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9 of 9 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
An epic tale of fathers, sons and convenient plot lapses, January 22, 1999
By A Customer
After one of the longest waits in cliffhanger history, Mitsuteru Yokoyama finally binds together the Byzantine plot twists, devious red herrings and artful feints of his magnum opus into a tidy, explosion-studded package of rubber science, revisionist history, lung-busting script exposition, dropped threads, scrubbed pay-offs, unmotivated violence and convenient, Deus-Ex-Machina appearances by characters who were either a) previously unintroduced or b) previously introduced, but dead. If you thought it was weird before, hang on to your dress shorts and radio-control wristwatch. Teen angst-master Daisaku ramps-up the Adolescent Torment Index by becoming hypnotically fixated on the pointless rhetorical question, "Can happiness be achieved without sacrifice?"; while Giant Robo develops the useful but highly suspect ability to become about five times bigger than he was the last time the Eye of Folger kicked his rivet-studded butt, without anyone else appearing to notice. Long time fans, especially, will pay good money to stand in line at the "Bitch-Slap Professor Go for a Dollar" concession, after holding his hand through :60 minutes of blubbering, whining guilt and scenery-chewing self-doubt. Nonetheless, it's worth the wait. Fabulous animation, soaring orchestral cuts and non-stop action keep the viewer adhesed to the screen, despite the fact that none of what's happening makes a lick of sense. The episode's self-aware humor and infectious, over-the-top brio are excellent compensation for its technical flaws, and even the flintiest critic would have to concede the impossibility of crafting a totally satisfying resolution to the Olympian expectations raised by the first six episodes. In the end, it doesn't matter. Buy it, load it, crank up the Surround-Sound and prepare to have your wires thoroughly tweaked. Finally, if there is an overarching moral lesson to the two-fold Tragedy at Bastarlle, it seems to be this: If your mortally-wounded/expiring-from-grief father lays an apocalyptic, life-altering death-bed rap on you, remember to ask questions before he cacks up the other lung. Or at least take good notes.
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