Posted by: coburn | April 23, 2008

it started with a wink

It’s a commonly heard criticism - “show x didn’t do anything for me, it was just another —— show”. Sometimes there’s an suggestion that the genre itself is to blame for being inherently rubbish, often it’s more a criticism of a lack of imagination, the show failing to find its distinct identity. I imagine it’s the bane of many a genre craftsman. And there’s one obvious way out for the writer.

Shows which subvert themselves allow the writer to reassure the viewer that they too are genre-literate. It’s like saying “look, I watch these shows too, and this is an attempt to engage with the genre and with you, the fan”. It undercuts that rude implication from the critics - that the writer is just a drudge, churning out replicas. And, obviously, this self-awareness can be made funny. But winking at the viewer is like winking at a child in a swimming pool, it has implications.

The Tower of Druaga succeeded in attracting much attention (including my own) when it turned out to start up with a colossal pisstake. It was, in a way, a statement which said more about what the show wasn’t trying to do than anything else. It lampooned plot conventions, exaggerated already silly things to magnificent degrees, it was crap fantasy driven to extremes. It felt like something made by fans, according to that old adage that to really satirise something you first have to love it.

As has become rapidly apparent, the series proper is a fairly straight fantasy quest, it is marching into well trodden territory, trying to milk it for a bit more quality. And the writers chose start out by taking a potshot at their genre tools. It knows there will be cynics, and takes a chance, goes for the wink.

Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuutsu also tried winking. Except that where Druaga countered expectations Haruhi pre-empted them. Before the series could reveal its supernatural elements it was making a parody of magical girl nonsense. Of course this parody got its laughs from being slipshod more than from being absurd - which I didn’t find all that funny. The intro also functioned as a genre-aware curveball, but instead it ended up being used an attempt at enticing the viewer through its ambiguity, in contrast to Druaga’s transparent satire.

Rather oddly, whilst I found Druaga’s opening much funnier, it was Haruhi’s which augured for a true sense of playfulness. It wasn’t such an explicit statement, just the first of many slices of peculiarity woven into the fabric. Both shows are, at their heart, sincere. Druaga is turning into an honest questing show, Haruhi had a genuine central message. But Druaga’s reality turns out to be rather close to what it lampooned. It has the odd joke (e.g. Jils’ choice of weapon in eps 2 and 3), but doesn’t follow the model of ep 1.

It’s much safer for a show to demonstrate self-awareness by being only partly genre-aware - taking the piss out of the marginal aspects (Haruhi’s espers), and leaving core ones sacred. Letting the winks at the audience serve as a playful aside. Rather in the way that Love Hina invites the absurd with gusto but tries to retain the integrity of the love story at its heart.

Incidentally, the Druaga hero Jil, as seen in episode 1, is a daydreaming deadringer for Keitaro. By episode 2 he’s moving away from this clutziness toward a more serious character (although he does successfully walk in on a naked girl by accident (”S-such talent for awkwardness, you must be…. the chosen one… the protagonist!”). I can understand why he’s started heading in a different direction, nobody needed to give Keitaro a sword. Before this character shift, I was concerned for the integrity of that inevitable climactic moment when Jil comes face to face with Druaga, gulps, leans in gently, blushes, and stabs him in the face.

It was nice to see a well deployed piece of parody, frankly I wouldn’t have bothered with the show had it not been for the buzz about episode 1. But I’m still unsure whether it has any lasting purpose. I kind of hope that the rest of the show will prove to be a blown up version of ep1 - pretending to be sincere for a minute or two before going oddball. If that’s the case, as the OP might suggest, then all power to team Druaga. Otherwise that opening feels unnecessary, because it isn’t simply humorous, it’s satirical - and so rather out of touch with the following action.

If I have a preference it’s for shows to be a only slightly self-aware. It’s one thing to have a laugh by taking on the generic a tad cock-eyed, but a thorough demolition of genre as seen in Druaga’s ep1 changes my expectations. It makes me expect a similar boldness to run through the rest of the writing, whereas instead we have only the odd laugh. A great opening operating within a generic framework reinforces my faith in the viability of a genre, a wink makes me wonder why the writer is calling attention to their own presence so loudly.

Responses

Have you considered times when a show takes a knowing swipe at shows in another genre? I ask because I recently watched the 16th (I think) episode of s-CRY-ed which makes an extended and rather brutal (though probably truthful) attack on harem anime, and you post brought it to mind.

Not familiar with s-CRY-ed. I’d normally think that having a pop at another genre was a sign of the writer just having fun. I guess it depends how “brutal” they are though - it could be just as self-assertive as self-directed parody. Any obvious awareness of any genre has some impact, since it’s a kind of direct writer-to-audience communication about the medium.

I think that hitting out at your own genre is inevitably a statement of intent, whereas outwardly directed parody can both act like that and not act like that, depending on the delivery. Perhaps attacking another set of conventions is a better (or at least less tricky) way to justify your own position than laying out what you dislike about your own genre?

Interesting take on the first episode. I kind of have a different take. Mostly that the first episode of Druaga was actually an introduction to the main character. Essentially it set up this distinction between what he wanted to be and what he really was. Now it definitely takes pot shots at the conventions of the genre. But… I think that’s as much to explain Jin’s character as to wink at the audience.

I haven’t watched Haruhi yet. So I don’t really have an opinion on that part.

Good point. The intro definitely gave Jil a distinct and sympathetic identity. But I still find the episode quite jarringly distinct from the rest of the show in tone and in originality. I thought Jils’ character was shown equally precisely in his party-gathering attempt in ep.2, without any need for explicit nods at plot conventions or clichés.

My reaction might be slightly prejudiced by a personal taste for a kind of solid dramatic integrity within a series. Whenever there’s an apparent deviation I’m quick to assume that the writer is trying to catch my eye, rather than simply adopting a different form for dramatic purposes.

[...] The devil made me do it, I swear! Posted in Uncategorized by coburn on the May 2, 2008 Words were said, words were wrong. Father! I will do it! I will admit my wrongness! [...]

[...] (Amatsuki and InK, being the other two.) It doesn’t have the self-referential charm of Tower of Druaga. It doesn’t have the weird mind games of Real Drive. And it certainly doesn’t have the [...]

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