On Con Panels, Part 1: Narratives

I’m not an expert panelist by any means, nor have I ran panels at a large anime con. But I’ve given at least one presentation in front of a big crowd (almost in  TED style come to think of it, but this was some time ago) and it seems there is a need to rehash some of this stuff in the context of an anime convention setting. I’m more comfortable saying these things from the perspective of an attendee than a presenter, but you can probably flip these things around and consider how to run a hit panel at an anime con.

First of all, a lot of what is important to lawyers, corporate sales and people who give narrative-driven presentations generally will apply to a good anime con panel. If you do this stuff for a living, you might be pretty pro already in which you can stop reading this post. All you need is to adjust the pitch to the anime con audience, know what they want from your panel and serve it up the way you think they should eat it. To that end I am not going to rehash things like, well, having a narrative. Or maybe I will?

A lot of people who go to cons are there to have a good time. They aren’t necessarily interested in learning something, but often learning something new is interesting, so they do it. I think that should be how you pitch a panel that has an educational component to it. Personally one of the worst things (that keeps on happening to me) is to attend a panel on a topic that I am very interested in, only to find that I already know everything the panel has to offer. Of course, this is much likely going to be the case since I’m the type of person who reads up on the things that I am very interested in, and most anime con panels aim for a general audience level of know-how on any particular subject matter, which is someone who doesn’t read up on the said things.

This is where having a narrative helps your panel. A narrative is like the undercurrent of your panel, the road in which there is some kind of planned, logical progression in the material that you present. A well-crafted narrative foreshadows what conclusions you make, prompts the audience to ask questions that you want them to ask, and helps them to anticipates what comes next. A good narrative modulates the flow of the panel, it builds up excitement to go with the big splashes you make in your presentation. In other words, even if your panel is an infodump, you can make it interesting for the geek smartasses who already know everything by telling them a story that is disguising the infodump.

Because anime cons (especially large ones) are geek cons, you should expect smartasses at your panels. At a trade show or an academic conference, odds are the presenters are the people working at the bleeding edge of the subject matter, and probably knows everyone else who are also at the same bleeding edge, so nobody is more of a smartass than the presenter. This is very rarely the case at an anime con.

Anyway, more importantly, a good narrative is convincing. What is worse than knowing everything about what the panelists are saying is not convinced by anything the panelists are saying. That is probably the nice way to put it, but it’s more like you know the guys on stage are just bullshitting, or worse, circle-jerking to something that’s wrong. This used to happen much more often because anime in America was relatively insular. Nowadays most people who knew anything uses the internet to check themselves, so crack theories tend to not attract traction and get panel time. These kind of issues are more distracting than even just making plain factual mistakes (although it is not as bad of one, as we will see) because it totally kills

Most importantly, a good narrative is interesting for everybody. It’s like enjoying a good storyteller’s tale about nothing interesting. So I am making a case for it. Unless you are Mandoric. Or, of course, unless you aim for something else other than a passively engaged audience.

…and there are many ways to engage your audience besides by telling them a story.

I think ultimately, con panels need to engage the audience. Having a narrative is just one of several, and finding one that suits your panel should be something you need to be thinking about fairly early on.

The roundtable panelist sort of thing generally fails at this, unless you have magnetic personalities or hot topics to keep the audience occupied. Generally they don’t work for the topics I’m interested in.

When I think about the topics that interests me, the narrative concept helps me do a few things:

Often times a topic can be very broad, even in this sub-cultural niche. By focusing a narrative you, well, focusyour panel, and it helps you stuff only what’s important in the short amount of time allowed.

