Showing posts with label comedy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comedy. Show all posts

Thursday, January 31, 2008

At home in the lonely hearts club

So I'm doing a semi-review, semi-link-centered, semi-exposition, semi-introspection, and all of it's going to be awesome.

Take a deep breath.

To help you relax, here's as the title might suggest a link to Sergent Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band as portrayed in Yellow Submarine. (By the way, while the song is pretty cool, I'm not overall a huge fan of that album, although I realize its merits)

So, under the unrelenting pressure of the TV writers strike (actually there have been moments of relention, due to various factors, but unrelenting sounds cool), mega-cool tv critic Alan Sepinwall has been taking a look at an old short-lived favorite (or at least fondly remembered) of his called Cupid (all of whose episodes can be found on youTube with a simple search (if you come up with more videos of music, such as the excellent though quite off-topic song and music video of Cupid's Chokehold by Gym Class Heroes, try searching for Cupid 1, since the episodes are broken into 5 pieces, as a general rule that's usually a good way to find broken up episodes on youTube). And obliged by my unrelenting loyalty to NJ's premier tv critic I have given it a shot.

I'm not going to do a real review because I haven't watched the whole series (currently I'm on ep. 9, out of however, I think only 15, although rumor has it that the series might be getting a do-over and being remade by the head writer) and my mind's still too sunk into the series to really have any sensibility to the review.

But some things to point out especially as they relate to that semi-introspection I've been hinting at.

First of all: The intro theme is pretty damn cool (the song's called "Human" by the Pretenders. At first, I wasn't crazy about it, it doesn't have that strong of a hook or an overwhelming energy, but it has a quiet intensity that grows on you. The nice little images of the intro also help with that.

So here's a link to Cupid's intro.

However, if what to see that quiet intensity really brought out in its intense sense (the Cupid intro more brings out the quiet, pleasant sense) check out the Pretenders video for the song which takes the intensity to a funny but really quite creepy place.

Also, notice the main line: "I'm only human on the inside." Where does the emphasis fall on that? If it's on the "human", the song is emphasizing her essential humanness, if it's only on "the inside" then there's the suggestion that on the outside she's something other than human, which the video also suggests. And if the song's having it both ways, then it's crazy, but heck, so are we all. After all, we're human on the inside.

But if I might return to that show Cupid. With reviews I usually have a lot of trouble explaining plots, not so much with Cupid, partially because the overall arches either were never finished or I didn't see them finish, but more so because this is an anthology show.

The focus is a couple of the week, either having problems or needing to be put together, and to help is Trevor Hale, who's convinced that he's actually Cupid, the Roman god of love, and he just might be (my view of the show is that it tends to say he is, but there's just a slight chance he might be otherwise...). Of course, if he's not Cupid, he's just delusional. And the spectacular feature of his delusion is that he's convinced he's been exiled to Earth as a mortal and needs to fix up 100 couples with true love before he can return to Olympus. To his fortune, he is placed under the care of a psychologist named Claire who sees his delusions as harmless and who runs a single therapy group. To his misfortune, Claire's views on love are very much different from his and often she works against his attempts to unite couples, although her actions often end up complementing his. Underneath it all is chemistry between Claire and Trevor, and to round out the cast is good old Champ, an actor and barkeep who's Trevor's roommate and acts in the everyman role.

Essentially its a fantasy-influenced romantic comedy with dramatic elements. If that doesn't sound that appealing, let me assure you that the comedy is very real and the dramatic elements often reach right to the core. Afterall, while it is melodramatic at times, it is melodramatic about the inherently melodramatic concept of love, which is truly beautiful none the less. But more than anything else, this show has charm to spare. I'm reminded of one of the posts my friend Howard did for me while I was away on vacation, Why I Watch the Tonight Show, and his conclusion is that its because of Jay's good-natured charm, well that's why I like Cupid. It's absolutely charming. And I guess that's because it's unashamedly about LOVE, in its both big and small, funny and dramatic, zany and serious forms, without taking itself too seriously or too lightly, and dancing away all the pretentiousness with mounts of utterly hilarious wit.

