THAT Animeblog

Game-Based Anime: Hit or Miss?

It is not often that a game-based anime embraces its inner game, and for good reason. Many are visibly forced attempts to fashion a second-rate story into a compelling screenplay, which sometimes works, but often not, especially if the director is not allowed enough creative license. Faithful adherents to a game’s original story, premise, characters and whatnot usually become lackluster creations because they are chained to material that has little viewing potential without a facelift and some serious restructuring.

Or, supposing that the the story is worthwhile and each of the characters boasts a sufficient ‘cool factor’, the animators will be so fixated on bringing the game to life that they forget to make the anime interesting, as if simply being able to have your favorite characters hurl fireballs and blow shit up on screen can excuse a lack of cinematographic substance (2-D fighters are notorious for this!)

Diehard fans may collapse into orgasmic satisfaction, but average viewers beware—just because a game title is popular does not necessarily mean that it will carry its success over to the silver screen. The best adaptations are usually the ones that either have a wealth of material at their disposal or those like Utawarerumono, which stray so far from their origins that you might not ever guess that they started out as eroge strategy RPGs or bishoujo dating sims. The point here is simple: production companies tend to churn out substandard shows when they are bound helplessly to the same old, cheesy material.

Aegis of Uruk eats this rule for lunch. (Warning: Mild spoilers ahead.)

Enter the Druaga: Premise, Characters, etc.

The Tower of Druaga: Aegis of Uruk may be the first videogame-based anime to throw caution to the wind, meet the beast head-on, and emerge victorious. Since it had absolutely no hope of escaping the original Tower of Druaga storyline, the big secret behind Aegis of Uruk’s success is that not only does it not pretend to be anything other than a stone’s fling away from classic arcade RPG with a mediocre plot, it acknowledges the fact and even flaunts it at times, as if Director Koichi Chigira had said to himself, “it is what it is, now what can we do with it?”

Sequel to the original The Tower of Druaga, Aegis of Uruk takes place sixty years after Gilgamesh (back then known as ‘Gil’) singlehandedly climbed the first Tower of Druaga and vanquished the giant monster. King Gilgamesh now rules the land of Uruk, which is just about to wage its third campaign against a new Tower and a resurrected Druaga. The Uruk Army times its campaigns to coincide with the Summer of Anu, a recurring event during which the deity Anu weakens the strength and number of the Tower’s monsters for a short period of time, thereby creating a perfect opportunity for Climbers to test their might.

The story begins at a ‘last stop’ city-stronghold on the first floor of the Tower called Metz Kier. Jil is an aspiring Guardian-class Climber who dreams of defeating Druaga and claiming its treasure, the famed Blue Crystal Rod. He is half-sibling to Neeba, an experienced Climber known by many as “The Dragonslayer” who possesses a endless knowledge about Gilgamesh, the Tower and the Blue Crystal Rod. Jil starts out in Neeba’s party only to get kicked out for his incompetence as a Guardian. He then forms his own Climber team consisting of a mysterious healer-mage named Kaaya, ex-soldier Ahmey, and the bankrupt aristocrat Melt (an offensive mage) and his inhumanly strong, purple-haired maidservant, Coopa. Jil is a naive, unintelligent idealist with a pure heart and incredible physical resilience, who fights tirelessly for his convictions throughout the series.

Indeed, this may seem to be the makings of another garden-variety RPG party. But viewers expecting another pedestrian fantasy adventure, prepare to be pleasantly surprised by a kaleidoscopic interpretation of a shamelessly banal story, rife with satirical 8-bit throwbacks, sepia-toned flashbacks, parody, comedy and enough emotional flavor to keep you second-guessing until its shocking conclusion. Yes, weaknesses abound — amateurishly interpolated CG sequences, painful gaps in animation quality and haphazard episode arrangement. But despite its rampant foibles; Aegis of Uruk is an impressive and utterly unique showcase of directing talent, the likes of which could render a trip to the grocery mart an unforgettable adventure. For that reason, if nothing else, this is a series that deserves not to be skipped over. Let us take a look at both sides of the story.

Computer Graphics: Digital Zweihänder

We have entered a new age of Japanese animation where the keyboard has fused inextricably with the hand. With computer graphics as no longer the exception, but the iron rule of modern animation, purists that frown on CG (such as myself) have no comfortable little niche to escape to, and no choice but to evolve with the changing times or go extinct. But does this imply we must welcome assaults of tasteless of digital imagery with open arms?