A lot of the time I fall into a trap in that I think of a panel as a way to exchange information. This is true to an extent but that should only be the “headtrick.” It’s like edutainment, you want to teach, but your audience shouldn’t be thinking that they are learning consciously. You might want to discuss something with your panelists and/or with the audience, but it should only be because everyone says something that builds or plays off each other. Now of course we are adults, we don’t have to sugarcoat this stuff, but at the same time don’t make it dry either–brandy-coat it ;)

The panel builds itself via the narrative framework.  I go on and on about the N word, but how do you build a narrative anyways? That is a tough question, and it’s art for those who do it for a living. To use debating as an example, think of it as building an argument. For example, if I want to talk about moe at an anime con, it’s a wide topic with few solid footing throughout. More importantly, it’s something people debate to no end. In some ways if I think about a story I want to tell that gets my point across, I can focus my presentation towards an end, a goal, a conclusion–the points I want to tell. Because stories have beginnings and endings, usually, you have a vague roadmap to what you want to cover to hit your points. You can even make an open ending and just nudge your audience via your presentation. On the other hand, don’t just talk around the argument by presenting all the facts and what not, because nobody cares about the fact you are presenting, because they don’t know why you are doing it without you showing what is contentious.

This is where you can make some outrageous statement, as I mentioned earlier. As long as your narrative supports the weight of your ludicrous fanboying, your audience might still stick around even if you are crazy or creepy as all hell (For a hypothetical example: Shinbo is a lolicon because I’ve built a case for it in the past 45 minutes). Basically, buid a narrative to explain how you get to that point; make them understand, or better yet, sympathize with you. If your facts are right and your logical deductions are sound (bonus points for being creative) I think you might even entertain the most geekiest of geeks.

To conclude for now–go watch some TED clips. Learn something worthwhile. And see how the different presenters do their show. It’s not the only way to do panels, but it is probably a popular way to go about it if you aim to educate and to amuse.

[Part 2 may not be coming. We will see.]

PS. What I described right there is every single “The Manga Guide to” book. Minus the manga part. That is the headtrick.

 

Animazement 2008 Voice Actress Panel

This panel was one of the first thing at the start of the convention Friday, 1pm. Looks like they’re going to do some live dubbing with audience participating!

Keiko Han wears Luna Mask

A little tidbit about Animazement. Much like how the now-president of Gainax pulls for FanimeKamiya and Han work hard to get fellow voice actors to come to the con. Well, the results are pretty obvious. Or rather, voice actors know voice actors, after all?

The panel started with some technical difficulty. It seems they have a prepared DVD with menus and all, ready to show clips from various shows (mostly Sailor Moon) for all the guests at the con. But somehow they couldn’t get the sound to work. Funny enough few moments later they couldn’t mute the darn thing. We spent a good 10 minutes at the panel looking at the panelists being confused as to how to proceed. Anyways, it was all good. This particular panel was also extra 30-40 minutes longer with an attached autograph session at the end. So we spent roughly 15 minutes goofing around, 15 minutes dubbing, and 30 minutes Q&A.

For this panel I’m going to just flesh out the Q&A part in detail, but just paraphrase the rest. Below is a chronological telling of what vaguely happened.

The panel begins with an exciting introduction. Mitsuishi announces that she will join Fukuda and Han at the Gundam panel as well, as an addendum to the programming material. And then we wait. For sound.

Of course, Han and Mitsuishi had some fun doing dub-their-own. First Mitsuishi asked if any male audience members would dub Sailor Moon. Then the two went off with the video clips (without sound) and produced some lolz. Mitsuishi’s talking cat?

Then Mitsuishi tried to mouth off a Misato line. Ooops.

To make use of time, Han and Mitsuishi started to talk about their history. It seems that Mitsuishi is normally busy (as expected) but Han has nagged her for a few years. So it happened finally.

The two VAs looked for Sailor Moon cosplays in the audience to no avail. Maybe tomorrow? Keiko Han schemes that if Mitsuishi and the cosplayers took a picture, she can get Naoko Takeuchi to come.

Mitsuishi talked about her busy schedule and attempt to learn English with her daughter. Because of the declining birth rate in Japan, her daughter’s English school went out of business, so her English was pretty limited. Also, her daughter’s birthday was Thursday.