So for a preliminary review I'm giving it a 7 out of 10, because it is pretentious, it does get overdramatic, sometimes its storylines are silly or drawn out, sometimes its emotional arcs are rushed, but its got so much damn charm. (I think in the end you just have to label me a rank sentimentalist)

But I wanted to talk about this more because of its relation to the title of this post: The Lonely Hearts Club. And damn this show reminds me that I'm in that. If it wasn't so good, and heck, honestly if I was deeply involved with some other show (ie if Scrubs had produced a really nice season 6 and 7), I probably wouldn't watch it, because even when I'm laughing, even when I'm touched to the center of my being, it hurts. But maybe that's a good thing in the end. If you don't feel the hurt of love...

I have enough plans keep me busy forever. I have work. I have God. I don't need romance. But why then does a show like Cupid hurt? Just the wistfulness of could maybe be? In the end, no. Some don't need the dream of romance, but the reason why Cupid hurts is because I do. That's me. And so I need the pain, even if it is the bitter, bitter pain of loneliness, to keep that romantic part of me from decaying. Because I love romance with such a passion, to give it up...

Now you can't idolize romance, that's a sin. But to give up romance when it's such a central part of me, essentially because of fear, because despite the excuse of busy-ness, the real reason for avoiding romance is for me fear (especially given the questionable nature of some of my side projects), that's a sin. And as a good Christian, I must do God's will, not mine.

And besides, it's not that unlikely... it might be hard, but it's probably not that hard... it won't be perfect, but chances are it could be so good... maybe one fine day despite the tides of the past, there will be a woman who I can hold in my arms and love with total romance.

Perhaps that sounds sappy, perhaps that sounds foolish, perhaps there's a little crazy there too, but I'm only human on the inside, add emphasis where you choose.

Anyways, if you have something to drink (man, how I wish I had a glass of orange juice right now), let's raise a toast: To Love. And to God, the founder of the great feast of love, in all its many forms.

So take it to your head, take it to your HEART, and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!


Post-script: I have a special feature: reviews of certain Cupid episodes I found mega-awesome and certain Cupid episodes that have had a mega-awesome impact on me. It's also possible that some time later I might throw in a full review of Cupid, plus a review of episodes of less than highest caliber, and those that I simply haven't seen yet. But that's getting far too ahead of ourselves. For now though, check out the episode reviews I have now (I put them on a separate page since this is getting obscenely long) because they kick up the reviewerness up a notch, but they also kick up some of the introspection too, overall, they kick up the awesomeness up a notch (because of that very reason, I might do some ep. reviews of other shows I review too, maybe, if only I have the time...)

Because it was a funny episode, of our lives that is

Cupid's a pretty damn good show (as I have noted here). But that said it's a pretty uneven show. No episodes are really bad or unwatchable, but some are only so-so. But those episodes that are good, they're solid gold. And moreover, they've got so many nooks and crannies that they're worth talking about, whether just for a little bit (as I do) or for quite a bit (as the grand NJ TV guru Alan Sepinwall does). So talk I shall... for I AM RAND!!!

But for reasons of time, and perhaps even interest, I'm only going to hit the upper-crust of the episodes I've seen. It's a mixed bag of funny, dramatic, relateability, and straight-to-the-heart (usually obvious, but still valuable) truths about love. Even if the truth hurts sometimes. Even if just thinking about romance for a man lonely in that department is painful. But if an episode can conjure up such an emotional response, that's a testament to its quality (isn't it?).

Because of that a couple of the best episodes hurt enough that I can wax poetic (or perhaps pathetic (but how can the mighty and glorious Rand be pathetic?)) about them, especially since they were a bit close to home. But let me first highlight just some generally very good episodes (I'm planning to go back and do this with a lot of the other shows I've reviewed):

Ep. 3: Heaven, He's in Heaven (you can get the start here, I'll leave you smart internet-pioneers to find your way to the rest of the episode) (And here's the comments of Mr. Sepinwall on the episode (including input from the show's creator Rob Thomas))
- Touching episode about death, loss, and growing old - and about your husband spontaneously bursting out into song and dance in the middle of the day (and he's surprisingly good at it too). Hilarious and moving. That's Cupid.

