Good for you. It was also my introduction and I found it so boring I almost didn't bother with the VN because I assumed it would be just as bad (and, to be fair, in some ways it is). And that was back in 06 when my standards were fairly low.
I just want to be clear I am not a VN purist who was just mad the adaptation is not as good as the original. That was also my introduction and I found it dreadful.
Well, you have the right to your opinion, I suppose, but I don't really see how FSN is any more boring than anything else in the franchise. I've shown it to anime-watching friends in the past, and never got any complaints. But getting into details on why you don't like it or why I disliked certain other--seemingly well-regarded by fans--works in the franchise enough to quit watching halfway through would be spoilers, so we should probably drop this.
Alexander says that no one can ever really understand or respect a martyr. No one wants to be like that. No one can really look up to that.
The funniest thing about it is that Alexandr isn't just (supposedly) coming from Greece (Macedonia, but still). He comes from Ελλάδα.
Μολὼν λαβέ, Ελλάδα, the first true unification of independent Greek city-states for a common goal that was forged in the Persian invasion.
Before Leonidas, there were two cultural heroes in the greek society for young men to aspire to - Hector and Achilles. Hector was a tragic figure, a young man who had reasons to live, but who was destined to die. He didn't have a choice but to protect his city, even if it is futile. Achilles, when he went to war, was promised "riches, glory and death" - and he took on the offer without thinking. The perfect hoplite and mercenary.
And then came Persians. And then Leonidas took the barebone military force (essentially his guard) + slaves and joined the war that so far did not concern him.
Why not take more men with him? "Too many for the enterprise on which we going". He knows that he is going to his death. His city is not in danger, he is protecting some shitty city-state far away, the one with which they were waging war regularly. He is young and strong, he has a family and a position of a king, he has reasons to live and there is nothing to be gained from this battle - except Ελλάδα. From the old greek point of view, this is pure madness. It breaks the behavioral and cultural model.
The original tropmaker of martyrdom, folks, - Leonidas. The guy whose cultural representation gave birth to greek protonationalism and "to the battlefield they came as Spartans, Athenians and city_nians, but left it as Έλληνες.
The new ideology, that real Alexandr later used, his casus belli for the conquest was "to avenge those who died in Persian invasion a hundred years ago". He knew that story. He made his campaign and leadership bid around it.
Damn it, Urobuchi. "No one can really look up to" the single most revered figure in the greek culture other than Alexandr himself, my ass.
Christianity did not invent martyrs. (To be honest, it didn't invent pretty much anything, only combined existing things).
Probably another Arturia and Irisviel focused episode, going by the title. We shall see.
Alexander the Great dreams about the day his army reached the Indian Ocean, and his first time seeing the ocean in its immensity. Symbolizing something I'm sure, but we won't find out until later in the episode! When he wakes up, Waver tells him that they're going to take a break from Gilles-hunting and go see the amusement district downtown. Apparently, Alexander has been asking him for a chance to do that.
Alexander happily declares that the joy of window-shopping in a foreign land is every bit as glorious as the joy of defeating your enemies in battle. Because of course he does, lol. In response, and for the first time thus far, Waver makes a criticism of Alexander's outlook that isn't transparently selfish.
That's kind of a surprising sentiment, coming from Waver. He basically did the same thing to the elderly Japanese family they're staying with that Alexander did to those countries, and for the same motivation (personal glory and bragging rights, either as a world conqueror or a victor of the Grail War). Is he starting to develop a conscience, or does he literally just not see the hypocrisy?
Alexander asks him why he's only voicing objections to the rightness of conquest now, when he never seemed to have any before. He doesn't call out the mind control home invasion thing specifically, but it's sort of implied. Waver just falls silent for a moment and tells Alexander to forget it, he was just thinking out loud. Hmm. Yeah, seeing what he's recently seen is starting to make Waver do introspection, I think. Hopefully the author won't flub this the way he did the previous moral conversations, but, well, we'll see.
...
Hmm. Rejecting the spoils of conquest and domination actually gives the title another layer of meaning. So maybe that is where this is going, a refutation of the cringey scenes in the previous two eps.
Then again, I'm not sure if fucking Waver being able to make a coherent pro-social argument when two experienced, educated adults both failed would make this story less stupid, or more.
...
After the intro, we jump over to Gilles and Uwu returning to the lair of theirs in the sewers that Alexander and Waver destroyed a few episodes ago, and being unhappy with what they see. Uwu collapses to his knees in tears, asking what kind of monster could have possibly done something like this. Gilles is also crestfallen, but he's taking it better than Uwu, and has to cheer him up with a little pep talk.
Okay, after the previous two episodes' seemingly serious failed attempts at philosophy, watching these two being ridiculously, cartoonishly, comically evil and insane is kind of a breath of fresh air.
All of Gilles' talk of spiting god has put Uwu in a religious frame of mind, it seems, as he wonders if perhaps the universe is punishing them for having too much fun. Gilles cautions him against that kind of reciprocity-based thinking, and tells him part of his own story. For the final eight years of his life, Gilles committed his murders and atrocities with wild abandon, and there was never any pushback. When he finally met his end, it wasn't any sort of divine justice, or even just equal and opposite reaction. It had nothing to do with his activities at all, in fact. He was simply murdered through a corrupt apparatus of state by rivals who wanted his land and wealth.
Hahaha, oh wow. That's actually kind of amazing.
Like I said back near the beginning of the series when the Caster's identity was first revealed, there is some evidence that the historical Gilles de Rais may have been innocent. The accusers did in fact get his land after the execution. However, this story's version of Gilles was very clearly not innocent. So, he's saying that he actually did commit the crimes he was accused of, but also that the charges were trumped up and the verdict unjust. And, most bizarrely, that his death was not in any way a consequence of his activities.
Like, even if every single person involved in the trial was purely opportunistic and only after Gilles' property, they wouldn't have had that opportunity to take advantage of if he hadn't given it to them. Unless he's sing that the accusers fabricated the charges wholecloth and it just happened, by total coincidence, that he'd done exactly the things they accused him of without them ever having known it.
The show clearly expects the audience to just be chuckling at the obvious batshittery on display here. And, I am. This is the difference between unintentional bad philosophy and intentional bad philosophy.
Uwu, cheered up now and seeing that Gilles needs some cheering up on his own, does this manic pixie dreamgirl routine where he tells Gilles about his own view of god. God, Uwu feels, is not a judge or a parent, but an entertainer. All the world is a toy, and every person in it is both a player and a plaything, with all events that ever occur and all actions taken by people being pleasing unto the lord. Gilles is enchanted, and promptly declares Uwu a prophet.
Gilles asks if, in that case, all the atrocities he committed to spite God were for naught. Uwu replies that a better way of looking at it would be to see himself as playing the villain in another divine game, a role in which Gilles seems to have excelled and delighted. For the first time, Gilles addresses Uwu as "master" and seems to mean it.
So, they happily set off to crucify some more orphans.
With that grimderp silliness done with, we return to Waver and Alexander as they enter an outdoor mall. Waver tells Alexander not to do any pillaging or conquering while they're shopping, and gives him some money so he can buy stuff if he wants to. When Alexander starts to protest, Waver threatens to break out the Command Seals, and he grudgingly relents. Waver also tells him not to stray too far away, since he could be attacked at any time.
Erm...no? We've just been told that that's not how it works at all. I guess Waver might not know that, but does Alexander know it? Servants are summoned with instinctive knowledge of the Grail War and its rules, right? I guess Alexander has every reason to not correct him, heh.