I think not. The purpose of computer graphics is to reinforce the animation quality, not to replace it. Masterful computer graphics will suffuse into the palette gently and silently, sometimes by means of digitally aligned, hand-drawn panels, and other times by means of meticulously arranged colors and textures. Apparently, someone forgot to remind the good folks at Gonzo of these aesthetic sensibilities.

The animation quality in Aegis of Uruk is irritatingly inconsistent, a weakness that would not be so apparent had it been composed uniformly of terrible artistic choices. Overextending the production budget makes for disappointing fallbacks, as is the case when majestic, digitally-rendered shots of the Uruk army are hastily abandoned for closeups of character’s faces while the legion’s collective step forward is boiled down to a mere, deafening stomp, or when breathtaking panoramas and stunningly fluid combat sequences arrive at the expense of the less action-packed parts, forcing the production team to rely on gimmicks like panning their stills for wide angle effect and shaking the cels to mimic an earthquake during the end of the Summer of Anu. Gonzo should go bury those relics along with the rest of the 90s.

Aegis of Uruk’s story may not try concealing, or superseding its beginnings as an arcade game, but hardly the same can be said for its limited budget. Instead, it uses every possible chance to spruce up the action scenes and conveniently ignores the boring spots that it assumes ought not require a great deal of attention, as if we cannot tell they are cutting corners. Please. And although CG is reserved for maximum dramatic effect, the instances it plays its digital trump card are about as subtle as swinging a sledgehammer. Nothing ruins twelve episodes of anticipating a monstrous final battle than a clunky, CG Druaga who flails and roars with less visual consonance than the old-school King Kong.

I had to get that out of my system.

The Fantasy, Mother of All Stories and Paradox Unto Itself: A Macrocosmic Perspective

Be it live action, animated or digitally-designed, the thing that I appreciate the most about a fantasy is the story. Fantasies lie at the crux of all storytelling genres because they do not rely on the emotional peaks and valleys of love dramas, the suspense of mysteries, or the unstoppable machismo of action heroes, even though they may contain any or all of these. Central to a fantasy, rather, is the vastness of the world and its endless possibilities. The iron walls of reality are momentarily ripped asunder and what remains is wide-open space in which anything can happen and wonder can thrive.

Fantasy RPGs depend on enkindling this feeling of endless possibility; an RPG without time and space for aimless exploration is often denounced as linear and inflexible, unless it centers on an incredible story like, for instance, Xenogears. And why not? Charming little sidequests are the bread and butter of a good RPG, and ought to be expected of a game that demands at least 40 hours of your life for completion (30 of which are spent fighting random encounters, over and over and over…!)

A twelve episode anime enjoys no such luxury, less it risk cascading into another meandering flakeout. A fantasy adaptation like Aegis of Uruk must lean even more heavily into unifying fantasy/adventure world characteristics to produce an airtight story. For instance, a dominant ideology—Metz Kier is a fictional stronghold situated on the bottommost floor of a magical Tower full of monsters, magic and untold treasures, so its entire culture revolves around climbing the Tower and trying to best legendary evil monster Druaga just as King Gilgamesh had done in his youth. Hundreds try, hundreds die, and the process repeats itself ad nauseum. In fact, the entire Kingdom of Uruk seems preoccupied with the Blue Crystal Rod.

Nevermind how the Tower got there, or what cities lie outside of the kingdom of Uruk; other than mavericks like Jil’s half-brother Neeba and evil mage Pazuz (whose purposes for climbing the Tower remain unknown until the final episode), no one else really questions their obsession with defeating Druaga. Meskia is full up to the brim with Climber guilds and smithys, day after day mingling, cooking up schemes to snag the Tower’s treasures, and waiting patiently, greedily, for the Summer of Anu to arrive every few years. The kingdom of Uruk’s people care about nothing else. And our heroes are no exception — though each of their reasons may be different, Jil and his comrades are striving for the same goal.

So from the very beginning, Aegis of Uruk has an ultimate objective (climb tower, kill monster, take treasure) that frees up a few episodes to stray off of the beaten path. This is one way a short fantasy anime creates the illusion of expanse — it keeps the final destination clearly in sight, and takes you on whatever winding path it feels like using to get there. The main goal is finding an interesting way to close the distance between Point A and Point B, which Aegis of Uruk does an excellent job of for the first half of the series.

Tower of Legend: A Microcosmic Perspective

After Jil is kicked out of Neeba’s party for his failure to provide adequate Guardianship, his hunt for a new Climber party is used as an excuse (for the viewer) to tour of Metz Kier, letting its sights and sounds sink in while briefly acknowledging Aegis of Uruk’s complex web of character ties. Uruk is a very interesting kingdom — it appears that the sole purpose of its massive military is to war against the monsters in the Tower, rather than against another human army. Moreover, each floor of the Tower (called a ‘Shrine’) has its own unique and entertaining characteristics, as Jil and his friends will discover once they embark on their journey. There is clearly much to be explored here.

