Gordon_Harker
Joined May 2007
Welcome to the new profile
We're still working on updating some profile features. To see the badges, ratings breakdowns, and polls for this profile, please go to the previous version.
Reviews17
Gordon_Harker's rating
Newbie lawyer Junko Aoto (Erika Todo) lands a job at top Tokyo law firm Friedman & Serizawa, working as the assistant to founding partner Gou Serizawa (Koichi Sato) no less. Later that same day she is bowing in effusive thanks to the enigmatic Kei Enomoto (Satoshi Ono), a hi-tech locksmith working for Tokyo Total Security, who has just freed her boss from an airtight bank fault... into which, an hour or so earlier, she had inadvertently locked him.
Thus the viewer is in at the beginning of the association of the three protagonists who form the unlikely team that will investigate a series of 'locked room' murders for the duration of this entertaining series of mysteries with comedic elements.
Each episode essentially consists of a client approaching Serizawa or Aoto with a locked room murder mystery that the police have either deemed to be suicide or misadventure. At first Serizawa's business instinct is to dismiss the requests as non-profitable but he is always overruled by Aoto's youthful enthusiasm and conscience and, indeed, his own curiosity and ennui with his professional life. As the series progresses and the cases attain a certain celebrity, the vain Serizawa becomes caught up in his burgeoning media status as the 'locked room lawyer' and ends up outstripping Aoto in his eagerness to take the cases.
In reality, it is the self-effacing technician Enomoto who actually figures out the facts of each case and supplies the evidence that allows Aoto to construct a case against the true culprits and Serizawa to further his own standing and that of his firm.
Shows with this kind of fixed premise can seem a little formulaic (especially when binge-watched) but, like (e.g.) the BBC's Jonathan Creek, it's the variety and ingenuity of the actual mysteries that engage the viewers' attention. In addition, the comic interaction of the vain and often hypocritical Serizawa (not dissimilar to Creek's Adam Klaus), the anxious and excitable Aoto and the utterly deadpan boffin-like Enomoto makes for a very diverting hour's viewing.
As the series draws to a close, Enomoto's back story emerges and paves the way for a follow up feature length special, broadcast a couple of years after the series, in which a few loose ends are tidied up.
Thus the viewer is in at the beginning of the association of the three protagonists who form the unlikely team that will investigate a series of 'locked room' murders for the duration of this entertaining series of mysteries with comedic elements.
Each episode essentially consists of a client approaching Serizawa or Aoto with a locked room murder mystery that the police have either deemed to be suicide or misadventure. At first Serizawa's business instinct is to dismiss the requests as non-profitable but he is always overruled by Aoto's youthful enthusiasm and conscience and, indeed, his own curiosity and ennui with his professional life. As the series progresses and the cases attain a certain celebrity, the vain Serizawa becomes caught up in his burgeoning media status as the 'locked room lawyer' and ends up outstripping Aoto in his eagerness to take the cases.
In reality, it is the self-effacing technician Enomoto who actually figures out the facts of each case and supplies the evidence that allows Aoto to construct a case against the true culprits and Serizawa to further his own standing and that of his firm.
Shows with this kind of fixed premise can seem a little formulaic (especially when binge-watched) but, like (e.g.) the BBC's Jonathan Creek, it's the variety and ingenuity of the actual mysteries that engage the viewers' attention. In addition, the comic interaction of the vain and often hypocritical Serizawa (not dissimilar to Creek's Adam Klaus), the anxious and excitable Aoto and the utterly deadpan boffin-like Enomoto makes for a very diverting hour's viewing.
As the series draws to a close, Enomoto's back story emerges and paves the way for a follow up feature length special, broadcast a couple of years after the series, in which a few loose ends are tidied up.
Quick Japanese lesson as, AFAIK, there's not been a formal English title for this ultra-obscure series: Owakon is an abbreviation of 'owatta konatento' which means out-of-fashion content, 'owatta' being a past tense of 'owaru' meaning 'to end' and 'konatento' meaning media content, i.e. video, music, printed or other form of entertainment. The term is generally used as a sort of jokey put down for media trends that turned out to have a rather shorter shelf life than hoped for.
A notable example of an eponymically predictive title - given the dearth of evidence that it ever existed just four years after it was broadcast - this short series from NHK is actually rather a neat little attempt at telling the story of a tiny independent production company, serving multiple networks and clinging to existence in the rapidly changing landscape of 21st century Japanese media.
Chocolate TV is the company in question, employing just twenty staff, it's fate depends greatly on the whims of its mercurial president, Genjiro Aramaki, played, believe it or not, by the great Sonny Chiba. Chiba clearly relishes a role much removed from his martial arts origins and plays the ex-variety show producer Aramaki as a rogueish, larger-than-life, one-time industry mover-and-shaker who might have seen better days but who isn't going to let his career nor his company go down without a fight.
The tone is generally comic, with some serious elements. Each episode begins with a minute long sequence, underpinned with a few bars of what sounds like US3's Cantaloop, in which president Aramaki is presented with some viewer feedback by his secretary (while he scoffs chocolates from a seemingly endless supply) to which he typically responds with an earthy or sardonic drop of wisdom.
The story then typically continues with the assignment of some or other challenging task to one of Owakon TV's producers or directors and the remainder of the episode follows their struggles to resolve it, be it a truculent star, falling ratings or a seemingly unworkable concept for a new show. In most cases staff members band together and despite, or because of, president Aramaki's impulsive interventions, generally save the day.
Somewhat aptly given its subject matter, there's nothing massively memorable about this short series but it's very enjoyable nonetheless and the half hour episodes lend themselves well to the end of evening filler slot. There's also a lot of fun to be had watching Sonny Chiba chew the scenery.