Anyways, after some more audio mangling we got to do the audience-participated dubs.

I think we went through 8 pairs. Some of them are pretty ok, others not so hot. But more importantly, some of them took liberty to show off to the guests with gifts and lols. There was a nice Maetel cosplay that really got their attention.

“Kawaiiku, kakkoyoku.” Kisses on the hands are cute.

And onward to Q&A.

Q1: <I’m from Mexico and we wubs SM. Ever had a difficult role?>

KM: I can do roles, but the hard part is figuring out how it’s suppose to be played. That would be Misato, as she was suppose to be older.

KH: As for me, it was <evil cackle> Queen Beryl because it had an evil cackle. I also had to do Luna back to back so I had to ask for a recording break so I can get into character. But now that I’ve done Queen Beryl, I can use this condescending laugh in other roles. <Cackle>

Crowd: LOL.

Q2: What do you think about the Sailor Moon TV series?

KM: I first saw the musical. I liked it a lot. I even talked to the girl who played Sailor Moon in the musical and she asked how she should do her lines. I told her she did well but she needs to come up with her way of delivery. As for the TV series, I was only an audience member but Keiko Han was part of the series as a voice.

At this point Q2 person had a little side discussion with the guests that fell through the translation crack.

KH: I think Sailor Moon TV was the first all-girls sentai TV show, so it was tough. Also they were all kids too. They did do a good job. At the same time my recording partner was an actual 16yo, as opposed to Mitsuishi. Naturally the anime partner was easier to work with for me.

Audience: Aww.

Q3: Did you enjoy Misato more or Usagi? Which one do you relate to more?

KM: When I am doing Misato, I like her more. When I do Usagi, I like her more. They are alike fundamentally so I never had a hard time playing either. They are very similar–they have the same kind of bangs.

Audience: </zing>

Q3: I think one had a drinking problem.

KM: …..? Ahh, sou deshita ne…

Audience: ROFL.

KM: KYAAAAAAA! That was fun to play. And I don’t drink.

Q4: Do you do something to pretend to be that character?

KM: The muse descends on you and you become the role, so to speak. Normally I’m a quiet person who bottles up things so I would “transform” as you say, as I act out my character.

KH: I don’t turn into a cat. Even last night, as we were talking late at night, we only see each other a couple times a year. I noticed that sometimes I get a feeling that when something is bugging Kotono, and I would call her and she would indeed be troubled. I think this is because during the four or five years we were closely working with each other, I picked up Luna’s power to sense when Usagi would be in trouble. I would call her up and she would ask how did I know?

Q5: In working in Excel Saga, how was it acting in such an energetic and spontaneous manner?

KM: Since Excel is a motormouth, I felt my lung capacity expanded during that show. It felt I had 4 lungs going. We didn’t do too many takes for the show, so usually the last take was the actual take. Most of the practice I had to do I did at home to make sure I don’t bite my tongue.

Q5: We read that the reason Gainax animated Ebichu is because of what you were reading during recording of Evangelion. Did something like this happen with a different show? That you influenced the production?

KM: There aren’t any shows that got influenced that way. How was the English version of Ebichu? With the censorship.

Q5: It was not released over here, we only heard of it from the internet.

Nice parry.

KM: Knowing there is an opportunity to say a lot of words you don’t get to say, I asked Anno for the role, and I got it.

Q6: Did you had to change your voice for the Excel previews?

KM: Some scenes they did that for an effect, but not for the normal recording.

Q6: That’s impressive.

KM: <Hahaha thx.>

Q7: Do you have a specific moment in Sailor Moment that is your favorite?

KM: When I was doing the role, I really get into the role and it matches well with the recording. When Sailor Moon saves Hotaru-chan, that was my favorite moment.

KH: My favorite moment is when the last episode was done, because I know I wouldn’t have to do Queen Beryl again.

