Studio: Brain's Base
Director: Kunihiko Ikuhara and
Shōko Nakamura
Screenplay: Kunihiko Ikuhara and
Takayo Ikami (with collaborations from Shingo Kaneko and Tomohiro Furukawa)
Voice Cast: Miho Arakawa as
Himari Takakura; Ryohei Kimura as Shōma Takakura; Subaru Kimura as Kanba
Takakura; Marie Miyake as Ringo Oginome; Akira Ishida as Keiju Tabuki; Mamiko
Noto as Yuri Tokikago; Yui Horie as Masako Natsume; Yutaka Koizumi as Sanetoshi
Watase
Viewed in Japanese with English Subtitles
This is a special work to cover, and in the time period it was released, Mawaru Penguindrum, mostly known for many as just Penguindrum, was the first title Kunihiko Ikuhara worked on in the driver's seat for twelve years. This was my first production from Kunihiko Ikuhara, going off a reputation of a work out of availability in the United Kingdom, in the legendary 1997 TV series Revolutionary Girl Utena, at the time, yet was the perfect period to discover his work. Made by Brain's Base, with co-direction of the series with Shōko Nakamura, those involved with Penguindrum are just as worthy of praise, but this was significance that Ikuhara had effectively been in exile since The Adolescence of Utena (1999), returning with this complex production. Penguindrum was a considerable return, and it is a heady production in content, aesthetics and themes, with the grace that, as if making up for not working throughout the 2000s, Ikahara in the 2010s effectively made a triptych of titles with Penguindrum, Yurikuma Arashi (2015) and Sarazanmai (2019), which share the aesthetic touches and his attitude to telling serious points.
Penguindrum out of all of them is the more ambitious to return to, juggling a precarious challenge between humour and empathy against some of the most sombering subject matter a show can have even from the get-go, with the set up that brothers Shōma and Kanba Takakura have a terminally ill younger sister Himari. Collapsing whilst visiting the aquarium, it sadly seems she has passed, until the flamboyant penguin hat they found at the gift store resurrects her, and has a personality within it which is brazen and requests that, to save her life, they need the acquire the titular Penguindrum. The Penguindrum itself is something which is vague throughout the series, but becomes a huge connector in themes and mood, all initially stemming with a young teen girl named Ringo Oginome and her diary, someone Shōma goes with but realises is stalking his male homeroom teacher Keiju.
The show is already challenging even if, at first, its first act is initially humorous, the tone comedic as Ringo's goal to win over Keiju to love her is playfully absurd, but all in mind, including literally sleeping under his house, her goals are problematic. The comedy of this initial set-up, including the more problematic nature of Ringo's goal, and the sympathy you yet have for her when you learn quickly why she is doing this, part of a trauma of her parents simply divorcing, is an initial gamble for the story to have take. Penguindrum is entirely a gamble, with one outright villain notwithstanding, all about damaged and traumatised people trying to find themselves even if they will consider deeply objectionable choices, even that villain the result of a world within itself, while love is the answer, marked as equal by cruelty. This is more a challenge in how this is depicted in the style that would be Ikuhara's 2010s aesthetic style with his production teams. Originally he was openly inspired by the Japanese avant-garde to the point that, for Utena, J. A. Seazer, known for his collaborations with film maker and experimental theatre creator Shuji Terayama, to compose music for that series and partially for the theatrical film. The difference here is that this feels of the 2010s as the later shows in tone.
When I had reached Ikuhara, he made his first toe dips with
digital animation with The Adolescence
of Utena, embracing the modernism of the changes in the animation industry
without losing his initial style, a pop surrealism but a style with distinct
layers. It is a style which takes real drama but with metaphors to it that
over-the-top at times, but also capable of incredibly subtlety in evocative
imagery. The Penguin hat's real world, setting this up, with the pace and tone
of a magical girl transformation sequence, if combined with a music video, has enough
to unpack in just the first time it appears. The bear mecha, elegant costumes,
bright colours, music for the show which is symbolically interlinked, symbolism
which only is unpacked by the ending and can be missed, and even the incestuous
tone of the first "Survival Tactic" sequence, which begins the quests
with the sensual gripping of the heart and has loaded meaning when more is
learnt of these characters back stories.
