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krpalmerAnnouncements there would be an adaptation of the Scott Pilgrim comics animated in Japan provoked some “now that takes me back” feelings. The original comics had been on one of my bookshelves for quite some time, but I can’t remember having read them since they’d been completed and the live-action movie adaptation had come out. Nevertheless, the thought of another chance to revisit the story was a bit appealing. I did wonder a bit about the follow-up announcement that much of the cast of the live-action movie would be returning as voice actors, remembering that old impression Michael Cera’s voice had been absurdly mild compared to my impression from the comics of Scott Pilgrim as a loud individual.
The animation showed up on Netflix, but before I could quite start watching it I saw some complaints that while it had been promoted as “an adaptation,” it moved away from the established storyline and its title character in short order. I have to admit, though, to not just thinking “this could address my old thoughts about Cera’s voice,” but also recalling even older impressions of having read the first volume of the comics and thinking midway through it “now this is a ‘just hanging around, nothing much happening’ comic I can get into,” before all of a sudden “you have to defeat my seven evil ex-boyfriends before we can be a real couple” became obvious. That thought, though, then got me thinking I ought to read the comics again before confronting myself with something that had diverged from them. It didn’t take that long (or even backing off on the manga I was already reading, new volumes of which have been available in such profusion as to make it hard to “go back” to anything for years) until I’d got through all six volumes of Scott Pilgrim. There were a few unfortunate thoughts starting off that the first volume was almost twenty years old by now, and the twentysomething characters hanging around in Toronto had me thinking of all of the complaints about how expensive it is to live in that city now. Still, the energy of things did wind up pulling me in and through much quicker than it had taken the comics to be drawn and published in the first place. I hadn’t remembered Scott’s sister Stacey before, but found an odd appeal to her character design now. Starting off I had been a little aware the beginning of the comics remained more distinct in my memory than their conclusion, but here and now I was content.
Starting Scott Pilgrim Takes Off itself at last, I did note with brief amusement how the enigmatic potential girlfriend Ramona Flowers had changed from a rollerblading delivery person for amazon.ca to a rollerblading delivery person for what Netflix’s now-discontinued DVD-by-mail service. Where I’d wondered about the more obvious “point of divergence” amounting to “Scott said he’d show up; I don’t know where he’s gone,” things were rather more blatant there. At that point I was aware I’d abandoned the apparent safety of “you’re already familiar with this story,” but I did find myself developing a silly grin soon enough. Most of the “evil ex-boyfriends” did get more development than their previous role in the story had allowed for, although I suppose Toronto did seem a bit more generic than the comics had got away with. I’d happened to notice other people being amused at a “Bubblegum Crisis reference,” and got to wondering if it had been so quick and subtle I’d missed it before it showed up and was rather obvious. At that point I started wondering what someone unfamiliar with the anime OVAs (which were already fading into the past when the comic started, although if Bryan Lee O’Malley, who’s a few years younger than I am, had started getting into anime in high school he could easily have known about them then) would have made of it, although I did end up thinking they’d likely be able to see some sort of joke at that moment. The biggest question I was left with about this animation was the tricky feeling “now when it’s based on North American comics that merely drew a certain amount of inspiration from manga and anime, can I really just say ‘anime?’” (The flashback moment in the comics where Envy Adams had sold her anime collection as part of changing from “merely ordinary” to “a star” had tempted just a thought or two of “now this proves she’s not altogether good.”) I at least had a few hopes this was more a matter of “an animated series doesn’t have to be ‘made for a primary audience of Japanese people, preferably with Japanese people in every major production role’ to be impressive” rather than trying to keep any sort of “gate” secured. As I saw it kept being mentioned in an Anime News Network judgment of the season, though, I did remind myself I hadn’t had any problems putting Cyberpunk Edgerunners among “anime” when I’d been unfamiliar with its source material.
The animation showed up on Netflix, but before I could quite start watching it I saw some complaints that while it had been promoted as “an adaptation,” it moved away from the established storyline and its title character in short order. I have to admit, though, to not just thinking “this could address my old thoughts about Cera’s voice,” but also recalling even older impressions of having read the first volume of the comics and thinking midway through it “now this is a ‘just hanging around, nothing much happening’ comic I can get into,” before all of a sudden “you have to defeat my seven evil ex-boyfriends before we can be a real couple” became obvious. That thought, though, then got me thinking I ought to read the comics again before confronting myself with something that had diverged from them. It didn’t take that long (or even backing off on the manga I was already reading, new volumes of which have been available in such profusion as to make it hard to “go back” to anything for years) until I’d got through all six volumes of Scott Pilgrim. There were a few unfortunate thoughts starting off that the first volume was almost twenty years old by now, and the twentysomething characters hanging around in Toronto had me thinking of all of the complaints about how expensive it is to live in that city now. Still, the energy of things did wind up pulling me in and through much quicker than it had taken the comics to be drawn and published in the first place. I hadn’t remembered Scott’s sister Stacey before, but found an odd appeal to her character design now. Starting off I had been a little aware the beginning of the comics remained more distinct in my memory than their conclusion, but here and now I was content.
Starting Scott Pilgrim Takes Off itself at last, I did note with brief amusement how the enigmatic potential girlfriend Ramona Flowers had changed from a rollerblading delivery person for amazon.ca to a rollerblading delivery person for what Netflix’s now-discontinued DVD-by-mail service. Where I’d wondered about the more obvious “point of divergence” amounting to “Scott said he’d show up; I don’t know where he’s gone,” things were rather more blatant there. At that point I was aware I’d abandoned the apparent safety of “you’re already familiar with this story,” but I did find myself developing a silly grin soon enough. Most of the “evil ex-boyfriends” did get more development than their previous role in the story had allowed for, although I suppose Toronto did seem a bit more generic than the comics had got away with. I’d happened to notice other people being amused at a “Bubblegum Crisis reference,” and got to wondering if it had been so quick and subtle I’d missed it before it showed up and was rather obvious. At that point I started wondering what someone unfamiliar with the anime OVAs (which were already fading into the past when the comic started, although if Bryan Lee O’Malley, who’s a few years younger than I am, had started getting into anime in high school he could easily have known about them then) would have made of it, although I did end up thinking they’d likely be able to see some sort of joke at that moment. The biggest question I was left with about this animation was the tricky feeling “now when it’s based on North American comics that merely drew a certain amount of inspiration from manga and anime, can I really just say ‘anime?’” (The flashback moment in the comics where Envy Adams had sold her anime collection as part of changing from “merely ordinary” to “a star” had tempted just a thought or two of “now this proves she’s not altogether good.”) I at least had a few hopes this was more a matter of “an animated series doesn’t have to be ‘made for a primary audience of Japanese people, preferably with Japanese people in every major production role’ to be impressive” rather than trying to keep any sort of “gate” secured. As I saw it kept being mentioned in an Anime News Network judgment of the season, though, I did remind myself I hadn’t had any problems putting Cyberpunk Edgerunners among “anime” when I’d been unfamiliar with its source material.