Ep. 5: First Loves (start's here) (Mr. Sepinwall's comments)
- The central concept is cliche, but Cupid's about love, so the show's unabashed by cliches, or if abashed, it still runs gleefully into them. And there's plenty of glee here. And some soft played romance (with a nice twist ending). And then there's some more weighty drama in the background. Perhaps most important in the episode is it shows all the characters being themselves in a softly spectacular way, and if you love those characters, then the episode's just gold.

Ep. 6: Meat Market (start's here) (Mr. Sepinwall's comments)
-Dude, for Halloween the guys dressed up as the village people. And one of them thought there was a milkman in the group. And one of them thought they weren't gay. Dude. This is a fun, fun, funnity fun episode, with little gems of small drama because the fun just demands you love the characters. That's Cupid (once more).

Ep. 8: Heart of the Matter (start's here) (Mr. Sepinwall's comments)
-This episode is a tricky beast. It brings in a new character who's got some real comedic chops. It puts up a real solid barrier to the romance. And then it hits you with a surprise that neither you or the characters really know how to deal with. Does the episode hit some sour notes? A little. The introduced character slips into Trevor's life a little too easily and with too few questions (usually characters friendly with Trevor take some getting used to his whole Roman god thing). But the balance of so many different emotions. It's like a house of cards, except the house is holding. Have you ever looked at a house of cards? Imagine if despite all the gravity and balance issues it held. That's this episode, and that's Cupid at its best.

So those are some generally good episodes. Now let me touch on some episodes that have a particular sense for me:

Ep. 2: The Linguist (full links: 1/5, 2/5, 3/5, 4/5, 5/5) (Mr. Sepinwall's commentary as well) (well, I've got spoilers everywhere, but there's especially a lot of spoilers coming up about these episodes).
- This episode speaks to me for a couple reasons. First of all, the male of the week is a virgin. I actually don't like how this is played in the episode, since it's treated as a freak thing, which I don't think anyone outside of Hollywood would actually consider it (I mean its funny to talk about the 40-year old virgin when it's apparent that the whole thing is pure laughs, but here, while the show laughs at how other people react to a 35 (around that)-year old virgin, it also laughs at him, and that pisses me off a little). When I first saw that I basically felt I probably wouldn't like it. But even from the beginning there were a few elements of gorgeous charm.

First of all, the male was a linguist, and while linguistics isn't quite my field, it is still pretty cool. Secondly, it was dealing mostly w/ the university crowd, which I've grown up with (P-town all the way!!!). Thirdly, it had an interesting angle on how Claire might try to get to the root of Trevor's "delusions."

But then I thought about the reason why the man was a virgin. He had dedicated his life to his work. Sex, but more importantly romance, was a distraction and more importantly it sucked out his energy. But now his interest in work is fading, and he's still alone, and he's never really gotten the hang of the connections necessary for dating. Now I'm still highly interested in my work, but that could, without too much of a stretch be me in fifteen years or so.

And yet there is someone he has feelings for. And there's a secret he's hiding, one he doesn't really need to hide, but one which has defined him. But he lets that go for the woman he loves, and in helping her he revives his own interest in teaching linguistics. But through just tangles of circumstance, and more importantly tangles of prejudice, he starts to lose her. Yet with a bit of help from Cupid, well, he sheds his secret, and shows just how good a linguistics teacher he is, and then... well they were born to run. (funny thing, it's explicitly a quote from Bruce Springstein but they don't use his song at the end, probably because they can't afford it)

So let me give one more episode that struck me like The Thunderbolt:
Ep. 9: The End of Eros
-Again here's an episode that I started out disliking. The set-up was too cliche, a show about love and then there's a psychologist who doubts love. And I think (although my cultural time-line isn't perfect) this came out at a certain time when there were a lot of movies and such that dealt with people giving up on love (Down with Love, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, The Wedding Planner, etc.). But the male lead again struck me as interesting. He was an academic, in this case a cosmologist (ultra-cool field), he was petrifyingly nervous around women, but when he relaxed, say after he decided romance wasn't a concern, he was decently funny and decently happy and he had work and all that.

