The Garden of Eden was not in Asia but on a now sunken continent in the Pacific Ocean. The Biblical story of Creation came first not from the peoples of the Nile or the Euphrates Valley but from this now-submerged continent, Mu - the Motherland of Man.
RahXephon is a hodgepodge of ideas. An anime inspired by art and history alike and is Yutaka Izubuchi's personal reinterpretation of Yuusha Raideen, a traditional super-robot show from the 1970s. However, unlike Raideen, many of the show's ideas borrow heavily from western literature, first and foremost James Churchward's believes regarding the Nacaal, a super human species that is said to have inhabited the (now) lost continent of Mu. Various books on the matter exist, and their influence can be felt from start to finish. Recall the quote? It's an essential part of RahXephon's overarching narrative. Similar to the creatures referred to in the bible, the former inhabitants of the Motherland of Man (referred to as Mulians) have an active interest in resetting the world's current state, too.
Thus RahXephon closely imitates Mesoamerican aesthetics, its culture and its peoples, and presents many references and allegories linking the two throughout. Confusing terms like ixtli (face), yollotl (heart) and ollin (movement, also Ōllin Tōnatiuh) are taken from Nahuatl, an ancient Aztec language. The mech designs utilize various Nacaal symbols, most notably the ruling class' crest as an integral part of the protagonist's mechanical unit. Another example are the blue blooded villains, who just so happen to start their invasion in 2012, the year of the apocalypse. The list of nifty little homages also includes wordplays, such as the Mulian's ability to turn structures invisibile to the human eye, and thereby explaining why the Continent of Mu was Lost in the first place. Many such details are sprinkled all over the show and a testament to how throughly it was built.
I've divided this review into two separate segments. The first one addresses the narrative structure, visual and acoustic directing as well as various storytelling tools used in RahXephon. The second focuses on RahXephon as a work built on outside-influence and by doing so tries to clarify and explain similarities between the show and various other anime. The latter is neither necessary to understand nor appreciate RahXephon. Consider it educational material for those who are unknowledgeable of the mecha genre, the relationships between industry icons and the derivative nature of Japanese animation. There are some spoilers, albeit not a lot of overly specific ones. Seeing how most subplots stretch over a vast amount of different episodes, I've tried to avoid longwinded remarks regarding twists or narrative developments. Otherwise I'd have been forced to analyze each episode individually, something that feels rather counterproductive considering the format.
_You'll encounter various hyperlinks throughout this review. Sometimes to interviews, sometimes to polls, sometimes to WebMs, very often to WebMs with sound. Keep that in mind._
#Rah = Sun god (Churchward); X = the unknown variable; -ephon = suffix for instrument from "-phone"
Contrary to popular belief, RahXephon is not about music. It's a traditional mystery and coming-of-age story, albeit an exceptionally well directed one. Unlike anime a la SDF Macross, RahXephon neither tries to explore the impact of music on culture, nor does it attempt to explain how music can connect different species'. Music is used as an aesthetic basis to sell setting and atmosphere, give ways to exert power or provide a theme based naming convention. A tool to create harmony. Presented contrasts between music and painting, symbolizing expectations, free will and individuality, are merely used to characterize the show's protagonist. The primary (narrative) themes are therefore not music or sound, but rather manipulation, ones ability to cope with failure and the struggle to find back to reality. Escaping a dreamstate, so to speak.
Loosely based on Robert F. Young's Dandelion Girl, Izubuchi's first directional work is, as far as I am concerned, the most thoroughly and flawlessly constructed story in all of Japanese animation. Despite coming off as simple coming-of-age, RahXephon sports an impressive amount of very important subplots, all of which hand the viewer additional world building information. Said information is rarely necessary to understand the overaching narrative, but it's required to fully appreciate narrative developments and character behavior. While Izubuchi regularly resorts to spoonfeeding the audience some form of context, he does so in a manner that is very different to traditional exposition. Information is spread thinly, and over the course of many episodes. By doing so, RahXephon comes together stroke by stroke, layer by layer, and only by the end will the audience fully realize what the artist's vision added up to.
To be a little more specific: The above conversation happens in episode 6, yet only gains actual narrative relevance by episode 14. The audience needs to keep track of the information provided, or otherwise future events will appear like mere coincidence and, in consequence, appear like very convenient twists. Izubuchi does this all the time. Small breadcrumbs are being laid out and allow the viewer to reach answers way in advance of the actual reveals. While none of this might sound particularly exceptional, most directors fail at presenting information in such a comprehensible manner. The writers did not only weave vital information into almost every episode, but also managed to create a story that flows organically, ties up all of its narrative subplots and does so without relying on character run-ins or other cheap narrative tools.
