Empire of Genocidal Harmony:
Triple Review Feature
Published 2019-06-15 nativelyEmpires of Corpses (SnT), Genocidal Organ (GK), and Harmony
They will be covered in that order; watch them in that order. Empire of Corpses is by a wide margin the most comfortable, although having regular bits of intellectual rigour, and the best way to form an initial impression. If the writing and animation is appealing, then one should move onto the other films which are more divergent. All three share the same original author, effective production studio, and approximate run-time of 114-120 minutes; small brains with small attention spans can get bent. Which isn't to say that the content is exclusively big-brained; SnT is very conventional in most of its execution, and skimps on technical development and plot coherency. Genocidal Organ is, contrariwise, big-brained even by the standards of sci-fi anime, and even the (sparser) action sequences are staged with more attention to technology and realism than flashy gunplay. Harmony, from its opening minutes, charts an odd tonal middle-point between the two, as it has both the ability to use its far-future setting to deviate more from explanations of feasibility that bind a modern/near-future or historical context and instead play with a greater creative range, but also applies that to a concept more abstract from its outset than the other two films.
SnT ain't here to yank your dick; the entire premise is given to you within the first four minutes, while introducing the primary protagonist-duo of cute-boy and cute-boy-who-is-dead; each film will revolve around such a duo. For obvious reasons, the dynamic seems initially one-sided, but where SnT begins to distinguish itself from smaller-brained anime is in its artful handling, where there is as much of an exchange of mystery and tension as between two living participants, even while it remains peripheral to the plot for most of the film. Yet the basic premise, and early emergence of that plot, more than takes up the slack in the meantime, quickly introducing further characters who each introduce their own impetus and a-la-Brownian-motion advance the narrative. Then things begin exploding, followed by a technical explanation of why those things are exploding, and more literary and historical allusions than an undergrad philosophy orgy. Any enthusiast of colonial history and the Great Game will be feted by such details, at least until it wanders away from geopolitics to further explore its defining concept.
Compared to the following films, there's little to say about the aesthetic aspects except that the visuals are smooth, immaculately-detailed, and impressively varied considering its run-time, and that the audio is serviceable, with distinct voice acting that avoids any international cliches, and reserved soundtrack. Lighting and shadow are SnT's primary aesthetic, with many scenes outlined by firelight or gas lanterns, or even the play of evening sunlight, but nothing will lack attention or falter under inspection, from landscapes to characters; notwithstanding the bias towards impassive expressions in all anime. SnT certainly features the most attractive corpse in recent memory, although if one's tastes don't run towards 5'10"s with tousled hair it's a fairly long time until any tiddy-based fanservice arrives. The action sequences are definitely up to par with any modern film, and get fairly impressive as the plot becomes more and more unhinged in the second half. Which is, coincidentally, where the philosophical thrust is fully-formed, along with some crazy metaphysical transmutation; worth the build-up. It's also very shiny. Oh, and watch through the credits.
GK sets its framing early with the realist trifecta of terrorism, senate hearings, and genocide in the Balkans. This time, our protagonist duo of cute boys are CIA, doing wetwork under the eyes of Washington. It's all very big-brained, very smooth, and very high-tech. Then the plot kicks you in the dick. Which is initially unpleasant, but mostly leaves one confused and uncertain, and waiting for answers; GK reminds me of my ex. Instead of explaining what the fuck is going on, GK kindly establishes more of the contextual background (terrorism and the security-state) and that of our kawaii supersoldaten. It's all very polished, sophisticated, modern, American. These long pauses and heavy emphasis on dialogue, metapolitics, international intrigue, et all, may be somewhat tedious, but it also thoroughly establishes the parameters for the much-more dynamic narrative to follow, which will cycle through more interesting characters and themes than the first half-hour lets on. One's enjoyment of the remainder, and of GK as a whole, will be largely determined by how comfortable they are with the dialogue sections and the ideas they present, however a full explanation does emerge later on, and if one is a technophile there are enough such sequences to provide some satisfaction. GK remains indubitably the most cerebral, least visceral of the films.
