Since my analysis of Ai oboete imasu ka has turned out to be too long, here I will continue with its second part, which will be published under the wing of Flash Back 2012, which is still relevant to the discussion and which fits perfectly with the film, since it represents its afterword.

We have seen the importance of Minmay's character outside the story of Macross; on the other hand, we have already tasted a taste of her absolute centrality in the film in the previous section. It is my intention, now, to dig a little deeper and see what lies at the bottom of the well, enveloping myself in this character so dear to me. More than ever, she is the absolute protagonist in this case: a final battle that sees and paints her as the protagonist, in which she rises to the last hope of all humanity as well as its protector. In the end, thanks to her revealing and resolving song, the war will be won: the Zentradi patriarch will be killed by Hikaru's incursion while the remaining Zentradi will remake the concept of culture, emerging from the century-old cycle of wars, conflicts and internal struggles with the Meltlandi, their female counterparts. At this point, however, we must ask ourselves: all's well that ends well? Everything resolved without any consequences? Or are there legacies in the souls of the characters at the end of the great intergalactic war? Or put another way: what was, if there was, the price that, in particular, Minmay had to pay for having made the human race win the war? Because yes, she made people remember, through her sweet singing, the love to an alien warrior race that had known nothing but war, but in concrete terms what was the price she had to pay for this at the end of the conflict? It is soon said: Minmay comes out of it literally in pieces, with broken bones. She did succeed in the enterprise of making the Zentradi regain the concept of culture lato sensu and to lead the humans to the final triumph but, in essence, by sacrificing herself. A spiritual sacrifice, I would dare say; a real immolation. First of all, her soul is torn and in tatters following the bitter disappointment in love resulting from the loss of her beloved: when she hugs Hikaru again after his return, together with Misa, on the Macross, she already understands that there is something different in him. So much so that the sequence immediately following is that of her confession: at his lodgings Minmay reveals that she loves him deeply, almost as if to obtain from the boy a confirmation or denial of her previous premonition. Shortly after, Misa bursts in, holding the deciphered text of the plate found in the sunken Atlantis: in this heartbreaking moment, the starlet understands that there is no longer any room for her in the heart of the boy, already aware of loving his rival in love. Faced with the extreme cruelty of love, the girl runs away, in tears. But, as they say, to add insult to injury, Hikaru and Misa know that the only one capable of singing that song is Minmay; they know that if she doesn't sing, there will be no hope for them. And so Hikaru takes on the onerous task of convincing her to do, apparently, the impossible: convincing her to interpret the lyrics of that song, translated and deciphered by none other than Misa, the woman who had just stolen the man she loved from her. And here comes another of the most heartbreaking, emotional and significant sequences of the entire film: the one that I now call the slap scene: Minmay in her heart probably still hoped that Hikaru would change his mind, choosing to stay by her side. But, once again, the reality that will present itself before her will be very cruel and blunt: the boy has reached her not to be with her but to give her the lyrics of the song, in an attempt to convince her to perform. It seems absurd to the girl: how could he even ask her something like that after having just rejected her? How could he ask her to give voice to that piece of paper that, as she says, “that woman” worked on? Even Minmay, capriciously and selfishly, goes further, wishing that the two of them were the only survivors, so that Hikaru could only think of her and they could live peacefully. She goes so far as to express the request that all the others die, thus tarnishing the honor of all those who fell in battle or much more simply killed because of the conflict with the Zentradi. But this is, objectively, too much: Hikaru knows it and although reluctant to want to hit her, in the end he does what was right, slapping her. The girl therefore understands the situation; she thinks back, remembers her deceased parents (killed on Earth following the mass extermination) and takes on her responsibilities. Perhaps with a slightly more peaceful soul, after taking a little time to think about it, she communicates her final decision to the boy: she will sing, also in the name of her family, who, if the opposite happened, would be disappointed by her attitude. This fundamental moment portrays the next step that the girl takes towards her growth, both as a woman and as a singer, but, most likely, also the definitive realization of how she and Hikaru, in reality, find themselves in two completely different and separate worlds. We had already brought up, albeit superficially, the theme of incommunicability and different worlds: away with the creator of Macross himself, the work revolves around the human drama but, also, the realization of how different worlds exist. And, contrary to what one might assume, it could also be that the world of that person you thought was close to you or even part of, is actually further away than it seems. And to overcome communication barriers but – I add – also to be able to grow as people, we must start from here: start by recognizing that our worlds are actually different from each other. But, as anticipated, it is also a reason for further growth: therefore, the girl's assumption of responsibility, of fulfilling the role she plays and the duties that derive from it, becomes crucial. She owes it, after all, and as she herself will say, also to her parents, since she decided to take the path of the singer against their consent. On the other hand, if you are not able to take on responsibilities, you are nothing but a child, as the Minmay had shown herself to be; instead, she chooses to sing, thus advancing towards the path of adulthood. Always with regard to different worlds, the same interpretative line can also be traced in another scene: just after performing, the idol turns around and notices Misa in her direction, elevated inside the command bridge of the Macross. The two, therefore, reciprocate an intense exchange of glances, immersed in a deep silence. Their faces, at first, appear serious, almost as if to emphasize their rivalry, but in the end the two girls smile at each other, with Minmay who, sublimely, raises her arm in triumph, clutching the lyrics of the song in her closed fist. Even in this scene we could trace a mutual recognition of how the two inhabit, in reality, different worlds, but, above all, of how the two mature and develop a deep respect for each other and how, in a certain sense, they make peace. But, to be honest, the burning disappointment in love with Hikaru is not a sad experience in itself isolated and autonomous. No, because in turn it adds to and worsens a state of malaise already in place and preceding this. To be honest, a malaise that is not even too hidden if you think about it and that in the film will come out twice and quite obviously (especially the second time). What malaise am I referring to? At the beginning of the story, Minmay is already a successful singer and several times during the film she lets it transpire how this profession and this world - that of show business, full of pressure, expectations, dense and almost continuous commitments and, why not, even scandals - is suffocating and oppressing her. Basically, she is fed up and can no longer stand having to be under the spotlight every day and at the center of media attention. In short, she suffers the other side of that coin called fame, with all the consequences – even unpleasant and unwanted – that it entails (and that unfortunately, I imagine, many of her other colleagues, even real ones, have experienced, perhaps sometimes even leading them to a dead end or to the abrupt end of their careers). Already when she is trapped together with Hikaru at the beginning of the film, she seems in some ways almost relieved; an opportunity to take a few unexpected, but very welcome, days off from her tiring life. But it is the second scene in which, in my opinion, her immense and not at all hidden malaise really transpires: shortly after their night-time date, the two sit in an isolated place in Macross and there Minmay opens up to the boy, confessing how she really can't stand the life she's leading anymore. And I don't think it's a coincidence that that stance immediately follows (and is in a certain sense the result of) the interruption of their date because of a "pain in the ass" fan who, having recognized her, was about to approach her. The sum of these discomforts could, likely, have led her to manifest a - perhaps too long hidden - neurosis, whose tragic manifestation will be in that scene immediately following the exchange of glances: to quote someone for whom I equally have respect, a Minmay alone and abandoned remains on a now deserted stage like a derelict, taking time with the click of her boot in a desolate and melancholic scene. And that, ultimately, will produce in her the effect of leaving, taking off towards the space colonies, since for her there was nothing left on Earth.▶ Video

