n the near-future of Gasaraki, technological advances in Japan have made bipedal, armored mecha-suits newly viable as weapons. Yushiro Gowa, scion of the rich and powerful family who spearheaded the Tactical Armor project, is one of the most talented first-generation TA pilots. He's also the puppet of a shadow group that wants to use his exceptional physiological talents in a strange experiment. Eight years ago, a previous experiment involving a traditional dance called the Gasara caused a spatial and gravitational distortion, apparently opening a singularity that served as a portal to another place. Yushiro's manipulators are determined to repeat this experiment and open communication with something on the other side. Their first attempt is partially successful, but as the portal begins to open, Yushiro makes psychic contact with a woman who mentally attacks him and who is then pulled out of their link, shouting "You've got to stop! Don't bring it back--the terror!" Gowa breaks off the dance, choosing not to explain his reasons, and begins to nurse a quiet obsession about the woman from his vision.
Meanwhile, a massive explosion in the Third World country of Belgistan convinces the United States that the small republic is secretly building weapons of mass destruction. The U.N. sends in a multinational investigative force, which immediately takes the offensive and is met with violent force.
The Japanese TA cabal, recognizing the mysterious explosion as a sign that Belgistan is conducting experiments similar to theirs, pushes the Japanese Special Self-Defense Force to send the TAs into Belgistan, where Yushiro can be tested in battle and possibly confront the authors of the Belgistan experiment.
The cabal's motives seem hazier when it becomes clear that Symbol, the Belgistan group, has Tactical Armors of their own. And one of their pilots is the girl Yushiro encountered during his dance. By the beginning of the second volume of this series, the nature of the Japanese cabal is finally clear, but these seven episodes raise a lot more questions than they offer answers.
Passport to a land of confusion
Watching Gasaraki is like trying to assemble an extraordinarily complex and pretty puzzle. The central story is dispensed in tiny, oblique driblets between mecha battles and news broadcasts that present the outsider's view of events. It can be difficult to follow the story as it jumps between one unidentified mystery group and the next, particularly when the cabals seem to be inhabiting different genres. The logical leap between ultra-realistic war footage, horror-movie images of a naked woman wrapped in wires and organic webbing, and stylized Noh dance routines is fairly vast, and Gasaraki skips between them without regard to context or continuity. The information that does leak out of the early episodes comes from fragmentary conversations between unidentified people; every word is relevant, but it may take several viewings to understand why.
It may also take a few viewings to get over the immediate infatuation with the smooth, richly painted animation. In keeping with the fragmentary narrative style, many scenes in the first few episodes are half-glimpsed through negating filters: pixelated computer screens and binoculars, hazy trance visions, obscuring waves of smoke and sand, the eyeholes of a mask, the lens of a moving camera. These tantalizingly occluded images are linked by mundane talking-head shots and solid, almost photorealistic scenes of tanks and mecha battling; the contrast, as with the disjointed story, is both distracting and hypnotic. It's easy to come away from a first viewing with a strong sense of weight, motion, light and shadow, and very little sense of the plot that links them. Still, it's disappointing when later episodes edge into a more conventional visual and narrative style.
Gasaraki is often compared to Neon Genesis Evangelion, for obvious reasons--the queasy blend of hard science and horror tropes, the jumbled, enigmatic story, the central figure of a quiet genius manipulated by events and his family, looking for keys to his own identity. So far, Gasaraki beats out Evangelion for mystery, complexity and beauty. But it's not for all tastes, nor does it support casual viewing.
Just watching is pleasant but frustrating; struggling for understanding is gratifying, but may involve more work than many fans want to devote to their fun.
