You might remember my friend Grant from On watching Free! with straight men. While I’m finishing up the final revisions to my book, I’ve asked Grant to wax philosophical on his favorite anime of the moment, Kill La Kill.
Grant is a lot more interested in academia than I am, and this post is both longer and more analytical than my average anime review. I’m excited to see what you guys think.
Warning, there are a ton of spoilers here, both for Kill La Kill and for Gurren Lagann.
Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann is probably my second favorite anime ever, and certainly my favorite anime to talk about. Many reviewers—even those that like the show—see it as mostly random fun. As happy as I am that other people like it for any reason, I’m always a bit disappointed in that evaluation. To me, Gurren Lagann is more philosophically “deep” than many shows traditionally considered such.
Just because you don’t have characters engaging in extended discussions or monologues with lots of philosophical and psychological jargon doesn’t mean a show isn’t saying some very deep things. It just might be saying them visually, symbolically, even allegorically. Gurren Lagann’s text is incredibly dense and incredibly semantically rich, and it’s a shame not to see more in it than the hotblooded yelling, “randomness,” and technicolor explosions.
I say all this so that you’ll understand that my expectations for Kill la Kill, produced by the same writer/director team as Gurren Lagann, were incredibly high. I binge-watched the first 16 episodes over a couple days, but it was only with the release of episode 17, “Tell Me Why,” that I think I developed a fairly solid handle on what is going on in the show thematically.
Gurren Lagann pitted human flourishing and anarchy against Malthusian doomsaying and tyranny, but a major sub-theme was how people are shaped by their parents and how they react to their parents’ legacy.
Gurren Lagann’s Rossiu Adai was the bastard son of the elder of Adai village. The elder ruled Adai village as a theocracy, using religion to veil the way he carefully managed the subterranean town’s population by forcible exile to the inhospitable surface. Faced with a similar population management problem as an adult, Rossiu combined a cold, calculating, managerial approach with strongarm tactics, both traits he learned from his father.
Kamina is driven to follow after his father when he escapes Jiha village. Kamina sees making it to the surface as a hurdle his father had set for him to clear before he could join him, physically and in manhood. Kamina also acts as a foster parent for Simon, and much of Simon’s character growth comes in reaction to his belief that he can never live up to Kamina’s example. His attempts to replace the void in the group left by Kamina’s death by emulating Kamina fail. He can only step into a leadership role after accepting that it’s okay for him to do it his own way.
I originally thought that Kill la Kill was going to be primarily about fascism. The first words we hear in the series are about the Nazi party’s rise to power, and indeed the entire school is run fascistically. Satsuki Kiryuin rules the school as her personal fiefdom, while arguing, farcically, that the system she’s built is a “meritocracy.”
I half expected Satsuki to add “We’ve always been at war with Eastasia” to the end of the monologue screenshotted above. We even get a none-too-subtle reference to eugenics in the form of the school’s “Naturals Election.”
But episode 17 upends things quite a bit. Satsuki betrays her mother Ragyo with a literal stab in the back, and tells us emphatically that she acts not to usurp her mother’s position but to depose her and fight against her cause—this coming in the very same episode that our heroine Ryoko decides to embrace her own father’s struggle against the invading Life Fibers.
Director Hiroyuki Imaishi and writer Kazuki Nakashima are revisiting the Gurren Lagann‘s theme of family influence in Kill la Kill, this time bringing it to the center of the story.
Ryuko and Satsuki are set up early as a diametric pair, and it’s worth exploring the depths of this inverted parallel. Each has a missing parent—Ryuko’s mother died, and Satsuki’s father has been absent except in flashbacks. But while Ryuko and her father Isshin were distant, Satsuki and her mother Ragyo are uncomfortably intimate. Each girl’s other parent was or is the head of one of two opposed organizations–Nudist Beach and Revocs (styled “REVOCS”). Each girl received a kamui, but each gift carried a different set of expectations.
