Anime Impact. Chris Stuckmann

conventional story arc as Satsuki goes into crisis mode and does everything she can to find her missing little sister. She enlists Totoro’s help, and the following journey on the magical Catbus is one of the most joyful scenes in the film.

      Satsuki and Mei’s continuing exploration of the surrounding forest brings together a perfect unity of the natural and the supernatural. The real world with the secondary overlaid spirit world as influenced by traditional Shinto beliefs of Japan. In a visit to the forest, their father introduces them to a magnificent camphor tree rooted next to a forgotten Shinto shrine. The significance of the tree is marked by rice rope and paper wrapped around its enormous trunk to which the family bow and pay their respects. As a protector of the forest, Totoro is equally magnificent and worthy of respect. While we might first be introduced to the “King of the Forest” in a funny and childish way when Mei discovers the soundly sleeping Totoro, his influence over the natural world becomes clear. The midnight scene of Totoro and his companions dancing ritualistically around a patch of acorn seeds in hopes of summoning them to grow is a fantastical and hopeful spectacle.

      My Neighbor Totoro isn’t a film of overcomplicated grandiose but instead a simple “slice-of-life” animation. Satsuki as the eldest sister is thoughtful and wise and Mei as the younger sister is rambunctious and spirited. They are two sides of the same coin and, while their interactions with Totoro and the spirit world are fleeting, they remain better off from the experience. Totoro is the perfect child-friendly reminder of the importance of our relationship to the natural world. This cuddly yet reserved spirit-creature embodies the core values which a lot of Miyazaki-directed Studio Ghibli films explore. My Neighbor Totoro is a delightful animation well cherished by fans all over the world. Magical characters steeped in Japanese folklore enrich a simple story of two sisters growing up in the world.

      Adelle is a movie critic and movie fangirl in equal parts. Currently working in an Australian film production house, you can find more of her thoughts on the latest movie releases and indie cinema you should be watching over on her YouTube channel, Roll Credits, at www.youtube.com/RollCredits.

       1988 • Ronin Warriors

      Yoroiden Samurai Torūpā

      — Chris Stuckmann —

      Middle school years were awkward for many kids, myself included. As an introverted, unpopular loner, I had a handful of acquaintances but no true friends. My day was mostly spent awaiting release from the confines of my school. I appreciated learning, but I just didn’t feel welcome there.

      Strangely, however, when I reflect on middle school, I mostly remember the good times. That’s probably due in part to my activities outside of school, but I particularly remember one interaction with a former classmate who leaned toward me in the middle of class to ask if I was watching Dragon Ball Z. Perhaps the cartoon I was doodling in my notepad caught his attention—I can’t say for sure. I just remember being taken aback that someone just talked to me.

      “No, what’s that?” I asked sheepishly.

      “Oh, man. Just go home and watch it.”

      I did just that. I mean, why wouldn’t I? Someone just talked to me.

      Enter Toonami. Cartoon Network’s weekly afternoon block of anime classics defined a generation. It brought many excellent shows to our shores, including DBZ. “Dende’s Demise” was my first episode, and I was never the same again.

      If memory serves, DBZ started at 5:00 p.m., and two shows preceded it: Sailor Moon and Ronin Warriors. My burgeoning interest in DBZ eventually led to Sailor Moon and Ronin Warriors becoming “must-watches.” Ronin Warriors (known as Yoroiden Samurai Troopers in Japan) ran for thirty-nine episodes and three OVAs. It was in many ways the male-centric counterpart to Sailor Moon, so Toonami’s programmers were very clever to air them back-to-back.

      The plot revolves around five young men who possess mythical suits of armor with devastating powers and abilities. Like most anime of this type, the armor can transform and unite in various ways to obliterate their enemies. (Expect to hear “Flare Up Now!”—the announcement of Ryo of the Wildfire’s powerful attack—often in the English dub.) Opposing these heroes are a group known as The Dynasty and its leader: the demonic Master Talpa, supreme lord of the Underworld. Talpa wants to lay waste to the mortal world, and the Ronin Warriors are all that stand in his way.

      Admittedly, Ronin Warriors isn’t terribly innovative or revolutionary. Most shōnen (relating to young boys) or shōjo (relating to young girls) anime feature intense battles with vile enemies before the hero unleashes their finishing move, annihilating the baddie with a cheeseball declaration of valor. However, Ronin Warriors is unique in that much of the show is about Ryo and his companion Mia searching for Ryo’s fellow Warriors who’ve been imprisoned.

      Speaking of Mia, her character subverts most clichés surrounding female anime characters. She’s smart, often rescuing Ryo with needed information that helps him in battle, and she’s never portrayed as a sex object. On the contrary, she’s always integral to their mission. That’s not just shocking for ’80s shōnen anime: even popular shōjo anime of the time often depicted female characters in overtly sexual ways. I recall transformation sequences of many shōjo anime panning around female bodies from head to toe. Ronin Warriors doesn’t treat Mia like this.

      An avid anime fan might tell you that Ronin Warriors isn’t particularly cutting-edge by any means. I wouldn’t blame them for finding its inclusion in this book a little superfluous. But as this book’s title suggests, I’m writing about Ronin Warriors because of the impact it had on me as a youth. And while DBZ was my gateway anime, Ronin Warriors was the one that cemented my love of the medium.

      As I mentioned in the introduction, Toonami helped spread awareness of Japan’s role in the production of anime. At the time, plenty of kids assumed that Robotech, Star Blazers, or even Sailor Moon were American cartoons. The Americanization of anime was a real problem in the ’90s. In retrospect, I’m grateful many shows made it to our shores, whether they were heavily censored or not. It’s understandable to assume that severe cursing, graphic violence, or nudity wouldn’t be allowed on Cartoon Network, but this wasn’t the underlying issue. Bizarre and often offensive changes were made to many shows—most famously the lesbian relationship on Sailor Moon—and most of the time, it was due to a cultural gap. Foods commonly eaten in Japan were altered to American dishes, cigarettes were replaced or removed, character names were altered, and sometimes entire storylines were cut.

      I bring this up because Ronin Warriors is one of the few shows that didn’t suffer any major changes. Character names were indeed replaced with more western-friendly hero names, but besides that, the show was aired surprisingly intact and with little censorship. While Ronin Warriors certainly wasn’t Toonami’s most successful show, it did retain a large fanbase. Whether the show’s relative popularity helped thwart the typical Americanization these shows usually received remains unclear. What is clear, however, is that Ronin Warriors’s English dub is often cheesy as hell: