Death Parade is a series with a perfect aesthetic.
Its overly glamorous, low-light bar setting invokes a high-class casino,
where upon lost souls are forced into games which reveal their true natures and determine their destinies.
The show looks exactly like the message that it's trying to send.
But as much as I can praise the show for that,
it is not *my* aesthetic.
The ideas of determining the quality of human souls or revealing someone's so-called "true nature"
don't appeal to me.
These themes don't reflect the way that I look at the world,
and so the presentation which matches them so well doesn't hold my attention either.
Gorgeous as the visuals may be, my first impression upon seeing it was that this show probably wasn't going to be my kind of thing.
I felt the exact opposite about Kill la Kill.
I knew that this was my kind of show from the title alone.
Kill la Kill is so ostentatiously over-the-top, that it literally has the word "kill" in it *twice*.
There's little chance that no one on the production thought about Kill Bill when they named it that either,
not when we're talking about a show featuring cameos of Pulp Fiction characters.
And as a life-long Tarantino fan, that kind of stuff gets me wet.
I've broken down the opening minutes in extensive detail before,
but the moment that truly got me pumped was the image of Ryuko staring up at a gigantic pillar of a city.
I read into this: "I am down here, and I need to be up there."
Or perhaps: "This entire structure is what I need to conquer."
And that's exactly how I look at the world:
As a challenge only as massive as the ego which I'm going to use to conquer it.
So of course, I also relate to the ego-driven Ryuko,
whose quest is based entirely in self-interest,
and who is a lemon-eating-edgelord-fucking-weirdo.
From there we embark upon twenty-five episodes of the most energetic and inventive animation that I've ever seen,
which I've also talked about previously.
And like in the case of Death Parade, the aesthetic compliments the narrative perfectly.
In many cases, informing it.
Fashion plays a major role in the series,
so every character wears a multitude of outfits,
showcased in the second OP and added on to as more are revealed.
As someone who's into cute and cool clothes, this has my attention.
There's a strong focus on breaking down dichotomies and embracing dualism.
So color-theming always occurs in opposites:
black versus white in the outfits, red versus blue in the backgrounds, et cetera.
All of which is obliterated until the characters are stark-naked,
all that they are and in unity.
I've written more about these themes and how much I love them in other videos.
Even more importantly, I am obsessed with sex and sexuality
and how these things are perceived and understood in culture.
And the show explores these ideas while getting all of its characters naked.
And in their nudity is found authenticity, which is an obsession of mine too.
There is so much intimacy between the script and design work of this series,
that it's impossible to imagine one without the other.
Each was crafted as a perfect complement.
See, for instance the character designs, which are highly attractive,
yet blobby and unsexy,
keeping the message from ever being that we should lust after the characters,
but instead that we explore their nudity.
The manic pacing and phonetic animation of Kill la Kill would not be appropriate for every anime series,
but if one was trying to capture my interest and to visually communicate the themes that resonate with me most,
then this is the style which it would adopt.
That is to say that shows about these subjects and featuring this visual style are *always* going to be up my alley,
in a way that other shows just can't compete with.
Even if they do whatever they do as well as they possibly could do it.
Kill la Kill looks like the inside of my mind
and is preoccupied with many of the same thoughts which reside therein.
Kill la Kill is above-average in complexity, but is forthright.
It doesn't spell every little thing out, but it is far from veiled.
And is rife with calling cards towards its deeper intentions.
You don't have to be a genius to enjoy this show.
Part of why I like it is that I think enormous, cartoon-ish blood spurts are fucking hilarious.
But if you *are* a genius, then this show isn't going to insult you.
And it's going to give you a lot to chew on as you continue thinking about it.
If you're smart enough to detect it, you'll quickly realize that the people making this show are even smarter.
They know what they're doing on a level you might not even be able to parse,
and by you, I also mean me.
What I mean to praise here is that the series is honest and unguarded.
It wants you to get it and to have a good time.
And it's not trying to rub it in your face how smart it is.
It's just genuinely emotional.
And those emotions are coming from a real place.