Even if such tools are employed, they are very often justified through character traits, rather than being convenient plot devices. The staff does not try to change character relationships by having A run into an intimate scene between B and C, but rather structures the events in a way that show C to specifically force a misunderstanding between A and B by striking the moment he notices A's presence. By giving a character intent, the misunderstanding's primary purpose becomes to build the cast, rather than to destroy already established relationships. In this particular case, the action can also be seen as a desperate attempt to preserve the individual's paradise (or dream).
Even the stereotypical beach episode is skillfully used as a narrative device to address Ayato's sexuality and his behavioural patterns in relation to women. Ayato is a Mulian, an unwanted guest. A person who, due to his ability to pilot a mythical robot, is seen as an outsider, an alien so to speak. Showing intimate character interactions and the protagonist's (for anime) unusual response to the female form, serves as evidence that he's not different at all, no matter what he might be perceived as. He's an ordinary teenager just as much as a genetically engineered tool conceived to retune the world.
Other prominent themes are deception and manipulation, both of which are tied perfectly into the coming-of-age story as well as the dreamlike visualization and acoustics. The show's goal is for Ayato to abandon his naive and childish state of being a manipulated individual, the state of a person without free will and actual independence. A state similar to what many of us experience while dreaming. Unless one possesses the ability to force lucid dreams, the dreamer is never in control of the events. Memories will be fading and very rarely be detailed. Sometimes our conscience even makes fun of us by portarying fears or wishes in abstract ways and ultimately comments on our mental state and deepest desires. Ayato is a character who has to free himself from the dreamlike world he is stuck in. He has to free himself from outside manipulation and his role as a pawn. The role he was assigned by Bahbem, Terra, the Mulian empire and Reika, the RahXephon's soul.
To accommodate this goal, the staff put a sizeable emphasis on the show's acoustic presentation. RahXephon utilizes an extremely dreamy soundtrack and by doing so further enhances the trancelike visual presentation. It could even be argued for the OST to bear significant resemblence to lounge music. Similar to dreams, lounges are places that allow us to escape and forget outside troubles. By trying to invoke a concurrent state of trance or relaxation, it manages to put additional emphasis on the situations the individual characters find themselves in, and the slow but consistent development towards the story's conclusion. The musical score doesn't play a mere support-role, but manages to build layer of its own. By putting additional emphasis on the surreal and deceptive nature of many events, the acoustics were essential to making the experience both stylistically and narratively coherent.
Even when paying homage to European opera, the referenced compositions are very much thematically relevant. Take Alexander Borodin's Dance of the Maidens, a melody one can also find in Kismet, a stageplay starring two lovers from different worlds, as an example. Instead of using acclaimed western compositions for the sole purpose of giving his show a more exotic touch, the pieces serve as fundamental elements used to embellish the story and its character's relationships.
Oscar Wilde once said: "Music is the art which is most nigh to tears and memory". Given the strong connection between Ayato's memories and RahXephon's musical motif, it's safe to say that the show's staff, Youta Tsuruoka in particular, really took this quote to heart. The sound director, to many known for his work on Madoka, the Monogatari series and more recently Liz to Aoi, contributed more to RahXephon's harmonic presentation than almost any other person. Not only does the implementation of the soundtrack carry significant weight, but the timing and selection of the sound-effects, as well as the seiyuu's stellar performances, are in a league of their own. Emotional when appropriate, yet never overly melodramatic. It's the script and its subtext that give dialogue the necessary impact and aforementioned humanness, not disingenuously exaggerated angst.
However, it should be noted that various fights sport subpar sound-mixing. Some of the sound-effects clash so much with the rest of the show's presentation and are so inaccurate and disjointed, I've started to consider for them to be intentionally bad. Although I have yet to figure out why.
Storyboarding and layouts are generally on point. There are some weaker sequences, sure, but all things considered the show presents visual cues long and obvious enough for the viewer to notice them and come to realize their importance. Many segments are visually chained together to allow the audience to combine puzzlepieces without longwinded exposition being necessary. Symbols are frequently used, yet not to an extent that risks making the audience feel like a bunch of halfwits. In fact, what the staff clearly excels at is utilizing symbolism to enhance the story and build the world. Instead of using frames that vaguely indicate character traits (commonly seen in Ikuhara's works), RahXephon first and foremost uses its metaphorical language to communicate essential narrative elements, and it does so very often, and very well.