This could actually be me today, sometimes. Sometimes I just seem to give up on love. But love strikes him without his wanting. And moreover, it again uncovers a connection between his professional and personal love. Yet he resists.

Redeeming how pretentious anti-love is: Drunk Cupid. Drunk Cupid + Romance distracted Claire = male lead's not getting the help he needs. But Claire remembers about children, and she rallies Cupid's fundamental by nature belief in love, and they form a genius plan. Except, Cupid, wounded by events, scared to fail, wants to blow it all off at the last moment, except Claire says no! And they argue, all the while the plan seems to be falling to pieces. But then they bump into a button and a switch and a ... and all the plans they speculated on come up without them, even better than they planned, and then the planetarium lights up, and then it plays:

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

Beautiful. Maybe it makes me believe in love.

Maybe this whole show does. But if it does then what? Really, do I throw myself out there? Well, what if I do? What will that require in terms of school and projects and plans? It's so late in my college career and it's in such a critical part of my life and... And what about all of that and that and that and that?

I don't believe that everybody needs somebody. Some people will be more about friendships than romances, and some, from choice or circumstances, will be tied just barely to humanity, and while they need to hold on to those ties, they might not need romance.

And I don't really need romance. It's a Christian Creed that God's love is all you need. But it's not a sin to want romance. And I've always dreamed of it. And it's always inspired me. And... and... I believe in romantic love. And I believe in me and romantic love. And it's hard to imagine me giving up on it, without the surrender being at the root being about fear. And if that's the case... I think I can't really give up on love without giving up on a part of myself that's an essential part of who I am.

Cupid at its best is about that. That those who at their hearts are romantics cannot give up on romance without betraying a part of themselves; however if they keep chasing that romance, they might just be able to raise their soul a bit higher to a very special place. But you got to keep trying, even if it's damn hard. Ask and you shall receive, but you need to ask! It's an old lesson. But God bless Cupid for telling it to us again.

Now before I start whining like a little shojo baby (see Piro in Megatokyo), I think I need to wrap things up. If I have time, some time, I might go over the episodes I didn't get to and some of the episodes that were less than full outstanding level or didn't really hit the connection with me.

But until then, keep on chasing that green light, even if it's very far away.

So take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

It's mighty cold in Juno

Juno, a review:

(note: the title of this session comes from a song I stumbled upon in the internet whose chorus was It's mighty cold in Alaska, but the location and author of that song are lost in the sands of my brain)

Juno, the main character of the film Juno, is not named after the city Juno, Alaska. She is as she points out in the film, named after Juno, queen of the Roman gods. It's a fitting name, because this film revolves around her in more ways than one.

Firstly, she is the star. It is Juno's unexpected pregnancy which the movie centers upon and while it takes two to have sex, Bleeker, her male partner stupendously played by Michael Cera, veteran of Superbad and Arrested Development, didn't really have a choice, as Juno makes clear to her friend later. Juno was just bored. Except even the passive partner in a relationship often has the oddest of effects on its course, and while this is Juno's story, at times it is also Bleeker's story.

Bleeker doesn't necessarily get too much screen time, but he has likely the 2nd most scenes, which show him as a devoted runner, a tic-tac addict, and a boy who's confused utterly by the world and most of all by the girl he likes. His reactions to Juno's pregnancy and Juno herself and his reactions to her reactions to him are subtle and wonderfully awkward, but they paint a deeply interesting and complex character, almost as well developed as Juno herself.

But as I said Juno is the star, and this film makes itself or breaks itself on her likability and depth. She is in 90% of the scenes (although not all of them), she gives narration, and she drives the action. But she is likable and her character is deep. She is utterly at ease with herself, and when she is not she vigorously denies that she is ill-at-ease. She is youthful looking (she doesn't wear a bra until her pregnancy) for 16, but maturely independent. Her interests in camp seem child-like but actually hold a very-teenagerish contempt for the world redeemed by a celebration of its ridiculous coolness. And she has the counterculture chique right down to the weirdo-hip language and the aloof disregard of popularity. If that all sounds pretentious, it is but the character is saved from pretentiousness by her sincerity and her flaws. She gets angry, she has burst of immaturity, she makes rash decisions, she refuses to deal with certain emotional issues honestly, and she is far out of her depth in dealing with an unexpected pregnancy.

