Codename: Sailor V

Created by Naoko Takeuchi.
Translated by William Flanagan.

Anyone coming to Codename: Sailor V from Sailor Moon is going to experience a certain degree of déjà vu. After all, the latter began by cannibalizing its predecessor for ideas, then simply proceeded to annex it wholeheartedly. Sailor V went into hiatus, returned after a prolonged absence, and completed its arc after Sailor Moon had already concluded. So this manga is both the defacto starting point of the Sailor Moon saga and its prequel. The reader can spot when this change occurs by the obligatory Usagi Tsukino cameo. And the rest of the inner senshi drop by at various points in their civilian identities, as the Sailor V timeline takes place well before Usagi had assumed the Sailor Moon mantle. Since all the truly epic stuff will only take place in her manga, nothing of great consequence to the cast can happen here.

This does free Sailor V to be its own thing. And what a goofy thing it is. The two manga's respective casts have often been compared to each other given that Sailor Moon recycles much of Sailor V’s character designs. Naoko Takeuchi was not the most inventive cartoonist in that regard, and it’s hard not to notice the close resemblance of everyone's faces, especially the supporting males who function primarily as interchangeable bishonen. Even the heroes Usagi and Minako Aino posses a “siblings separated at birth” similarity to them when placed side by side. On a metatextual level, that actually makes sense. Minako is the cooler, tougher, more physically capable, boisterous, and overbearing older creation who’s used to getting her own way. Even after the animal familiar Artemis unlocks Minako's mysterious superpowers and instructs her on their noble purpose, she feels just as entitled exploiting them for petty gain as she does for fighting crime. But it’s played for comic effect, so the reader simply laughs it off when Minako ignores Artemis’ admonitions by using her magic items to cheat on school homework.

Speaking of which, those two have a pretty adversarial relationship due to Minako’s total lack of interest in taking her mission seriously. Sailor Moon fans will of course be aware of the high stakes at play in the future. But at this stage, Artemis is either unable or unwilling to reveal too much to Minako outside of telling her to kick evil's butt whenever it appears. The manga hews closer in mood to the early Sailor Moon anime episodes with its monster-of-the-week structure and the arch villain still only a vague threat. Heck, the second antagonist Minako confronts is an obnoxious otaku who can’t stand that girls now hang out at his favourite video gaming spot. Wow. Nice to know that the “fake geek girl” complaint isn’t actually that recent an invention.

Two recurring plot elements are used to emphasize the action-comedy nature of the manga. The first is Minako wielding her magic to assume different disguises before revealing her Sailor V identity. It’s a trope popularized by past magical girls from Cutey Honey onward, and Minako uses it to similar effect here. Usagi dropped this tactic as Sailor Moon became more serious, but Minako simply can’t resist the desire to keep changing her appearance. Each transformation sequence works as crucial story beat. And gratuitous as that sounds, Takeuchi’s art comes alive when she’s showcasing her characters in various outfits.

These pinups are also signposts of Takeuchi’s artistic evolution. I have complained in the past about the busy page compositions of Sailor Moon, but they’re positively claustrophobic in Sailor V. Takeuchi sticks to more grid-like layouts here, and her figures have a slightly blockier look to them. It’s as if Takeuchi fears the negative space. The overall effect is frenetic, and perhaps a little inelegant. It’s only in the later chapters where she gradually drops the number of panels and gives her transformations space to breathe on the page.

The second is Minako’s propensity to keep falling in love with the wrong guy. The opening chapter has her crushing on the BMOC, who naturally turns out to be evil. She keeps fantasizing about every cute boy she meets, only for her hopes to be dashed at very turn, usually because the boy has his eye on someone else. Minako's bumbling efforts to land a beau even get lampshaded by the supporting cast. But midway through the manga her latest failed attempt ends on a more melancholic note when she helps reunite two star-crossed lovers. This prophetic incident is followed by an encounter with a masked hero named Phantom Ace. Fans will recognize him as a variant of Tuxedo Mask who prefers to toss playing cards instead of roses. Most of the remaining chapters have Minako and Ace teaming up to fight the bad guys. So does this mean she'll find true love?

Given how Minako Aino was introduced in Sailor Moon, the answer is a definite “no.” What awaits her in the final chapter instead is an unexpected escalation of hostilities. The art for the climactic showdown provokes the most drastic stylistic shift found in the entire series. Its participants begin to unleash enormous waves of energy more characteristic of Sailor Moon's world-shaking battles, which succeeds in finally warping the panels of the traditional grid. This precipitates Minako's ultimate, and excruciating transformation. But she emerges from her ordeal as a more mature Sailor Venus.