First let’s consider Ryuko, Isshin, and Senketsu. Mikisugi tells us—and we have as yet no reason to doubt him—that Isshin created Senketsu to protect Ryuko, presumably from those who would do her harm because of her heritage. Ryuko names Senketsu herself. We’re told that the name means “first blood,” and Ryuko chooses the name because it was the initial contact with her blood that awakened Senketsu. I certainly wouldn’t be the first commentator to point out the the name also signifies a first menstrual cycle—a rite of passage into womanhood indicating the start of sexual maturity. Further than that, though, we can see meaning in the fact that Ryuko is literally tied by blood to Senketsu, who was made by her father, and blood relative, Isshin, and who shares Isshin’s eye-patched visage.
The primary problem-solving tool that Isshin bequeaths to Ryuko is self-reliance. She uses that inheritance in her quest to learn more about her father’s motives and beliefs and to discover the reasons for his murder. Ryuko constantly tries to avoid dragging others into her personal battles, only grudgingly bringing along members of her surrogate family, the Mankanshokus.
The closest analogue Ryuko has in the cast of Gurren Lagann is Simon. As Simon steps out of his deceased foster parent, Kamina’s, shadow to lead the organization Kamina built, so Ryuko chooses to follow her deceased father’s footsteps and fight alongside the organization he built. Before they can assume additional responsibility, both Simon and Ryuko go through a period of withdrawal as they overcome personal misgivings about their own abilities. Simon has trouble accepting Kamina’s death and has apprehensions about being able to “replace” him as he feels the others expect, and Ryuko doubts her ability to maintain control while wearing Senketsu. Like Simon, Ryuko is willing to fight alone, but appreciates allies that stand with her of their own volition.
Now let’s look at Satsuki, Ragyo, and Junketsu. Satsuki is given her white kamui, Junketsu, by her father as a “wedding dress,” thereby tying Junketsu to a very different rite of passage than the one to which Ryuko’s Senketsu is tied. Compared to menstruation, marriage carries very different cultural baggage. The white of a wedding dress is symbolic of virginal purity, and indeed “Junketsu” means “purity.” Satsuki is being groomed as her mother’s successor as head of the Revocs Corporation and as instrument of the Life Fibers.
Junketsu is meant as a tool for Satsuki to use as she grows into the role she is expected to fill–both as a woman and as her mother’s successor. There are a million strings attached. Satsuki is also tied by blood to her kamui, but while Ryoku and Senketsu have a symbiotic relationship, Junketsu is a burden for Satsuki to wear. Even though it enhances her abilities, it’s primarily a parasite. Likewise, while Ryoku feels liberated by her burgeoning connection to her father, Satsuki is stifled by her connection with her mother.
The primary problem-solving tool in which Ragyo trains Satsuki is the domination of others. Satsuki uses that skill in her attempt to get out from under her mother’s thumb and quash her mother’s ambitions. Satsuki is obsessed with building an ever-stronger army of subordinates, picking her top officers as much for their loyalty as their strength. She punishes disobedience with death and rewards success in carrying out her will with more powerful weapons and positions of honor and authority.
Satsuki’s nearest counterpart in Gurren Lagann is Rossiu. In the conversation that sparked this article, Lauren herself pointed out to me that the two even look similar. Like Rossiu, Satsuki is faced with an impending disaster of apocalyptic proportions, and like Rossiu, she responds to that threat in the only way she knows how: by treating people like chessmen, with no consideration for their autonomy and a disregard for their rights to keep their lives. Both Rossiu and Satsuki learned to approach problems this way from watching their parents’ respective examples as children. Both Rossiu and Satsuki commit great crimes in their efforts to save humanity, but the audience understands why they might act this way and sympathizes even if they don’t approve.
