Paris is known as the city of love. The great Molière wrote magnificent plays about humans feigning illnesses (The Imaginary Invalid), faking religious piety (Tartuffe), and even faking love for humanity (The Misanthrope) – stories often set in Paris with the upper classes. Such a city features historical monuments like L’Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre museum, and the Notre Dame cathedral. Yet within that same city is the infamous Centre Pompidou, a jarringly modern building filled with colored pipes visible from far. Gankutsuou: The Count of Monte Cristo embraces this maze of contradictions, creating a striking experience.
Pursuit of revenge is a clear thread through the story. On the alien world of Luna, where the show begins, the Count (played by the beautifully menacing Jouji Nakata) lavishly hosts our main characters Albert and Franz; he uses his influence then to save the life of a self-admitted murderer from public execution but leaving the other two prisoners to their fate. (Probably my least favorite scene in the show.)
This is a coming of age story and this – as a character drama – is where the show shines brightest for me. In spite of his idealism, Albert (played to great angst by Fukuyama Jun) falls for the charms of the count. Franz – played earnestly by Daisuke Hirakawa – serves as the best friend and arguably a great ship for Albert. (We only get *one* episode in before Albert asks if Franz is his girlfriend. Sarcastically of course but still.) With Eugenie, the prodigious female pianist and childhood friend to Franz and Albert, these three form a remarkable trio. Another great character is Haydee the harp player – from fictional Middle East in Space (Janina) – who adds depth to this complex tale. Of course, at times the drama is downright soapy, but throughout we see the humanity of all. Even the Count, a firm believer that he is evil to his core.
Gankutsuou’s most unexpected character is arguably Peppo (voiced by the great
Mai Nakahara). Her first appearance is just moments into the show with her
tossing Albert a bouquet. (To be honest, I noticed this when revisiting Ep 1 to
eye any possible foreshadow.) In short, Peppo speaks crudely, teasing sharply,
but also has a heart of gold where she wants nothing but the best for Albert.
She even serves as the maid in his house. If anything, Peppo could have
appeared more often, given her ability to insert into any situation. Most
striking is the implication that Peppo is a trans girl who breaks free of constraints
of society to become a model herself. I truly wish that Peppo had appeared more
often, especially for her to talk to Albert again. At the least, that
possibility was never closed off.
I, as did others, noticed the overwhelming aesthetic present in the show. Garish.
Gankutsuou can be described this way. Headache inducing. Director Mahiro Maeda
probably leaned too much into orchestrated catastrophe amalgamating the
shiniest, most metallic looking computer-generated images (including rocket
ships) and straightforwardly drawn images. Such a fascinating disparity extends
to the art direction as well. There are ornately decorated locales, like in the
Auteil mansion, existing in contrast to a standard sky view, with blue and a
few tufts of white. Even as Last Exile
pioneered this blend, Gankutsuou strikes a level higher, a fact best pronounced
by characters dressing with intricate carpet patterning (as described by a
friend of mine) on every garb and strand of hair. Often fluid animation is not
the goal as much as filling each frame to the brim. In all its odd, jagged
glory, Gankutsuou is a hair removed from being too much and certainly
represents the peak of Golden era Gonzo aesthetic. Somehow, the headaches were
worth the travails still.
Music shines brightest when it strikes at human emotion. Here the most striking
pieces are somber yet light, capturing the melancholy of revenge echoing in
this series. A simple repeating guitar line dominates one such piece, with
guitar as driftwood and rocking strings as the sea. Curiously, the name
Jean-Jacques Burnel appears in the credits for music. Burnel is best known as
the bassist for the Stranglers, an English band best known for songs like “No
More Heroes”, and is even credited under the band’s name in the OP. In opening,
Gankutsuou features Burnel’s sweeping vocals and singing piano clad with lines
like “Our dreams were not soured by life.” Eloquent strings decorated with
pristine monochrome drawings by show character designer Hidenori Matsubara.
Compared to this artful drama, the ending theme is grungy, filled with promises
of revenge uttered by Burnel with maliciousness; directed by 3DCG pioneer (and
then-frequent Gonzo contributor) Yasufumi Soejima, the ED is visually
aggressive, ending with a scene of the Count laughing maniacally.
Count of Monte Cristo is a book I have at home, but never read. After traveling through space to be here, in this moment, I realize that comparing the book to the anime may just be a great idea. Even with the plethora of bells and whistles, Gankutsuou is an earnest tale of Albert, impressionable and idealistic, halting a plot of mere vindication carried by the Count. This tale carries with it the markings of an honest character drama, which is what will stay with me the longest. Grateful to have finally seen the show…now onto the book sometime!
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