A notable example of an eponymically predictive title - given the dearth of evidence that it ever existed just four years after it was broadcast - this short series from NHK is actually rather a neat little attempt at telling the story of a tiny independent production company, serving multiple networks and clinging to existence in the rapidly changing landscape of 21st century Japanese media.
Chocolate TV is the company in question, employing just twenty staff, it's fate depends greatly on the whims of its mercurial president, Genjiro Aramaki, played, believe it or not, by the great Sonny Chiba. Chiba clearly relishes a role much removed from his martial arts origins and plays the ex-variety show producer Aramaki as a rogueish, larger-than-life, one-time industry mover-and-shaker who might have seen better days but who isn't going to let his career nor his company go down without a fight.
The tone is generally comic, with some serious elements. Each episode begins with a minute long sequence, underpinned with a few bars of what sounds like US3's Cantaloop, in which president Aramaki is presented with some viewer feedback by his secretary (while he scoffs chocolates from a seemingly endless supply) to which he typically responds with an earthy or sardonic drop of wisdom.
The story then typically continues with the assignment of some or other challenging task to one of Owakon TV's producers or directors and the remainder of the episode follows their struggles to resolve it, be it a truculent star, falling ratings or a seemingly unworkable concept for a new show. In most cases staff members band together and despite, or because of, president Aramaki's impulsive interventions, generally save the day.
Somewhat aptly given its subject matter, there's nothing massively memorable about this short series but it's very enjoyable nonetheless and the half hour episodes lend themselves well to the end of evening filler slot. There's also a lot of fun to be had watching Sonny Chiba chew the scenery.
Mildly alien to Western sensibilities, the Japanese 'idol' culture is predicated on notions of youthful innocence, 'cuteness' and, importantly, an unblemished character that is intended to serve as a role model for Japanese youth.
TV Taiyo have hurriedly had to find a replacement weather girl for their idol fronted morning show 'Morning Z' as their current one is about to be engulfed in an image tarnishing scandal. Enter Haruko Abe (pron. 'ah-bey', like the former Japanese PM). The serious and somewhat graceless Abe (played by Emi Takei), as the TV Taiyo production team quickly find out, is the very opposite of the cutesy idol they thought they were getting. Instead she is a genius weather forecaster who attained her meteorologist's license at the age of eleven and who eschews meteorological agency data in favour of standing outside and 'feeling' the conditions herself.
Meanwhile, detective Aoki has just sat down to share a coffee with his old friend Mikumo, a forensic pathologist with a 'weather girl' fixation. Mikumo is still dazed by the appearance of Morning Z's new weather girl who has made such an impression on him that he is replaying that morning's clip. Looking over Mikumo's shoulder, Aoki recognizes Abe as the rain cape clad girl who intervened during the previous night's arrest of a suspected arsonist, insisting that the suspect was innocent (it turned out to be ball lightning). Thus a connection is made between the police and weather girl Abe, leading to her involvement in the series of investigations that make up the narrative of this witty and well-honed mystery series
So how many different crimes can there be which can be solved with the help of weather related expertise? A fair number it turns out, especially if you lump in things like gas clouds from illegally dumped rubbish and rivers flowing backwards due to unusual atmospheric conditions. Even so, it's a shortish series of only nine episodes so the writers didn't have to overtax themselves - nor does it outstay its welcome.
Things I enjoyed about 'The Weather Girl Knows':
TV Taiyo have hurriedly had to find a replacement weather girl for their idol fronted morning show 'Morning Z' as their current one is about to be engulfed in an image tarnishing scandal. Enter Haruko Abe (pron. 'ah-bey', like the former Japanese PM). The serious and somewhat graceless Abe (played by Emi Takei), as the TV Taiyo production team quickly find out, is the very opposite of the cutesy idol they thought they were getting. Instead she is a genius weather forecaster who attained her meteorologist's license at the age of eleven and who eschews meteorological agency data in favour of standing outside and 'feeling' the conditions herself.
Meanwhile, detective Aoki has just sat down to share a coffee with his old friend Mikumo, a forensic pathologist with a 'weather girl' fixation. Mikumo is still dazed by the appearance of Morning Z's new weather girl who has made such an impression on him that he is replaying that morning's clip. Looking over Mikumo's shoulder, Aoki recognizes Abe as the rain cape clad girl who intervened during the previous night's arrest of a suspected arsonist, insisting that the suspect was innocent (it turned out to be ball lightning). Thus a connection is made between the police and weather girl Abe, leading to her involvement in the series of investigations that make up the narrative of this witty and well-honed mystery series
So how many different crimes can there be which can be solved with the help of weather related expertise? A fair number it turns out, especially if you lump in things like gas clouds from illegally dumped rubbish and rivers flowing backwards due to unusual atmospheric conditions. Even so, it's a shortish series of only nine episodes so the writers didn't have to overtax themselves - nor does it outstay its welcome.
Things I enjoyed about 'The Weather Girl Knows':
- Emi Takei's deadpan yet charismatic take on Haruko Abe (a complete contrast to the bubbly and excitable characters she often plays); think Saga Norén, but with emotional intelligence
- The observational satire of life behind the scenes in an 'idol' fronted daytime magazine programme and the associated 'idol' fan culture
- The ingenious use of meteorological phenomena as plot devices - even if there was some stretching of credibility now and then
- Some great supporting players, notably comedian Kuranosuke Sasaki as the weather girl obsessed pathologist and Mitsu Dan as the coquettish, geisha-like bar owner.