Here is the famous sequence of the cleat, a scene that sublimates my soul every time I watch it. Note the galaxies in the background that will return shortly in the speech.

After all, we certainly don't discover today how exacerbating life can be under the spotlight: Luchino Visconti with that masterpiece of Bellissima reminded us of how performing on a stage always means exposing yourself before a mocking public and consequently putting yourself in the pillory. Just as Kon Satoshi with that terrifying film Perfect Blue, albeit in very different circumstances, illustrated to us the unhealthy and distorted mechanisms that lie behind the Japanese entertainment industry - but not only this -, in its progressive putrescence.

But is all this suffering, through which the young starlet is forced to go, an end in itself or does it lead somewhere? In other words, does it actually serve any purpose? And if it does, what purpose does it serve? The answer, in reality, was already scattered throughout the meanders of this long-running discourse: Ai Oboete imasu ka focuses on its characters and their stories, and among these the most striking is undoubtedly that of Minmay. Because this film also highlights her growth path, the transition from childhood to adulthood and her definitive rise as a singer and artist. In the end, we could almost emphatically state that the real protagonist of the story is precisely the girl's personal growth: we all grow up sooner or later, willingly or not, and with this the advent of that transition mentioned above. So yes, it is true that Minmay comes out of it in pieces and with a torn soul but she has also elevated her soul to an even higher dimension, which allows her to take that last step towards her definitive maturation both as a woman but, also and above all, as a singer. Ergo, it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good: the loss of the man she loved, with all the pain it caused, and likely the straw that broke the camel's back, finally appears as an obstacle to overcome, a necessary passage to go through for the ascent to an even higher state. Humanly speaking, she could be pitied for what happens to her in the film but, turning the subject around, if all this hadn't happened to her, she would never have become, ultimately, a "star": in fact, if we change perspective and look at her career as a singer, she could only benefit from this experience. And so we return to that sublime scene described earlier, in which the pop idol takes the rhythm: it is certainly a sad and melancholic scene but which in reality hides something else. This sequence is Minmay's explicit awareness of what awaits her, of the new page of her life about to begin following the turning point of the previous one. Those spirals of light, like galaxies, which can be seen in the background and are interconnected, truly represent the infinite possibilities that her future has to offer her. This is the ultimate nature of counting: that of preparing for the advent of the future and of a new cycle of her life. And the length of the same – at times exhausting – is representative of the long and tortuous journey that she had to make to reach this destination. Precisely for this reason I believe that this scene, rather than taking place in a real place, actually takes place in an interior dimension near the girl, near her heart. And, I would say, everything fits together magnificently, because those who have seen the film know very well what happens shortly after: the girl's counting will end up transforming into the start of her last concert on Earth in a majestic transition, which will be the protagonist of the last animated sequence of the film. But, in my view, the entire previous scene is a preparation for the next one: for example, the lights on the stage that fade, darkening it and thus giving the impression that a second performance is about to begin shortly. As mentioned before, at the end of the film Minmay will leave Earth and this just mentioned is her farewell concert, held two years after the end of the conflict and right on the blue planet, now rebuilt, with the guardian Macross at its center. Her last concert on Earth, in which she will sing the single “Tenshi no Enogu” (which I will discuss later in a section dedicated to him), is the culmination of the path of maturation and growth undertaken by Minmay, as well as her consecration as a singer: it is a universal concert, held in front of thousands and thousands of people, made up of many different races but all united among themselves, in a unique moment of lightheartedness, happiness and festivity. A concert that unifies peoples in the name of a single and solid culture, of which Minmay rises to the muse and which will project her into legend, finally ascending with her soul towards the heavens, thus eternalizing her for the decades to come thanks to music. After all, she has never hated music: it was her vocation, her second love, as great as the one she felt for Hikaru. Although briefly, during the concert two images can be noticed, almost at opposite ends of the spectrum: the first in which Minmay appears depressed in front of the cameras and journalists, the second, instead, in which, quite the opposite, she appears smiling and with bunches of flowers in her hand, as gifts. These two images, almost as if to underline a before and an after, actually certify that despite the stormy moments of difficulty, the girl has, in conclusion, reached the status of an acclaimed star; combined with the serene portrait that is presented to us on the screen - even in her face - it is, for me, the evidence of how her life has started to flow again, definitively turning the page. Difficulties are part of everyday life and as such, and however painful, we must try to face them: it must, therefore, move on. A way can always be found and, as the great wise men said, it doesn't matter how or how many times you fall; what counts is your reactions following this fall. And from this point of view, I would say that Minmay has fully recovered; perhaps a little bruised, but still recovered. On the other hand, one cannot expect the wounds of the soul to regenerate in a short time; on the contrary, as such, they notoriously require a lot of time.