Alexander promises to be on his best of Macedonian palace etiquette, and Waver supposes that that promise is as good as he's going to get. Waver then enters a bookstore, and leafs through a history book about Alexander the Great that he spots on the shelf. He apparently didn't do much research until now, because the fact that Alexander did pretty much no actual governing, leaving the administration of his empire to nobles and lackeys while he spent his own life simply expanding it, takes Waver by surprise. Waver is also taken by surprise by Alexander himself, who randomly comes running back into the bookstore looking for him at that moment.
I don't know what kind of shenanigans Alexander has gotten himself into in those five minutes, but it seems to have destroyed his character model.
Seriously, did they hire Rob Liefield for just this one frame?
Alexander found a videogame that looked interesting, and promptly bought it, a console to play it on, and two controllers, and he's excited to get back home so he and Waver can play it. Waver, backsliding into his most irritating early series mannerisms, whines about how videogames are low class entertainment and beneath him.
Again. Sitcom about Waver and Alexander forging the Neo-Macedonian Empire. It would be better than Fate/Zero.
Alexander huffily asks what he DOES do for fun then, and notices that he was reading a book about himself. He wonders why Waver would bother, when he can just ask Alexander himself anything he wants to know about his previous life. Either not grasping that Waver is trying to get around his biases, or grasping it and just not wanting Waver to do so. Waver's first question for him regards his physical size; the book says that Alexander the Great was a short man, whereas Rider is gigantic. What's up with that?
Alexander just says that the book must have gotten it wrong, and that he isn't particularly offended by this. Just, primary sources are always better.
Hmm. Could be an honest answer, could not be. Of course, if I'm right about how the Servants work, then this recreation of Alexander might think that he was always this size with his mind paving over the inconsistencies.
Waver next asks him if he really died at just thirty, and Alexander - seeming reluctant to talk about himself for the first time ever - admits that that is the case.
Looks like we might be getting a refutation to Alexander's position from episode 11 after all. Though, as I already said, it's kind of insane that we seem to be getting it from a sheltered 13 year old boy instead of the experienced, politically savvy adult who should have done it before. :/
Waver looks disappointed. Cut back to Uwu and Gilles. The latter is standing, Jesus-style, on the surface of the Fuyuki bay, while Uwu cheers him on from the bridge that crosses the river mouth.
It looks like they're getting ready to post some serious cringe.
Return to Waver and Alexander, now on their way home from the mall. Alexander notices that Waver is being uncharacteristically quiet. If I were Alexander I would be very grateful for this, but I'm not, so he asks his Master what's up. Waver replies, surprisingly, with the claim that he's just now realizing how incredibly boring Alexander really is. Alexander takes this better than I thought he would, and replies with "If you're bored, then let's go home and play this video game already." But, that's not what Waver meant. What he meant is that Alexander's goals and aspirations are just so shallow and banal, once you strip away the grandiosity, that he doesn't feel like he's fighting for anything at all in this Grail War.
This kind of gets back to my own question of who gets to make a wish at the end, Master or Servant? If it just comes down to whether or not the Master still has a Command Seal to make them back down with, then it seems like the Servants should all be doing everything they can do make their Masters waste their Seals, and they aren't doing that.
Also, I'm not sure how Waver knows so much about Hassan's personality. He's never seen him and Kirei interact, or even met Kirei at all as far as I can recall. I feel like something is being lost in translation here.
Alexander points out that without a Servant who has powerful defensive abilities like Alexander's chariot, Waver probably would have died by now; Assassins in particular are not good at defending against other teams, and require a lot of skill and cunning from their summoner to be effective. Waver says that that would still be fine. He'd rather die fighting his own battle than "win" as a pawn in Alexander's ego trip.
Heh. And Waver entered the Grail War himself *entirely* for the sake of an ego trip. Looks like he's having the opposite issue from Gray's with Arturia, if my interpretation is correct. Gray is snippy with Arturia because she makes him insecure in how well he measures up to the ideal. Waver is getting pissy with Alexander (this time) because he sees so much of his own pettiness in him.
Alexander tells him that that's too bad, but hey, they're stuck with each other for now. Winning the Grail War doesn't have to be the crowning achievement of Waver's life; he can find something he really cares about and live to create a legacy of his own after they either win or lose this. For his own part, while Alexander grants that he'd probably have a much easier time winning this if he had a more experienced wizard for a master who he got along better with, that handicap doesn't terribly bother him.
After all, Alexander tried to conquer the world once, and plans to attempt it again.
What an insane, impossible challenge that is to take on, for a mere human? And yet, Alexander wants to make his second go of it just like his first; no immortality, no Servant powers, just his own statecraft and tactical skill against an entire planet. In light of that sort of challenge, what difference in ability is there between himself and Waver? How much more of a handicap is he taking on in the Grail War by having him as a Master than he is by making the wish that he plans to make?
Huh. That's...kind of inspiring, I guess. And also surprisingly humble, coming from Alexander. For all his maniacal ranting about the ultimate power and excess of royalty, he at least knows that a "royal" is still just a normal person who's managed to elbow their way into position. That's what makes his outlook different than Gilgamesh's, at least.
Waver remembers the dream that he had last night, about Alexander seeing the ocean. Oh, right, I forgot about the dream-link that Masters and Servants have, it's been a while. So that wasn't Alexander's dream, it was Waver dreaming about...or wait, no, it was actually both. It turns out that that wasn't the Indian Ocean that Alexander was seeing there. It was the Pacific, which he never actually made it to.
Waver was dreaming about a moment that Alexander long aspired to, but never actually got to experience. It was the Chinese east coast as Alexander imagined it to look like.
Heh. That makes Alexander's current situation sort of ironic. He's in a coastal city in Japan, finally right up close with his goal...but it's two and a half thousand years after he died and his empire fell apart, and he's here as a bound familiar with no lands or armies to his name.
The heart-to-heart is interrupted by the sound of cringe being posted over by the river mouth. They hurry over to see what's going on. Jump to...Diarmuid! The commotion has attracted him and his new master Sola as well, and they've already come down to the waterfront and gotten Gilles in their sights.
...
Okay, this is something that's been low-key bothering me for a while now, but being reminded that this team exists and is still active brings it to a head. There are (effectively, since Kirei and Goatee were in league) six teams in this conflict, and they're supposedly in a last-man-standing free for all. And yet, it seems like hardly anything has been happening.
What have Diarmuid and Sola been doing over the several days since Archie's defeat? What about Daisy and his Berserker? He only seems to have acted once since the introductory confrontation so far, and that wasn't even to attack another contestant. What has he been doing?
There's a sort of placid, almost languid, pacing to this story that doesn't really fit the premise.
...
Anyway, Diarmuid says that this looks like a good chance to take the mad Caster out. Sola wants to advance with him, but Diarmuid thinks that would be a bad idea, because...erm...
Professor Archie was a trained tactician? Could have fooled me lmao.
I'd chalk this up to sexism on Diarmuid's part. But she doesn't try to argue, so I guess she really isn't any good in a fight. Which, given the pattern with female characters at this point, does look like sexism, but not Diarmuid's.
...
Yeah, the Arturia "debate" shitshow wasn't as gender-related as I thought, in light of how similarly Kirei's talk with Gilgamesh went. But there are plenty of other data points, even if none of them are quite as incriminating as that one looked.
...
Speaking of badly written women, Sola is lusting after Diarmuid as he charges off toward the bay.
On one hand, Diarmuid's magic tattoo is supposed to do this to women. On the other, the decision to pair Diarmuid with the only female Master in this war was made by someone.
Elsewhere along the shoreline, Arturia and Iri drive up and get out of their car to see Gilles hovering over the water within earshot. For once, he doesn't drop whatever he's doing to fawn over Arturia. As he gleefully informs her, while he IS pleased at her presence here for this event, the main reason he's doing it isn't anything to do with her. Instead, he's trying out a brand new philosophy that his wise and sagely Master taught him.