It’s a majestic scene overflowing with self-awareness, but also a peculiar downer of an ending for such a bubbly shojo adventure. Minako may have started out a typical magical girl protagonist, but during the manga’s run, she became destined to be the supporting character in someone else's love story. A happy, romantic resolution to her manga was no longer in the cards.

Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon Vol. 5

Created by Naoko Takeuchi

At the end of Sailor Moon Vol. 4, most of the Sailor Senshi, including Sailor Moon herself, were kidnapped by the evil Black Moon clan and imprisoned on Planet Nemesis. The impulsive Chibi-Usa had a run-in with arch-villain Wiseman. Things were looking pretty dim for our heroes. The first half of Vol. 5 continues this downward spiral to global annihilation. Actually, it races to its climax with the manga's typical breakneck speed. And this usually means that things can get rather chaotic before they finally settle down.

Naoko Takeuchi is not the most thorough draftsperson, and that’s a disadvantage here because this story arc could have benefited from some more fully realized backgrounds. We go from 20th century Tokyo to the 30th century Crystal Palace, to the interior of Nemesis. But the figures never seem to walk through any kind of stable environment, which can be a little disorienting. Her incessantly rushed pacing also means that the story never gets much of a breather despite a lull in the action created when the senshi return to the 20th century to recuperate. But after what feels like one short conversation, they’re pulled back to the future for their showdown with Black Moon.

This is where the Sailor Moon's art dissolves into a series of highly abstract battle scenes filled with tremendous explosions of cosmic energy and glittery screentone. The panels are as pretty to look at as they are hard to follow. Amorphous energy-based attacks aren’t the easiest thing to illustrate convincingly, and clarity was never Takeuchi’s strong suit. Some physical weight is imparted to the encounters when Nemesis suddenly materialises out of nowhere and hurls giant shards of itself onto the Earths surface. Sailor Moon fights can be a lot like Dragonball fights in that the supporting characters end up becoming hapless witnesses while the hero singlehandedly takes on the Big Bad, the former only achieving victory through attaining a higher power level. In this case it’s Sailor Moon pitting her “Legendary Silver Crystal” against Wiseman’s “Malefic Black Crystal.” Caught between the unleashing of two near-infinite power sources, the senshi can do little more than get out of the way. But it isn’t just the senshi that suffer from a lack of strong character moments. Like the Dark Kingdom from the first arc, Black Moon is casually discarded by Wiseman when victory becomes imminent. Prince Demande has a smidgen more personality than Queen Beryl. At one point he even seems to question Wiseman’s orders. But when he descends into madness after comprehending Wiseman’s truly evil nature, he becomes virtually irredeemable. And it doesn’t exactly help that the members of the Black Moon clan are thematically and visually very similar with those of the Dark Kingdom.

What keeps the Black Moon arc (The “R” arc to followers of the animated version) from becoming a boring retread of the first arc is the complicating presence of Chibi-Usa. She started out as incredibly annoying, but the creepy Freudian subtext from the last volume is made obvious here when Wiseman suffuses Chibi-Usa with his dark energies, endowing her with a sexy adult body. Chibi-Usa looks like a fetishized version of her own mother Neo-Queen Serenity (Sailor Moon’s future adult form), and the first thing she does with her newfound powers and “Black Lady” appearance is to hypnotize, capture, and seduce her eventual father Tuxedo Mask. Eeek! Thanks to her cooperation, Wiseman comes close to destroying the Earth. If Sailor Moon is to have any hope of defeating him, she has to quickly reach out to this estranged daughter from the 30th century whom she barely knows, and who also happens to be almost nine hundred years older than her despite looking and acting like a bratty kid. That’s got to be perplexing!

Even then, the tide only turns after one of the good guys commits the ultimate act of self-sacrifice by violating a most sacred taboo. This arc mentions several laws forbidding the manipulation of time but never gets around to explaining how or why those laws have been put in place. It’s best to just go with it since bending or breaking them moves the plot forward, and that last one sets up a final clash between good and evil. This action-packed volume isn't about nuance or careful world-building, but about hitting as many emotional high points as possible.

Besides, what's a time-travel story if no one in it breaks any of the rules?

Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon Vol. 4

Sailor Moon Vol. 4 continues the trend of upping the stakes begun in the last volume. With two of the Sailor Senshi kidnapped by their enemies the Black Moon, the strain on Sailor Moon (Usagi Tsukino) and the remaining senshi begins to weigh heavily on them. In the previous Dark Kingdom arc Usagi spent most of the time mooning over (pun not intended) Mamoru Chiba when he was kidnapped by Queen Beryl. But her concern here for her missing comrades' safety is felt even by friends who remain unaware of her double-life as the incarnated princess of a lost kingdom. There's a real vulnerability to Usagi that was absent in earlier volumes that tended to emphasize her "cute" shortcomings, such as her clumsiness and laziness. And even Sailor Jupiter (Makoto Kino) is treated to some brief character development that goes beyond her identity as the team's "big girl" before quickly becoming the story's next kidnap victim.

A lot of the unease is due to Usagi's antagonistic relationship with Chibi-Usa. She's the only person who openly distrusts the mysterious child's true motives, and doesn't understand why the others on the team are more willing to indulge her oddball behavior (I'm a little confused about that myself). When Chibi-Usa's latest escapade almost results in disaster for everyone, Usagi lets her have it. After all, the team's down to half-strength, the missing members could be dead for all she knows, and here's this obnoxious brat stealing her magical items and running around half-cocked. This also leads to Usagi and Mamoru's first lovers spat. Usagi resents Mamoru's affectionate interactions with Chibi-Usa. I know. Being jealous of a prepubescent girl isn't Usagi's finest moment. Late in the volume this almost gets her killed. And when Chibi-Usa reveals who she really is, the whole thing between the three acquires an even more twisted meaning. But so far, this pettiness is the most relatable emotion to come out of the series. Usagi and Mamoru do get to make up afterwards, only for creator Naoko Takeuchi to become more coy than a film director working under the Hays Code. So you'll have to decide for yourself whether they consummated their romance or not.

The big reveal of this volume (Spoiler Alert) is that Chibi-Usa and the Black Moon are from the future, where everything was fine until the Black Moon decided to take over the world and invade the past. So everyone gets to travel to the future and meet a new senshi, Sailor Pluto. What can I say. It wasn't that long ago when Pluto was stripped of its planet label. Whatever. For the needs of this series, Sailor Pluto is the guardian of the underworld (patterned after her mythical namesake) and this apparently makes her the guardian of time as well. So I guess we'll be seeing more for her. The whole time travel trope generates a new wrinkle on the series love vs. fate theme. Before, Usagi and Mamoru worried about repeating the past. Now they worry about whether the future is written in stone. Actually their future selves turn out alright. But the future in general is another thing altogether.

You know how you're supposed to believe that Bedford Falls is a hunky-dory place, while Pottersville is its undesirable doppleganger, but deep in your heart you find the former to be utterly drab and would prefer to hang out at the nightclubs of the latter? Future Tokyo is even more uninteresting than that sleepy American town, resembling Krypton from Richard Donner's Superman. It's an advanced, stable society where everyone is near-immortal. It's meant to be seen as a utopia. But it feels sterile. This future is seen mainly through the eyes of Chibi-Usa, who turns out to be a princess. She should be happy. It's apparent that she's a spoiled child. But she's downright miserable, subverting the classic princess fantasy. Living in the shadow of her charismatic mother. Not exhibiting any of the supernatural abilities that are her royal birthright and being teased mercilessly for it. And worse of all, stunted in her physical growth so that she has inexplicably remained a little girl for nine hundred years. Her existence sounds like a child's worst nightmare. And this revelation transforms her from a very unlikeable character into a truly pitiable figure. Why hasn't she joined the Black Moon and tried to overthrow the status quo?

Here's one explanation: The rebel leader Prince Demande is a creep. Aside from the mass murder he carries out in both the present and the future, he constantly threatens Chibi-Usa's life, forces himself on a helpless Usagi, and calls himself "prince" like it actually means something. His villainous grandstanding makes the previous wannabe-royal Queen Beryl look like a decent human being. Whatever moral ambiguity that could arise in other parts of the book is replaced by the simple desire to see someone kick this guy's ass. Unfortunately, that will have to take place in future volumes.

Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon Vol. 3

It's only vol.3 of the Sailor Moon manga series, and it's already arrived at a definite conclusion to the initial "Dark Kingdom" story arc. Because of the newer publishing format being used by the Kodansha editions, this volume contains the conclusion of the first arc and moves without pause onto the second story arc. It's kind of an odd arrangement, but there you go. Did I mention that this manga is quickly paced?