Is that all? Actually, not really, because to conclude this part I wanted to spend a few words on the original ending of the film in the strictest sense, which, in my opinion, can equally provide some interesting ideas: in fact, some final sequences were excluded from the final version of the film, presumably set during Minmay's farewell concert on Earth. This "afterword", if you can call it that, was cut for trivial reasons, such as budget and timing, and was included in a short film of about half an hour released a few years later, in 1987, to commemorate the fifth anniversary of the series. Flash Back 2012 is largely a compilation of Lynn Minmay's most famous hit songs, re-proposed to us with recycled animated sequences from both the television series and the film; therefore, it is towards the end that the real ending is shown to the viewer. A visibly grown-up Minmay in black clothes returns to the place where her last concert had taken place not long before: for a few seconds she is shown sitting in an empty audience; then she comes to the foot of the stage and climbs up. Here she still finds a piano: just play a few keys and the memories of her last live concert come back to her. At this point we see her performance again, with her latest single starting to play and accompanied by a poetic and evocative narration, in which she sees the her two companions and friends, Misa and Hikaru, both grown up. In the sequence immediately following, we witness the girl's departure from Earth in the strict sense: we see her in her room, immersed in her memories and savoring the nostalgia of those good times spent with her family and, at the same time, intent on finishing her suitcases. These are sad and extremely melancholic scenes, which portray a Minmay who has not yet recovered from her disastrous disappointment in love, but which if seen (or heard) in a different light, thanks to the song in the background, can take on a different weight. The sequence that follows is also very significant: on the screen we are shown a comparison between a young Minmay, who notices a billboard while walking down the street illustrating the Macross – which she will then get on board – and her adult version, about to leave. The scene seems identical: this time too, the girl stops on the street to observe something, yet this time something has changed. Instead of the Macross, on the billboard, we have beautifully sponsored the SDF-2 Megaroad- 01, heir and successor of the first, conceived as the very first long-distance spaceship aimed at the mass colonization of space (and in fact sanctioning its actual beginning), and on which Minmay will embark, taking off towards the space colonies. A Macross, the scene of countless events and battles, which had welcomed her as a young girl while now a Minmay who has become an adult and at the peak of her singing career is leaving, in what I would define as a real bildungsroman. And guess who is the captain of this luxurious and modern ship? None other than Misa accompanied by her trusted Hikaru, who is entrusted with the escort of the spaceship as squadron leader. Then comes the actual departure of the Megaroad, punctuated by the presence in several scenes of a young Minmay, almost as if the latter were personally witnessing the farewell of her adult self. The climax of this sequence is quite simply art: her young self, first framed from behind in a wide shot and now caught in close-up, goes from an apparently afflicted expression to a brightened smile, all the while turning her gaze towards the sky. And her hair, moved by the graceful wind, seems to blend harmoniously with the blue sky, thus allowing us to glimpse inside it the trail left by the Megaroad during its departure. But the direction, not content, gives us another pearl: we witness what is also the last scene in the film, that is, the ascent towards the sky of the girl's "spirit", with the difference that this time it merges with another scene having a "perspective from above", in which we see Minmay – as an adult - on board the spaceship intent on observing the panorama of her native planet. Since her ethereal spirit seems to ascend upwards, we are thus given the impression that it tends towards herself on board the spaceship, almost joining the two versions of her and with a rejoining of the, until shortly before, distinct and separate narrative and reality levels. The icing on the cake is served shortly after, when with a scenic and graceful bow performed on stage for her farewell concert, Minmay marks the conclusion of the story, greeting and thanking herself along with her spectators - both virtual and real -. The cycle of the first historical series of Macross, therefore, finally comes to its end, and with it its wonderful and human characters, who have given so much to the viewer. The very last cut of the short shows us in close-up the singer's face in the moment immediately following the conclusion of her last concert: while the screen all around fades and becomes more and more evanescent, we glimpse a Minmay performing with a happy smile, in the midst of the audience's acclaim, proving how singing has always been her true love and (how) she has definitively consecrated herself in her profession as a singer.

In conclusion, Flash Back 2012 represents the perfect, emotional and poetic ending that places the last piece completing the story of the first series, lato sensu, of the franchise, seasoned with an overall editing and direction that to define as brilliant and extraordinary would be quite an understatement.