He pulls out his spellbook (looks like he was able to repair it after all. Bad news for everyone) and pulls a giant mass of tentacles out of the water beneath him. As he rants and raves, the demonic flesh closes around him, forming a giant, biological kraken-mech for him to pilot, and it begins floating into the air above the river.
Yeah. He's posting real, genuine cringe over here.
As they try to decide what the fuck they should be doing about this, Alexander and Diarmuid approach them. Given the circumstances, it looks like they'll be teaming up to take Gilles down after all, just like the referee wanted them to.
...
If they'd done that in the first place, there wouldn't be a kraken about to roll over and crush half the city. Lol, live and learn.
...
Also, Alexander addresses Arturia as "King of Knights" again, even though he said he doesn't consider her a king anymore. Either he's being more polite now in the interest of team cohesion, or he was just too drunk to remember what he said at that time. Whatever.
Iri puts her magical knowledge to use, and tells them that this kraken-ship-thing must be sustaining itself using Gilles and his Master's accumulated mana reserves, probably amplified by the life force of their victims over the last however long. That means that while this thing looks intimidating, it's probably relatively fragile for its size at the moment. However, if it reaches the shore and starts killing people, Gilles will likely be able to feed their energy into the organism and keep it powered up indefinitely.
So, they need to engage it over the water, before it draws close. Alexander's chariot can fly. Arturia, she now explains, has a freedom of movement ability that lets her move and survive unimpeded underwater; the Lady of the Lake's touch on her heroic legend. Ah, interesting. That probably should have been established earlier (back when she and Iri were hanging out at the beach would have been a good opportunity), but it's reasonable enough in light of the random shit the Servants all seem to have. Meanwhile, Diarmuid's spears are well suited for penetrating Gilles' defenses, and if he can hit his spellbook with the Gáe Dearg spear that inflicts permanent injuries then that'll likely damage it in a way he CAN'T just fix again. So, Arturia is going to attack from below and keep Gilles' attention while Alexander's chariot brings him and Diarmuid in for an aerial attack. If all goes well, they'll be able to cut through the kraken's armor while Arturia is keeping it busy and insert Diarmuid into the cockpit where he can kill or at least de-power the pilot.
Okay, sure! Decent plan for such short notice, and everybody seems to understand where their abilities can make them most useful. Off we go!
Can the muggles see that thing rising out of the water, I wonder? The Servants are invisible when they want to be, but does that extend to the things they summon in turn? And...does Gilles even *want* to make it invisible, if he has the choice? No idea.
In any case, I'm glad that after a patience-trying concentration of attempts to make Fate be a smart, cerebral work when it's really not up to the task, we're now going to go fight an evil sorcerer in a tentacle monster mobile suit. See, this? This is the good stuff. This is what this franchise is for.
End episode, and end season.
I may be going a little hard on Fate/Zero. It does have some thematic strengths, with its subtle evaluation of social order versus personal aspiration, restraint versus ambition, whether "heroism" is a useful concept to have at all, etc. It's only when it tries to put those themes *front and center* and engage with them textually rather than letting them emerge from the story on their own that it plants its foot in its mouth.
That's...another Urobuchi hallmark, honestly. He does have a tendency to accidentally write things that are better and more interesting than what he intended.
Regardless.
I enjoyed it? It wasn't great or anything, but it was fun. The grimdark aspects that I complained about early on got a lot easier to roll with once the overall cartooniness of the story comes into full bloom. For all that I shit-talk the author, he IS good at writing snappy dialogue, deadpan humor, and love-to-hate-them characters, and F/Z gives him plenty of opportunity to show that off. I'd say this first season really puts both the strengths and the weaknesses of its writer on display, and on balance, hey, it wasn't bad.
This. This is why so many of us absolutely love this dumb, stupid franchise. (Also good characterization, but that doesn't really apply to Zero, I suppose.)
Fate/Zero is my favorite of my admittedly limited exposure to the Fate franchise. As you've pointed out in the past coupla episode reviews, it doesn't always succeed when it tries to have interesting scenarios featuring historical and mythological figures and their wildly different ideologies and values, but I appreciate that it at least attempts them. Zero feels like a clumsy, flawed attempt to portray Gilgamesh, King Arthur, Alexander the Great and Diarmuid Ua Duibhne interacting, whereas in my experience other Fate/Blahs are just the adventures of generic anime tropes that happen to have the names of historical characters.
Okay, this is something that's been low-key bothering me for a while now, but being reminded that this team exists and is still active brings it to a head. There are (effectively, since Kirei and Goatee were in league) six teams in this conflict, and they're supposedly in a last-man-standing free for all. And yet, it seems like hardly anything has been happening.
What have Diarmuid and Sola been doing over the several days since Archie's defeat? What about Daisy and his Berserker? He only seems to have acted once since the introductory confrontation so far, and that wasn't even to attack another contestant. What has he been doing?
There's a sort of placid, almost languid, pacing to this story that doesn't really fit the premise.
This is why PUBG has the shrinking arena mechanic, otherwise everyone just sits around camping with sniper rifles waiting for someone else to show movement so you can give them a cranial lobotomy from 2 km away.
Fate/Zero is my favorite of my admittedly limited exposure to the Fate franchise. As you've pointed out in the past coupla episode reviews, it doesn't always succeed when it tries to have interesting scenarios featuring historical and mythological figures and their wildly different ideologies and values, but I appreciate that it at least attempts them. Zero feels like a clumsy, flawed attempt to portray Gilgamesh, King Arthur, Alexander the Great and Diarmuid Ua Duibhne interacting, whereas in my experience other Fate/Blahs are just the adventures of generic anime tropes that happen to have the names of historical characters.
Meh, disagree. FZ is not even the best show of characterization of either Artoria or Gilgamesh, if only because neither gets good interactions with their own Masters there.
An essential component of a Fate/ thing is a Servant interacting with other Servants (either by talking to them or punching them) and with their Masters. A good Master-Servant pairing has either both parties complementing each other, or, more often than not, one of them is flawed or missing something about themselves or their lives, and their meeting with the other changes their lives in a significant way. Or even better, both Servant and Master help each other grow throughout the war and deal with their issues (for Servants, usually it's some regret about their past).
That's why the best pair in this war is Team Rider. And, despite my annoyance at their antics, Team Caster, because "I can make them worse" is just as interesting as "I can fix them."
The only real thing that stands out in FZ's War is that most Servants there declared their identities for all to hear, whereas in most others it's a secret, hence why something like the Banquet could take place. Otherwise, the fact that it fumbled the Banquet and eliminated Assassin without making them interesting or tying them to Kirei's arc kind of says it all.
As it is, I can think of at least one Fate work I consider better than Zero on both interactions of mythical/historical figures and Servant-Master pairs, but that's beyond the scope of this review.
Einzbern. Honestly, if you claim that the best characterisation in Fate comes from Master-Servant dynamics, why are you ignoring the entire Iry-Saber sequence?
Okay, after the previous two episodes' seemingly serious failed attempts at philosophy, watching these two being ridiculously, cartoonishly, comically evil and insane is kind of a breath of fresh air.
Gilles' incredibly exaggerated face and outfit and general aesthetic is basically impossible to take seriously. Which really helps the scene land, I think.
This kind of gets back to my own question of who gets to make a wish at the end, Master or Servant? If it just comes down to whether or not the Master still has a Command Seal to make them back down with, then it seems like the Servants should all be doing everything they can do make their Masters waste their Seals, and they aren't doing that.
