Say, did you know that water is really difficult to animate? The process of making it react and lay convincingly against real world objects is a nightmare, so having lots and lots of rain is one way to show that you’ve got a really snazzy budget (yes, I am saying that’s the entire reason for the apparent monsoon running through Green vs Red). You know what’s not the greatest place to show that off? A television show that’s working on a limited budget and has bottom of the barrel ratings. Our intrepid team isn’t to be stopped, though, and while the actual raindrops look more or less like the scratching-the-film trick used in such stunning cinematic masterpieces as Xanadu, the water’s impact on the streets, nice details like rain running in rivulets off of a post, and residue dripping off of Lupin do look pretty good.
Less convincing is the setup: Lupin, the master thief and practically precognitive master of his surroundings, was out running in the rain and got a note reading ‘HELP ME’ taped to his back. This note is still legible despite the rain (unless it perhaps said KICK ME to start with), and the tape didn’t get soggy and unstick itself. If you want to play with rain physics, show, I’m going to start thinking about everything else too. By the way, Jigen can tell from a distance and without directly looking at it that it’s a woman’s handwriting. You might call it lazy animation, but I prefer to think of it as proof that the gunman’s developing powers of meta-awareness. And hey, let’s be fair. Awesome Lupin stories have had their share of stupid setups (I see you there, Tokyo Crisis. With your totally 90s use of psychic powers in large eyed adolescent girls).
A knock at the door reveals “Kids’ Meal,” the least indicatively named gangster of all time. He’s Fujiko’s lackey, as we’ll discover, so I choose to believe she forcibly renamed him as such for not showing her the proper amount of respect. Fujiko doesn’t fuck around, y’all. Anyway, Kids’ Meal is here to pick Lupin up and take him to the damsel in distress. Jigen isn’t up for this nonsense himself, but he says he’s totally cool with their open relationship Lupin gallivanting after a pretty girl yet again.
Is it not as much fun if he’s not mad at you?
Off they go. If you’re surprised to find out that Fujiko sent the letter, then we need to have a serious talk about the horizon of expectations. Lupin’s so clairvoyantly prepared for this he intuitively senses that it’s a Browning Fujiko is aiming at his back. At this point, their relationship is less a pattern and more a Sisyphean hellscape of betrayal.
Fujiko needs help with the lost member of the conehead family, a mobster who’s a practically catatonic amnesiac nonetheless holding some rather relevant secrets. Lupin must, like the majestic Tyrannosaurus Rex, be unable to sense unmoving objects, because he totally misses the corpulent body until Fujiko points it out.
What comes next is a sight to behold, in that it gets unbelievably convoluted at breakneck speeds while still managing to be rollickingly dull. Follow me down here: Marlon Brando’s half-fish cousin here contracted a doctor to do some kind of mysterious surgery on him. Once it was a success, he killed the doctor and temporarily erased his memory, meaning for it to come back in six months. He made his mook, Dragon Mandala (because Madlib McGillicutty was out on patrol) promise to kill anyone who tried to bring the boss’ memory back sooner. But whoops, the guy’s memory didn’t come back and then he died. Turns out experimental brain surgery didn’t have such a hot track record in the 70s. There’s some girl shenanigans too, where Fujiko Syndrome is still in play because our tough double agent runs weeping from the room when Lupin presses her for information (right to a bedroom, so we can have uncomfortable not-cut-short-enough ‘seduction’).
Fujiko, precognitively performing the modern audience’s ‘Do Not Want’ face
For second, what the hell with this surgery? It apparently works right up until the end, when instead of giving him back his memory he went into a coma. For the most part, outside of fantastical gadgets now and again, Green Jacket deals with at least one toe in reality. Is there such a thing as temporary lapse amnesia? Sure, there’s trauma induced repression, but that’s not something you can time out to a reliable date. My guess is that The Blob’s enterprising twin kidnapped a mechanic , and said mechanic said whatever he needed to keep his head firmly attached to his shoulders. ‘Temporary amnesia machine? Sure, no big, when you need it back by? Lemme just get my tool belt. Regular rates.’ And then he DIES. What was the risk assessment? The treasure he was trying to hide isn’t even that big! There’s only one of it! We have no idea why he gives a particular shit about it, at least enough to take a crowbar to the skull. Maybe that’s a lot of effort for characterization of a guy whose only lines are post mortem, but COME ON. If you’re going to use wacky pseudo science, you better leave something else to cling to. Otherwise your viewer goes spinning off into the stratosphere, trying vainly to rationalize something besides ‘this episode is stupid, oh God is it stupid, is Jigen back yet, can we go back to the cabin in the woods at least, MIYAZAKI HELP ME’
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Huh. Blacked out for a minute there. But I’m back! Let’s get on with the recap, shall we?
