|
So Where Were We?
|
Late into High School DxD BorN, a heroine, abandoned by a master who couldn't care less, finds pathetic solace in vacuum cleaning a house while awaiting word that she may come back home. In earlier episodes, we observe that she is quite capable of flight and lasers, yet none of these matter to her until she is forgiven for her wrongs. When her master comes calling, she gets not a welcome, but a warning; the people in the house, the ones who truly care for her, are in terrible danger.
Taken at face value, as an adaptation based on Ichiei Ishibumi's light novel series, the third season of High School DxD is an incoherent mess. Cameos aimed at the legion of readers (Look, there's Sairaorg! And OMG Shalba!) are blips trying to gnaw at my attention, the villains are just flies waiting to be torpedoed, and Tetsuya Yanagisawa thinks rattling frames to epileptic effect is how you direct action sequences. But taken as an allegory about alienation, repression, reconciliation and empowerment, High School DxD BorN, like its predecessors, is pulp anime with a soul, perceived primarily for its fanservice-loaded exterior when its insides linger of art, ambiguous and absorbing. It is also the most bittersweet and most menacing of the franchise, chock full to the brink with monsters ugly to beautiful, none more self-defining than a behemoth whose body grows too large, too alive for its armor to properly enclose it. BorN is, similarly, a bizarre aberration of storytelling, amassing familiar narrative elements but refusing to gel smoothly with any of them. Its ending refreshingly anticlimactic, BorN takes its chances by dabbling its heroes into their endgame, if not to prevent it, then at least to delay it for a little while longer.
Self-identity has always given the DxD trilogy its vital dramatic core; it's what Ishibumi's novels hold greatest appeal to me, this constant search by its heroes to find their purpose and place as the freaks and geeks of the supernatural realm. In the original High School DxD, Issei Hyodou had to come to terms with his devil/dragon rebirth before he could save Asia and Rias from becoming objects of conquest (the former to sacrifice, the latter to marriage). In High School DxD NEW, Asia, Zenovia and Irina ultimately found forgiveness and friendship in spite of the terrible secrets which brought to question their faith in God. And so it is in High School DxD BorN that Rias Gremory, Issei and the Occult Research Club face the onset of the apocalypse (Ragnarok as referred here) and prevent its fruition by essentially trying not to be the cause of it!
We are introduced to this reality the moment the dragon Tannim busts Koneko wide open. It turns out to be just a training session, as Tannim reveals that he's been holding his strength back all along, but Koneko never blames him because she is guilty of holding back herself. Or consider when Akeno, unable to reconcile with her father, throws herself at Issei's bedside and risks reducing our main hero into an outlet for her Elektra complex. Each of the ORC's members finds all kinds of ways to express their purpose, to prove they can rise above the specters of discrimination or loneliness, and carve a little place for themselves. Note when Irina shows off a new pair of wings after being warned of her vulnerability during battle, or when Zenovia continues to resolve God's absence in her world by trying to beget the strongest child possible with Issei.
And then of course, there are Issei and Rias. Fans will complain that BorN's closing episodes focus strictly on its top two characters, leaving the rest to rarely find time to bare their breasts. But even more controversially, the third season nearly becomes the franchise's iconoclast by adding further wrinkles to the personalities of Issei and Rias, going so far as to even punish them when their rage and desires (the latter directed to each other) put the lives of everybody else in jeopardy. If this deviates significantly from Ishibumi's novels, then Ishibumi deserves some share of the blame, because he sets up Issei and Rias as these emotional pillars from which Asia, Akeno, Yuuto and the rest deeply look up to, yet he finds little opportunity to mine the weaknesses possible from such a relationship. Still, knowing Ishibumi has a say in Takao Yoshioka's script suggests the author, better late than never, is a much more careful and smarter revisionist than his fellow light novelists (or that Star Wars guy), because he knows this series is about these gods among us whose Mt. Olympus (and most genuine sanctuary) is their high school. Issei becomes vengeance incarnate when he believes a past failure has repeated itself, and needs to be reminded that the angel on his shoulder is at risk of falling victim at his hands. Meanwhile, Rias reveals pangs of jealousy and exhaustion as her responsibilities and leadership weigh heavily on her shoulders, and threatens Issei not by choosing subjugation (as in the first season) but rather assimilation, the details of which I can not give away. Suffice to say that Rias has grown bored of the foreplay and wants her virginity dealt with (the Gremory family's encouragement of monogamy early on only worsens the problem). I like how of all these conflicting emotions come with exploding roofs, fiery transformations and a wellspring of angry tears, and I like how, even when it's addressed that Rias and Issei are being influenced by a malevolent power, that the presence of said power wouldn't have made much of a difference.
DxD BorN's most obvious weaknesses are baldy admitted here; of the multitude of villains, not a one is worthy of a final confrontation. Loki, the best villain by virtue of earning more screen time than anyone else, spends most of his minutes spouting Ragnarok than really lifting his fists. Other villains get blown away to dust just when they reach what's-his-name status, at least for DxD's non-readers (though some care and attention are given to the designs; witness how a slant-eyed fellow betrays his face through his glare). Their motivations range from peace-hating to women-hating; at least hate is a compelling thing for our heroes to fight. The animation suffers in turn too; the action sequences don't provide any back and forth coordination, though this hardly matters with the heroes being focused as their own worst enemies. Then again, the DxD series never seriously cares much for its villains; Reynare is killed after the first five episodes, and the most compelling antagonist in NEW appears only during the OVA, when he transforms into the world's largest lingerie set (I am not kidding, I swear).
Faring better because his villainy functions without oppression or wealth, Vali makes a decent impression on us for protecting Issei, if only to ensure the latter's ass-whipping belongs to him and him alone. His sexuality here also underlines his own identity as an outcast; constantly flanked by the handsome Arthur and Bikou, Vali seems one man short of classic mythology's Village People. His teammate Kuroka, who will go down as the most under-exposed female in DxD's history (at least until home video exclusives come out), is an outcast entirely of her fault. Her advances to both Vali and Issei prove fruitless because one confides himself with powerful, battle-ready men and the other with bright, respectful women, including the little sister she left behind. She is a whore without a country.
The High School DxD trilogy represents an accomplished feat for a team of animators and a novelist who see the wonder and joy, the darkness and hope inherent in its legion of heroes. Find in each season a group of friends capable of being one another's salvation and ruin, and see why Issei, Rias and their teammates can embed in us a mystique, a warmth, that can be as immortal as they are.
|
.
