An Alien Expression (Space Dandy ep. 9)

I’ve always found it funny how human beings show far less interest in or respect towards plants than we do animals. Even though plants are living beings capable of interaction within their species and expressing states of being, they are so incomprehensible to us that we just can’t relate to them. I remember one time when a vegetarian told me that their diet was restricted to “anything without a face,” and I found myself wondering what significance a face had in determining which life forms were worth consuming.

One of the jokes in the background of Space Dandy is how in this insanely complex universe of countless possibilities, most of the aliens Space Dandy talks to speak with typical mannerisms, and almost all of them are equally interested in the breasts of human females. Space Dandy is a space fantasy after all, rather than a hard sci-fi story, but in episode nine it actually dives into presenting one of the most alien scenarios that I’ve seen in a sci-fi series.

It does this through putting Dandy and Meow on a planet inhabited wholly by plants. If not for the fact that two of the plants are capable of speaking Dandy’s language and giving him a basic outline of what’s going on, this episode would be totally incomprehensible. It’s difficult to tell what the plants are doing or expressing or where Dandy is or what’s happening most of the time, because the world is so alien and unrelatable that we just can’t understand it. Even with our basic grasp of what Dandy and the plants are trying to accomplish, i.e. reclaiming this meteorite, all the steps taken to get this done seem like nothing to the viewer. It’s very pretty to look at and all, but you couldn’t possibly ask me to summarize what actually happens in this episode. It’s a totally alien expression.

Space Dandy Is Your Totally Lame, Totally Awesome Self (ep. 8)

Shinichiro Watanabe’s three episodic adventure shows–Cowboy Bebop, Samurai Champloo, and Space Dandy–are mostly known for their memorable and lovable casts of lead characters. I think what makes Watanabe’s leads work so well is that all of them manage to be at once immensely cool, as well as immensely lame. They’re always guys who do whatever they want, kick tons of ass, and look cool doing it, but they’re also always down on their luck, destitute, and lonely. Watanabe seems to have at once a big appreciation for the masculine ideas of being a cool guy, but also recognizes how stupid and corny it is to want to be that kind of guy. His characters are like the anti-James Bond. As Film Crit Hulk writes in his epic analysis series on the franchise, James Bond represents the macho ideal of just getting everything you want all the time; being every kind of cool without any kind of fault. Watanabe’s characters, meanwhile, get all of the swagger, and none of the benefit. His characters are not glamorous in any way. They get to be cool at the cost of being happy.

With Space Dandy being Watanabe’s first straight-up comedy series, it doesn’t quite allow Dandy himself to hit the badass highs, nor the bottomed-out lows that the likes of Spike Spiegel or Mugen often did. Space Dandy certainly looks cool, and he gets to be cool at times like when he’s surfing a planet explosion–but nothing in his life is massively dramatic. He manages to get killed or go hungry a lot, but none of it seems to faze him all that much. That’s the funny thing about Space Dandy–even though he’s this ridiculous character in this ridiculous world, he also is stunningly normal.

Just look at the things he cares about, or gets invested in. He’s at his most serious when he’s trying to help a cute little girl reunite with her family, and when he experiences the death of an adorable dog. His biggest concern is getting to spend time in the Boobies restaurant. That’s literally the highlight of his life! He goes out to capture aliens and make money just so he can go back to Boobies. He doesn’t have any big goals or aspirations, nor does he have any real drama in his life. He’s just a normal guy.

Space Dandy isn’t really heroic, nor is he really bad. He only wins about half the time, and usually just because his opponents are even more lame than he is. By episode eight, the flaming-skull-headed leader of the enemy forces turns out to be just some cheapskate boss; and the Gorilla man chasing Dandy across the universe is constantly undercut by his nerdy sidekick. They lose to Dandy without Dandy even realizing they exist.

Everything in Space Dandy’s world is at once a colorful, amazing explosion of adventure, and yet also lame, broken, silly, and strange. Even the storylines aren’t written to be dramatically gratifying, but instead usually turn out to be something totally different from what the viewer first expects. Yet somehow, this is exactly what makes Space Dandy so fun to watch. It’s precisely the fact that it’s taken all the coolest things in the universe and made them totally normal, lame, and ridiculous, that it manages to hit the viewer in a more relatable and “real” way.

Quick Notes on a Space Dandy Race (ep. 7)

Nothing in Space Dandy is written with clear enough intentions to be called a “deconstruction,” or anything like that, but the space race in episode seven is obviously playing with tropes. In countless death race stories, there are a bunch of exuberant characters cheating in their own unique ways, or just being imposing. Usually they try to capture the thrill and speed and passion of racing. Redline and Speed Racer are two magnificent examples.

Comparatively, Space Dandy only focuses on the silly aspects, putting it more in line with the likes of Wacky Racers. And in bit of a twist, Dandy himself actually cheats MORE than any of the others, even ostensibly murdering a lot of other racers in his desperation to win. His rival, the Prince, is hardly painted any better, resorting to his own cheats to try and beat Dandy. In the end, no one even wins. Space Dandy is warped into an endless wormhole of the highest-speed travel in existence and becomes the Buddha or something. I’m not sure if this is a bigger subversion of the racing genre, or just of the idea of narrative structure in itself.

