Putting words to that vague idea and (likely) wild claim that Hyouka might the best-directed TV anime of all time.
In which the practice of taking copious numbers of screenshots justifies itself.
We forge ahead with our series on RWBY this week, following up on last week’s piece about the show’s evolving writing by talking about how its visuals have grown up over the years. Honestly, I might have bitten off a bit more than I should have with trying to cover a topic as general as “visuals” in a single post, but I think I’ve managed to highlight the show’s evolution in this area pretty well nonetheless.
Everyone thinks Gundam Reconguista in G is a joke of a show. I thought G-reco was a joke of a show. We might all still be right, but for 14 seconds the joke was on us. This moment, a strange oasis of peace in the middle of running war, is mesmerizing.
I wish more anime were directed like these two productions.
Hello, hello! Let’s talk about murder! Or, more specifically, how murder looks (in 91 Days). I’ve been wanting to write something about 91 Days‘ visuals for a while now, but despite some attempts at cinematographic motifs, the show never quite gave me a concrete visual paradigm to explore. But, somehow, I came up with this kind of topical approach, and while I think it could use some refining in the future, I also think it’s pretty good!
Tongue-in-cheek title aside (I seem to wind up with a lot of those for these columns, not sure why), this probably ranks up there with the more ambitious posts in terms of attempted idea communication that I’ve done for Crunchyroll. It’s also potentially one of the most flawed (depending on what you think of some of the underlying assumptions I made in writing it), but haven’t I always said that flawed anime can be interesting? I hope this post is, as well.
I don’t know how many of you guys are watching Kiznaiver (mostly because I’ve been very poor at writing up those weekly posts this season due to the volume of stuff I’m watching), but episode 7 was really, really good. Good enough to motivate me to devote an entire post to detail how it, and the rest of the show, uses visuals to communicate beyond what the writing says.
An analysis of ERASED‘s first three episode and the incorporation of cinematography into the functioning of the show.
Before I launch into this post, I want to direct readers to something I wrote over on Tumblr last night, an abbreviated essay called “Blood Blockade Battlefront: Style vs Substance(?) and Cinematic Language.” This essay lays out the theoretical framework this post will be operating out of—simply, that visual language is a valid semiotic code  capable of expressing meaning, just as more traditional methods are. So, the point of today’s post is to essentially lay out an example of how this is true, breaking down the way director Rie Matsumoto and her team have constructed a cinematic code that conveys information, themes, and ideas to the audience through the images on the screen.