Aesthetics are never accordingly never lacking, never unsightly, but rarely very spectacular either. The visuals are subtler than either of the other two films, both in its realistic depictions of international locales and its fictional technologies. The audio is unremarkable but quality; one interesting note is its fidelity in languages as background elements. What you see, what you hear, is clearly meant to convincingly convey events, not provide any more profound gratification; it is the collection of those events and their snapping-into-place when the full array of puzzle-pieces is assembled which is what the film is really after, that sudden moment of clarity, after which the consequences, and the narrative resolution, spool out like so many speculations, so many academic questions, so many mutterings in the halls of power.
Lastly, as a film firmly set within the modern, near-future era, its observations about human nature, the tendencies of power, and the interests of civilization are all more pointed, more cutting, than the more abstract ideas which occupy the other two. For that reason alone, the climactic confrontation scene ought to be required big-brain viewing.
From the people who brought you "Zombie Imperialism" and "CIA Linguistics" comes "What The Fuck Is Wrong With These Lesbians", deviating from the other two movies which starred a duo of kawaii boys by focusing on a duo of lesbians this time, while remaining well within the fuckable range. While Empire of Corpses (SnT) was set in the Victorian era, Genocidal Organ (GK) in the modern-to-near-future, and Harmony in the far-future (technically middle-future, but with a far-future technology level), Harmony was actually released between SnT and GK. So why is it last? Misogyny? The vicissitudes of fate? Some extremely complex and abstract matrix of reasoning?
The animation style in Harmony uses more frequent and more overt CGI than either of the other two, and the viewer may be unsettled by the RWBY-esque feel to some of its objects/characters, but the visuals remain inventive enough and well-composed to make such laziness tolerable, at least while the focus continues moving, or lingers on one of the more well-crafted scenes. Such as the white-haired lesbian, who has the most delightful and subtle braids; tastefully examples of braiding are woefully rare in much of anime, and must be counted among the few major defects of the nips' aesthetic sensibilities. The red-haired lesbian, despite the clear aesthetic superiority of red hair is however altogether too distant and cold to appreciate initially, and only becomes compelling as character development abets a wider range of expression. Any unease about the somewhat-strange features, along with any attention to their aesthetics in general, is however quickly drowned out by one very obvious realization: these bitches are fucking crazy. Not some canned-tsundere-trope bullshit, but legitimate what-the-fuck-is-going-on crazy, and one often has to use most of their brain power attempting to piece together the emerging plot and setting. That may be difficult for people who lose 20% of their blood supply to superficial lesbianism, although a modest familiarity with the tone and tenor of middle-future science-fiction, namely the other films, will be able to separate out the various sequences into their plot-scales. The first and primary level is that at which the actual plot advances; the second level is that of flash-backs to white-haired waifu which give a philosophical framing; the third level is that of explanatory narration, which gives a working explanation of the how and why. Being able to separate these categories makes it possible to avoid confusion during the early portion of the film, and get a basic grasp before the complexity really kicks in and the distinctions converge.
The payoff is, as with any intellectually-challenging work, well worth the effort of following it, engaging with it, yet for Harmony this is more contingent on disposition than the others; SnT had more conventionally-relatable characters at its focus, even if one of them was dead, and GK had a more impersonal focus. For someone without a degree of advanced misanthropy (articulate or subarticulate), that is, an emotionally or cognitively immature person, the tone and focus will likely be estranging and difficult to grasp, which combined with the already-alien setting will make it very difficult to follow the track the film sets out. The surface-level beauty of the primary lesbians, the only aspect which aids an easy engagement, is complicated by their antipathetic affect; the copresence of beauty and mental strangeness has long been one of the most difficult things for people to cope with. But if you can ride that wave, one not too strange to the nips, then it's very enjoyable. And boy will it fucking twist.
HH.
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