And wow, this is quite a third act, and would have made a fitting end to the manga had it been cancelled at this point. Half the book is taken up by the final showdown between the Sailor Senshi and what's left of the Dark Kingdom, which includes the series Big Bad, Queen Metalia. It's a knock-down, drag-out affair that moves from Tokyo to the Arctic Circle, and spills copious amounts of blood and gore, or as much gore as Naoko Takeuchi's art is willing to make explicit. Both important characters and many innocent people die. And the fate of the world hangs in the balance. And yet the war ends happily, at least for the good guys. Despite the sense of impending doom that began earlier in the series, the heroes do learn to avoid rehashing the tragic results of the ancient past, therefore managing to defy fate. There's even a hint that the evil henchmen, the corrupted Four Generals of Prince Endymion (aka Mamoru Chiba), are in some way redeemed through self-sacrifice. And the end marks the apotheosis of Usagi Tsukino. As the story's principal wish-fulfillment character, her triumph symbolizes the point when she graduates from reluctant hero to full-fledged leader and warrior-queen of a new Moon Kingdom.

This is an entertaining and empowering fantasy that the comics industry could stand to use more of. But I will admit to feeling a little dissatisfied with the arc. Mind you, I am not, nor have I ever been a member of the manga's target demographic. So this a bit nitpicky on my part. But as a reader I didn't find Usagi's evolution from goofy teenager to a more confident figure to be completely organic. Rather, it felt more like she was following a series of steps in order to upgrade to "hero" status. The schematic nature of her character development also applies to the plot as a whole. Maybe Takeuchi's uniformly quick pacing may have hurt the story a bit.

Takeuchi's art also continues to be a bit awkward. Personally, I love it on it's own merits. Her lines are elegant, the designs are slick and appealing, the poses are cute, and the Sailor Senshi look feminine while still appearing tough and heroic. It doesn't look like typical shojo manga. But her tendency to crowd the page with small, detailed, and occasionally borderless panels can often make the storytelling seem random and muddled. And sometimes her figures' physical movements don't quite convey the proper weight and direction. A key moment which supposably turns the tide of battle left me a little confused on the first reading as to what exactly just happened to Usagi and Mamoru.

The next arc, which comprises the bulk of the anime's Sailor Moon R season, initially proceeds as quickly as the first. It introduces new character Chibi-Usa, named because she looks like a chibi variant of Usagi. And lo and behold, she's just as annoying to some fans as her namesake. Not surprising given that soon after literally dropping from the sky onto Usagi's head, she points a gun at her, then later forces Usagi's family into letting her cohabit with them through hypnosis. She's a brat. But she's also a frightened girl who hides a secret that weighs heavily on her. Her appearance coincides with that of a new antagonist. There's an undeniable repetitiveness to the villains, as they're also another mysterious kingdom looking to reestablish their "splendid history" by forcefully acquiring the Legendary Silver Crystal, led by another sinister entity. Takeuchi's approach to keeping the series fresh is to upgrade the bad guys. They're definitely more ruthless. They don't start out with the M.O. of hypnotizing the population and draining their life force. They're fully capable of murder. And when they learn of the existence of the Sailor Senshi, they target them directly and attempt to kidnap them, one by one.

So yeah, the second arc is a variation on a theme. Or a formula if you prefer. But I get the sense that Takeuchi seems to be getting better at, or at very least is making an effort to master the pieces she's assembled. And in the end, aren't most long-running fantasy series about overmatched heroes facing a succession of increasingly ludicrous foes over a progressively grander scale? At this point, I'm still curious to see how things will turn out.

Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon Vol. 2

Sailor Moon Vol. 1 was primarily a team-building effort, with the Sailor Senshi engaged in a defensive campaign against an enemy they didn't know.  It's not unusual for many long-running manga series to dole out information in small chunks in order to preserve the intrigue. But Naoko Takeuchi keeps up the relatively quick pace. With Vol. 2, the number of pitched battles are cut down slightly to allow for a rapid succession of earth-shattering revelations that by the end of the book supply the broad outlines of the scope of a war being fought, and the destiny of its protagonists. As a result, Vol. 2 is highly overwrought, as what is at stake is no less than the survival of the entire planet.