Crowd: LOL.

Q8: <You doing the new Eva movie?> And how do you feel about doing a part you haven’t done in a long time, again?

KM: Everyone’s back for the movie, so yes I’m Misato again. In addition to a few new characters.

KM: It’s been 13 years. It took me a while to get back into character. The director wanted a more tense performance, although I was trying to do it as I imagined it. I originally wanted to do a retake on the same role but the director wanted the old style so I conceded and rewatched the original DVDs to get it back.

Q9: How many takes does it normally take you? Do you ever get to ad lib or change lines?

KH: In the studio, the first run-through we do we sit in our seat and watch the video. The second run-through is the mic test and that’s a rehearsal. Then we do the final take. A normal 30-minute episode will take 3 to 3.5 hours to record, at least back in Sailor Moon days. As for ad lib, it depends on the director.

KM: Normally you are not suppose to ad lib, but sometimes if you really know the character, you can do it as if you are the character.

Q10: Did you prepare yourself for Evangelion’s emotional ending? How did it affect you?

KM: I like to go to the recording with a neutral state of mind. At most just vocal warmup. I get my inspiration from the video footage. As for performing Evangelion, I got an instant source of topic. I can meet a stranger and talk about something.

Didn’t get the question?

Q11: <Ebichu is controversial.> Before going into the show, did you think it’s going to be controversial? Or just for the laughs?

KM: I never thought it would get a TV broadcast. But they did have TV codes, they censored it. For the DVD release it was uncensored. I’m very fond of the show myself, and I have some stuffed Ebichu at home. I hope you like it.

Q12: Whenever you are preparing a role, say it’s a sad moment, do you get overemotional or cry?

KM: When the character is laughing, I laugh; when the character is sad, I am sad. But you can’t let go 100% because your voice may go and if you cry you wouldn’t be able to perform. Also if there is a transition in the next scene, then you still need control to keep performing. I’m in control of the emotion ultimately.

KM: I’d like to ask this to Han-san…

KH: When I was doing Space Battleship Yamato: Be Forever Yamato, I cried at the end and I was apologizing to the director thinking I blew it. But the director went “No, it’s good!” and ended up changing the animation to match my performance. I had a delicious part of being Sasha in Yamato for my very first role.

And that’s that! What commences next is a mad dash to get into a line for autographing.

Autographing itself was not exactly eventful–there were flowers and candies given. Well, I guess there was this very cute moment when Mitsuishi was playing with a balloon animal with her daughter. Alex, Great SG and I ran into that Mexican guy (Q1) and chatted, also some other fans of Mitsuishi. Han and Mitsuishi were troopers and kept signing until the very end before they had to clear the room and take a 10 minute break for the next panel.

Which, hopefully, will be posted soon.

 

Soundtrack of Our Lives

I am hardly the first person to ever blog about this, but what would the soundtrack of your life be like?

Maybe I should be a little more specific; open-ended inquiries like that are good ice breaker questions for airy-headed groups of people. But as I was walking down the street one morning the song I was listening to just struck me as a good match to the feeling and the visuals I was seeing.

In my own limited experience, music works with the visuals to achieve an intended result, at least in directing a film. As people listen to more music more often and more frequently, we can achieve the same — by seeing and listening to certain things, and to achieve purposeful results.

Perhaps listening to a pumping soundtrack while driving enhances your enjoyment even if you are just doing your weekday commute. Or listening to a strong melody that can help me me march down the street quickly. Or a soothing song to relax during some private break time.

It also has to do with your own enjoyment of the music as well. But I found that people who listens to music all the time tend to also listens to a wider range of music; maybe because that’s just how it works.Much like the science fictional future of our fathers’ generation, there are a lot of little, yet important aspects of today that people did not foresee. Just how many people are carrying around a personal media player today? The soundtrack question lights up differently when one can potentially be listening from a collection of sounds from a wide variety of sources? It’s virtually limitless if you take into account MIDs.