Pretty sure that's yet another "this is discussed in Fate Stay/Night, which of course you must have watched before watching this, so why would we go over it again?" thing...
I may be going a little hard on Fate/Zero. It does have some thematic strengths, with its subtle evaluation of social order versus personal aspiration, restraint versus ambition, whether "heroism" is a useful concept to have at all, etc. It's only when it tries to put those themes *front and center* and engage with them textually rather than letting them emerge from the story on their own that it plants its foot in its mouth.
That's...another Urobuchi hallmark, honestly. He does have a tendency to accidentally write things that are better and more interesting than what he intended.
I continue to maintain that Fate as a series benefits greatly from analysis by people who put far more thought and effort into it than its creators did.
Einzbern. Honestly, if you claim that the best characterisation in Fate comes from Master-Servant dynamics, why are you ignoring the entire Iry-Saber sequence?
Pretty sure that's yet another "this is discussed in Fate Stay/Night, which of course you must have watched before watching this, so why would we go over it again?" thing...
Oh well spoil the resolution right there in the fucking episode title why don't you.
The teaser is straight to the point. Wen-Li is at the space pentagon, wheeling and dealing to requisition some captured Imperial ships for use in the 13th fleet's maiden operation. He also wants uniforms to go with them. I guess he's going to try to take Iserlohn by infiltration.
Wen-Li also asks if he can get a security detail at his house while he's away capturing that death star. Not just for fear of vandalism, but also because he's going to be leaving Julian home alone. He wanted to send him to stay with someone else while he's in space, but Julian put up too much of a fight.
Heh, okay then kid.
There's a cute bit where Julian talks about how he considers himself the garrison officer in command of this position, and he doesn't plan to abandon his post. It would have been cuter if we had a proper introduction to Julian and his relationship with Wen-Li, but even absent such context it got a smile from me. Better than nothing.
Battleship mating dance. After the warships find each other adequate and fly off to build a nest together, we return to Wen-Li, who is now choosing a command crew for the 13th fleet. He picks some from among his existing underlings who he remembers performing well at Astarte, and requisitions one or two others.
There's this sort of blandly patriotic music playing in the background that doesn't really fit the scene at all. DNT isn't as bad with the elevator music as the OVA, but it's not good about it either.
Wen-Li is then informed by that senior officer who's been jerking him around since he got to this planet that he'll be assigned an adjutant of his superiors' choosing. And that said adjutant was a better student than him in the academy, has a less checkered political history, smells better, and isn't a stupid dumdumhead like him. Geeze, really sugarcoating it. Cut to Wen-Li meeting this supremely qualified assistant when she marches into his office a bit later.
Wen-Li gets all weird about her being a woman in a way that was probably considered just a little quaint and dorky back when the novel was written, but is absolutely painful today. He recovers from his sexist foot-in-the-mouth moment by noticing that the name Greenhill is a familiar one to him. Her father is some bigshot admiral apparently. When he tells her that this probably gives her a bit of a leg up over him, having been marinated in naval strategy for as long as she can remember, she assures him that she nonetheless looks up to him. Largely because of his accomplishments at El Facil.
He points out that what he did at El Facil was, basically, just use an obvious opportunity created by his fellow officer's incompetence. She tells him that, be that as it may, he still saved a young girl's life and gave her a military role model that she committed herself to living up to.
Oh. She was the kid who brought him coffee instead of tea. Gotcha.
The show does a flashback thing, though I doubt many audience members needed it. She recalls the gory details of his hot drink ingratitude, and he's amazed to hear about how rude he was. It's a cute scene, especially owing to her playful delivery. The music lays it on a little too thick though. Wen-Li eventually manages to steer this conversation back into a practical direction by noting that her memory for details could come in handy on campaign.
Before they can actually start talking plans and staff organization and such though, we cut to...a cafeteria somewhere, where some disgruntled-looking Alliance officers are talking about Wen-Li's new assignment. Officers including members of his handpicked command crew. I wouldn't judge them too harshly though; a mission like "capture the enemy superfortress that's stymied us for years and years using just an undersized fleet with no special trump cards" isn't going to fill anyone with confidence, regardless of how much they trust their commander. When said commander is an extremely young officer with just a pair of extremely costly "victories" to his name - even if his role was basically cleaning up and minimizing losses after other people's mistakes - well, that doesn't exactly make it better. They (rightly, tbh) wonder if whoever decided to make this move has gone senile.
The framing makes it seem like the audience is supposed to dislike these officers for their pessimism in Wen-Li, but that really doesn't strike me as fair. These guys' misgivings are much, much more rational than those of the various dingbats that Wen-Li and Reinhard both had to push against in the first couple eps. This really is an insane mission they're being sent on, and even giving Wen-Li full credit for everything he's done so far I don't see how his skill at mitigating catastrophes really lends itself to this sort of offensive operation.
Then again, I think part of it is that we're also supposed to like Wen-Li, and therefore dislike people who think little of him. Which is a problem for me, because the show has not done a very good job at making me like Wen-Li.
Eventually some old guy comes and yells at them for not having faith in Wen-Li, completely missing the main thrust of their misgivings.
Speaking of senility.
Returning to Wen-Li and Greenhill, the two of them are discussing the perfect agents to pull off whatever Trojan Horse plan Wen-Li has in mind. The Rosen Ritter are an irregular ground combat unit recruited from Galactic Empire refugees. They're one of the most effective fighting forces in the entire Free Planets Alliance, and their backgrounds should make them uniquely well suited for this operation.
There is a concern though. Of the thirteen leaders the Rosen Ritter have had since the force's creation, six ended up defecting back to the Empire. Understandably, the Rose Knights been increasingly kept away from secret or sensitive missions because of this.
Greenhill points out that it would just be perfect for captain number thirteen to be another traitor. Wen-Li isn't superstitious though, and tells her to set up a meeting between himself and sitting Rosen Ritter leader Captain Walter von Schonkopf. He lives on or near this planet, so an in-person meeting isn't hard to set up.
They set out, and find him...well, "them" actually. They seem to have their own barracks and training facility. They also have the attitude of a bunch of really culty frat bros. When Wen-Li and Greenhill arrive at the compound and ask to speak with Von Schonkopf, they ignore the request completely, don't salute Wen-Li even when he introduces himself by rank, and start getting all creepy-flirtatious toward Greenhill. Lovely chaps all around. When one of them starts getting handsy, Greenhill demonstrates that a sharp memory isn't her only surprising skill.
For her size and build, judo-throwing a bulky gym-bro like that is pretty impressive. It certainly changes the expressions on all the others' faces.
Before things can escalate further, Von Schonkopf emerges from the throng and makes his idiots stand down. He instructs them to salute Wen-Li, and then apologizes on their behalf. His apology includes the statement that seeing a woman as beautiful as Greenhill has turned his men back into little boys, and that he himself feels the same thing happening as well, but hopes that they can be collectively forgiven.
Wince.
I will say that this isn't just a Japanese thing really, and more of an early 1980's thing. You can find similar shit written by American and European authors dating from just a few years earlier than this. Doesn't make it any less embarrassing, though.
After some more groanworthy attempts at flirtation by Von Schonkopf, Wen-Li and Greenhill manage to get him into a meeting room where they tell him about the plan. Well, it's implied that they do at least. The audience doesn't get to see that part, because if we did then that would mean it has to fail. Thing is, this is an insanely high risk mission to undertake with such limited resources, and Von Schonkopf is wondering why Wen-Li is even willing to lead such a mission. Is he just trying to get a promotion? Is it ego?
