Hatenko Yugi, episode 3

It's not entirely clear what's going on in this show. Rahzel is kicked out of her house with just a blind-folded teddy bear and a command to "see the world." She comes across an oh-so-myseriously-sexy albino-with-issues (and a gun) named Alzeido. They go on random adventures together (inexplicably joined by the playboy Baroqueheat) and learn the value of friendship and true love. Or something. Also, she has vague magic powers that seem to involve shooting generic energy blasts and the playboy can turn his hand into a... sword... thing. And don't worry about keeping any sense of time or space or tension during the fights, 'cause there is none.

It's got all the classic shoujo elements: a cheerful heroine, a silent-but-sexy type, and an overly affectionate hunk. The meandering "plot" and the lack of any distinct setting, per se, makes it difficult to follow - as do the stilted and heavy-handed references to Mysterious Pasts for both the bishis - but the actual dialogue was surprisingly sharp enough for me to give it a little time to develop. Our heroine isn't a swooning ditz, she's a reasonable bad-ass in her own right and her exchanges with both her gigolos are surprisingly entertaining. She's got a sharp tongue and so do they. Perhaps even more importantly, they don't insist on continually denying obvious feelings for each other. While they all certainly enjoy putting on the act that they don't care about each other, they all ultimately admit it and that gives Hatenko Yugi a leg up on my female harem shows.

Unfortunately, that's not really enough to overcome the show's central flaws. The hunks (and even Rahzel herself) are set up with intensely dramatic, mysterious and tragic backstories and we know this because we are told so. Flat out. Repeatedly. Usually by Rahzel herself. The accompanying heavy-handed metaphors drag whatever episodic plot they're foisted upon, giving everything a childish feeling at odds with the often dark and brutal subject matter. The undeniable gravitas is just shoved down the viewer's throat. It's possible it might have worked with some kind of central plot to hang on to, but instead it all collapses under its own meandering weight.

It's a shame, as I wouldn't have minded seeing more of Rahzel bickering with her man-whores. Fans of shoujo with a high tolerance for "Isn't that tragic?" who are looking for something a little different will probably find something to enjoy here, but everyone else can probably give it a pass. It could develop into something good, but with the level of storytelling presented thus far, it'll likely come at a high price.

based on 3 episodes : ANN : Wikipedia : YouTube

Shigofumi, episode 9

Fumika, a laconic albino loli, delivers letters from the dead to those still living. Encapsulating what they simply couldn't say while still alive, the letters invariably lead to further complications (and often violence). Fumika watches on passively, lamenting the foolish nature of humanity - then moving on to the next delivery. That's how it starts, at least. As it progresses, more is revealed about Fumika's own unique history, as well as for some other characters.

At first, there was a strong vibe that Shigofumi desperately wants to be Boogiepop Phantom with a cloaked, impassive girl usually sitting back and watching people brutalize and use each other, only acting when it impeded her own mission. There are even some genuinely horrific moments (Fumika interrupts some thugs beating a man for impregnating their "merchandise" to deliver a letter to "daddy" - it's just a bloody baby's hand-print) and surprisingly risque material (sexual and deep psychological abuse of children, teen suicide - material strong enough to merit multiple edits to content before broadcast). It never seems to handle the dark topics with the weight you might expect, however, and comes across as rather formulaic: Fumika shows up in the middle of some crazy situation to deliver a letter from someone who had just died (and thus precipitated said crazy situation) that only serves to further complicate everything until everyone just accept the death/information in the letter. At which point Fumika leaves, dropping some wise comment about how broken humans are and how they constantly hurt each other and can only find the courage to say what's important after it's too late.

It's very tempting to dismiss Shigofumi as a darker version of Ballad of a Shinigami and that wouldn't be entirely off the mark. As the series has progressed, however, its shed a bit of his formulaic, episodic format and allowed the characters to grow somewhat. Fumika loses her air of mystery but gains a great deal of empathy. Combined with voice acting that somehow managed to from annoying-as-hell to wonderfully-endearing, the show manages to almost succeed despite itself.

I've been writing this show off every episode. Giving it just one more chance to add up to anything, and each time I find myself coming back again. It's hard to say why - there's nothing really solid or amazing going on here. A growing attachment to the characters just keeps bringing me back in the hopes that they'll do something worthy of my attention. It seems unlikely that'll happen any time soon, however, as the show is already near its end. Recommended only if you're happy with something that will meander and never really face anything head-on, especially if you have an appetite for little slices of melodrama packaged with a "humans are so flawed" emo atmosphere.

based on 9 episodes : ANN : Wikipedia : YouTube