A few words about the graphics

Before diving headlong into the sound I wanted to make an excursus on the graphics. Undoubtedly, one of the strengths of this film is the participation in its creation of most of the staff who had also worked on the animated series two years earlier: this, despite all its innovations especially graphic, had - and as it was right that it should be - its highs and lows while this is simply perfect. The graphics are excellent and of very high quality: it is literally a Macross on steroids, to the nth degree. In fact, the budget with which it was produced was, for the standards represented at the time, very high: 400 million yen (then equivalent to almost 1 million and 700 thousand dollars, today equivalent to more than 5 million dollars). It was the second-highest budget film of all time at the time, after only Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro (ルパン三世 カリオストロの城), the film that marked Miyazaki Hayao's directorial debut and cost 500 million yen. Not even the Uchū Senkan Yamato film series, directed by the legendary Matsumoto Leiji and Nishizaki Yoshinobu, ever came close to such thresholds. This ranking would then be badly disintegrated by Katsuhiro Otomo's 1988 film Akira, for which the abnormal budget of 1 billion yen was reached. But even Ai oboete imasu ka was not joking since four animation studios were involved in its creation, among which Tatsunoko Production obviously stands out, one of the most successful studios, famous in particular for having reinterpreted, let's say, "in a Japanese way" the influence of American superhero comics, giving life, among the most famous, to Casshern (originally Kyashān, from the homonymous Shinzō ningen Kyashān/新造人間キャシャーン) and founded in the distant 1962 by one of the greatest pioneers of animated history, Yoshida Tatsuo. And then, of course, the great geniuses who worked behind it (already listed in one of the first sections of this analysis), with the "creator" Kawamori Shoji at the time only twenty-four years old. The character design of the human characters was in the hands of Mikimoto; that of the aliens entrusted to Hirano Toshiki; last but not least, the mecha design was worked on by Itano Ichirō, a character who has been kept quiet until now and never mentioned by me but who, finally, I can tell you about. This gentleman revolutionized the action scenes and the way of fighting in Japanese animation during the eighties: his animation style was renamed (it seems already by his colleagues at the time) and is still remembered today as “Itano circus” (板野サーカス) or, alternatively, as “Macross missile massacre”, in honor of the series in which this technique shone the most. It essentially consists of an extremely dynamic and acrobatic depiction of dogfights (i.e. close-range air combat), with a very fast camera, sometimes accompanied by whirling movements and whose common denominator is a myriad of guided missiles launched in pursuit of the enemy, characterized by tortuous and smoky trails and/or irregular trajectories, meticulously and detailedly animated one by one and by the subsequent and consequent spectacular dodges performed by the fighters. These are breathtaking scenes, marked by the spectacular nature, the acrobatics and their speed of execution, embodying the concept and meaning of all-round action. This vision of depicting action scenes has revolutionized battles in conventional animation, supplanting the classic duels, in the strict sense of the term, often one-on-one and with dramatic tones that had always characterized the productions of the previous decades (the final duel between the Great Mazinger and the Black General comes to mind, very trivially, probably among the most chivalrous clashes ever), with dynamic battlefields, crowded with fast fighters and overwhelming rivers of missiles. Since then, obviously, this animation technique has been replicated in the last thirty years by just as many animators in just as many productions, becoming customary in this genre, and always with the aim of making the viewer relive that feeling of excitement on the screen. The use of the term "circus" comes from the use of a nickname of the same name referring to the air unit of Genda Minoru: a very skilled pilot, he was an aviator and general in the Japanese Navy Air Force and, also, one of the main creators, together with admirals Ōnishi Takijirō and Yamamoto Isoroku, of the plan attack to Pearl Harbor. He became known in his homeland since the thirties by leading a squadron of navy biplanes in the famous Yokosuka Kōkūtai (i.e. the first fighter air group of the Japanese Navy), also involved in air shows and acrobatic demonstrations, which became known with the name, precisely, of "Genda's Flying Circus". Naturally, when I illustrated the innovations introduced in the Macross television series, this one is clearly included: combined with the meticulous character design of the mecha and the realistic light reflections and shadows, the amalgam that came out of it was a a wonder for the eyes of all fans of the time. The scenic climax is reached with the final sequence of the final battle against the Zentradi, with the irruption of the Macross Fortress and Hikaru's Valkyrie in the enemy mothership: he, accompanied by the sweet notes of Minmay, makes his way towards the Zentradi Patriarch, exploding rivers of missiles and wriggling aboard the fighter, finally dealing the final coup de grace, in a scene that, no matter how many times I watch it, will always arouse in me deep and immense emotion, enough to lead me to tears of joy.▶ Video

This is the aforementioned spectacular final sequence

I will leave a video compilation of Itano Circus below, so that anyone interested can get a clear idea of what it entails.