However, don't get me wrong. The show still very much utilizes visual language as a means to flesh out its characters and their emotional state. In fact, allegories are fairly common, but they merely serve as an additional layer to reasonably educated individuals, rather than being crucial narrative elements a viewer is required to decipher to truly get the story.
The picture on the left shows young Helena in ep12. The picture on the right shows the book Bahbem drops after being shot in ep25. This particular visual cue exists to imply for Bahbem and Helena to have swapped bodies, something that is confirmed halfway through ep26. But that is not all. It also serves as a way to illustrate the similarities between both works.
Take the Wizard's most famous quote as an example: "[...] pay no attention to the man behind the curtain". A phrase that matches Bahbem's years of scheming to a t. However, the similarities go much deeper and it just so happens that the so called antagonists (Itsuki, Ishiki, Helena & Bahbem) very much happen to resemble the book's main characters.
「Lion」: Itsuki resembles the Lion, an individual who has always craved courage. As a character, whose primary goal is to prove himself. Be more like his brother Ayato, to be precise. Throughout the show Itsuki is very much shown as someone who suffers from being a substitute of his brother, receiving little to no love from the people who he cares about most (Quon, Shirow, Haruka). He wants people to choose him over his brother, and is even shown to force himself in an attempt to gain their affection. Similar to the Lion, Itsuki also happens to be the tallest of the bunch.
「Scarecrow」: Ishiki resembles the Scarecrow, an individual who has been seeking intelligence and a more elevated mind. Ever since his childhood, he's been suffering from a severe lack of confidence due to his status as a D type, an inferior clone who was told to lack the genetic foundation to amount to anything worth praise. He seeks the brains necessary to prove himself, despite, same as the Scarecrow, already possessing the smarts he wants to attain. The latter is indicated by him outperforming all other clones over the course of the show.
「Tinman」: Helena resembles the Tinman, an individual who is seeking a heart. Throughout the show, Helena is often portrayed as an emotionally distant individual, arguably even one who lacks empathy entirely. In ep15 she's not only shown to be indifferent towards physical punishment, but also to lack the emotion necessary to care for other life. First she kills various animals, with her body language and facial expressions clearly indicating indifference or even disgust towards inferior creatures. Afterwards she not only attempts exorcise the dolem hiding in the attic, but even rats out Ishiki, Itsuki and the dolem, being fully aware of the consequences. Another cue is the book itself. The picture on the right shows the tinman almost off screen, shrouded in shadow and darkness, indicating its death. Her death.
「Dorothy」: Despite matching the wizard superficially, Bahbem's character defining desires also happen to match Dorothy's. Both of whom want to return home desperately. Or rather, reach a destination they'd consider as such. The creation of the RahXephon device split the Mulain world into two. After having been cut-off from his fellow Mulian, he decided to pursue his own agendas, ultimately trying to go back "home" by reuniting the two worlds his expoeriment had created. At the end of ep26, Bahdem expresses his satisfaction with the way the events turned out. Him not only matching Dorothy in mind, but also in form (body-swapping), also adds to this notion.
Tying in with the dreamlike atmosphere, the cinematography is often abstract and the use of color pinpointed. Scenes are regularly framed in a manner to actively blur the lines between Ayato as a human, and Ayato as a pilot. During dedicated dream sequences, the staff paid additional attention to the color palettes used. Such episodes tend to utilize an extremely limited range of different shades, perfectly matching the narrow perception of dreamers and manipulated invidividuals. Minimalistic compositions are common, desaturated yellows and oranges probably the most frequently used colors.
Whether the colors have a particular meaning is left to interpretation. Admittedly, there are people who claim for yellow colored dreams to indicate deceit and deception, betrayal or an unpleasent event. Yellow and orange are also said to indicate negative emotions such as anxiety, emotional fragility and immaturity. While these interpretations would perfectly align with the themes addressed, I doubt for it to be more than a stylistic choice. However, given the thoroughness of the show and its presentation, it'd be foolish to deny the possibility of intentional subtext. Another prominent tool are character specific color palettes to allow the audience to associate objects or Dolems with specific cast members, e.g. subtext explains why the hostile Dolem in ep19 is automatically bound to Asahina (rose color theme, wears a hoody, matching spirits).