At the center of this cosmic struggle is the thwarted romance between Usagi Tsukino and Mamoru Chiba. The story picks up right where it left of, with the two finally confronting each other about their respective secret identities. What initially looked to be a case of simple teenage infatuation turns out to be something that has already managed to survive death and endured for ages. The significance of this doesn't go unnoticed by the series villains, the Dark Kingdom. So they go about abducting Mamoru and turning him into one of their agents. This is seen as a major catastrophe by Usagi and the Senshi not just for the obvious personal reasons, but also for reasons having to do with the story's cosmology. For evil's influence is both pernicious and irreversible. The present warring parties are basically reincarnated versions locked into repeating an ancient pattern. And the lone attempt to defy fate comes from an evil henchman momentarily shaking off the influence of his masters, only to have the evil poured right back into him.

The volume is also notable for the introduction of Sailor Venus, the often mentioned Sailor V playable character of the video game. Unlike the genki girl found in her own series, Minako Aino joins the team as the serious-minded and battle-hardened veteran. There seems to be a bit of retconning taking place in order to make the original Sailor V concept mesh better with Sailor Moon. This involves some narrative sleight-of-hand over who is the actual lost princess of the Moon Kingdom and the location of the legendary crystal. Both issues are quickly and cleverly resolved, and the team is finally complete. This shifts the focus to directly confronting the attacks of an increasingly bold and reckless Dark Kingdom

In the end, Vol. 2 serves as quite a contrast from the more straightforward Vol. 1. The melodrama, supplied backstory, expansion of the conflict, more intense battles, and the introduction of a more fatalistic undertone, all add up to an emotionally draining story. If there's a weakness to the approach of putting a series of obstacles in order to block Usagi/Mamoru's relationship, it's that the plot mechanics have upstaged character development, especially that of the other Senshi. But the volume ends with a suitable enough cliffhanger, with Mamoru's fate in the balance.

Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon Vol. 1

My first exposure to the Sailor Moon anime in the nineties triggered a bit of a nostalgic reaction. This is because I grew up watching Super Sentai shows like Gorenger, well before the genre was exported Stateside and significantly altered to become the Power Rangers franchise. Nowadays, thanks to the wonders of YouTube, I can recall some of those long-forgotten forgotten episodes. This also means that I can't get that damn theme song sung by seiyu Isao Sasaki and Mitsuko Horie out of my head. But I digress. I don't know how many of the ideas behind the Sailor V and Sailor Moon manga came from the mind of creator Naoko Takeuchi, or of her editors. But both are a clever mashup of Super Sentai and the Magical Girl genre, revitalizing and updating them for a younger Japanese audience while serving as a kind of touchstone for older readers. But outside of Japan, Sailor Moon is seen in many quarters as kickstarting the international craze for anime and manga. Most Americans would not have been fully aware of Sailor Moon's pop culture lineage. Only that it was something weird, wonderful, and very different. Heroine Usagi Tsukino and the Sailor Senshi were not Disney princesses. They may have been sweet and feminine. But they still kicked butt! They opened-up the manga market to a whole new demographic. And after a long absence, the manga is back.

For the people who have been living under a rock for the last twenty years, Sailor Moon is the story of a fourteen year old girl named Usagi and her Sailor Senshi allies protecting the Earth from evil with their mystical powers. Unlike their Sentai counterparts who wore form-fitting, full body uniforms which were color-coded for each member, they wear clothes inspired by sailor fuku. That's the visual element that informs the series, meant to appeal to both Japanese girls and boys. Admittedly, some of the boys probably like it for more skeevy reasons. But there's no doubt that the look has become an enduring iconic image. So how did the Sailor Senshi get started? In a manner similar to most magical girl stories. A mysterious talking cat named Luna runs into Usagi, tells her that she's a magical guardian who has to find and protect the princess from a long lost kingdom, gather her fellow warriors, and search for a mysterious crystal that's the key to ruling the universe. Or something like that. Usagi will be the first to admit that she's not exactly hero material. And she blunders her way through her first mission. She's actually rather grating at the beginning. But not to worry. It isn't long before the other Senshi appear to lend her a hand.

Those only familiar with the anime will be surprised at how quickly the manga moves to assemble its principal cast. At times the pace feels hectic. There's plenty of room yet to flesh out the characters. But for now, each of the Senshi are portrayed in a recognizable shorthand. There's the braniac, the psychic, the tall one, and the crybaby. Other shojo tropes are used to further delineate them. While the Senshi are represented by astrological signs, their evil counterparts are long-haired bishonen named after precious stones. As for the bad guys themselves, their methods mostly involve sneakily draining the population of their life force. But their ultimate motivations remain a big mystery. The matter isn't helped by Luna's strangely obtuse statements. Then there's Usagi's would-be love interest Tuxedo Mask, whose reasons for aiding her remain unclear even to himself. By the end of this volume, a lot of things are still very much up in the air.