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We can certainly say that 1984 was a truly lucky year and blessed by art: in addition to this film, two other absolute masterpieces were also released, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (風の谷のナウシカ; Kaze no tani no Naushika), also directed by Hayao Miyazaki and released before the founding of Studio Ghibli, (foundation) which would take place the following year; the other is Urusei Yatsura – Beautiful Dreamer (うる星やつら2 ビューティフルドリーマー , Urusei Yatsura ni - Byūtifuru Dorīmā), an extraordinary and visionary film directed by another phenomenal director, Oshii Mamoru. Well, in that fateful year, in relation to the public's appreciation Nausicaä was placed first, Macross second and Urusei Yatsura 2 in third place. A year full of successes for cinematographic films, absolutely triumphant from every point of view, especially economic, if we consider the frightening takings achieved by the three films in question. Who knows if for the Japanese this year is remembered with particular nostalgia. Who knows. Because ultimately only they can know for sure.

Art & art.

… and about the Music

And last but not least, I will focus on the sound, for the appropriate insights related to it. The two singles of this film, already mentioned previously, are the cover song of the film, “Ai Oboete imasu ka?” (愛・おぼえていますか/ Do You Remember Love?) and “Tenshi no Enogu" (天使の絵の具), used as the ending theme of the film and for Minmay's farewell concert held on Earth. Let's start with the first: the song was written by Yasui Kazumi and Katō Kazuhiko and is still Ijima Mari's most famous and profitable single. It ranked seventh in the Oricon single charts while it placed 38th in the Oricon year-end charts (1984), with over 270,000 copies sold. It also won the anime Grand Prix award assigned for the song category, thanks to the votes of the readers of the Animage magazine. But let's go beyond the mere statistics, which are certainly significant but only up to a certain point: we have seen how the authors of Macross, in conceptualize the character of Minmay have found sources of inspiration in reality. And so the question could arise spontaneously in this case too: even behind this song is there a reference model in reality that influenced it? Well the answer is, equally, yes: as confirmed by Kawamori himself in some interviews (already at the time) the song "Lili Marleen" (which can also be written in other ways) had a certain influence on him in the conception of these ideas. Lili Marleen is a love song of German origins that found great fortune during the Second World War, involving both the Axis and Allied forces. But let's go in order: the song, according to what we know, was not originally born in this guise; rather, it was born as a short poem, composed of three verses, written by Hans Leip (1893-1983), a German writer and poet, at the time a professor in the city of Hamburg and conscripted to enter the German imperial army. It was composed in 1915, when he was about to leave for the Russian front during the First World War. The name “Lili Marleen” was coined by combining the name of the girlfriend of a friend of his (other sources report that it was his one), called Lili, with that of another woman, Marleen, who worked as a nurse. The poem was then published in 1937 under the title of “Das Lied eines jungen Soldaten auf der Wacht” (The Song of a Young Sentinel), including two additional verses. It was then set to music the following year by Norbert Schultze, a prolific film composer and member of both the NSDAP and Joseph Goebbels' staff, and finally recorded and sung the following year, in 1939, for the first time ever by Lale Andersen, who was the first of many famous performers to lend her voice to the song. It was only a few years later, however, that it rose to international stardom, transcending the ongoing world war and becoming the song "of all the soldiers at the front": after the occupation of Belgrade by German forces in 1941, Radio Belgrade became their radio station under the name "Soldatensender Belgrad", with broadcasts audible throughout Europe and the Mediterranean. And from then on it spread like wildfire, accompanying the lives of countless soldiers, who, according to their memoirs, used to listen to it at the end of a tiring day. Even in late 1944, with the liberation of Belgrade imminent, it continued to be broadcast, coinciding with the advance of the Red Army. In the same year, the "Morale Operations" division of the British OSS started the "Muzak Project", consisting of musical propaganda through broadcasts aimed at demoralizing enemy soldiers. For this purpose, some