{"id":1399,"date":"2009-10-21T19:00:10","date_gmt":"2009-10-21T11:00:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.darkmirage.com\/?p=1399"},"modified":"2009-10-21T15:39:21","modified_gmt":"2009-10-21T07:39:21","slug":"turn-a-gundam","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.darkmirage.com\/2009\/10\/21\/turn-a-gundam\/","title":{"rendered":"Turn A Gundam"},"content":{"rendered":"
I find it infinitely difficult to quantify Turn A Gundam<\/strong><\/a> (\u00e2\u02c6\u20ac Gundam) as a narrative. After watching it on and off over the course of a few years, I finally finished all fifty episodes this week. This is probably the longest I’ve ever taken to finish a show of any length, a dubious record usually held by titles I deemed to be mostly unfit for consumption. And yet having watched most of what the Gundam metaseries has to offer, I have to say in retrospect that, in spite of all its glaring flaws, Turn A Gundam offers a special ineffable something<\/em> that lands the title a spot in my heart.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n It is my personal opinion that Gundam titles directed by Yoshiyuki Tomino<\/a> all have poor storytelling. The themes are insightful, the ideas are grand and the creative visions are commendable, but the delivery is consistently awful as Tomino simply lacks the attention to details needed to synergize all those great concepts into coherent narratives. Every major titles directed by him (79<\/a>, Zeta<\/a>, ZZ<\/a>, the semi-aborted F91<\/a>, Victory<\/a>) suffers from the same half-baked storytelling that overlooks character-level consistency in favour of big-picture ideas.<\/p>\n Comparing his works to the mini series (80<\/a>, 83<\/a>, 08th<\/a>) directed by various other individuals over the same time frame, a clear distinction emerges between the two groups of Gundam titles in terms of storytelling and attentions to plot details such as character motivations.<\/p>\n Characters in Tomino’s works often assume illogical out-of-character positions for no apparent reason beyond creating plot tension, while characters in other works behave within parameters one can empathize with. Underlying themes in Tomino’s works tend to be more visionary and abstract while the shorter works focus on the wartime human condition within limited contexts. Turn A Gundam is, as I see it, an attempt by Tomino to combine these two distinct aspects of the franchise. I won’t say that he succeeded completely, but I do like the final result.<\/p>\n The series describes an Earth that has recovered from a past global catastrophe and has a thriving industrial human population that is technologically equivalent to the turn of the 20th century. A highly advanced human civilization exists on the Earth’s moon, descendants of past refugees from a devastated Earth. Loran Cehack<\/strong>, the protagonist, is a member of an advance team sent to Earth to live among the local population in preparation for the moonrace’s return to their ancestral home.<\/p>\n As anyone with a slight irking of history, politics or economics can immediately gather, the sudden immigration of a large number of foreign strangers attempting to lay historical claim to your land can only lead to tensions and conflicts over resources, particularly if they are heavily armed and more advanced than you. (Doesn’t this sound familiar<\/a>?)<\/p>\n The first quarter of Turn A is largely dedicated to exploring how in a climate of mutual distrust and asymmetric bargaining power, two sides can be driven by circumstances into a state of war in spite of the peaceful intentions of their respective leaderships. While I can’t say that this portion of the series is well written (character interactions and political powerplays all suffer from the usual Tomino effect), the premise itself is refreshing enough to keep things alive most of the time.<\/p>\n The shining point of the series comes somewhere in the second quarter with the development of Queen Dianna Soreil<\/strong> as a character, along with character interactions between Loran Cehack<\/strong>, Kihel Heim<\/strong> and Sochie Heim<\/strong>.<\/p>\n The desire of the queen of the moonrace for her people to return to Earth peacefully drives her character to lead with honour, and yet she is often powerless to stop the conflict’s expansion. Loran, a loyal moonrace who believes in the queen’s message of peace, nevertheless finds himself piloting a mobile suit and fighting against his own people on behalf of the local militia. His desire for the moonrace to return to Earth becomes anathema to his attachment to the Heim family who took him in when he first came to Earth.<\/p>\n There’s quite a fair bit of good material in there involving the four aforementioned characters and the second quarter of the series does a competent job covering it, if one overlooks the usual flaws. Interactions on a personal level between these characters generally make sense and produce the intended effects, if somewhat hampered by the poor directing and screenplay. I consider this to be the highlight of the series.<\/p>\n However, all that is cast aside for most of the second half of the series where the story takes seemingly random detours that neglect and weaken the interesting character dynamics developed in the first half. This is so particularly in the last quarter where the story steadily descends into increasingly abstract discussions of war and free will, cumulating in a beautifully-animated mecha duel that somehow manages to be both symbolic (as a metaphor for the abstract concepts relating to war and human nature) and meaningless (in its relevance to the story leading up to that point) at the same time.<\/p>\n Towards the end, it becomes kind of hard to tell what all the major players are fighting for beyond some vague ideas of honour and hope, a stark contrast to the goal-driven political and physical conflicts depicted at the start of the series. Several illogical choices made by some of the characters also serve to undermine motivations developed previously over the course of the series. At times, it seems like things happen more or less for the lulz, or in this case dramatic effect.<\/p>\n As a result, I consider the last quarter of the series to be one of the weaker parts of the story. It’s a good thing that Turn A decides to hastily revive the neglected relationships established earlier in the story for a Hail Mary emotional ending backed by the poignant vocals of Aki Okui<\/a>, or it would’ve ended on a weak note without a timely reminder of the things it did right.<\/p>\n All in all, I can’t say that Turn A Gundam improved significantly in terms of storytelling from Gundam titles predating it. For a show made in the post-Eva era and coming from a production team that was by then highly experienced after two decades of Gundam, it falls short on many counts.<\/p>\n Still, it manages to present an entertaining and at times touching viewing experience which I found much superior to Tomino’s older works. (Here comes the flame.) A purge of unnecessary plot detours, a more sensible screenplay and a better ending would’ve probably landed it a spot in my top five. As it stands however, Turn A Gundam is a show I found enjoyable and intriguing, but not one I can recommend to everyone.<\/p>\n On a side note, it is unfortunate that Sunrise chose to employ some unconventional mechanical designs for this series. If it had used regular Gundam designs, or if it had not marketed the show as a Gundam title, Turn A would’ve been saved from a lot of unfair expectations and undue criticisms.<\/p>\n Also, Queen Dianna was totally the prototype for Lacus Clyne.<\/p>\n And now it’s time for me to return to hibernation.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" OMG it’s three dee I find it infinitely difficult to quantify Turn A Gundam (\u00e2\u02c6\u20ac Gundam) as a narrative. After watching it on and off over the course of a few years, I finally finished all fifty episodes this week. … Continue reading