Compounding the breezy pace of the story are the fight scenes, which are short and mostly devoid of graphic violence. They typically commence with some posing, a hearty battle cry, followed by the discharging of exotic forms of energy. When someone looses, they usually get vaporized. In contrast to the conventional Sentai or shonen battle sequence, there isn't any elaborate exchange of increasingly ludicrous weapons/techniques/tactics, or a dramatic turning point when someone's defenses are finally penetrated. This is a shojo title. A person's belief in themselves, or in the power of love is what determines their ability to crush their enemies. Takeuchi's style may not be as intricate or "pretty" as that of later shojo artists. Her page layouts can often be crowded. And at this early stage of the series, she's still working out her character designs. But she already succeeds in illustrating the qualities of inner strength and beauty found in her protagonists.

Even after all this time, the series particular mix of princess-based fantasy and feminist sensibilities still continues to distinguish it from the content found in many other highly successful commercial manga. So it's great to see it's return to the English-speaking market.

Something Old Something Classic

I saw the new Iron Man motion picture recently, and I actually enjoyed it. Most of it had to do with the light touch applied to the plot. Most recent comic book film adaptations have tried to imbue their subject matter with a certain gravitas: The hero is encumbered by a tragic past, has some kind of identity crisis, or is on some kind of quest for revenge. Usually there's some tedious moralizing that accompanies the story. Not that this movie doesn't have a message, or that Tony Stark doesn't have a sense of purpose. Those are staples of the genre. It just doesn't dwell on those bits. There's this unavoidable geopolitical element arising from Stark's career as an arms dealer. And he goes through a conversion experience that leads him to try to rid the world of war, or at least try not to add to it. But incessantly hammering the anti-war message would only heighten the contradictions built into the story. It's about a guy who tries to end war by building the coolest weapon in his private workshop (It's great to be rich). Still the simplistic message has obvious resonance for Americans looking for easy answers. Just don't look at the film too closely.

Then there's the the anti-corporate populist stance presented. Obadiah Shane is the typical evil capitalist who puts the bottom-line before ethical considerations. He berates Tony for not giving his personal creation to Stark Enterprises so the company could profit from it. The irony of the message (no pun intended) comes from the fact that the Iron Man character is a corporate property owned by Marvel, but was the creation of individuals like Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, Don Heck and Larry Lieber working in the 60s. They gave up the rights to their creation to the publisher, and Stan Lee gets to have cameos on all the films.

I also finished watching The early 90s Cutey Honey OVA. I haven't had much prior exposure to this particular Go Nagai creation. This is the Japanese equivalent of a project meant to attract older fanboys, only without the continuity-porn and shared universes that plague American superhero comics. I didn't have to watch the 70s anime or read the manga to see that the OVA was basically a homage to those earlier works. A popular argument in favor of the appeal of Japanese comics is that creator ownership has meant that serials eventually end. But if you're like Nagai, turning your creations into successful ongoing franchises is a perfectly sensible option. Cutey Honey is one of those long-lived properties that has never been successfully transplanted to the English-speaking world. It's a bit too classic for most younger western anime fans. From what I understand she is the original transforming superhero of manga. While transformation is used by some American characters (The original Captain Marvel to name the earliest precedent), transformation has become a staple in tokusatsu and magical girl stories. The transformations in Cutey Honey work on one level as empowering fantasies, and on another as voyeuristic entertainment. Every new form is supposed to imbue Honey with new abilities, and she clearly revels in every one of them. But like most superhero costume changes, they seem more aesthetic than functional. That's the fun part of the anime. No two transformation sequences are the same. They're drawn exquisitely with an obvious sexual component.

This is more about exploiting the character's retro charm than about storytelling. The plot is pretty weak. An arch villain is introduced in episode one, but is defeated halfway through the series. The rest of the OVA is composed of disconnected episodes that leave the narrative arc unresolved. Perhaps there were plans for future episodes that never came through. There's definitely a decline in animation quality towards the end. Whatever the case, it feels incomplete. But as someone who grew up watching late 70s anime, the sustained use of a generally light tone and the refusal to update a classic character, or inject adolescent angst and Freudian analysis is much appreciated.