recordings of the German actress and singer Marlene Dietrich, who had fled to the United States to escape the Nazis, were reused, and among these there was one of Lili Marleen. Dietrich performed it in front of the Allied troops and, in all likelihood, it was her contribution that ultimately made it famous throughout the rest of the world and, I dare say, eternalized it in history, being remembered today as one of the best songs ever, if not the most beautiful of all time. And, I don't know who will read this, but I find all this simply wonderful, seasoned with a supernatural magic that I cannot explain in words. The song, however, did not have an easy life: despite reaching fame throughout the world, it was still opposed countless times by Goebbels himself, who however had to surrender to the letters of protest written by the German soldiers themselves, including even Field Marshal Rommel, thus resuming the broadcasts that had been forbidden until recently. Simply the power of music. Ended there? No way. Now, in the name of God the readers will have to decide – in this context -, but I cannot help but report this fact, whether true or fictional. The story is told – I dare say incredible – of the second year student Jack L. Tueller, who armed with his trusty trumpet enlisted in the US Army Air Corps during the Second World War. The boy, too young to be a pilot, was initially trained as a radio operator and subsequently assigned to a B-25 bomber. In June 1943 he was sent to England, for the upcoming invasion of France; After the Normandy landings, the Allied troops established a beachhead (a temporary line of defense created following a sea landing to defend the surrounding area) in France and also began building an airstrip at Omaha Beach. During the operations, German snipers killed several workers: Tueller's commander ordered him not to play, obviously so as not to attract the snipers' attention. But the man ignored the order and played anyway: the choice fell, cunningly, on Lili Marleen, a German love song. And as if by magic, the snipers fell silent. The next morning, the military police informed him that one of the prisoners among them had asked questions about who was playing the trumpet; Tueller rushed to the prisoner area and when he met the aforementioned person, she burst into tears and said that she could not shoot because she was moved by memories of her fiancée and her family. Truly, like never before, the power of music. Minmay, weren't you sneaking in somewhere? But not just music: also the power of love. Yes; do you remember love? And then everything magically comes back like an ouroboros; and then Misa's words at the end of the film take on even more value and become more truthful than ever: as soon as Minmay's performance that led humanity to victory is over, a surprised and amazed Claudia, her work colleague, asks her how it is possible that the girl's singing had such an effect on their opponents, and Misa first answers by telling her that it is "a simple popular song", adding shortly after that it was a very well-known song in that alien city tens of thousands of years ago. And, finally, she will conclude by saying with a serene smile on her lips: "(It is) a very common... love song". And Misa is absolutely right, because most likely the feeling of love is the most human thing a person has: love for one's loved ones, love for the woman one loves, love for one's companions or friends, love for one's country and so on and so forth. This feeling of brotherhood and universal cohesion is not foreign even to an alien race that in its life had done nothing but massacre each other, wearing itself out in continuous and infinite battles. Of course it had been lost, but now it has prevailed again and has been reacquired together with culture in the broadest sense. Because in a certain sense music is itself a form of culture of a people; don't you think so too? Vice versa, changing perspective we could say that, on the other hand, love is a concept common to all types of cultures. Lastly – this is a curiosity – for those who were wondering (or have already wondered) if an original version of the song's lyrics was ever sung, that is in proto-culturian – I know it's quite funny – since this is, as we know, a song of alien origins of which only the lyrics are deciphered, the answer is always yes. Are you really telling us that there is a version of Ai oboete imasu ka sung in an alien language? I know I might seem like a joker but, I repeat, I'm serious. To be able to listen to it, however, we will have to wait for the latest series of the franchise, Macross Δ, and with it one of its female protagonists, Mikumo Guynemer.

