Shelf Life

Ultimate Space Pirate

In order to truly envelop yourself in Saikano and its characters, you need to completely abandon your desire to make sense of the world in which it takes place. There is no sense in trying to apply logic to the events, or try to figure out the context for the things that take place. In a way, it doesn't really matter. Yes, the title is She, the Ultimate Weapon, and yes, Chise losing her humanity at the expense of as-of-yet-impossible technology is one of the central plot points in the series. But what matters more is what effect her transformation has on those around her—especially her boyfriend Shuji, who can barely figure out a human relationship, much less how to date a weapon of mass destruction.

The central setup is a little threadbare. At some point in time, a giant war breaks out across the world. It's never really clear who's attacking whom, but everyone involved is hell-bent on destroying the other side. Japan ends up pinning their hopes on an unexplainable medical procedure that turns high school girl Chise into a weapon, complete with a full arsenal of bombs that burst out of her back, giant wings, and an arm that morphs into a variety of guns and cannons. Whether she's even "alive" in the traditional sense is questionable—her heartbeat is gone, and her body is cold and unfeeling. Yet what matters the most to her and Shuji, whom she only started dating recently, is maintaining any semblance of life. For them, that means staying together, even though none of them know what it means to be in a relationship. Inexperience aside, they don't seem to try very hard, either. At times, Shuji turns to another woman for comfort because he can't handle the truth about Chise. It's apparent from several instances that Shuji is not a great guy—he's a terrible boyfriend, he's a terrible friend, and he's a selfish jerk—but the characters largely forgive him. After all, the world is falling apart around them.

Even though Saikano is set in the middle of a terrible, bloody war, I've never really considered it a war story. To me, it's a story that takes place in spite of being in a war. Most of Chise's misery revolves around her morbid duties, her changing body, and her fear of her own destructive capabilities, but when she's not fighting, she's struggling to be something much more simple— a high school girl trying to figure out her first relationship. When she and Shuji are together, their conversations are awkward. They talk about sex in the way that horny, awkward teenagers talk about sex, punctuated mostly by stammers and ellipses. They talk about "going all the way" like it's a rite of passage ("that's what it means to be in love, right?"), without really even understanding their feelings for each other. For them, a hesitant grope on the chest is more important than openly talking about the war, or the reality of what Chise has become.

While the two do get to share some tender moments between the bomb blasts, Saikano is not a happy show. It is oftentimes gross and gruesome, both in its depictions of Chise's transformation and the effects of her work. And it is relentlessly depressing. Not only because of the deaths of characters, either; in a way, those feel less soul-crushing than the nihilistic way that the series plows towards the end of the world. The final episode is a gut-wrenching mix of loneliness and despair, where even the happiness in the characters' voices can't make up for what viewers realize must follow.

Watching Saikano after all these years, it still holds up remarkably well. The only difference is that things are somehow even more bleak and unnerving. The show hasn't changed, but I suppose I have. Shuji is more apparent to me now as someone who is deeply self-absorbed and immature, despite a character design that ages him by a couple decades. Chise is a lot more cold and fatalistic. The end result is a viewing experience that brings less tears than when I watched it over a decade ago, but makes me feel much more bleak about humanity. If there is a last love song, it's one that's prevailed at the cost of everything good in the world. It's a series well worth watching, despite its improbable story and unsympathetic characters, but it will leave a dark cloud hanging over your head for days.
- Bamboo[TOP]

Aoi Mitsukuni thinks that he's just a normal 15-year-old boy. He goes to school, hangs out with friends, and generally lives a quiet life in his small Japanese hometown. The only strange part is that his mother, Mito, constantly goes on long trips for her job as a world-renowned fashion model… or does she? In reality, Aoi's mother is a alien – the legendary space pirate Mito who happened to fall in love with a human while hiding out on Earth. Aoi resulted from this union, and Mito has resolved to raise him as a human to the extent of obscuring her own biology. Mito's race matures to look like human third-graders, and Aoi has never seen his mother without her adult-appearing exosuit. When Mito is forced to shed this skin to protect her son from the Galactic Patrol, Aoi sees his mother's true form for the first time. Can their mother/son bond withstand this revelation and the Galactic Patrol's upcoming onslaught?

I didn't expect to like Space Pirate Mito as much as I did. As far as I can tell, this show doesn't have much of a reputation. It's by Takashi Watanabe, the director of Slayers, and I'm not too fond of that show. I assumed that it'd be a forgotten Tenchi Muyo clone – an irreverent, raunchy 90s harem comedy with minimal plot and a self-insert male lead. Instead I was surprised to receive a sweet, eminently entertaining show that's also quite nuanced in its portrayal of women. It's not a deep story by any means, but the characters are all likable, their development is resonant, and the emotional beats land.

I was surprised to learn that it doesn't have an episodic narrative. There are a couple of semi-isolated adventures at the beginning of each of the show's two cours, but they're each primarily concerned with the protagonists' struggle against a primary antagonist. The first season has Ranban, the galactic dictator who's trying to get at the fugitive Mito through Aoi. Ranban is an imposing presence who becomes really enjoyable when they return later as an ally. The latter half has Hikari, the unhinged First Queen of the Galaxy who's trying to regain her throne after a 4.5 billion year slumber. Space Pirate Mito also pays a lot of attention to its bit players. Characters like Mito's generals and Aoi's schoolmates are relevant throughout the entire run. It's to the show's benefit – they're consistently funny and result in some of its best moments of pathos. My favorite was Kafuko, the “rich bitch” with possessive romantic interest in Aoi. This character type is usually limited to a bit villainous role, but Kafuko's commitment to her love over the course of his struggles is a surprising fount of heroism. Space Pirate Mito handles its large cast with unusual grace.

It's also about a relationship that I haven't seen represented in anime very much – a mother/son one.

The dub is also great. Not in terms of quality – that's dubious – it's just one of those older ones that's just a blast to listen to now. Most of the extras are given bizarre celebrity impersonations for no reason, it's spiced up with dumb jokes (at one point someone says that Kafuko's mother must have drunk too while pregnant with her, which is one of the meanest insults I've ever heard), and there's at least one performance that's so bad it becomes charming. For the most part, however, they treat the serious scenes with respect and the leads all give good performances. It's a best case scenario for Ye Olde Anime Dubs in that the material is too silly to really ruin, so it just ends up enhancing the existing comedy. It also resulted in this record inappropriate Christopher Walken impression, so there's that. Note, however, that the dub only goes up to episode 13 – Space Pirate Mito was originally released as two different shows (constituting the show's first and second halves) and only the first was localized.

I really feel like I've uncovered a hidden gem with Space Pirate Mito. It feels like a cross between The Vision of Escaflowne and Kill La Kill. Like Escaflowne, Space Pirate Mito is a work in a tired genre – wacky sci-fi fish out of water comedy – executed just about as well as it possibly could have been. Like Kill La Kill, it's a visually resplendent lady-led action show that explores themes like motherhood with surprising potency. As a plus for people who were turned off by Kill La Kill's exploitation of the female form, Space Pirate Mito is almost completely lacking in fanservice and displays remarkable breadth in its depiction of women. At first the milquetoast male protagonist, Aoi, seems like another Tenchi Muyo, but he turns out to be a remarkably compassionate young… well, you'll see!

Overall, Space Princess Mito is recommended as a blast of retro-anime fun. It's all of the flavor with none of the usual calories, and it might've earned itself a spot in the pantheon of my all-time favorites. Mito Mito!
- Gabriella[TOP]