The story of Kill la Kill thus far has been the story of two girls exploring what their family ties mean to them and how they react to developing a fuller understanding of their relationship with their parents and their parents’ legacies. What I’m most interested in finding out in the remaining episodes is what the fallout from Satsuki’s staggering hypocrisy will be, and whether she’s redeemable. Coming out of Satsuki’s mouth, words like “purity” and “meritocracy” drip with irony, and she is using totalitarian methods to fight a tyrant. Will she get some kind of comeuppance? And will she emerge from her journey broken or healed?
In Gurren Lagann, Simon absolves Rossiu of his misdeeds while demonstrating through his actions that there is an alternative way to approach things, a way that is collaborative and voluntary as opposed to dictatorial and coercive. Since Kill la Kill is about family, I wonder if Satsuki will learn that she should have relied more on the family that she has built for herself, the Elite Four, and abandoned the notion of rule by terror.
Can tyranny destroy tyranny? Can you beat the system by playing by the system’s rules? Gurren Lagann’s answer was an emphatic “no,” and Kill la Kill has already played with this question in microcosm in episode 7, “A Loser I Can’t Hate,” wherein Mako and Ryuko’s “Fight Club” threatens to tear the Mankanshoku family apart.
That said, where we go from here is anybody’s guess. Gurren Lagann became well-known for its ability to repeatedly outdo itself in shocking its audience, despite that audience’s perpetual certainty that this time it had seen everything. In light of that, I wouldn’t be surprised if Kill la Kill has a few aces left up it’s sleeve. As things stand it is already a worthy successor to Gurren Lagann and an impressive first show from Trigger. Will Kill la Kill embrace the path of it’s older sibling, or forge one anew?
14 Comments.
Great read, I hadn’t thought to look at Kill La Kill that way but it all makes sense now. I look forward to seeing where the rest of this series goes
Justin: Glad you liked it! I’m excited too! About to watch the next episode right now!
Or not. Apparently it’s delayed.
Really intersting read, hadn’t thought of their armor in that light before. However Ryuukos dad designing that outfit knowing his daughter was going to wear it is really weird.
Tanya: You may remember that Ryuko asks Mikisugi about this, and he says, basically, “chalk that up to your dad’s taste in clothes.” On the reading I outline above, this plays into the broader concept of what Isshin wants for his daughter (I think the specific message is “embrace and enjoy your sexuality). By contrast, Junketsu being a wedding dress is telling Satsuki that she is to alienate and commodify her sexuality, using marriage (and sex) as a way to advance her mother’s agenda. Satsuki’s outfit is if anything more revealing than Ryuko’s, but with Satsuki it plays into the broader theme of hypocrisy, I think. It also touches on some issues of class that the show is playing with.
People are constantly telling Ryuko that she should be ashamed. Basically the only one who calls out Satsuki in this way is Ryuko. The difference is one of status–no one would dare question Satsuki. Think also about how society holds upper class women to one standard of modesty, but lower class women to another. The same outfit might be “daring” on a rich woman and “trashy” on a poor one.
I didn’t want to talk too much about the outfits in the post because (a) that’s been done to death and (b) I didn’t want to dignify the fanservice too much and (c) denouncing it as unnecessary (at least in degree) would be just an indirect way of wallowing in it.
Think of how if a news network doesn’t want to cover (ex) the Anna Nicole Smith trial, it might cover the coverage of other networks, thereby at once engaging in and distancing itself from the lowbrow topic.
Which isn’t to say I’m displeased the topic was brought up! It’s sort of the elephant in the room with this show.
Will you ever write an article about episode 7, on the different social classes, their living conditions and how they treated due to their star status?
I probably won’t be reviewing any episodes individually, so I’ll make a couple comments here.
One way of framing the social progress from tribal societies and medieval feudalism to more modern means of organization is as a gradual tradition from a society of *status* to a society of *contract.* We start out with societies that are deeply authoritarian, modeled on traditional family relations. Those with authority control those with less authority and are supposed to take care of them. This is a vertical, hierarchical order.
