-like creatures that inhabit the jungle, reveal a complexity often overlooked by others. Rather than fearing these beings, Nausicaä strives to communicate with and understand them, demonstrating that there is depth and purpose in even the most grotesque appearances. "You don't need to understand what you see. Just look with your heart," she tells those around her, urging them to see beyond the surface. Moreover, the film highlights the dire impact of human actions on the environment. The remnants of advanced civilizations, such as the ruins of the Pejite and Tolmekian societies, serve as grim reminders of what happens when technology and ambition disrupt the delicate balance of nature. These societies fell prey to their own hubris, leading to widespread devastation—a cautionary tale that resonates throughout the film. The visuals of desolation, with ruined cities succumbing to overgrowth and poisonous spores, provoke a strong sense of reflection on humanity's relationship with its surroundings. Ultimately, "Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind" implores viewers to reconsider their role in the ecosystem. The beauty of the natural world, even in its most terrifying forms, deserves respect and protection. As Nausicaä fights to restore balance, the narrative champions a message of coexistence and stewardship, urging us to reflect on the state of our own environment and the legacy we leave behind. Through Nausicaä’s quest, we are reminded that healing our world requires compassion, understanding, and action before it is too late.

The End of Evangelion is a stark cinematic alternative to the introspective conclusion of the Neon Genesis Evangelion television series, opting for visceral intensity and apocalyptic scale. The film immediately establishes a darker tone with its controversial opening scene, depicting Shinji Ikari's profound despair and setting the stage for an unflinching exploration of trauma.

The depiction of violence is explicit and consequential. The assault on NERV headquarters results in numerous graphic casualties, most notably the protracted, brutal demise of Asuka Langley Soryu following her battle with the Mass Production EVAs. This sequence, alongside Misato Katsuragi's sacrificial death, underscores the film's shift towards externalized horror and consequence, contrasting with the often psychological focus of the series.