She has help of course. This film boasts a wonderful ensemble of supporting characters, many highly established, including Jason Bateman who here plays the would-be dad of Juno and Bleeker's child, even though he played the father of the character played by Michael Cera in Arrested Development (that has to be some kind of weird). The main seconds here are Juno's parents and a couple who wants to adopt her child. Also in the mix, is Juno's best friend, Leah, and a bunch of more minor elements. Yet all these secondary characters have a little oddity to them, I noticed as I watched the film. Here's where I started to notice how much the film really centers around Juno.

Let me break for a second and admit to something. I read a review of Juno before I saw the movie and read some partial reviews in addition. Ideally I think you should watch a movie cold first, read about it, then watch it again, but that's very hard to actually arrange. But what you read changes how you view the movie and two items I read altered, perhaps a little, perhaps a lot, how I viewed Juno. Firstly, I read a NY Times opinions piece about Juno, I will discuss it later, but I also read a small item on Roger Ebert's website (I'm not sure if the item is still there, but basically it says that the dialog is too witty and Roger Ebert says the tone sells it convincingly).

The smaller piece I read, the one on Roger Ebert's website, had a greater impact I think. Because when I heard Juno's dad say Damn Skippy instead of a curse, I knew this dialog was far too witty to be realistic. Maybe some people do curse with Damn Skippy, but those people who do are rare, and by all other measures Juno's dad is a good-hearted, pretty hip, but essentially average blue-collar father, so for him to realistically say Damn Skippy... But why should this be realistic? Looking at the other characters I realized there's something surreal about them too. Juno's friend Leah is supposed to be popular and a teacher-phile (it's not terribly strange that she's friends with Juno, cliques these days aren't what they used to be), but she talks in the same way Juno does, or rather in a cool kid dialect of how Juno talks, and since Juno talks in a way cool kids generally only talk with sarcasm, such a dialect should not exist.

Moreover, the store clerk insults her when she goes for pregnancy tests. Why would he do that? Moreover, her parents let her drive her car at all odd hours of the night after she was pregnant (well, the step-mother does scold her briefly, but as scolds go it was fairly light). Moreover... moreover Fall and Winter are pencil sketched in the sky to signal their presence. That isn't something odd for modern movies, but what it represents has been forgotten by many modern filmwatchers and filmmakers. It represents surreality, where reality adjusts to the contours of the mind. And here, Juno's entire world, and her supporting characters fit perfectly the contours of the emotional and mental reality of Juno, who may be a fictional character, but who's complexities suggest a degree of emotional and mental reality. So the excessive wittiness, the oddness of the characters, the strangeness of some of the things Juno gets away with (like sitting in a trophy case at school during lunchtime (and not an isolated trophy case)), all just serve to help deepen her character.

Like I said, the film revolves around her. All this surrealism means that Juno is the center of this universe, she is its queen, and because she's such an engaging character, this film remains engaging, heart-tugging, and enchanting.

It even allows me to excuse some miscues that I would be far more critical of otherwise. One miscue I found glaring, was in the suburban couple who wants to adopt Juno's child. Let me point out here, as some people might have guessed, that this film in many ways parallels Knocked Up, as a woman gets pregnant and then falls in love with the guy who knocked her up, except here the girl is firmly the center of the film and the girl is 16 (the guy is around 16 too). Yet one way the film also seemed to be paralleling Knocked Up is in Michael Bateman's character, who was the suburban father-to-be who was an ex-rock star turned jingle writer, who is now worried about what he'll have to give up to become a father.

