Ice Blade
a review by DrFlapJack
a review by DrFlapJack
The year is 1992, and Japan is growing at an alarming rate. Foreigners looking for better business opportunities are rapidly pouring in. And as the population grows, so too do the number of crimes. Drugs, prostitution, assault, the whole shebang. The police are up to their necks in these heinous acts, and tackling them in a timely manner is impossible. Not while they're still hemmed in by protocol and laws, that is. So who better to put away the baddies than a cop who operates like the rules are mere friendly suggestions?
Kyoya Iida is initially introduced as a man who loves nothing and no one, not even himself. A cold, calculating murderer who has no boundaries to what he's willing to do in order to corner his prey. Therefore, a less observant reader might say that Iida has no sympathy for the criminals he chases and no concept of the value of human life. However, reading further in will reveal that he's far more complicated than that. The reason Iida is so effective is how much he understands the minds of murderers and the importance of stopping them in their tracks. He knows the mentality behind why people kill, the cowardice and the hate and the fear, and that someone who has done it once is willing to do it again. He understands better than anyone that if he slows down and does it by the books, more people will suffer. The fact that he knows exactly what goes through their heads means he shows them no mercy because of it. And most importantly, he knows how thin the line is between justice and murder, and he walks it with frightening confidence.
The most striking thing about Iida is how hard his motivations are to pin down. Is he an ally of justice, or a wily devil using justice as an excuse to indulge in his love of killing? This ambiguity is held very firmly and delibrately throughout the manga.
One strong point of Jiraishin is how the author uses the limitations of his artistic ability to his own advantage. Tsutomu Takahashi's artstyle is not very emotive, so the art communicates the emotional state of the characters through creative imagery. Scenes of violence are portrayed with bold slashes of ink against the paper, turning them into sinister waking nightmares.
As a matter of fact, there are several areas where Jiraishin excels in ways that I didn't expect. For instance, it's deceptively insightful on heavy issues. It deals with the nature of animalistic violence in a supposedly civilized society, how it's sensationalized by the media, which encourages it to spread. In a society where information is spread by mass production, evil can be disturbingly memetic. For example, in one specific arc, rather than kill anyone himself, the murderer of the week conspires to manipulate people into doing it for him. It also deals with the difficulty of dealing with the families of criminals and victims. They sometimes take their grief out on the police, or seek revenge on the perpetrator. A lot of officers, Iida included, choose not to marry because they've seen how hard it is for those left behind. When you have a dangerous job like that, might as well make sure to minimize the damage caused by your absence. The difficulty of fighting crime while abiding by strict rules and regulations is explored as well. These restrictions and their effect on efficiency are precisely how Iida gets away with his blatant rule flouting. The big wigs can't prosecute him because he's the only one that can get results in a timely manner. Even with an unstoppable force like Iida, it's pretty clear all through Jiraishin that the Shinjuku police force are fighting a losing battle. Put one crook away, and ten more will take his place. When peoples' lives are in the balance, hesitation could cost more than anyone could pay.
Out of all the stories in Jiraishin, Focus was one of my favorites, and it's also the most thematically interesting, as it sheds some illumination on the narrative as a whole. In a country where war and death are just normal everyday occurrences, it's not particularly shocking. A supposedly civilized, orderly society like Japan is where truly atrocious things take place. People don't kill each other on the streets of Shinjuku out of necessity or desperation, they do it out of hatred and perverse excitement. That's just as, if not more sickening. Disgusting as it is, it's also fascinating in a strange way. The things that people are capable of doing to each other when pushed just a little are more bizarre and frightening than any horror story. And that's precisely what Jiraishin is all about.
The biggest flaw of Jiraishin is the wild swings in quality of the writing between each file. This manga is one of Tsutomu Takahashi's first, and is very amateurish in the beginning as a result. It begins to improve in both writing and artwork very early on, so it's not as bad as it could have been. However, the inconsistency still remains. For every Mother of Crime, there's a Don't Cry to match it. (Don't Cry was appalling). Quite a few of the stories are deeply silly on a fundamental level. You ever seen one of those cop shows where it seems like the main character is involved in every case all at once, and can seemingly show up anywhere at will? It's like that. Even with that in mind, the inconsistency is weirdly fun in its own right. Whether it's intense and badass or stupid as hell, it's always wildly entertaining.
Oh, and uh, one more thing......
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