That is not even mentioned the penguins. The three shows from their creator are all symbolised by animals or mythological creatures - later bears for Yurikuma Arashi, kappa for Sarazanmai - with penguins the mascots here, sent to the Takakura family as representatives for each of them, which cannot be seen by anyone else but are very real. There is so much within Penguindrum - referencing Kenji Miyazawa's Night on the Galactic Railroad explicitly throughout, dealing with parental trauma, both of a terrorist act and also parental sexual abuse, abandonment for children, cults and even explicitly the 1995 Tokyo subway sarin attack by the Aum Shinrikyo cult - and yet Ikuhara and the production team still have the anthropomorphic penguins even in serious moments present, symbolically connected to the themes but openly comedic. This for me, back when I first saw the show, and still now, show the bar of quality Penguindrum has above many animated series, in how this takes some huge dives into plot twists about the skeletons in characters' past, and yet can within the same scene combine moments of pure sincerity even with comedic penguins. The penguins present the ids of those involved, less Himari's ,but for Shōma a neat freak with an obsession with eating anything and everything, Kanba 's following his womanising a perverted penguin with nudie mags and stealing women's underwear, and this touch manages to even make jokes which would be cringe worthy work, such as a joke about women' underwear managing to actually be funny when it involved a sentient penguin.
There is a fourth penguin, and whilst later shows from Ikuhara were around twelve episodes or so, Penguindrum has twenty four, and a lot of characters to flesh out, all with their own traumas and self discovery to find including Masako, owner of the fourth penguin who is removing the memories of Kanba from his ex-girlfriend and wishes him to be by her side. Ikuhara and the screenwriters, with the creative team involved, manage with all these characters to tackle some incredibly adult and even transgressive material in a show which on the surface is incredibly bright and will be playful in tone. Characters will commit to awful acts, and yet everyone will be revealed to be sympathetic, be it Keiju with his fiancée, a Takarazuka actress Yuri, Ringo with her own need for closure when she is trying to bring her parents back together, and her late sister Momoka, a girl with the unnatural ability to change fates who is central to the Penguindrum itself and the narrative. In its centre is a terrorist attack in 1995 the Takakura children' parents were involved with and is a lasting scar for the boys, a ghost to return when a character named Sanetoshi, a literal ghost, wishes to try for their destructive act again even if it means playing with the hearts of many and even try to corrupt one of the Takakura siblings to his side.
It is a show where from the first episode to the last, the world has drastically altered over the time, the perceptions of the characters so radically changed as secrets are revealed, to the point the tone has drastically changed too, all linked to the diary that Ringo inherited from her late sister Momoka, Ikuhara's style using fantastical metaphors for people's emotions and fantasies, even for incredibly bleak material such as the theme of child abandonment, dubbed " The Child Broiler" in this series where children who in real life would be ignored and left in the cycle of foster homes, or on the streets, even ordinary children who never get a chance to stand out even if they had ordinary lives, are shredded here and become "invisible", not allowed to stand out as individuals. The light touch to its content is set up within the first episodes with a character who is at first an unapologetic stalker in Ringo, wishing for Keiju as an older man to fall for her as a teenager, a perfect set-up for how severe some of the content is, yet can have risks taken to them such as these episodes being incredibly funny despite being about a female stalker.
One of the best earlier episodes about her goal in this, only to realise its folly and find herself falling for Shōma instead, is set around a fantasy, one of many in her delusions designed like a pop up fairy tale book based on 18th century French/European aesthetics, a farce for the whole episode in trying to win over Keiju at the park involving his fiancée, a pet skunk that has gotten loose, and a disastrous attempt to use a hairy caterpillar. Yet even within this first act, which spirals out and even undercuts the relationship between the Takakura siblings, it is a still a grim tale for Ringo which she learns to escape from before she makes a legitimate mistake, one with psychological damage likely to happen for herself and for Keiju if she had committed to it. Even when done for humour this is a constant, Masako's back story one of the later episodes which is exceptional too, episode sixteen with credit to co-writers Shingo Kaneko and Tomohiro Furukawa, for a one-off between them, landing fully. It reveals she was raised with her sibling Marion by their grandfather, a giant in industry she inherited the wealth and power from, but a horrifying figure of toxic masculinity where, even as a child, she has dreams of assassinating him just to protect Mario from being turned "into a man". It is done with humour, so much so that, even in mind with the limitations of English acting in Japanese dubs, knowledge of Ikuhara having spent time in the United States makes even the casting of the grandfather's Western male assistant, with his wooden exclamations, likely to have been on purpose. Based around a series of macabre farces, imagining herself killing her grandfather, before his idiotic attempt to prepare poisonous blowfish by himself becomes his ultimate demise, it is a great episode within any other series, fleshing out a major side character, but here is one of many raking risks.