What can we say about the second song, instead? “Tenshi no Enogu" (天使の絵の具), universally translated into English as “Angel's Paint”, was not only sung by Ijima but was actually written by her – in fact she is both a singer and a composer –. In my opinion, this is a song that is crucial to understanding the girl's feelings and her state of mind at the end of the film and it is obviously no coincidence that it was included as the closing song of the film. But what is it about, more specifically? Its protagonist – clearly Minmay herself – thinks back to everything that has happened to her, especially the sad events, noting how these have colored her heart blue (japanese says “Kanashii dekigoto ga Buruu ni someta kokoro mo”). But shortly after, the listener is mentioned a particular type of painting, that of the angel (precisely Tenshi no Enogu), which She will use it to repaint her stained heart, thus smoothing out her sad memories (“Tenshi no enogu de nurikaeru yo”). Curious (or significant) that the line immediately following this one reads: “Omoi no mama ni", a phrase that can be rendered as "In the way I want/As I want". Regardless of the most fitting translation of this expression, what is a certain fact is that it implies, however you look at it, a certain voluntariness and therefore (I could try to define it) a certain freedom of control. So what do we get by connecting all the dots scattered up to now? Simply that, in its wonder, this song embodies and expresses Minmay's overcoming of the trauma and that, at the moment in which this song is sung, this passage, this translation has, by now, already occurred or at least is moving towards its definitive conclusion. Placed at an even more banal level, this song is the symbol of a life that finally, after a long ordeal, can begin to flow serenely again, with notes of serenity and happiness, towards the infinite possibilities that her future was ready to offer her. The final message that this song offers us, I have reason to believe, is something very important; probably obvious in some ways but so important that it must always be remembered regardless: someone has given us the greatest gift that man could ever desire, life. And this life must be lived and continued to the fullest of its possibilities; it cannot stop. But not because it cannot, because what will never stop is time, much less will we ever be able to rewind it. Unfortunately, human beings today do not yet have a magic wand. Life is also an arduous test: made of ups and downs, made of moments of carefree joy and infinite sadness, in a continuous undulation of a roller coaster, filled with moments of difficulty, sometimes, perhaps, so suffocating that we find ourselves with our backs to the wall. Yet I am convinced that these “Kanashii omoide”, these sad memories, can be dispelled with a little determination, willpower and, above all, with the closeness of those who are close to us and love us. Then, as is the nature of things, the wounds of the soul will be slower to heal but, I am always convinced, that time takes its course and slowly, very slowly, can mend them. And I will not say, with artificial hypocrisy, “Never give up" because giving up in life can happen. But, and this is what really matters, getting up, getting back on your feet and starting to walk again, towards a future that we can only discover by living. Even in the darkest moments of our lives, like dear Minmay, we can always find a way to heal and move on: this is, in my personal reading, the ultimate sensus of Tenshi no Enogu. A song with reassuring tones, which overall suggests a sense of hope and faith in (our) future. Or maybe it will be the image of angelic candor that represents a greater comfort for us – for those who believe –, as the lyrics of the song always suggest, since towards the end it refers to an "infinite light" (Eien no hikari) that will one day "summon" it (Itsuka[…] watashi wo izanau). Let's go back, then, to a few paragraphs ago, where I was about to describe the last moments of the real afterword of the film in Flash Back 2012: when I praised and extolled the direction and the construction of the scenes in the aforementioned short, I was not doing it so much for the sake of it but because it really is like that. In that scene, which I didn't finish describing earlier and which I can now finally complete, in which we first see Minmay turned from behind in a wide shot and, subsequently, caught in close-up, you can notice the perfect and meticulous synchrony between the images on the screen and the lyrics of the song in the background: when she is still turned from behind, here it is the first verse of the chorus resounds: “Sad events have colored my heart blue”, while when Minmay is caught in close-up the following one corresponds: “I will repaint them with the angel’s paint/ Just as [I] want”. And for those who remember what happens on the screen a few seconds later, or more simply for those who have seen the film, they will know that the girl will turn with a hopeful laugh, raising her gaze towards the blue sky. I can repeat it countless times: brilliant. Sublime. And absolutely consistent with the purpose of the song, which serves as the perfect frame for the final twist of the events of Minmay’s character as well as the entire epilogue of the whole story.

