This will hopefully be the most derogatory post I will ever make about the age old franchise. I really, really hope so.

In my childhood I watched the final episodes of the series, and announced this the ‘bestest series ever’. It was my infatuation with Anavel Gato’s Neue Ziel that drove me to such a conclusion – I had actually played the Generations games and Encounters in Space (which I believe is the best MS Gundam game ever made, period) before watching Stardust Memory, and the Ziel’s massive beam saber that in one fell stroke dispatched grunts I would otherwise have trouble with using my other suits was awing. And the fact that he looked like the freaking grim reaper doing it. All this was cemented by the sight of it in glorious animation, and for nights on end for the chibi-Ningyo it was sieg Zeon, sieg Zeon.

This all just to tell you that I went in the first two episodes of Stardust Memory positive, without too much a critical light. It’s a fond childhood memory, I’ll like it, is what I thought.

So does that mean it didn’t live up to that? That it was another series to be gutter kicked? Well, I’ll tell you about that after I vent what must be vented. Note that this is less a synopsis and more a discharge of complaints. We all have to do it, sometimes.

Gundam is known for its pseudo-militarisms. Elder blogger ghostlightning reminded me of this. I hope he doesn’t too much mind my tactless use of the word elder. It really should be one of the things at the top of one’s mind when one watches Gundam – the acceptance that you have to take the army policies and regulations with a pinch of salt. Yet this wasn’t the mindset I held when I tackled the series; I largely blame MS Igloo, which in my opinion had a very believable depiction of the Zeonic military. Everything was systematic, had rank and regulations. Thus, coming right out of that series and into this one, I inevitably drew comparisons in logic.

So without further ado, the venting:

I’m beyond nitpicking names. Yes, his name is Burning. In his defense, the pronunciation can actually be romanized as Banning. I don’t know.

We are introduced to protagonist Uraki Kou while he is in a training exercise, attempting to mark a GM with a dated Zaku unit.

He is of course unsuccessful, his unit being heavily outmatched. This training is actually interesting in how it could possibly be a conditioning exercise; done to imprint the thought in trainees minds that Federation suits are superior to Zeonic ones. Inner propaganda? No, probably just over-analysis.

One thing I would like to mention though is the evolution of this animation. It sure has gone a long way from the days of its depiction in Mobile Suit Gundam.

We’re given insight into the everyday lives of the trainees. A degree of male macho is displayed. Men have a natural penchant for machinery; I’m not condemning this. Rather, I like this depiction of indulgence in ‘mecha porn’; I believe it’s natural for these trainees to be thus interested in the mobile suit machinery around them. After all, much of a mobile suit’s design seems aesthetically inclined – depicted as flexible machines without the brunt of say, a tank. No complaints yet, but…

With the introduction of the two Gundam units I started finding myself shaking my head.

Ace pilot Anavel Gato plans to steal one of the Gundam units to facilitate the revival of Zeon. In essence that’s a sound plot device; prototype hijacks can lead to exciting chase and reclaim scenes, as well as a hint of irony in seeing an allied weapon in the hands of the enemy from the protagonist’s perspective. But when one is to depict a hijacking, there should be a particular focus on infiltration and stealing. It’s only logical – that’s what makes hijacking exciting, the thrill of stealing expensive mechanics and possibly being found out. So then, how in the name of justifiable narrative can one explain this?

Gato infiltrates the base by hiding under a tarp in the back of a jeep – no suspicion at all for that human-shaped lump underneath? Alright, so the premise here is that Federation security is lax, and their protocols are crappy. Okay, sure, I’ll buy that and forgive the guard post to the entire center having all of one guard. But how am I supposed to believe that Gato can drive all the way to the hangar with the Gundams without coming to a single bit of resistance? So it’s dark, and there wouldn’t be any troops outside. Okay. But the Gundam hangar itself doesn’t have a single armed guard? The federation didn’t deem two multi-billion dollar prototypes worth protecting with even a single guardsman?

Gato simply walks into the hangar and strikes up conversation with Kou and his friend, who were just there to ogle the Gundams. At this point my mouth was agape – it’s analogous to Billy Bishop walking into that German aerodome, climbing into a German fighter and taking off with it, the Germans yelling profanity behind him. Because Gato does exactly that, he literally says, magnificent, what a superb Mobile Suit,

Now you know what to say when you want to steal that awesome showcase car.

let me check it out. He then climbs in and steals the suit, mission successful.

What?

Gato is simply the smoothest criminal the Universal Century has ever seen, because to this moment I’m still stunned by his exploits. It hurts me to say that even SEED was more logical with its initial hijacking scene; at least an armed struggle was depicted in that one.

Well, it’s not entirely true that there was no struggle, but it all happens after the hijacking. Also, this so called ‘struggle’ brings up a whole new set of holes.
In a protagonist’s headstrong fashion, upon realizing who he was talking to wasn’t a federation superior, Kou leaps into the other Gundam unit, GP01, to chase after the second. Really, the development researcher asked for it herself.

Where very professional statements are spoken.

