The various “Urusei Yatsura” media ended from the mid- to late-‘80s, and not all at once. And not due to unpopularity or unprofitability or any of those series-killing notions. Nope, they ended simply because the series was over.
Recall, Rumiko Takahashi created “Urusei Yatsura” as a manga, and brought it to a definite conclusion in 1987 – as definite as any endlessly-perpetuating story without a decisive arc can have. While the TV show had already ended in ‘86 – having dried up the existing manga stories to date – the animation crew reconvened to churn out the theatrical Final Chapter…thus ending the film series as well. With this film doubling as a series finale for the TV show, every facet of “Urusei” enjoyed a thematically whole conclusion, with a story coming full circle by paralleling the first entry.
But demand still existed – this is that sort of crazy, devoted fandom Kazuo Yamazaki railed against so incomprehensibly in Lum the Forever. Hence, in a strange post-franchise purgatory, animation continued, flooding the market with “Urusei Yatsura” OVAs (Original Video Animations). These sated audience interest, and better yet, could turn a pretty profit. Good on Japanese fandom for supporting direct-to-video even in the 1980s! Under the guidance of Satoshi Dezaki, director of The Final Chapter, the “Urusei” OVAs are as follows:
• “Ryoko’s September Tea Party” (1985)
• “Memorial Album” (1986)
• “Inaba the Dreammaker” (1987)
• “Raging Sherbet” (1988)
• “Nagisa’s Fiancé” (1988)
• “The Electric Household Guard” (1989)
• “I Howl at the Moon” (1989)
• “Goat and Cheese” (1989)
• “Catch the Heart” (1990)
• “Date with a Spirit” (1990)
(This ignores a completely atypical outlier, 2008’s “The Obstacle Course Swim Meet.”)
Each of these so-called OVAs received limited theatrical release prior to home purchase (to improve their word-of-mouth, no doubt), making them not genuine OVAs. By many of my franchise definitions, this’d qualify them for series consideration, however…however the Japanese fandom doesn’t consider them official entries, so I’m saved from a week’s worth of mediocre movie watching.
Rather, the one last official theatrical Urusei Yatsura, Part Six, came about in 1991 as a capstone to the OVA “series.” Always My Darling thus invalidates The Final Chapter’s finality, except...except it seems Japanese audiences again have a slightly different conception of how these things work. Though it’s No. 6, and The Final Chapter is No. 5, The Final Chapter is still somehow the final entry. By this they mean it remains, in the Urusei timeline, the last story chronologically, making Always My Darling an awkward, awkward interquel, an original story wedged into a continuity it never previously existed in.
There’s a few problems here: Urusei Yatsura hasn’t enough of a continuous arc (like in the sense of the Star Wars trilogies) for a timeline to even matter. Ataru and Lum, the series’ central couple, are always together, are always seventeen-years-old. It’s like trying to force a later season “Simpsons” episode earlier into the timeline – none of that really matters in such an episodic series. The Final Chapter’s finality has mostly to do that, in our timeline, it was the last! It was thematically conclusive, whatever your opinion of it, causing any attempted follow-up to be a greedy, unwanted addition – by definition.
Always My Darling tries to get around this accusation of pointlessness by a technicality. See, it isn’t a sequel, or whatever, it’s a “ten year anniversary special.” Buh?! (That’s ten years since the show, not the manga.) Now…I’m not sure what a proper cinematic “anniversary special” would look like – the best I can come up with is some damned variety stage show, or something that’d be nowadays relegated to a DVD extra (something the OVAs could surely have accommodated) – but Always My Darling certainly ain’t it. It’s actually just another damned Urusei Yatsura story, with nothing in it of any importance.
