n earlier episodes of
Battle Athletes: Victory, Akari Kanzaki faced her own cowardice and
began to learn how to live up to her heritage. As the only daughter of the
most famous athlete in history, she had a great deal of potential but
lacked the will to act on it. Even when she made up her mind to stop
cringing and start competing in earnest, she was still motivated more by
one friend's shared ambition than by her own desire.
But as the series continues, Akari unexpectedly loses that friend and
is immediately overwhelmed with self-doubt. It takes an unexpected boost
from yet another outside source to bring her back into the running in her
school's fervent competition. At the last minute, her natural prowess
propels her to the top of her class, and she qualifies for a coveted spot
aboard University Satellite. She and two of her Earthside classmates head
into orbit confidently, only to find that the competition in space is more
fierce than they'd imagined.
As if that wasn't bad enough, one of Akari's new teammates is a flaky
mystic, and the other is a quailing wallflower who'd rather cook than train for
the upcoming trials. Akari, once clutchy and desperately dependent on
others, has to become a leader and whip her new friends into shape or risk
flunking out of university. The kindly, mysterious headmaster seems willing
to help, as does melodramatic trainer "Mr. Miracle." But halfhearted
efforts and good intentions are worthless against dedicated star athletes
like the emotionless school front-runner Lahrri, and her feral, semi-sane
competitor Mylandah. Akari and her new friends each have to figure out
whether they're willing to fight to win--and if so, why.
Sociological studies and big-eyed girls
Battle Athletes: Victory is a constant revelation. Despite its
video-game origin and predictable plot pattern (Akari doubts herself and
fails, Akari becomes inspired and succeeds, repeat as needed), the series
remains an unusually complex examination of the psychological underpinnings
of competition. Each character has a different motivation, ranging from
religious inspiration to personal ambition. The story focuses on each of
them in turn to see how their beliefs hold up under pressure, and what
happens to their minds and their will when those beliefs are thwarted.
The slapstick element is still a constant hovering presence,
particularly in the person of Mr. Miracle, a wrecked shell of a man who
emits grandiose platitudes and clings to life by scarfing vast quantities
of chocolate. But the more serious themes continually push the joking
aside as characters crack from the strain, accede gracefully to defeat, or
push themselves harder. The cast from the original video animation series (which told a
much-curtailed version of this same story) is present, but they're very
different people here, with more complex backgrounds and unexpected
aspects. Some of the plot twists from the OVA have been lost, but the
deeper storyline makes this a much more engaging and rewarding
experience.
It's not always easy to tell what the series' creators are trying to
communicate. At times, Akari's constant success over better trained, more
focused athletes seems like an argument for eugenics; her genetic heritage
is repeatedly venerated and her last-minute successes speak for themselves.
At other times, determination rather than breeding seems to be the order of
the day. Either way, the series sometimes seems like a sociological text
with big-eyed girls engaging in futuristic sports tacked on as an
afterthought. But that's still a lot more interesting than the mindless
action of most video-game-to-movie adaptations.