Eventually, this character sort of falls in love with Juno (and she, it is implied, kind of falls in love with him, although when confronted with his feelings she rejects him), decides he'd rather be a rockstar than be a father, and leaves his wife. On the surface very different from Knocked Up's dad-to-be character, who was an uber-slacker. But if you look at the ambition Michael Bateman's dream (it's not enough for him to have toured with the Melvins, there's still something more he has to do), his fancying an underage girl, and the relatively weak pressure from his wife's side (it is fairly obvious she disapproves of some ways he behaves, but on the other hand, she doesn't seem to harsh on him for it, although she usually gets her way), it seems like he's just having trouble growing up.

Yet the film doesn't let this fully play out. Instead Michael Bateman's character just leaves his wife after the first fight and it is implied that she then raises Juno's child as a single mother. The emotionally deep ground of the disintegration of a marriage and its complexity with this adoption is only superficially treated. But I understand that a film which encompasses most of a pregnancy must make some narrative choices, and I understand that this film is in the end Juno's story.

And yet, I also thought it was Bleeker's story, which makes another miscue by the film a little more annoying. Bleeker's emotional journey in this film is shown in odd scenes here and there, which is understandable, and it is most spelled out in his interactions with Juno, fine, the film is called Juno. Yet, his emotional journey in this film is all about him telling Juno how he feels and forcing her to confront those feelings and her feelings. It isn't at all dealing with the fact that the baby is his. Maybe Juno was the initiator of sex, maybe she was the driving force of their relationship, maybe she is the star of the film, still... I really would have liked to see Bleeker's reaction to the fact he has a child being born and eventually given away. While other characters were oddly shallow at times, I thought Bleeker was for the most part a fully developed character, and I was disappointed that I didn't see him act like a father. Perhaps Bleeker's story would have taken up too much time, perhaps Bleeker the boyfriend fit in better with the surreal world centered around Juno, but a little something about Bleeker the father would have been appreciated in the movie about Juno the mother.

But then again, in the end Juno isn't the mother. The suburban mom, now alone, takes Juno's child and Juno doesn't go see the baby off and the movie implies that Juno now has no role in the child's life. That isn't actually a bad move for the movie to make, because many teen pregncies end with similar situations. But not all end with the teen smiling in the sunshine and playing a love song with her boyfriend.

Juno is a fairy tale. So said that New York Time op-ed piece I read before (I told you I would get back to that), and that's because it neglects any real emotional aftermath after the baby is given away. I have to say that while I'm not as harsh on the film as the op-ed piece, the character of Juno is far too deep to fit in a fairy tale, I must say the ending is a bit off-putting. Not that Juno should have ended up sad and alone, scarred forever by her teen pregnancy. It makes perfect sense to end the film with Juno and Bleeker side by side happy. But the film should have shown some sign that the pregnancy left an impact on Juno. There should be some measure of emotional weight on her, even if she's capable, as her character should be by all we've seen before, of handling that weight. There should be some significance of the pregnancy to Juno's life. As it is, the pregnancy seems to have just been another one of those obstacles Juno had to overcome in her teenage years to grow up emotionally and become a good girlfriend.

Yet, let me not end on complaints. Because this movie is marvelous. It is immensely funny, it is full of a consistent liveliness, it is beautifully crafted in terms of filmcraft, and it paints a masterpiece of a portrait of the emotional life of a fully individualized, yet highly realistic (I knew kids sort of like this in high school, let me just call them the counterculture geeks, combine the aspects of both the counterculture groups and the geek groups, and you'll have an idea of what I'm talking about), 16-year old girl. It is simply an amazing film, and a wonderfully well-spend 2 hours.

So despite flaws that dig at me even now, the wonder that is Juno demands nothing less than 8 out of 10. I have to give it to her, it wasn't really my idea.

So take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

Friday, May 25, 2007

The temptation of wheat or Azumanga Diaoh review

First of all, the theme song makes no sense, no sense, this link has its lyrics, but it includes the above line the temptation of wheat, and stuff like Cake for you, Tea for you, etc., very, very weird, further proof that Japanese people are crazy (of course my assessment of that is wildly innaccurate since I'm basing this largely on my own tastes for crazy anime). Still song crazy, so it gives you a little clue about the show itself.

