10.16
I’m not sure this is a “review” so much as an opinion piece – however, I think it counts. Be warned that it contains major spoilers and probably should not be read until you’ve watched the series to completion. Or if you don’t care. That works too.
When the first episode initially aired, I immediately assumed this would be one of the most celebrated anime titles of the year. It sported a fantastic, unique look coordinated by Takeshi Koike of Redline fame, excellent jazz music produced by Shinichiro Watanabe (you know, the Cowboy Bebop guy), and, well… it’s freakin’ Lupin III! A legendary, classic franchise upheld as one of the best by young and old alike! How could it possibly go under the radar? Who knows. But it did. Apparently this series was overlooked by just about everyone, and – from what I hear – only got an official English release because Sonny Strait begged for it. Thanks, man!
The Woman Called Fujiko Mine is a prequel/possible reboot to the beloved Lupin III franchise. It ostensibly focuses on the back story of – you guessed it – Fujiko Mine, the sexy femme fatale who often seems to outmaneuver everyone’s favorite master thief (that’s Lupin III, for those keeping score), though it also delves into her earliest encounters with Lupin, Jigen, Goemon, and Zenigata. While Goemon’s characterization on the whole is pretty weak, as are the two installments featuring him as a central character, the episodic adventures in the first half of the series are as hilarious and fun-filled as Lupin fans have come to expect – albeit a lot more R-rated than in previous anime. This is the first animated Lupin offering to truly capture the tone of Monkey Punch’s original manga, which is notoriously more “hardcore” than the previous anime series and movies. However, the latter part of Fujiko Mine takes a turn for the darker and more plot-oriented, and that’s where it truly gets brilliant.
Many of the middle episodes are interspersed with psychedelic scenes of owl men raping and torturing a young girl. They’re extremely disturbing and often hard to watch, even more so with the accompanying experimental soundtrack comprised almost entirely of weird noises. Eventually, the audience discovers that these are actually repressed memories of Fujiko’s. Apparently, her childhood was fraught with human experimentation, physical and sexual abuse, and owl men. Lots of owl men. But wait, you say! Doesn’t this completely ruin her character? Isn’t she supposed to be a strong woman who does whatever she wants, whenever she wants? Why can’t she just be a cool, sultry thief because she wants to be? Well, I’m glad you asked, because…
It’s all a ruse. The memories don’t belong to her. Back during the war (WW2?), Count Luis Yu Almeida (leader of the owl men cult), had many horrifying hypnosis experiments performed on a bunch of young girls in hopes of creating the perfect sex slave for himself. His favorite of them, Aisha, endured the worst of it, consistently, for years upon years until Almeida finally died. Twisted by the unending torture, she now gets her jollies by kidnapping women and using the same hypnosis experiments to imprint her memories of suffering upon them, afterward releasing them back into the wild to watch how they react. One of these people was Fujiko; however, being the capable badass that she is, the memories were immediately repressed and she was able to continue life as normal. Her exploits amused Aisha for a time (via video cameras placed literally everywhere… somehow), but then she got annoyed seeing Fujiko rob people and use sex to her advantage without reprieve, so she decided to forcefully trigger horrific flashbacks in an attempt to make Fujiko break down and give up. Indeed, Aisha likes the women she watches on TV to be independent… but not too independent.
You see, The Woman Called Fujiko Mine isn’t really a story about Fujiko’s past at all; it’s actually a commentary on the portrayal of women in anime (and other forms of entertainment). Aisha’s reasoning mimics that of men who want to see strong women in their anime… but not too strong! Oh yeah, they can kick ass and sleep around all they want, but only if they have some sort of tragic – and probably rape-filled – history to back it up. I’ve seen this argument many times before: women are only allowed to be independent and sexually liberated if they’re “broken,” their feminine demureness whittled away by years of abuse. It’s utter bullshit, and this series very elaborately calls that out. The entire major story arc of Fujiko Mine is basically a big “fuck you” to the poor and disrespectful way in which so many female characters are written, and I absolutely love it. Now, certainly not every anime or TV show follows this line of reasoning, but a hell of a lot of them do. Calling out this horrible trend of writing has been a long time coming, and I’m glad someone finally did it.
Furthermore, episode 9 is all about the objectification of women in the media. In it, a deranged artist has kept a young woman as his slave since birth, and used her body as a canvas for his art. She is incapable of speech and exists only to be gawked at, then is actually auctioned off to leering men for money. It’s not subtle, but it hits home, and makes for a damn fine satirical piece when mixed with the expected Lupin III hijinks.
Outside of the aforementioned Goemon episodes, I have little to no issues with anything in this anime. While many have complained about the character of Oscar, I honestly had no problems with his inclusion, and found his storyline in episode 11 to be fairly well-done. Some have referred to the ending as anti-climactic, but that makes me think they missed the point it was trying to make, and probably aren’t even Lupin fans. The Woman Called Fujiko Mine is an underrated gem; it’s uniquely attractive, alternately fun and disturbing, and utterly brilliant at its core. It’s worth a look even if you aren’t familiar with the Lupin III franchise, and doubly so if you are. I hope we get a red jacket series with the same kind of art style and music soon.