| Later, buddy. I finished watching a certain anime series today. It is entitled Gurren Lagann. You may have heard of it. Short verdict: I enjoyed it. Likely won't see it again, but I enjoyed it. It reminded me of the ludicrous one-upmanship of Dragonball Z, but with robots, and in 26 episodes instead of 26,000. For me the real show began at the time skip after the clip show. Plot-quality took a dramatic spike upwards at that point. I drilled through the last 22 episodes of it today. It was particularly interesting since I recently finished Soul Eater and noticed enough similarities to reflect upon. One was the overall theme of "evolution vs. status quo" -- both series have it, but in Soul Eater, the ones pushing for the chaotic movement of evolution are the bad guys. The other was the character of Black Star in Soul Eater, an annoying energetic braggart of a fighter. Gurren Lagann's Kamina reminded me of him. But if they were the same archetype, why did I hate Black Star so much yet not hate Kamina? I was confused. The rest of this little essay, an examination of Kamina, came from that confusion. Before I sat down and watched Gurren Lagann, I had two years of 4chan trying to convince me that it was the greatest thing in the universe, that Kamina was the pinnacle of anime manliness (not true), that drills are the best of all weapons, et cetera. I assumed that it was due to Gainax being particularly over the top in its ability to translate "AWESOME" into animation, and that fans' adoration was similar to that of FLCL or Evangelion. I also assumed that, for many fans, Gurren Lagann was sort of an anti-Evangelion. Whereas the former overflows with characters who spin madly forth into tomorrow, the latter's characters are notorious for thinking and suffering about the past. The latter's titular mechas use sized-up conventional weapons and fight (mostly) on land, whereas the former's titular mecha uses pure willpower manifested as drills and eventually ascends to a state where it can hurl whole galaxies around. The characters centered more around action and less around anguish, for better or worse. Surely, I thought, that alone must account for a huge majority of its fandom acclaim. I did not quite anticipate the infectuous nature of the show or of the character of Kamina as possible draws in themselves. This was a mistake. Kamina, one of the leading characters, is a brash, relentless meteor of fighting spirit, and as such he is annoying as hell when his character type appears in any other series, Soul Eater among them. However, he is cast as "the hero" -- the bursting fountain of inspiration for an oppressed human race. Humanity sees and hears of his exploits and follows instinctively in the metaphorical tunnel that his drill bores through the world. Being caught up in its own entertainment is a hallmark of nerddom. And when a form of its entertainment has as a major character an unabashedly ignorant and plow-ahead hero loved by all who know of him, the effect of his presence in the fiction is mirrored in reality. Fans would love him as a hero more than usual because he is loved as a hero in the show. But while Kamina is "the hero," he is not simultaneously "the savior," a distinct role which inspires less yet gets more done than "the hero." (Most saviors are also heroes, so the terms are often used interchangeably, but not in this essay.) Gurren Lagann's savior is Kamina's young blood-brother Simon, who grows up to also take the role of hero. Why, then, is there so much fan-love for Kamina but less immediately vocal adoration for Simon? It's because of a subversion of usual character roles. Kamina does not, in a sense, belong in the hero's spot. He has the stamp of "supporting character" in everything he does. His volcanic energy and the unstoppable optimism he has in himself and others would ordinarily relegate him to the role of the hero/savior's loudmouthed friend, rival, or friendly rival who would try to beat anyone in a fight and fail at least half of the time. But since the show is about advancement and evolution versus retreat and status quo, Kamina fits the theme perfectly, and thus cannot be left alone as part of the B-squad. He is immediately "the hero" and remains as such even after he dies. But with his death coming in the way it does, he cannot act as "the savior." With the force of his personality matching the show's overarching themes, yet with the role of savior destined for his little buddy, Kamina is in a unique characterization coordinate. His hotblooded drive puts him in a spot of traditionally-low importance, yet the structure of the plot demands that he not idle there. He does not develop into an occasionally useful comic-relief team member but starts out as a blazing figure to match Simon's importance to the story. Not a supporting character, but a character who supports. He transcends his own archetype, piercing the heavens, so to speak. My hypothesis is that that is why so many fans love him, but whatever the reason, the most strident of his fans have their religious comparison wrong. Kamina isn't Jesus, he's John the Baptist, the crazy motherfucker who did what he damn well pleased and who taught the young savior everything he needed to know. |