Wen-Li explains that, at least for him personally, it's nothing like that at all. In fact, he's hoping to retire from military service and finally start that goddamned history teacher job after this mission. He believes that if the Alliance manages to secure Iserlohn, the Empire will have no corridor through which it can realistically mount another invasion of Alliance space. Which means that, as long as the Alliance government doesn't go insane and try to invade the Empire back, this could actually be the beginning of the end of the war.
Turn the Iserlohn around and have it defend from the opposite direction, and the Alliance might be able to force the Empire to accept a settlement.
Von Schonkopf is skeptical about this working out even if their mission is successful. The Galactic Empire is a greedy, spiteful monster, and will not accept such terms easily. Wen-Li says that he's fine with that. Even if the resulting peace only lasts a few decades, the galaxy will be glad for such a respite.
Trying to see that the peace lasts any longer, Wen-Li says, will be the responsibility of the generation after his (he namedrops Julian here. Apparently he's just 14 years old? That makes the decision to leave him home alone considerably more questionable than I thought at the time...). He just wants to make sure they have even a slight possibility of doing so.
...
That speech was probably the most likeable that the show has portrayed Yang Wen-Li as being so far. I wonder how much of that is down to stuff being cut in the adaptation.
On a similar note, I'm also still curious about book!Reinhard. His personality is almost completely opposite in the two anime adaptations, so I really wonder what the heck the original is like.
...
Von Schonkopf seems impressed enough with that answer, but he also wants to know how Wen-Li feels about his own motivations in return. Isn't he afraid that he'll turn traitor like so many of his predecessors? Wen-Li says that yes, he is, but he doesn't exactly have many alternatives. Then Von Schonkopf asks what recourse Wen-Li would have if he did betray them in the middle of the operation, and Wen-Li says he's be forced to turn tail and run with as many of his ships as he could still save.
...um.
Okay.
That WAS supposed to be a little joke that the two of them were sharing, right?
If Wen-Li has a contingency in mind for that scenario, he's not going to fucking tell him about it.
They both know that, right? This is supposed to be them joking with each other?
I'm going to generously assume that this is in fact the case and move on.
Jump ahead to Wen-Li's officers, now including Von Schonkopf - I think I'll just call him Shlumpy from now on - having a pre-departure conference with the elderly admiral who talked Wen-Li up earlier. This mission is insane, and the top brass was insane to throw it at them, but they're all in.
Shlumpy makes a crack about how hey, worst case scenario the enemy will capture him and he'll get to go home again.
Yeah, not the right audience for that one Shlumps.
The thirteenth fleet gets moving, and we go to a voiceover narrator telling us about Iserlohn fortress. It's mostly the same information that we already got in the OVA episodes I reviewed, but with one important addition.
Iserlohn has a permanent command of two admirals, one in charge of the station itself and one who commands the fleet stationed there. They're the exact same rank, they have no protocol for whose decisions take precedence in matters involving both station and fleet, and they hate each other.
...
I was starting to feel like this story was buying into the "make the trains run on time" myth, with authoritarian regimes being assumed to be more efficient or competent than democratic ones by virtue of their brutality. I'm glad to see that no, that's really not the case, the Imperial military command is every bit as much of a circus clown shitshow as the Alliance's.
...
The voiceover gives way to Admirals Tweedledee and Tweedledum being informed that they've picked up a distress call. A top secret spy mission in Alliance space has gone pear shaped, and their spy ship is being chased up the Astarte Corridor by Alliance patrols. They're going to need the station's garrison to come in and save them, or else there's no way in hell that they're surviving long enough to reach Iserlohn themselves.
The admirals disagree about what to do of course. Dee thinks they should keep their ships near the station in case the Alliance fleet is bigger than it's being made to sound. Dum thinks they should spread out and search the system to see if there are additional Alliance battlegroups trying to use this opportunity to sneak past while they're distracted.
The only one who seems to consider it likely that this whole thing is a trap is Oberstein, the guy with the robotic eyes who was stasi-ing Siegfried a few episodes ago. Right, he was just assigned here recently. Oberstein seems like he's being built up as the story's one competent bad guy.
He advises them to do as Dee proposed. Mobilize their forces, but keep them clustered around the station for now until they can get a confirmation that this isn't just bait. Dum isn't happy about this, but is forced to see the wisdom of it.
They extend their range enough to see the Alliance ships chasing a small group of Imperial ones in, and start having their own fleet close until the enemy sees them and beats a retreat. They then begin escorting the ships they just "rescued" back to Iserlohn in force.
The face of the "spy mission's" commander seems like it really should be known to them, because, um...
But apparently it isn't. Visual shorthand maybe, with Shlumpy's face here just being used to stand in for a less notorious Ritter Rose soldier's? Maybe, I don't know. End episode.
If this review reads like a dry summary without much analysis, it's because the episode just didn't give me much to talk about. Wen-Li is more likable than he's been in the past, but otherwise? Just old school "meh" milsci all around.
I don't think the officers who are criticising Yang are actually part of the 13th Fleet ? They're not the same people as his command crew (I can't blame you for the confusion though, Yang's crew hasn't had time to make an impression at that point), and while they do talk about Yang's forces being made up of both rookies and the remains of the destroyed fleets from Astarte, there's no reference to them going on the mission themselves, at least not in the French subs. And while their skepticism of the mission is perfectly understandable, focusing on Wen-Li's age and loudly complaining about it is not the best way to express their misgivings, and makes Bucock's retort warranted in my opinion.
This episode does have some annoying examples of LoGH showing its age though. I think it's overall better than other mil sci-fi works about stuff like diversity, but there's some 80s cringe in there all right. I remember reading an interview of the author of the novels in which he reflected a bit on some his work's more outdated aspects, which makes it frustrating that DNT, by insisting on following the novels so closely, misses an opportunity to modernise those aspects (some adaptational changes and additions from the OVA would've been nice to keep too, chief among those Julian's cat named "Fleet Admiral").
Still, glad to see that Yang has regained some likeability for you. For what it's worth, I think the Iserlohn arc is where LoGH starts showing its full potential. Astarte, its immediate follow-up and the flashbacks are a decent start and good setups for what happens later, but on their own they aren't the best that LoGH has to offer, whether it's in space combat, in characterisation or in political messaging.
Legend of the Galactic Heroes - The New Thesis (S1E7): The Capture of Iserlohn Fortress, Pt. 2
The voiceover summary we start the episode with spends a lot of time on Shlumpy and the concerns that he may turn traitor like so many of his predecessors. The title of this two-parter makes it clear that this operation will be a success though, so if Shlumpy's going to betray the Alliance he'll either be caught by his own men before he can do much damage, or it'll be at a much later date. Speaking of Shlumpy & Friends, we then open on them standing on the bridge of the Trojan Horse ship, being given permission to dock at Iserlohn.
So far so good. I suspect Oberstein will be the one grilling them for hints of anything amiss. He was more skeptical than the two admirals over him, and back in the promotion scene he demonstrated a fondness for sniffing out disloyal officers.
As they pull toward the station, Shlumpy asks the two guys next to him if they have any personal memories from life under the Empire. Erm...shouldn't he already know this? Even if he didn't know just from living and training with the rest of the Ritter Rose, you'd think that kind of question would have come up when they were deciding who would play what role in this ruse. I suspect that this is clumsy exposition-compression from the novel. Anyway, one of them replies that no, he's a second generation refugee. The other just says that his grandfather was killed under suspicion of treachery, without saying anything about his own personal experiences. Shlumpy then reveals that he was six years old when his family left the Empire.
So, literally no one on the bridge was ever an Imperial soldier. Or even old enough to have gotten a sense of Imperial society from an adult perspective.
The perfect infiltrators, ladies and gentlemen.