In these fantasies and light flourishes are however still the grim content, including material which some will find deeply uncomfortable in watching. One plot thread which is reoccurant, and is the one which was a risk to include but manages to find a dramatic weight in, is that characters nearly commit the act of drugging individuals with the intention of sexual relations with, which is an even bigger taboo with good reason a decade after the show was made. One is a joke involving the aphrodisiac from a rare toad, but the other two have Ringo herself, and then Yuri, nearly make the mistake of something harmful for them and the person involved. Yuri's is more transgressive, and why despite its light touch this was a rare anime to get an eighteen certificate in the United Kingdom, a rating for physical media which only very sexually explicit or violent work get.
That episode in another's hands would have turned Yuri into a predatory lesbian with severe psychological damage from her childhood, as crass and offensive as that would be. In mind to Utena and Yurikuma Arashi being explicitly LGBTQ narratives about women, escaping patriarchal views and true love between women, and Sarazanmai touching upon a male lead admitting a crush on one of the others, Ikuhara is someone admired for these works for these characters and themes, someone whose contributions to depicting gay characters in his work and how beautiful the depictions of them were will be one of his lasting legacies. Here Yuri's story is a huge risk he could have failed at, still could have been disastrous even with all the well wishes from other work, but as well, this is far more nuanced. Her back story is as bleak as it gets in the show, of a father's abuse of both a sexual and harmful kind, metaphor through the chiselling of stone so he makes her "beautiful", and that her life like others is embraced around the loss of Momoka, a figure who brought happiness to characters who were in despair and was lost when they were all still children, reflected later when another tries to get revenge for her death on Takakura family for the sins of their parents. In mind that these two bleak moments, one a male victim of drugging, the other Ringo herself, they do need to be warned about as they are extremely adult subjects to have tackled, but these are the moments where the show has nuances some anime never reach in managing, somehow, to make these characters, on both sides of the scenes, sympathetic and the content with meaning.
There is of course the subject at this anime's centre, which manages to have been an even greater risk to tackle. In 1995, the religious cult of Aum Shinrikyo set sarin gas off in the Tokyo Metro subway, killing fourteen bystanders and injuring over a thousand, a subject whose resonance as a tragedy over the years has been broached in art including Haruki Murakami's Underground, a 1997-8 non-fiction book interviewing victims of the attacks and members of the Aum Shinrikyo cult, a book which is included in a scene in the background with a Murakami short story, Super-Frog Saves Tokyo, explicitly referenced in an episode whilst the character cannot remember its exact title. Penguindrum is explicitly referencing this tragedy in its opening credits of the first episode, with the terrorist attack here set in 1995 too, with subway trains and fate being interwoven on them the common metaphor. Fate is a huge subject of this, including that baring one villain, everyone here is a person of complexity, even the terrorist group's undefendable attack stemming from what they thought was a cruel world, one which abandoned children they adopted in the Child Broiler, and they felt such an extreme act was necessary. The show manages, with such a real subject and uncomfortable subject, to succeed, and with its vast amount of plot strands, its various repeating metaphors (the apples for example) and its many risks including all the comedy and whimsy still here, it is an ambitious success for televised anime. It is, out of the three from Ikuhara's 2010s, the most complicated and arguably the most challenging. It is however also something beautiful, literally in its craft and in its heart, and absolutely a gem from the decade it was made in.
It was the first of Kunihiko Ikuhara's work I had seen, as mentioned early in this review, and it is in hindsight such a vast production to have discovered him through, but one whose lasting impact left me a fan of his work, and returning to was stronger now than it was before, right up to the final episodes, with the explicit Night of the Galactic Railroad references, a bittersweet happy ending and full abstract metaphors beautifully depicted. The project's lasting influence can be seen in the curious choice, in 2022, Ikuhara with studio Lapin Track created the two part compilation films, for theatres, called the Re:cycle of Penguindrum (2022). Compilation films are a curious concept in anime, especially in trying to tell the nuisances of Penguindrum's original twenty four episodes in two films, but alongside new material, and Momoka's prominence as a character taken further, clearly there was a reason for Ikuhara to return to this show's themes. There was material worthy for him to bring back to the public as much as, even if I view this 2011 series as perfect, he felt he could retell differently in a new way. The source material for this decision enough is still special even in the modern day, and further attention on it was worthwhile.
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