Unfortunately, any amorphous fantasy or epic adventure story is fated to solidify more and more into a definite shape with each subsequent episode. This is my least favorite characteristic of fantasy anime — that the sense of endless possibility erodes as time passes and things begins to take a more serious tone. It is painfully obvious in a short anime like the Aegis of Uruk. The second half is all business, practically hurling our heroes past the remaining floors to the top of the Tower. You could nearly forget that a short while ago, the party was trying to make it through Ziusudra’s funhouse Shrine, transforming into animals, 8-bit characters, switching genders and putting on an impromptu variety show just to get a chuckle from a talking exit door voiced by the booming Norio Wakamoto (Emperor Charles in Code Geass; Alexander Anderson in Hellsing Ultimate; many, MANY other roles.)

The emotional effect of this is that the viewer is thrust without warning into a roiling cauldron of angst, sentiment and desire. All at once (in no particular order): Jil confesses the truth behind his father’s past that motivated him to become a Guardian; Jil and Neeba have their most explosive confrontation immediately after he saves Neeba’s life, the mysterious blue-haired lady that had been following Neeba throughout the series reveals to Jil that he will be betrayed; TWO important characters die; Pazuz finally uncovers his nefarious plot only to be murdered minutes later. The Summer of Anu’s end is accompanied by thickly clustered relationship drama, fatal confrontations and secrets revealed. Grainy flashbacks and sub-plot hints are cast aside until the ending can deliver its shocking, punishing blow to Aegis of Uruk’s outwardly straightforward story.

While it arrives at its final destination on schedule, it all happens a bit too fast for Uruk to make a convincing impression as a fantasy world. Aegis of Uruk leaves behind so many loose ends (like the plot to assassinate King Gilgamesh at the beginning of the series) that could have been explored, it is a shame that the series was not two or even three times as long. An anime studio must do the best it can with the time it has available, and Gonzo did its best to explore a wide spectrum of dramatis personae. Yet though it may not be possible to replace all the flavor a sprawling fantasy RPG promises, nor to avoid tainting that exquisite feeling of possibility, a series that skips past the asides unwittingly sacrifices its most enriching moments.

Directing, Sound Score, Omake, All The Rest: The Icing On The Babylim Sea Slug Cake

Without question, fantastic directing is Aegis of Uruk’s secret ingredient. This is proof that the manner in which a story is told is just as important as the story itself. Just watch the ‘Inner’ version of the first episode, a sidesplitting parody, two parts Monty Python’s The Holy Grail, one part tentacles, and one part Gurren Lagann satire. Or consider Episode 8, where shady, shady Kaaya suddenly collapses from the feigned Addayu Enke Emezia Fever (a name she can never reproduce verbatim) to trick the party into stopping at the original Tower, which has been preserved as a live dungeon RPG in the new Tower, complete with stone arcade tokens and a screen on the outside that can be used to manipulate the indweller’s movements. Let us also not forget the magical traps of Epidode 5, changing both Jil’s and Neeba’s climbing parties into furries, the opposite sex, Slimes, Coopa clones and 8-bit characters as they “struggle” across the “fearsome” shortcut.

These zany extras are balanced out by profoundly emotional moments. There are times that the Aegis of Uruk sincerely breathes and moves like a fantasy, especially when the plot pauses during the last two episodes to probe the characters’ innermost feelings and to ponder the impossible odds that lay ahead, all beneath the delicate caress of a orchestral arrangement. To the Aegis of Uruk’s advantage, as well, is its tightly woven grid of preexisting character relationships, which it draws on anytime the journey alone is not enough to keep things engaging. Most memorable are the the atypical characters pairings that convene after a floor collapses and the scattered Climbers are forced to regroup in Episode 9, hinting at pages and pages of untold backstory.

Oh, and did I mention that Swinging is, like, the BEST OP EVER?

In A Nutshell

One of a kind, The Tower of Druaga: the Aegis of Uruk presents itself as a confusing whirlwind of possibilities until it looks at the clock and scrambles to wrap things up. It is lacking in visual prowess and plot depth, but compensates for these shortcomings with dramatical variety, intricate backstory and a kickass cliffhanger ending. This is an anime that never lingers too long in one mood or feel, even though it manages to plunge rather deeply into each of the different dramatic elements it chooses to explore. Same goes for the music and the visuals. I am anxious to see how it all turns out in the Sword of Uruk. Marathon it in your spare time for a very interesting view!