At least the visuals of the ship entering the Iserlohn's docking space are cool.
But that doesn't make this any less stupid.
Battleship mating dance. Afterward, we see some SIGINT drones that the infiltration ship left floating behind it just outside Iserlohn's gravity well come to life and start quietly transmitting back to the 13th fleet. Aboard the Hyperion, Wen-Li infers that the silence suggests everything is going according to plan so far.
Inside the station, meanwhile, the infiltrators are telling the officer who receives them that they just barely managed to escape ahead of the rebel force coming to capture Iserlohn. The Free Planets Alliance has cooked up a piece of supertech of its own, and they think they can use it to neutralize the station's main weapon and allow their fleets to overwhelm its conventional defenses.
Which means it needs to go straight to the station's commanders before passing it on to the (brand new) supreme admiral. Convenient!
The admirals are informed...or, well, one of them is. Tweedledee is the only one onstation now, because Tweedledum decided to take the garrison fleet and go looking for Alliance fleets trying to sneak around the boundaries of their sensors despite his fellow officers' misgivings. Well...I guess it might pay off for him, if he does happen to find the 13th, but I get the impression Wen-Li is having it hang back a little further than that. When Dee hears the news, he gives the order for Dum's fleet to be called back to the station immediately...but they can't. Their communications are being jammed.
-____________-
How?
The 13th fleet is out of sensor range. How could they be blocking comms between the station and the garrison ships that are supposedly roving all around the system?
Is it supposed to be that drone that the decoy ship left floating outside the station's gravity well? That tiny drone? Wouldn't they at least have to seed those on multiple sides of the station to block all of its comms?
Hell, forget even those questions for now. Shouldn't the garrison fleet have noticed something was up the instant they stopped getting updates from the station? Even if there's a lag due to the distances involved (which I doubt there would be, given what we've seen of this setting's communications technology...), the instant they stop getting pings would be interpreted the same way as an actual distress call, no? Why even bother jamming them at all, then?
This makes even less sense than the last communications-jamming enigma back in the pilot.
In the absence of Dum and his ships, Dee just orders all Iserlohn crew to battle stations, extends the point defense turrets, and starts warming up the Mjolnir cannon. And also to bring the captain of that spy ship to him at once.
This triggers a little flashback, where we learn what the actual plan is.
The Rose Knights are supposed to take control of the bridge. That's...going to be a challenge, if they're letting the Imperials bring their commander there alone ahead of time, but okay. Also, they don't know exactly where said bridge is yet. Alliance intel has given them an incomplete schematic of Iserlohn Fortress, which has let them narrow down the control room to five possible locations. The infiltrators will need to get themselves brought to those locations one by one until they find the right one.
...
Okay, I'm just saying. If I were designing such a critical (and large) weapons platform as Iserlohn, I'd want to have redundant control centers. Make it so that any one of them can be locked out of the network by a consensus from the others, and all active control rooms need to be pressing the buttons at once in order to turn the Mjolnir gun on or off. Something like that? Maybe? I don't know, one bridge for something this huge and powerful seems like a real liability.
I'll trust Wen-Li's intel sources to be the voice of the author here and trust them that Iserlohn is, in fact, designed with one control center and no recourse if it's lost. I just think that that's dumb for the story to have done.
...
The briefing ends with Wen-Li saying that every fortress has a weakness in its defenses, any shell can be cracked with sufficient finesse, and Shlumpy replying with this jarring nonsequitor:
Okay Shlumps. Sure. Think of it like that if it helps you stay motivated.
As the conveyer tram thingy brings Shlumpy and a couple of his underlings with their Imperial escorts deeper into the station, they pass by a statue of Rudolf I that everyone has to salute when they move past it. The infiltrators do as the Imperial soldiers do, obviously, but doing so creates a hurdle when one of the escorts sees the wrist of Shlumpy's second in command.
Did they really not know this?
HOW could they have really not known this?
Even if not a single Ritter Rose soldier is an actual former Imperial Soldier (which I still can barely believe the story is asserting. If they're not, what the hell gives them the experience necessary for this op? Why would Wen-Li have gone through the trouble of recruiting them for this?) this is something that should absolutely be common knowledge. Even if the average Alliance grunt doesn't know it, their military intelligence agencies absolutely must, no way in hell do they not.
Then again, failing to communicate that information to spies being sent into the field definitely feels in-character for the level of competence of characters not named Reinhard or Wen-Li, so whatever. :/
They get out of this by saying that they had tattoos and other nonstandard body modifications done on them to help them infiltrate Alliance facilities, since the Alliance knows that tattoos are evidence against someone being an enemy soldier. Lol, describing a better written world than the one you actually live in. Anyway, it works and they're brought on to the control center.
Before entering the bridge itself though, they're taken to an antechamber, where they have to go through security before being allowed to enter. They're made to remove their weapons and pass through a body scanner, which detects a metal pen in Shlumpy's uniform vest pocket. When asked, he tells the guards that the pen is the one surviving heirloom of his grandfather, and that he keeps it on him at all times. They let him keep it.
I'll bet he filled the ink cartridge with a superdeadly poison or something.
Next, they have to scan the interviewees soldier ID bands. And, unfortunately, the Alliance fakes they brought aren't able to trick the computer. Shlumpy tells them that there must be a computer glitch or something, but they're not buying that. Fortunately, just at that moment, another soldier comes out of the bridge and demands to know what's taking so long, the admiral needs to speak to the spies now. He hurries them on through security without bothering to resolve the discrepancy.
-____________-
Guys. Telephones. I know you have them. We've seen you use them before. The spies don't need to physically be in the same room as the admiral in order to be debriefed. If there are security concerns, you can put them on the phone with him.
This is just...
So, the dumbfucks bring the other dumbfucks onto the bridge. Shlumpy uses his pen to take down the one soldier standing between him and Tweedledee and then takes the latter hostage with his own pistol.
When told that holding one officer at gunpoint won't be enough to take down the entire station, Shlumpy just smirks and launches us into another flashback.
They knew that wouldn't be enough, so they have another trick. There's an explosive gas used for deep-crust mining operations that's nontoxic and safe to transport, but detonates if it touches anything hot enough. Shlumpy presses a button on the intel briefcase, and it releases the stuff. Any weapons fire aboard the bridge will now destroy it, and probably the rooms next to it as well.
-__________-
Why was holding the admiral at gunpoint even necessary, then?
That whole stupid fight he just did with the pen, and the dashing over to the admiral and hoping he could grab his gun before he pulled it out himself? Why bother doing any of that shit? That introduces a MASSIVE possible failure point to the plan when he could get to the exact same end result just by releasing the gas as soon as he was inside the control room.
Also, did the scanner really not reveal the fact that the briefcase was full of explosive gas? Did they have a bunch of decoy papers stacked in there as well? Maybe they did, but in that case how much space was even left for the gas?
Does this superadvanced space navy really not use mass spectrometry for its security scans? That technology existed when the first LotGH novel was written. It's not one of those "science marches on" curveballs that the author couldn't have predicted.
When Shlumpy says who he really is, Tweedledee offers him a full pardon and an honorary officer position in the Imperial military if he switches sides now. It briefly flashes over to the Hyperion's bridge, where Wen-Li and Co are anxiously hoping that Shlumpy isn't going to turn traitor like so many before him. I might feel some real tension about this, but unfortunately the ending was already given away by the episode title.
Shlumpy's stated reason for not turning is, um...
Okay. Sure. If that's what motivates you, Shlumpadumpicus.
Iserlohn surrenders. Which I'm honestly kind of skeptical about. You'd think there'd be a mutiny over the admiral's decision here, but...I guess not. Jump cut to the 13th fleet just waltzing right into the station's docking bay and being let in.