It’s almost Shirow-ish to think that our perception of reality is augmented by little things like this, but it’s the reality we face today.

Recalling the original Macross series, we see the effect of culture as represented by music on a race of people. Macross Frontier is just a timely reminder of how things have (and have not) changed since. Some of us are still high on protoculture, but a new generation of kids growing up will be taking that and inventing new things to do, new ways to explore the world.

Confession: I watch anime, at times, purely for the voice actress.

It’s really sad. I almost wish I want my time back after some of these experiences.

I want to make a distinction, though. A lot of people like a certain voice–Norio Wakamoto is one popular example–because they like that voice and the way the actor does his or her thing. And that is great. There are some actors like that for me, too, and I would go out of my way to check out a show done by that person. What’s interesting is that a lot of people who don’t normally pay attention to voice acting still gets hooked by some of the more amusing performances, and that is remarkable. If I was Mr. Wakamoto I’d be surprised that all these non-Japanese speaking people like my works.

But what I’m confessing is worse. For example, as much as I’m all “notokawaiiyonoto” about it, I think Mamiko Noto’s boy voice really … isn’t all that. Perhaps the voice itself is exactly what the director wants out of that character, but it hurts to watch. Still, I’m going to watch Kanokon. And I respect the Ayako Factor. Or recall how Kawasumi did her Mahoromatic role with such vivid memory and superimpose that onto Kanokon.

Times like this I wish I was a green, mean pet alligator.

But being human, we are called to a higher level of existence. We should recognize how funny episode 3 of Kanokon was, not just because it lampoons, but because of how it lampoons and what it lampooned. Is this what people get out of radio shows? Or phone sex? WTB more Saito Chiwa lines. Or Mai Nakahara lines, if that’s more appropriate.

But all that is second to what some junkies get out of a fairly pedestrian comedy affair–by all means, don’t watch shows like this.

Why can’t these enjoyable voice actresses just work on shows that are worth watching? Nana Mizuki finally stars in a show that I can stand to watch, so I guess I should be glad for what I can get.

Maybe I should be content about Kanokon’s massive dose of fanservice, and watch Kanokon in silence. Sadly it just doesn’t work.

 

CLANNAD the Movie or Incremental Upgrades Leaves the Heart Wondering

I enjoyed the CLANNAD movie. But I realize it became a very narrowly tailored exercise in, well, dramatic reenactment of something that’s probably more powerful.

The problem with CLANNAD, and to some extent the Key anime adaptations we’ve seen so far, is that there is no way to traverse through all the key “checkpoints” without making a mess of the story. The story either loses some of the impact because of that, or the story just gets too convoluted for a straight-faced narrative.

In a more general sense, multi-pathing visual novels are like arcade racing games. Specifically, it’s those games that takes a couple tokens to play where you have to not only beat your AI opponents, but make various checkpoints to get more time. When you run out of time, even if you are ahead of the pack, you basically lose.

In this modular way to look at drama, where trying to hit every gut wrenching twist and turn becomes the purpose of an unstoppable, artfully sly narrative, we should see quite a few of those checkpoints in the duration of the story. But when as applied to visual novels, the difficulty arises when your checkpoints are not dotted across one race track, but in a city of one-way roads that necessarily limits you to only a subset of all possible checkpoints available in the game out of the total.

The approach in a theatrical adaptation is necessarily much more single minded. We want to go in and get it done in an hour-and-half. TV series can pursuit forks in the road, but movies lack the luxury of time to backtrack (so much).

And in exchange, the CLANNAD movie took us deeper and all the way through with Nagisa’s story. But at what cost? Was it worth it?

I think how you answer those questions will be the litmus test to determine what you enjoy the most out of an exercise in drama.

Perhaps more relevantly, with each iteration, each Key adaptation, both Toei and Kyoto Animation do a better job. At least that was my impression.