Kou of course needs only about twenty seconds time to learn how to move, use the thrusters and draw the beam saber. Then again, Gato used no time at all, making me wonder if Federation suit cockpits are designed to function exactly as Zeonic suit cockpits do (or perhaps the other way around), so that an eventual hijacking would be made much easier.
This is where Gato’s complete unwillingness to kill anybody, namely Kou, becomes glaringly obvious. He might as well be sitting in one Freedom Gundam yelling, ‘Uchitakunai!’.

In their first fight, his piloting and experience superior, the veteran Gato easily schools Kou. Yet despite all the chances he has, he never chooses to just stab the kid and put an end to a possibly very dangerous enemy. Isn’t it common sense to destroy the other Gundam unit you couldn’t steal? You’d think Zeon would be more afraid of Gundam units, after the White Devil wreaked havoc at every major war turning-point back in the day. And it’s not even subtle, too, like Gato seemingly having chances to stab at Kou’s openings. He literally just flies away after pinning Kou down and calling him an amateur. This is another mouth-agape moment.

What really slays me is Kou’s unmoving face.

And it’s not as if Gato doesn’t immediately get more chances to rectify his mistake. Kou and co. regroup and decide to continue the chase after GP02, and for some reason they allow Kou to stay in the GP01 as opposed to sticking a more experienced pilot in there. I excused them for this, telling myself that they didn’t have the time to switch units, and that among them all Kou now had the most experience operating the GP01. Thus the iconic unwitting protagonist officially joins with the awesome Gundam prototype, I suppose.

Kou intercepts Gato a second time, cursing Kou’s resistance and saying that he’s gone through too much to be stopped now – all the while he could just be STABBING the kid, but no.

Just SHOOT or STAB already

Kou does what a character in a narrative should never do: point out the holes. Gato escapes a second time. Kou manages to dispatch a Dom. Moving on.

Kou eliminates the Komusai pickup that was supposed to serve as Gato’s escape vessel – and I think now Gato somewhat regrets not killing him, because in their next encounter he exhibits a bit more of a fervor – albeit not much.

Not at this rate he isn’t

Gato and Kou meet a magical, third time, where more venting ensues.

YOU LET HIM!

Gato pins Kou again, this time with a bit more conviction of stabbing the kid when Nina Purpleton, the aforementioned R&D woman, tells Kou about GP02’s weakness; a cooling unit in the shield. Oh, yeah, put the weakness in the SHIELD. Most shields are made to withstand attacks, no? I’ll try to defend this fact, but really, I don’t think I can. Since GP02’s nuclear warhead is stored in the shield, a cooling unit nearby is reasonable – but that brings up the point of storing a nuclear warhead behind a large shield that’s bound to get hit not being too bright an idea. Yes, you would want to cover and conceal it, as it is very volatile goods, but isn’t just having the bazooka attached to the backpack unit out in the open still better than putting it somewhere that’s bound to receive enemy attacks?

AIM FOR THE HORN FOR MASSIVE DA- You know what, no. We’re above that.

And this is mouth agape moment number three; where for some reason stabbing his cooling unit causes Gato to immediately retreat. It’s just the shield, GP02 is completely unscathed! One could argue that he needed to escape before the cooling unit, well, lost all its cooling ability, but would it really take that long to just STAB KOU and get rid of his greatest rival? No? Just stab him while he’s stabbing the cooling unit! It’s not a cultured exchange of blows! It’s war!

Gato is a really, really talkative fellow when he even breaks out the ‘MARK MY WORDS’.

I’m also above poking fun at this scene.


WITH MY FORCE MAGIC

And that concludes my overview of the first two episodes. Yes, Stardust Memory is romanticized a fair bit; in a way it isn’t war and it is more a cultured exchange of blows, with Kou and Gato yelling ideals at one another as they try to kill each other. Normally it might be very entertaining to watch, a glittery, romanticized series of space drama – but it all becomes jarring if someone watches it right after watching MS Igloo, a series that presents the realisms of war. In Igloo, war isn’t glamorous. Propaganda, deceit, watching one’s comrades die, humiliation; It’s kill or be killed, and I grew to like their powerful messages very much. As such, the drama of Stardust Memory just didn’t rub me the right way.

Still, despite all this, I won’t say it’s bad. Space drama is actually one of the reasons one could be watching Gundam for. I’m poking fun at it, but I am nitpicking at some points.

As GL points out in his post here, Stardust Memory still possesses a degree of realism, with how the prototypes are, suitably, prototypes; they’re versions of mass production suits with higher specs, not army wiping death machines as depicted in something like SEED. They conduct field tests, as opposed to say, Kira immediately learning how to smoke hundreds of enemy MS the moment he sits into the Freedom. Now, I did say that I wouldn’t look at anyone else’s review that might change my ideas and thus affect my own, but this one sorta just appeared right in my face. plus, I don’t think it changed my outlook on the matter.

My idea of this may change still when I get to the I-field technology, but I’ll take that when it comes. Anabelle Gateaux still holds a special place in my heart, and I look forward to seeing the glorious Neue Ziel again. Sieg Zeon, and have a great Christmas.

Ningyo

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1. Anavel Gato, Solomon’s MAN of Destiny
2. Counting Down with Gundam
3. First Two: Karate King Kamille
4. Unicorn – The Mythical Creature of Possibilities