This is actually a very generic Urusei effort, the most obviously formulaic of the bunch. Fans often call it the worst of the theatrical series, owing largely to the problems of its very existence. Otherwise, it’s the worst just because it’s thoroughly without zest. It’s boring! We lose the satire of Only You and Remember My Love, or the auteurist lunacy of Beautiful Dreamer or Lum the Forever, and without those grace notes, it’s amazingly only by Part Six, the actual final entry, that the Urusei Yatsura formula becomes inescapable:
It all revolves around a Love Triangle of the Day. Some never-before-heard-of humanoid space alien takes romantic claim of Ataru and/or Lum, forcing a rescue mission. In every instance, resolution comes from finding this newbie alien his/her own lover closer to home, at which point Ataru and Lum can reunite and live happily ever after, until the next photocopied incident of the same.
The specifics of Always My Darling are thus merely fill-in-the-blanks. And here they are.
The meddling interloper: Princess Lupika, Royal Princess of the Universe (this designation serves no purpose).
The target: Ataru, seeing as the villainess is female.
The interloper’s actual, film-ending love interest: Leo, the tofu salesman. Yes, this profession is as arbitrary as it sounds.
And really, that’s it. What other wrinkles My Darling possesses come from Lupika’s motivations, which aren’t simply matrimony to Ataru (it’s already pretty damn hard to credit that a universe’s worth of comely teenaged space-babes would take a liking to that tactless letch). Rather, Lupika seeks a love potion (#9), with which to win over Leo. Actually, she and Leo both already know they’re in love; it’s only Lupika’s royal title which keeps them apart, making the film’s ultimate conclusion stupid and inevitable and obvious.
Now, Ataru alone can obtain this Love Potion, held in the Crystal Jar, guarded by the Universe’s God of Lust, held upon Planet Holy Temple. Yeah. This is because he, Ataru, is the most lustful creature in the universe – “This guy possesses awe-inspiring lust.” This is the lone interesting idea My Darling possesses, a new exaggeration on Ataru’s eternal horniness (which manifested itself in Part One, Only You, as a desire for a harem made of every woman in existence, leaving them with nowhere much to go). Too bad this horny superpower is good only for getting Ataru through a pastiche of Indy-tech traps stolen from Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Last Crusade (that one most blatantly, with the same damn invisible bridge Mr. Jones once crossed).
Then Ataru accidently guzzles the Love Potion, and falls helplessly in love…with Lupika. This, around halfway point, transforms Ataru (the series’ most interesting character) into a mere plot device, a complete imbecile capable of nothing more than rolling around and screaming “Lupiiiiiiiiiiiiika!” in a tone which rivals Jerry Lewis.
The rest of the story, about Lum’s quest to find a love antidote, isn’t even worth recounting.
Director Katsuhisa Yamada (“Gatchaman,” “Marzinger Z,” “Devil Hunter Yohko”) has no apparent interest in the material. This is an issue which has come up before, as the Urusei helmers are often at odds with the satirical intent behind Takahashi’s manga. Mamoru Oshii was in similar straits, for instance, yet he was able to effectively make the series work for him as a personalized canvas. Such a possibility doesn’t exist for Yamada, because there is no apparent intent to move any further with Urusei Yatsura after Always My Darling (“always” indeed!). This is apparently just a one-off, a cash-grab, with no greater relevance to the series as a whole, and no relevance even to its double bill partner, Ranma ½ (another adaptation of a Takahashi manga – yeesh these things are getting incestuous!).
The “Urusei Yatsura” characters were never terribly deep or multi-faceted. This is not a problem. They were founded as arch exaggerations of lechery (Ataru) and devotion (Lum), meant to deconstruct Japanese gender politics in general. Such a premise doesn’t lend itself to eternal franchising, like say the two-dimensional characters of “The Simpsons” – that program can respond endlessly to changing culture. It’s outward looking, while “Urusei Yatsura” is inward looking, with a much more specific target, and thus with a limited lifespan. And it had satisfied that lifespan, with all (or most) creative members moving on to new projects long before Always My Darling got farted out.
No comments:
Post a Comment