As Shlumpy watches the ships dock, he reminisces about his family's flight from the Galactic Empire when he was a child. He was a nobleman, apparently, and was raised by his grandfather for most of his childhood. When he was about ten or so, his grandfather fell victim to a plot by rival nobles to frame him for treason and take his land and money.
So, he arranged for himself and his remaining family to take asylum in the Free Planets Alliance. There's no word on whether he himself managed to get out in time, or if he sent his family ahead of him before getting caught. It's established that he's dead now, but he was old enough at this time that he could have easily died of natural causes in the years since, so it could be either. Anyway, the point is that Shlumpy has learned through personal experience that being a well-placed and respected member of the Imperial leadership doesn't mean jack and shit for one's security, so he's not tempted to try to be one.
Back in the present, Shlumpy explains to his compatriots that the story about the pen was true. He always mixes a kernel of truth in with his lies. Because, in his words, lies alone may work on men, but women will always see through it if you don't include some truth.
...
Holy fuck is this guy one-note. Was he as monotonously like this in the books too, or is this Flanderization in action?
Maybe leaning into the playboy thing is supposed to be a defense mechanism for dealing with his painful family history. I guess? I dunno.
...
Wen-Li and his officers stride onto the Iserlohn bridge. They apologize for doubting Shlumpy's loyalty, and congratulate him on the sterling performance. Also, they just casually mention that they've stunned the rest of the Iserlohn's 500,000-strong crew with sleeping gas. Which...they had enough of on hand to gas the whole station with? I guess? Maybe the Imperials already had that set up as an anti-boarding measure or something.
Half a million POW's on top of the capture of the dreaded Iserlohn. Not a bad day. And all it took was a bunch of unlikely coincidences and the enemies all being so impossibly stupid that it's hard to explain why this wouldn't have already happened years ago.
Meanwhile, wherever the garrison fleet is randomly fucking around at the moment, Tweedledum gets a distress call from the station, saying that there's a mutiny going on and they need troop reinforcements aboard. He gives the order to turn around and head back to bail out Tweedledee's dumb ass, but Oberstein advises him to reconsider. This is a trap, he insists. The communications blackout ending just now and letting them get that one message through doesn't make sense for a situation where the station command is under siege by mutineers. Tweedledum brushes that off, because he outranks him so fuck you.
God, just look at Oberstein's face on the right there:
I'm at least fairly sure that he's supposed to be a bad guy, but it's hard to have anything but sympathy for him throughout this sequence.
So, the garrison fleet returns to the Iserlohn, and Wen-Li orders his men to orient the Mjolnir cannon into position.
...erm. They stunned the entire crew of this one-of-a-kind supertech weapon. I don't know how many of the 500,000 personnel aboard the Iserlohn were essential for operating the main gun, but I'd assume that there's at least a small-ish team of specialists required. How the hell do Wen-Li's people know how to operate this thing within just hours of taking it over?
Whatever.
Wen-Li decides to be merciful, and just disintegrates a handful of ships at the edges of the incoming fleet before telling them they'd better retreat; they won't be pursued if they do. Aboard the garrison flagship, Oberstein tells Tweedledum that retreat seems like a good idea if the enemy is being kind enough to permit it, and his sensor officer reports that the rest of the Alliance 13th fleet is coming up behind them. If they don't head back into imperial space now, they'll be flanked by a larger fleet and by the Iserlohn.
But, Tweedledum refuses. Of course. He informs Wen-Li that he must not understand the heart of a true warrior if he thinks his men are wiling to return and face the Kaiser having lost his greatest fortress. He orders the fleet to make a suicide run on the station, trying to damage it as much as possible before going down.
Oberstein, meanwhile, quietly boards a shuttle and puts as much distance between himself and the flagship as he possibly can.
On the Iserlohn, Wen-Li sighs and shakes his head, musing to himself that the "heart of the warrior" and idiots like Tweedledum who believe in it are the reason why this war can never end. He fires the big gun once more, this time hitting the fleet dead center and taking out the flagship and most of the vessels nearest to it.
Relieved of their idiot commander, the remaining garrison ships turn tail and run. By the look of things, Wen-Li managed to get away with only destroying about a third or so of the enemy fleet.
He tells Greenhill to contact Alliance HQ and have them bring more ships and personnel in to make the occupation permanent and deal with the many captured enemies. He's exhausted, and hoping to never command another army after today. And hoping even more that he won't need to, now that the Alliance has the advantage and he's made a show of good faith to the Imperials by sparing as many as he could. We're still near the beginning of the series though, so no dice.
Cut to the retreating Imperial ships, one of which has Oberstein's shuttle docked to it.
Oberstein is wondering what fate will await him back home. On one hand, as the highest ranking surviving officer he'd be an easy person to blame for this utter catastrophe. On the other, he can truthfully say that he was the one guy actually doing due diligence all along, and that the whole thing would have been prevented if he'd been listened to...assuming any proof of this survived the destruction of the flagship. Like I said, Oberstein may be a slimy one, but it's really hard to not be sympathetic to him in this two-parter.
Cut then to the capital building of the Republic of Fezzan, where prime minister Adrian Rubinsky hears about this development and has to reassess all his plans for Fezzan's near future. He looks a little bit less like Lex Luthor than he did in the OVA, but there's still a scare chord when he turns toward the camera like we're supposed to fear and hate him for whatever reason.
He ends up deciding he needs to have his sources on the Alliance homeworld of Heinessen learn more about this Yang Wen-Li character. Which strikes me as completely reasonable and innocuous, but once again the music and framing disagree. End episode.
One episode out of the seven DNT and two OVA episodes I watched so far has been anything approaching "good." The rest ranged from so-so to just plain stupid like this one.
LotGH doesn't look like it'll be winning me over any time soon.
As I recently disclosed, I'm going to be raising my first child starting in a few months, and I need all the income I can get. On a less newsworthy note, my queue is really, really long, which is probably equally frustrating for all involved. So, I've decided to adjust my update schedule with addition of a fast lane.
I'll be adding a separate queue. Twice a month, I will do an extra post from that queue. Commissioning something on the fast lane will cost 50% more, patron benefits included. If you have something already in queue, I can switch it onto the fast lane for 50% of the original price. To prevent the fast lane from being monopolized, I will be restricting this to commissioned projects consisting of no more than 2 animu or TV length episodes or short-story/single issue prose and comic works.
Message me here, on Discord or Patreon, or by email to hasten your commission along. Thank you all once again for your continual interest and support.
Well, that's a miss I guess. I'll try to defend this episode a bit.
I think the Empire's incompetence is a good way of showing that it can be just as inefficient as the Alliance, and even more so, thereby further avoiding the "trains running on time" myth you mentioned. I'm no history buff, but from what I know errors similar to those made by Iserlohn's admirals weren't uncommon in fascist militaries. Stockhausen (Tweedledee) insisting to see the Rosen Ritters in person is stupid, but it's the kind of thing that an arrogant aristocratic officer who is confident in his fortress' defenses would demand. He could also be wary of their communications being intercepted by the enemy (after all, we've seen how deadly and convenient electronic warfare can be in this setting). Besides, they're already next to the control room when security issues start appearing, and by that point he's too impatient to consider them. Similarly, the entire station surrendering seems to me like the consequence of an authoritarian command structure, where the loss or capture of the supreme commander isn't planend for due to overconfidence and crippling when it happens. Same thing with the Admiral's headquarters controlling most of the station and the Thor Hammer.