A society based on *contract* is based on the idea that all authority should be mutual; I don’t have any rights over you that you don’t have over me. There will still be inequality, but it won’t be hard-coded into the system like before, where if my dad’s a blacksmith I’m going to be a blacksmith and if your dad is a duke you’re going to be a duchess.
On this model, fascism (and also communism and socialism, but for the show fascism is the relevant one) can be characterized as a regression from a *contract* society to a *status* society. Who you are in life depends on being in favor with those higher up the chain.
I think the show does a good job of expressing that idea. Here’s a short article about it: http://www.panarchy.org/maine/contract.html
One thing I don’t like is that episode 7 in some places seems to be condemning wealth per se as antithetical to human happiness. This “the poor are happier” myth is related to the myth of the “noble savage” and is a position that has been used over the centuries to excuse the treatment of slaves and to remove the sense of urgency from the plight of the poor. After all, the poor have the best things in life, like family, right?
I understand why episode 7 uses the trope–the writer is trying to tell us that buying in to the system won’t help you beat it and won’t make you happy. Still, I wish the trope would die and stay dead. Here’s some reading on the happiness-wealth link: http://blogs.worldbank.org/africacan/poor-but-happy
http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/wonkblog/wp/2013/04/29/yes-money-really-can-buy-happiness/
http://www.economist.com/blogs/graphicdetail/2013/05/daily-chart-0
If you have time, this TED talk makes the link between wealth and happiness much more concrete. I always get choked up watching it! http://www.ted.com/talks/hans_rosling_and_the_magic_washing_machine.html
I don’t think condemning wealth should be a trope that should be thrown away especially when it’s used as well as it is in ep 7 because kill la kill is so character driven, and I think that should always be taken into account no matter what trope is being used.
Episode 7 showed how intelligent Mako actually is.
I think the family were actually happiest when Mako was a one star. Neither Mako or Ryuko *like* the slums, they just *accepted* going aaaall the way back down because their moral code had gotten SO bad. Though when they got too high up on he food chain things got really bad, I think Mako would love to have her family live in a one star area even now. The kids had space to run around, the food was healthy, they had beds, it was colourful, mama mako has always looked after her children as well as she could, making sure they’re clothes are clean and making sure they’re fed and bringing up mako to be one of the few characters who loves and encourages Ryuko to be sexually confident and a strong fighter, which if the way the men are in the family says anything, would’ve taken a lot of effort. Ryuko loved it there too, it was perfect.
When Mako pointed out that if they got rid of the club they would be sent back to the slums, Ryuko wasn’t happy about it, nor did she preach, she took a long moment in thought before she eventually said ‘that’s fine with me’.
Because there is no doubt that the slums are crap but family is REALLY important to Ryuko, it’s something she hasn’t had all her life. That is her personality. Her lack of it is why she’s so mean in the beginning of the series. It’s why she takes a while to accept Mako in he life. It’s why she apologizes to Makos father even though he was in the wrong when he was on top of her when she was woke up injured in Makos house. So when it comes to ‘After all, the poor have the best things in life, like family, right?’ in her position YES definitely. Anything else would have been completely out of character for her, it’s a huge part of her.
Common story tropes shouldn’t be frowned upon when they not only make sense but when it gives room for more character development. It’s not a one off part of Makos life like any other show would most likely do, then go back to life for the rest of the series like nothing ever happened. It was the darkest part of her life, but since then she’s not only always been eager to be important to her loved ones but made sure it’s in ways she can handle, like buying them special food from osaka. She is still very ambitious and stubborn.
However I think Mako has accepted that she messed up so bad (which I can’t blame her for, the road to hell is paved with good intentions) that even though being one star was the best situation they’d been in, she would have to be a position of responsibility that she just hasn’t got the self-restraint to handle. She still wants her family to have special stuff, but though she is capable, being given big responsibility isn’t something that she’s used to, shown by the most recent episode 18 when she was gobsmacked that the big guy gave her the job of clearing the arena, because she has pretty much always made her priority her loved ones.