Actually in some ways the show isn't as crazy as the intro song and sequence would imply, but in other ways it's just as crazy if not more so. It has a few moments like Kodocha where random things pop up but that's mostly just in the dream episodes. Mostly it's just high school life and not even really eventful high school life, overall nothing much happens to these kids except the school life and the breaks and such. There aren't even the crazy romances of normal high school life (except for with one girl and her obsession with another girl and a teacher's obsession with the first girl (don't worry none of this actually amounts to anything but a lot of laughs). There are rarely long plots even within an episode even since each episode is actual 5 5-minute shorts pieced together (the manga was sort of like a comic strip (I think) and the show first aired as 5 minute shorts each weekday and then the week's episodes were combined on Saturdays (I think, I wasn't there to see all that stuff during the first time around, A. it was a some time ago, and B. it was in Japan)). So with no plot and ordinary high school life how can it be as crazy as temptation of wheat? In the end it is because the characters are just crazy, zany, and absolutely hilarious.

This is one of the shows which makes me feel like an absolute girl, it is a girl's show, there is only one male character and he is just a side character playing the pervert teacher with a heart of gold stereotype (mostly the pervert part) (of course this is never really developed much as it would be if he was the star, but there are plenty of other shows for that (including plenty of animes like that)), but that's part of the charm. It allows the characters to just talk easy as friends and let all their quirks and crazies come out. In some ways this strikes me as more accurate than most romance-centered high school shows, because while the romances of high school tend to come and go, the friendships last and talking to your friends, just shooting the breeze (damn breeze, time to die!!!!) that's what high schoolers really spend most of their time doing. So this show is about that. The quirks and crazies of high school girls and their teachers, and about friendship. It could be very dull, it could be, but instead it's absolutely hilarious because those quirks and crazies, while so ordinary, are played up to maximum effect but without taking away from the love you feel for the characters.

The characters are a mix of archetypes and somewhat novel characters (who are found plenty in real life but are rarely explored). For the archetypes (there's a subtle difference between archetypes and stereotypes, while both are basised on the classic notions of the character types, the archetypes have their depths probed, while the stereotypes are pure superficial) You have Tomo, the crazy mega-enthusiastic goof-ball, you have Osaka, the ditzy, out of it goof-ball, and you have Yomi, the all-together, little-snobby, ultra-dieting, and mature girl, and Karoin, the obsessed-with-her-crush girl (although with a twist the love is another main character, aka, another girl), on the less-heard-of-side you have the grade-skipping-ultra-young, Chiyo, and the looks-very-mature, looks-very-cool and very aloof and looks kind of scary but really is very nice and loves cuteness girl, Sakaki and one which might fall on either side given my lacking knowledge of teen shows, Kagura, who's the ultra-athlete. With the teachers you got the standard boke and tsukkomi, that is the ultra-goof-off and serious person who puts her in her place, and then you have as a side character, the perverted male teacher, who turns out to have a heart of gold but is still very, very, very perverted. All these quirks are perhaps not groundbreaking but they are played out in very normal circumstances to the absolute breaking point but without passing the point of making the characters unsympathetic (although to some I've heard the male teacher passes that point, but I think he's cool (that's what is wife says)). Overall it's a good mix, although I wouldn't mind seeing at least one well-rounded guy, but I suppose that might distract from the girl's show atmosphere, which does add a certain lightness and charm to the show (after all the atmosphere girls carry with them is quite charming (although I'm actually probably too old to be saying that when the show is about high school students (and one student who's the age of elementry school kids)) and it might distract from the ultra-cutsyness of the show. Some will be turned off by this, but me, having the tastes of a ten-year-old girl, find it awesome. At times the show does draw on a bit, and you do kind of wish to have more in-depth adventures that might explore some more facets of these characters, overall I kind of had a sense that I wanted to know them a lot better than I got a chance to, but still you know them enough to love them, and enough to laugh like a madman at them. Overall I'd give this a 9 out of 10.

So that's my Azumanga Diaoh review. I think it went pretty well, although perhaps I could pull out a little more analysis if I wanted too. Oh well, the point is, awesome show, watch it, WATCH IT!!! You go now.

So anyways, take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!