As for the Rosen Ritter being imperfect infiltrators, well, Von Schönkopf and his pals' experience of Imperial life might be limited, but it's still the best the Alliance has. (Alliance and Imperial infiltrators appear very uncommon in LoGH due to the difficulty of travel between the two nations, with only Fezzan having an elaborate spy network). And they definitely needed to take Stockhausen hostage in order to seize the station intact, otherwise he could've tried to escape while the zealous security officers would fight the infiltrators, which easily could've resulted in the control room being destroyed.
Regarding the 13th Fleet's jamming abilities, my best guess is that they were able to outmaneuver the garrison fleet and place themselves in a way that allowed them to cut off the enemy comms. The garrison probably noticed that they were cut off from Iserlohn, but Seeckt (Tweedledum) continued the search partly because he's an overconfident idiot who hates Stockhausen, and partly because losing comms in battle seems common in this setting. I'll concede that the way jamming works is very vague and plot-dependant though (I have some headcanons to justify it, but most of the time it really just seems to happen karmically to the commander who's doomed to lose the battle).
Then there's Seeckt's charge at Iserlohn, which I think is a really powerful scene that embodies one of the series' themes : egocentric leaders sacrificing millions of people in order to further their goals, whether it's Seeckt's bullshit "warrior's honor" philosophy, Reinhard's megalomaniacal conquest of the stars, or so, so many others I can't talk about yet. In that precise case, it's a much-needed rebuttal of the trope where fanatical soldiers of an Imperial power die to the last man in a futile assault, which is sometimes portrayed in an uncomfortably glorified way. It's a refreshing message for a mil sci-fi work and an anime, and I think it's one of the points where LoGH truly shows how superior it is as a war story compared to, say, Starship Troopers (the book) or GATE.
The Law of LGA is the Plan of a Genius shall almost always succeed unless it's opposed by another Genius. If this happens, it becomes a matter of which Genius is more of a Genius,
Well, that's a miss I guess. I'll try to defend this episode a bit.
I think the Empire's incompetence is a good way of showing that it can be just as inefficient as the Alliance, and even more so, thereby further avoiding the "trains running on time" myth you mentioned. I'm no history buff, but from what I know errors similar to those made by Iserlohn's admirals weren't uncommon in fascist militaries. Stockhausen (Tweedledee) insisting to see the Rosen Ritters in person is stupid, but it's the kind of thing that an arrogant aristocratic officer who is confident in his fortress' defenses would demand. He could also be wary of their communications being intercepted by the enemy (after all, we've seen how deadly and convenient electronic warfare can be in this setting). Besides, they're already next to the control room when security issues start appearing, and by that point he's too impatient to consider them. Similarly, the entire station surrendering seems to me like the consequence of an authoritarian command structure, where the loss or capture of the supreme commander isn't planend for due to overconfidence and crippling when it happens. Same thing with the Admiral's headquarters controlling most of the station and the Thor Hammer.
As for the Rosen Ritter being imperfect infiltrators, well, Von Schönkopf and his pals' experience of Imperial life might be limited, but it's still the best the Alliance has. (Alliance and Imperial infiltrators appear very uncommon in LoGH due to the difficulty of travel between the two nations, with only Fezzan having an elaborate spy network). And they definitely needed to take Stockhausen hostage in order to seize the station intact, otherwise he could've tried to escape while the zealous security officers would fight the infiltrators, which easily could've resulted in the control room being destroyed.
Regarding the 13th Fleet's jamming abilities, my best guess is that they were able to outmaneuver the garrison fleet and place themselves in a way that allowed them to cut off the enemy comms. The garrison probably noticed that they were cut off from Iserlohn, but Seeckt (Tweedledum) continued the search partly because he's an overconfident idiot who hates Stockhausen, and partly because losing comms in battle seems common in this setting. I'll concede that the way jamming works is very vague and plot-dependant though (I have some headcanons to justify it, but most of the time it really just seems to happen karmically to the commander who's doomed to lose the battle).
Then there's Seeckt's charge at Iserlohn, which I think is a really powerful scene that embodies one of the series' themes : egocentric leaders sacrificing millions of people in order to further their goals, whether it's Seeckt's bullshit "warrior's honor" philosophy, Reinhard's megalomaniacal conquest of the stars, or so, so many others I can't talk about yet. In that precise case, it's a much-needed rebuttal of the trope where fanatical soldiers of an Imperial power die to the last man in a futile assault, which is sometimes portrayed in an uncomfortably glorified way. It's a refreshing message for a mil sci-fi work and an anime, and I think it's one of the points where LoGH truly shows how superior it is as a war story compared to, say, Starship Troopers (the book) or GATE.
"Legend of the Galactic Heroes: a better war story than GATE."
Glowing praise there.
I might agree with your reading if it was just the Imperials being that incompetent in this two-parter. Thing is, the Alliance really wasn't any better. Their stupidity just didn't hurt them the way the imperials' did because Wen-Li was there to give them his metaphysical genius bonus.
So, literally no one on the bridge was ever an Imperial soldier. Or even old enough to have gotten a sense of Imperial society from an adult perspective.
It's also such a missed opportunity from the narrative perspective, considering the supposed themes of the show. A proper imperial defector would be able to directly compare the two nations, to openly state where they differ and where, depressingly, they are the same. It's a unique perspective that would be great to have in a show like that.
"Legend of the Galactic Heroes: a better war story than GATE."
Glowing praise there.
I might agree with your reading if it was just the Imperials being that incompetent in this two-parter. Thing is, the Alliance really wasn't any better. Their stupidity just didn't hurt them the way the imperials' did because Wen-Li was there to give them his metaphysical genius bonus.
I mean, in that precise context I was complimenting LoGH for having a better political messaging. GATE's glorification of imperialist warfare and nationalist fanaticism should be a low bar to clear, but it's unfortunately very common in military fiction, making LoGH remarkable for (mostly) avoiding it. I see your point though, being better than GATE doesn't necessarily mean much.
I suppose better comparisons would be with stuff like the Honorverse and Crest of the Stars, which unlike GATE aren't complete trash and can rival LoGH from an entertainment perspective, but still have unsavoury political messages that LoGH generally avoids, counters or deal with more intelligently.
As for the Alliance being stupid, I'll have to disagree. Well, Schönkopf not covering his tattoo properly was a dumb element to create cheap tension, but aside from this ? Yang's plan is desperate and hinges on the Imperials' stupidity and infighting, but the Alliance has been fighting these guys for a while and has a reasonable amount of intel on Iserlohn. Some information on enemy commanders also appears to be public knowledge in the military, as seen at Astarte when Yang's CO comments on Reinhardt's young age and inexperience. It seems that he was aware enough about the situation at the Fortress to exploit it, and his plan isn't just a case of him reading the script.
I know it might seem like I'm giving the series too much leeway, and maybe it's the case. I tend to be generous with some of the show's flaws and plot conveniences (well, mostly when they favour the Alliance, I'll be harsher on some Imperial victories) because I like the characters, the themes, the space pew pew and the general vibe. Since DNT has so far failed to grab you, I can understand why that's not your case. Ah well, as much as I wish you'd like it more, it's at least interesting to see a critical approach of a work I like.
It's also such a missed opportunity from the narrative perspective, considering the supposed themes of the show. A proper imperial defector would be able to directly compare the two nations, to openly state where they differ and where, depressingly, they are the same. It's a unique perspective that would be great to have in a show like that.
I agree about that one. I think it's written that way to justify the Rosen Ritter not being recognised by the security officers, but it could also be explained in other ways (a more significant disguise for example) that would let them have a more elaborate knowledge of the Empire. Even if the author prefered Schönkopf's backstory as a child immigrant, which does have its ups, not writing one of his less famous subordinates as an adult defector was a missed opportunity.