It begins
I TAKE IT BACK. GET OUT WHILE YOU STILL CAN
Oh, and before the scene change but after the creeptastic lover-boy scene, Jigen makes his usual snarktastic commentary.
That’s just what he tells you to make the codependency work
Anyway, Lupin doesn’t have anything to say about his peanut gallery wakeup call beyond telling Jigen to get working on the next part of the plan. Keep that in mind.
IT’S GONNA BLOW! THE MUSIC TRIED TO WARN US!
Jigen’s late, and when he does show up he’s his usual sassy self. I say show up, but apparently he’s been lounging in the rafters the whole time. Which Lupin, in keeping with the sudden impairment to his supernatural awareness levels, didn’t seem to notice. Also, Jigen’s totally earned the right to say that Lupin can’t do a thing without him. But you know what? Lupin’s not kosher with this. He makes all kinds of sidemouth comments about Jigen getting cocky, despite having nothing to say about it in the last scene. Is this like a Liz Lemon and Jack thing? Are you afraid he’s making you look bad in front of your summer camp friends?
Wait.
STOP.
HOLD THE PHONE.
I’m taken back In Time to when I was watching Cillian Murphy play a slum kid turned privileged time cop, possibly at the expense of a former close friend, thinking that his story would’ve been approximately ten times more interesting than sexy-getbacker Justin Timberlake and living anime character Amanda Seyfried acting a poor man’s Bonnie and Clyde. There’s nothing more frustrating in narrative than sighting an interesting story through a haze of mediocrity. Good shows captivate you, bad ones are enthralling to mock, but mixed ones…you’re forever reaching for the glimmer of a good idea, willing it to come closer until all you have is a migraine of thwarted expectations. And possibly methane poisoning.
I missed you, Terrifying Lupin Face. Exit, stage left
It’s hard to drum up enthusiasm for the conclusion we do get, given that it’s more or less a repeat of the racetrack gambit from episode one: there’s a fork in the road that meets back up at what is universally referred to by the characters as a “swastika shaped” crossroads. And you thought I pulled the Nazis out of nowhere. This is the franchise that had TWO Nazi episodes. Like arsenic Pringles, it’s hard to have just one. Because you usually choke and die before finishing it. What was I talking about?
Of course
The plan is to force the ambulance onto the side road while a dummy car drives ahead of the police escort. Lupin grabs the treasure, and then the original ambulance is led back onto the correct road to the station with no feds the wiser. It goes off pretty much without a hitch, barring one thing.
Follow me down once more on this one, folks, and put down any food before you do. The Surreptitious Shrew over here had this diamond surgically implanted into his body. That much is fact. We might then conjecture that he did so for safe keeping, which would then follow with the fact that it would be someplace that was not immediately visible. If his death is marked as something ‘suspicious,’ it is probably sudden and relating to a man with few other health problems. The most likely cause of this sudden death would be some kind of aneurism (possibly in the brain), or a blockage of blood flow resulting in cardiac arrest. Lupin brought no tools or weapons with him, as he wanted the body to appear the same when it arrived into police custody. Now knowing that it was surgically implanted and probably in a ways, how did he get the diamond out? I’ll leave you to your own images of hairy hands rooting around in cold, squishy mobster organs. Sleep well, kids!
NEXT TIME: Return of the Samurai Friend! Fujiko’s never been so cutthroat, but if everyone drives off into the sunset then it’s okay to try to mow each other down along the way, right? It’s the almost-but-not-quite last episode of director numero uno, Masaaki Osumi. Hope to see you there!
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