A symbol I want to shed a bit more light on is the blue bird. Most cultures consider it a sign of happiness. Izubuchi seems to have a soft spot for it, given how it also appears in his reinterpretation of Uchuu Senkan Yamato. In RahXephon, the birds behavior and its refusal to take flight can be seen as a visualization of the current state of afairs and likely a direct reference to Maeterlinck's writing. Towards the end, the bird finally leaves the ground in various shapes. Either literally, or metaphorically through Haruka and her plane, Ayato visually transforming into it after a cut, or both of them finally arriving at the place they hold most dear. At the same time it also symbolizes Shirow Watari's hope for his son to find happiness as a reward for the struggle he was put through. It's a commendable little detail, albeit not very abstract or thought-provoking considering its very clear meaning.
As far as animation is concerned, studio Bones did an exceptional job considering the unexplored state of digital art at the time. Sure, animators improved a lot over the course of the following years and there's no doubt for Eureka 7 to be significantly better animated than RahXephon. However, given the show's placement in history, it'd be ignorant to deny the tremendous amounts of skill required. It was, technically speaking, the first television show of its kind.
The amount of different angles, objects and characters are being animated from, is very high and the effects animation a standout characteristic for its time. Properly animating smokes and liquids requires an excessive amount of work, which is why most television directors either delegate the effects animation to the CG department or ignore it for anything but the most important sequences. Putting emphasis on effects animation, something that tended to be reasonably exclusive to movies and high budget OVAs, was a very commendable decision to make. The battle-choreographies are impressively versatile and the show's highs are very high, albeit not as high as those found in anime such as Dennou Coil or Xam'd.
Another remarkable accomplishment is its consistency, something that shouldn't be taken for granted given the project's scope. Even its single outsourced episode sports a handful of well animated sequences. Similar to its story, RahXephon's budget-distribution was meticulously planned and turned the show into the bar none most well animated television anime of the early 2000s, the only real contender being GITS:SAC. Most of the noteworthy sequences were animated by Mitsuo Iso (see below), Masahito Yamashita, Masami Goto, Yutaka Nakamura and Shuichi Kaneko. Takashi Tomioka also did a great job animating various character-centric sequences (serious approach, comedic approach).
As announced: Following is a short detour to point out similarities between RahXephon, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Yuusha Raideen and various other Mecha shows released throughout history. It is by no means an attempt to deny Evangelion's obvious influence on RahXephon. However, said influence is severely overrated. The goal of this segment is to highlight series' relationships and to make the derivative nature of Japanese animation more clear to the average individual. If you lack interest in educating yourself on this particular subject, then I'd advise to skip ahead.
#RahXephon – Super-Robo (and Real-Robo), the show's cousin(s).
Ever since RahXephon aired, many people have accused it of being a blatant rip-off of Neon Genesis Evangelion. To understand why these two share nothing but superficial similarities, one needs to have substantial understanding of 1) the Mecha genre, 2) Japanese mentality and 3) the relationship between Anno Hideaki and Izubuchi Yutaka.
Izubuchi and Anno are more than mere colleagues or peers. They are friends. Such close friends in fact, they not only invented nicknames for eachother, but also repeatedly relied on the other party's assistance to advance personal projects of theirs. Some examples: Anno invited Izubuchi to consult during the planning stages of Evangelion (1990s), and later asked him to design the costumes for his Cutie Honey live action movie (2004), Evangelions 1.11 (2007) and Evangelion 3.33 (2012) as well as various pieces of merchandise for Shin Godzilla (2016). In return, Izubuchi invited Anno to storyboard an opening for 2199 (2010s), the remake of Uchuu Senkan Yamato, a Japanese classic with a special place in both director's hearts. Additionally, they've worked hand-in-hand on various projects, most notably Char's Counter Attack for which Anno served as the lead mechanical designer and Izubuchi as the (arguably) lead mobile suit designer. The latter's designs are still considered to be the best in franchise history (Nu-Gundam just recently won another poll as most popular Gundam of all time).
Not only does their relationship have a long personal history, but their careers have also been shaped by the same people, similar childhood experiences and a comparable interest in design. Even today, the two still host panels at sci-fi conventions together. Neither Anno, nor Izubuchi even acknowledge noteworthy similarities between RahXephon and Evangelion. How come?