“The Whole Thing Is Indefinite, Isn’t It?” (Space Dandy ep. 6)

Cartoons tend to be pretty well-defined. There’s a series bible full of drawings of how the characters should look from every angle, what the core of their personality is like, what the core of the show is like, and all the important things that have to remain consistent throughout the series.

In this regard, Space Dandy is no different. The characters have one look most of the time, and only really look different when things get weird. The same goes for the general art style and color palette. Even though Dandy gets weird pretty often, there’s a definite sense of what the “core” of Space Dandy is. It’s an amalgamation of comedy and sci-fi tropes and styles, and an experimental fun time for its team of creators.

But at the same time, Space Dandy breaks a lot of rules. It doesn’t try to always have a point, or have a good narrative structure, or make sense–even internally. I always think back to that favorite phrase of college professors–you have to know the rules to break them. At its foundation, Space Dandy is a proper cartoon, yet it also is full with deliberately improper things.

In a way, episode six has two parts. The beginning and the end are about Dandy’s surf boards, while the mid-section is an utterly pointless plot about Dandy and Meow failing to convince two warring aliens to find peace. Leading into the mission, Space Dandy remarks that “the whole thing is indefinite, isn’t it?” I don’t think Space Dandy is indefinite to the core, but it definitely plays with the idea of being undefined. Was this episode funny? Was it action, or comedy, or drama? Really, the whole thing was one big excuse for an awesome scene of Dandy surfing the explosion of a moon to the perfect music. And that, surprisingly, feels pretty okay.

Space Dandy Does What It Wants

“Whatever I want to do, is what I do. Whatever I don’t want to do, I don’t do.” Space Dandy says this to Adelie in his show’s fifth episode, but the show itself is saying this to the viewer.

Episode five of Space Dandy is a big departure from how the show has been up to that point. There’s no giant alien battle, no giant shaking tits (though Dandy talks about them plenty), and no Gogol empire goons on Dandy’s trail. The plot centers around a super-adorable little girl and Dandy’s simple quest to selflessly reunite her with her grandfather. It couldn’t be more simple or less absurd. Several minutes are dedicated to song montages of Dandy and Adelie just hanging out.

It’d be easy to see fans of Space Dandy get mad about this episode. Those who see Dandy as a throwback to a hyper-masculine, uber-wacky theme that may or may not have ever existed in history might be upset to see an adorable little girl voiced by the hugely popular Hanazawa Kana taking so much screentime. (As a fan of adorable girls and HanaKana, I am not one of those complainers.) I can picture fans crying fowl, calling it a cash-in attempt to appeal to lolicon otaku.

Space Dandy reassures us. He wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want to do. He only does exactly what he wants to do. I’d like to take him at his word.

A World of Zombies (Space Dandy ep 4)

In its first half, the fourth episode of Space Dandy utilizes an interesting sci-fi conceit. In a universe filled with countless alien species, it’s impossible to tell the difference between a completely new species, and a variant of a discovered one. Machines shouldn’t be able to turn into zombies, but in a universe where anything can happen and many things are inexplainable, it’s hardly surprising when QT becomes one.

However, the episode’s real genius becomes evident only in the second-half twist when, after the Dandy crew are infected, it borrows pages from not only George Romero’s playbook (with a nod to him at the end), but even from the ending of Shaun of the Dead. Dandy’s declaration that “being dead is no different from being alive” says it all really. After a cycle of craving raw meat, watching movies, and being horribly depressed, the crew’s zombie senpai tells them that eating yogurt will make them feel healthier and more energetic. It works, of course.

In a big Romero reference, zombies are somehow drawn to malls. Dandy uses an insurance policy he’d taken on himself to get paid for his own death, after nagging at the insurance company over an ordeal of time. The zombie talk-show scene from Shaun of the Dead is almost exactly recreated, only using the identity-hiding wall that is a trademark of Japanese talk-show parodies. By the end of the episode, the entire world has been zombified, and all that happens is that the Space Dandy universe more than ever resembles the world that we currently live in.

It’s worth noting that just as Space Dandy and his crew are frequently killed and reborn in every episode, the Gogol commander chasing him faces a similar cycle. Nothing ever changes.

What It Means To Kill Space Dandy

In each episode of Space Dandy, the evil conglomerate Gogol tries to capture and/or kill the titular character. They consider him the most dangerous force in the universe, and claim that as long as they can capture him, they can conquer the universe once and for all. Near as we can tell, Space Dandy should have no reason to be so important, given that he’s just a loser bounty hunter who goes on random adventures; but when we consider that “Space Dandy” is also the title of the show itself, it becomes apparent that Gogol’s desire to eliminate Space Dandy is actually an allegory.

What Space Dandy represents as a series is unrepressed, boundless creativity. It’s a production wherein a massive number of creative minds have been given free reign to express themselves on Shinichiro Watanabe’s space canvas. In an anime industry that overpoweringly caters to its fanbase, with few original ideas managing to break the mold, Space Dandy is one of the few places where the creators still rule.

Gogol’s space ship is a giant Statue of Liberty head with a ball gag in its mouth. It represents the repression of free speech, which is exactly what Space Dandy stands for. In the first episode, Space Dandy’s crew is killed in an explosion, yet all of them are alive again in the next episode. The timeline of events necessitates that the first episode is indeed the first, and not the last, in the timeline, as if to show that no matter what, Space Dandy can never truly be killed. Creativity will always live on.