Engaged to the Unidentified is a decent show. It’s watchable. It doesn’t have much of a plot; it exists to sell episodes, so it is definitely in no hurry to resolve its conflicts. The “Status Quo Is God” stereotype prevents it from building up any grand meaning.
Its final episode of the season seemed more than a little contrived. The first half built up some angst, but it wasn’t convincing. The characters are pretty flat. I haven’t seen Twilight, but I hear it is about a typical girl who is made wonderful by the fact that an awe-inspiring man loves her. That would be a fair summary of Engaged to the Unidentified.
By the final episode, there was a little tiny bit of character growth for the heroine, and her relationship with her love interest got a tiny bit more intimate, but obviously the story does its best to change at the slowest possible pace. It’s very easy to tell the basic two-virgins-fall-in-love-for-the-first-time story. However, as in Twilight, the audience is fascinated by the virginity of the characters rather than the personalities. Once a virgin-story ends with the consummation in marriage, the characters stop being interesting.
By contrast, Silver Spoon showed the higher quality of its writing by a better climactic episode.
Lots of people are in favor of attractive breasts.
Women are proud of them – or envious of them. Men (generally) want to touch them.
But the fact is that real-world breasts have real-world flaws.
I realize that speaking frankly about this will disgust some people.
Very few anime shows present realistically flawed breasts. One notable exception is Hozuki no Reitetsu.
I admire that show because it manages to keep viewers interested without ero-moe fan service. It provides a few cute animals and a few elegant pretty ladies who don’t show a lot of skin.
But I am not trying to move you to despair.
I’m just being somewhat smug.
Lauren is a journalist who watches anime, and she’s upset about Niko.
One thing I really like about the male lead in Engaged to the Unidentified is that unlike many anime heroes, he is not too shy about just reaching out and touching the girl he loves.
Daydreaming can condense into a down-to-earth plan to get what you want. If you have a desire that is within the realm of realistic possibility, your daydreams can become a plan for getting the specific thing that you want.
Daydreaming can also comfort you with thoughts of the thing you love, even when you’re separated from the object of your love in reality.
ultra-fast racing motorcycles,
hexapod armored tanks, and
super-powered gynoid commando-bodies (which are, after all, just vehicles for cyber-brains).
Daydreaming can also evaporate upward into compensation-fantasy. Masamune Shirow, for example, seems to lust after vehicles for which he would have little use, such as
We all have some sensitivity to some kind of beauty; fast vehicles have a kind of beauty, and Shirow appreciates the beauty of vehicles. Some of Shirow’s characters, however, seem to go beyond appreciating the vehicle. At some point, a human who makes a big deal about how much she loves her motorcycle is using the motorcycle as a substitute for human relationships. And at some point, a sci-fi writer who can’t get over the desirability of gynoid cat-girls has transferred his motorcycle fetish into an android fetish. Continue reading
Episode 2 had some incredibly primitive animation, but a lot of snappy writing and energy. Whoever is directing it is doing a good job maintaining the momentum and energy level so that the audience doesn’t notice it’s a silly farce with good jokes.
The solitary male character is shaping up as a very Japanese hero – a strong, silent, self-sacrificing samurai from an old, dignified family.
Why am I enjoying a show with so many stereotypes? Is it just very good at polishing well-worn tropes to a lustrous finish? Will it manage to hold my attention for an entire season?