I mean, let's be fair. It's clear that Izubuchi took various visual cues from Anno's playbook. So why do neither of them acknowledge any similarities? Well, on one hand, it's part of Japanese mentality. The Japanese have never seen a point in reinventing the wheel. If an idea is good, why not just use and improve on it? They've been doing so in a variety of fields, most notably the legal sector. Even today, Japans legal system (especially private law) is nothing but a hodgepodge of German, European and US law. On the other hand, it's the history of the subgenre. Evangelion wasn't new. It simply combined commonly utilized concepts, visual cues and narrative approaches and cranked them up to eleven.
Inspiration isn't linear. If B gets inspired by A, then C doesn't suddenly get inspired B. It's illogical to assume for later works to always build on the ideas utilized by the most recent releases. Memorable works, that have a significant impact on a director's ideas, tend to stretch back as far as their childhood. Thus it becomes less a question of creative capability, but rather one of business opportunity. Riding the coattails of a show's success simply speaks for a person's understanding of the market. Japanese animation is derivative, and has been for a very long time. All media is.
RahXephon is a show that, similar to Neon Genesis Evanglion, takes from a variety of works that made their mark on anime as a medium. This is something a person needs to understand prior to spitballing accusations. Two shows that were of fundamental importance to RahXephon's genesis are Yuusha Raideen and Megazone23, mecha anime from the mid-70s and -80s respectively. I will focus a bit on the superficial similarities between RahXephon, Raideen and Evangelion now. Keep in mind that this is but a short list. If I were to specify them all, you'd be scrolling for quite some time.
I could go on for hours. Whether it's the female lead's role as a military pilot, the monsters being made of organic material instead of metal, episodes carrying elemental themes (e.g. ice, fire, thunder), the mecha growing in size during the final showdown (all Yuusha Raideen) or intrigue and mysterious subplots of hidden organizations controlling the world and creating a false reality (Megazone23). RahXephon and Evangelion borrow so heavily from other works, that neither of them can be considered truly original in the first place?
This list doesn't even account for influences from Macross, Ideon, Gundam, Layzner, Iczer, Ultraman, Tokusatsu, Patlabor or copy pasted sequences from shows a la Combattler V, most of which Anno hardly even modified prior to integrating into his widely acclaimed TV show. Also relevant: non-mecha anime produced by Ghibli or Dezaki as well as Live-Action film (e.g. 2001 Space Odyssey, Stalker, Tarkovsky's remaining filmography, The Andromeda Strain).
Originality is not only overrated, but has arguably become an impossibility. Anno and Izubuchi took works they held dear and re-aranged them to fit a more modern market. Their works resembling eachother on a superficial level is no more than the logical conclusion of their careers and personal histories. Let's not even start on the fact that RahXephon's narrative structure, themes, atmosphere, acoustic presentation and character writing are entirely different to Evangelion's. Ayato is to Shinji what a well adjusted adult is to an autistic child. Their similarities quickly boil down to being 17 year olds who just so happen to pilot a mechanical unit. If anything, RahXephon is a response to Evangelion.
So how comparable are they really? Here you have what I consider the most accurate comment on the matter
[...] Evangelion was a fevered passion project that crashed wildly against the caged boundaries of its medium, whereas RahXephon was assembled in a laboratory.
Pre-Rebuild Evangelion (and End of Evangelion in particular) is an exceptional series. However, its success does not mean for all future shows to use it as their primary inspiration. Such an assumption makes even less sense when the two anime in question focus on entirely different elements. Something an attentive audience should have realized by now, especially considering how strongly Anno conveyed his fascination with the genre by littering Evangelion with hundreds of references to other works. If Evangelion is the culmination of negativity, addressing mankind's worst characteristics, RahXephon is a beacon of hope, directing attention towards the beauty of free-will.
#夢の卵
It's rare to find a show as thoroughly planned and meticulously constructed as this one. A show that doesn't try to be vague for sake of being cryptic, that doesn't attempt to be a life changing experience, but instead utilizes every tool at its disposal to tell the most detailed story it can without attempting to leave the viewer base hanging, all while receiving the necessary time to develop organically. No writer trips over their own feet in an attempt to integrate subplots that are mere sidenotes in an incomplete script. It's the consistency of the individual building blocks that elevates RahXephon to the heights it reaches throughout. Heights not many directors have managed to reach throughout TV animation history.
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