As before, I will leave below the videos in which it is possible to listen to the two singles examined above sung by Ijima Mari (in that case I wish you good listening).

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In conclusion

And this, ladies and gentlemen, was all I had to say about this amazing masterpiece and a page of indelible and perpetual history. A film that undoubtedly mirrors the Japanese context of the time, representing the subcultures and phenomena in the limelight at the time, such as that of idols (still in vogue today); of the environment of economic well-being prevailing in the Japanese eighties, of which a thick trace is left in the paintings of the city; elected as an icon of that 1984 so glorious and full of successes. A film that makes expressiveness its greatest strength; a film that speaks first and foremost of love, showing us and reminding us of how it, in all its forms, is the most wonderful and human feeling of all. A film capable of moving; capable of capturing you and moving something deep inside you. And that, personally, will continue to move me regardless of the amount of times I watch it again. Therefore, even though I am a lover of the franchise in its entirety and there are other equally worthy works (I could mention several), I believe, in light of what has been illustrated above, that this is absolutely - and by far - the highest point of all of Macross. To the point that Minmay herself, in addition to eternalizing herself in the history of animation, will be remembered as a legend even within the story itself, and her heavy legacy will be collected by the successors who will follow her, through a sublime passing of the baton. Who knows if among countless cycles even our shattered civilization will leave some vestiges; perhaps, why not, a plate on which you could see something written... And then one of the finders, perhaps able to understand this language a little and after having indulged in a reading, could turn to his companion and may ask him: "Do you remember love?".