It's not trying to hand you a puzzle or to trick you.
Not to say those things can't be fun, but as someone who prizes my ability to speak my mind clearly and directly,
I feel closer to media which can do the same with eloquence.
It's also not afraid to be cringey and true to itself.
Sometimes, it's fucking stupid and perverse and problematic.
I've forgive and embrace all of that because I am also all of those things without reservation.
If that's not all subjective enough for you, I have also generally don't like orchestral music.
Like, at all.
I'm not into film score, and I'll always prefer the use of contemporary music.
So I celebrate composers like Sawano, who can make a brilliant soundtrack of rock music
that will not only get me hyped during every major scene in the show,
but also get me hyped in my car and in my bedroom and at the karaoke booth.
"Before My Body is Dry" is an absolutely legendary piece of BGM,
but "Blumenkranz" is legit one of my favorite songs to ever come from an anime soundtrack.
Considering my background isn't stuff like heavy metal and worshiping epic moments,
this is sort of my comfort zone.
Studio Trigger is known for the ethos represented in their work,
one carried over from their history as a part of Gainax.
Their desire to break rules, do as they please, and say "Fuck you" to anyone who questions them.
But they also wanna make good, meaningful shows that will appeal to and affect people.
At least, on occasion when the inspiration strikes.
So, Kill la Kill functions perfectly fine as a coherent and engaging story.
Even as it sticks its tongue out to formalism.
It does this most often by way of Harime Nui.
It kind of borderlines deus ex machina with no fondness for the fourth wall,
built to be as obnoxious as humanly possible.
It's not a surprise that she's probably the most hated character in the show,
nor is it a surprise that a hipster-contrarian-like me absolutely loves her.
To some, it is weird that a story which could have been perfectly constructed
would throw in some random, bullshit red herring that makes it impossible to take seriously.
To me, taking something seriously sounds like a chore.
And I'll be glad if a story gives me permission not to.
But then it's not a stretch to say that Gainax and Trigger ethos is what shaped me to feel this way.
I've been watching shows that these people have made for decades.
And the work of writer Kazuki Nakashima and director Hiroyuki Imaishi
was already massively important to me when I was coming-of-age in high school and Gurren Lagann came out.
Not to speak of the number of times I've seen Fooly Cooly
or the impact which Evangelion had had on me by then.
Getting to enjoy another show from this collective perspective is always going to a source of excitement for a lifer like me,
someone who's own art style was deeply informed by these people
and who is happy to get to do my work in a world where there's still finding new ways to inspire me.
I can't help but to view art in a vast, continuum, where in everything informs each other
coming from the same root all the way at the bottom.
And so shows like this, which wear their influences on their sleeves and pay homage to all of their favorites
are special to me.
I know others who prize a series for being self-contained,
but for me, it's impossible to look at a work and ignore the lives of the creators and the world which surrounds their creation.
So, it makes my life easier in a way if the creator spells it all out for me.
Plus, it's a great way to get recommendations of older stuff to watch that may be similar.
Everything that ought to be good about Kill la Kill is good.
And it is also good in many ways that didn't even have to be.
Satsuki is a phenomenal character in a show already full of great and memorable personalities.
And that alone has probably earned the show a lot of critical approval.
But this isn't about what I think Kill la Kill does well.
Those are things that I can appreciate, but which don't really matter in the long run.
I don't consume media only to see a technician executing something perfectly;
I consume it for some kind of deeper communication and resonance of ideas.
I want to be understood by media and to understand others through it.
To see something that I care about being cared about by someone else.
And to see my feelings made tangible so that I can understand them and carry them around with me.
Kill la Kill is one of my favorite anime because it captures an attitude, spirit, and set of interests which I share so gorgeously.
This video is the first in a series that I will be doing explaining why each of my favorite anime is among them.
If you feel that you need more context into my perspective on anime to get something out of this,
then I recommend this playlist of videos which I consider essential to understanding my outlook.
Check that out and support me on Patreon if you wanna help me keep making more videos.
Thanks again for watching and I'll see you in the next one.