(bloody hell that was long sorry)
Tanya, I agree with you’re analysis of what wad going on here in terms of characterization. And I agree that the family did seem to be happiest at the 1 star level. Still, “a little wealth is good, but too much is bad” is still a pretty negative message for basically the same reasons “the poor are happy” is a negative message. I wish the character development had been carried out another way.
I’ll probably make a post on tumblr but Ill write it here too. Being constantly objectified by men has resulted in Ryuuko growing up thinking about sexuality in a very negative way, which continues even after she gains control of senketsu (calling Satsooki a skank etc) which is the source of why she gets so uncomfortable about senketsus design. She is the only main woman that uses misogynistic language. She is constantly forced into sexual roles by men that the idea of her OWN personally being sexual in any way freaks her out, and sexuality completely controls her in a negative way (hence Senketsu turns into a monster when she transforms the first few times).
She constantly gets shamed by the men in the arena, whether it be verbally insulting her or panting at her with no regard for how uncomfortable it’s making her. Mako gives a big speech about how attractive Ryuuko is and is also very supportive of her fighting, throwing weapons, cheering and so on – and not purely because she thinks Ryuuko is attractive, but because she is genuinely on Ryuukos side and thinks what she’s doing is amazing, which is no surprise considering the men she has always been surrounded with don’t treat any other women beside Satsooki with any respect.
There a point where that tennis girl collapses because she lost, and the men of the arena are panting over her nakedness her with no regard for whether she is okay or not. Ryuuko growing up in a women hating society also reflect on her there, because regardless of not liking her she only smirks at enemies situation, while knowing fully well what it feels like to be in her position – as if it is a justified punishment, once again seeing sexuality in a dangerously negative light.
Later on in the series, living with Mako and her supportive mother treating her like a human being and loving her and supporting her obviously effects how she in turn treats women, as later on she tries her best to help an, as far as she knows, injured female student get to school on time, and puts a lot of effort into having her back. She still uses misogynistic language (like mama skank like daughter skank, calling her a bitch etc) but she’s gotten a lot better.
Growing up in a girl hating society(her previous school with boy bullys), she had grown to hate boys for their rape culture but also grew to hate girls – because she is surrounded by rape culture. As a result there is also indirect self hatred (like cersei lannister in the books). As she gets supported by other girls (Mako and Mama) she sees girls and sexuality in a more positive light, like you said, first period is becoming a woman, and she is accepting that sexuality doesn’t make her unpure (satsookis words) and recovering from her unhealthy introduction to her own sexuality. She is a flawed, great character.
This is great stuff! You’re right to point out that Ryoku is working through a lot of what I think (correct me if I’m wrong) would be called internalized misogyny. That’s an interesting idea, and the fact that they have leering men on screen mirroring the camera’s male gaze adds to the complexity of the situation.
That said, while the narrative is exploring Ryuko’s reaction to a patriarchal/rape culture environment, it is simultaneously pandering to cis het dudes in the audience like me (at least I *feel* pandered to). I wonder if this is unavoidable. Someone on twitter (@carouselcarouse maybe?) mentioned that the show manages to objectify/fetishize Ryuko and Satsuki without minimizing or dehumanizing them…that sounds right to me, but I don’t feel that it’s my place to say so, if that makes sense.
Please post a link if you do write any more on this!
I really wish kill la kill didn’t have the rape jokes earlier in the series, because it weren’t for that I would give it 5/5. It *really* brings it down. They were so gross and they didn’t even develop the characters. It’s not like the teacher or the mako males learnt to respect Ryuko and not do it anymore. They were completely uncalled for in every way possible. I re-watch episodes constantly but not the first three. Its a shame such a great show has such a huge flaw like that.
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[…] that’s only one interpretation. Earlier this year, I published Grant’s guest post on Kill La Kill and the way our families make us who we are. Later, Mike Rugnetta of the PBS Idea […]