Fractale

Clain (Yu Kobayashi/Brina Palencia), a young teenaged boy, lives in a cottage on the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea, with his dog, his mother and father. Correction: with the virtual doppels of his dog, mother and father – for the flesh-and-blood originals are far away, pursuing their personal dreams and ambitions, leaving their son to indulge his obsession with ancient technological artefacts, such as mobile phones and cameras. This is our world in the far future where the Fractale System (protected by the Temple and its priestesses) controls most of mankind, immersing them in a wish-fulfilling form of virtual reality.

Clain’s peaceful life is shattered when he rescues a girl, Phryne (Minami Tsuda/Caitlin Glass) who’s being hotly pursued by a trio of shady-looking types. Phryne disappears, leaving a blue jewel behind – and when Clain, overcome by curiosity, attempts to access the data it contains, he releases Nessa (Kana Hanazawa/Luci Christian) a charming and childlike humanoid doppel. But other people want Nessa – most of all the priestesses of the Temple – because she and Phryne together are the key to the secret of Fractale. And Fractale is slowly disintegrating.

Captured by the shady trio, Clain and Nessa find themselves prisoners of the Granites, a group of freedom fighters/terrorists who have turned their backs on the easy life offered by Fractale. Their leader Sunda and his younger sister, the feisty, tsundere Enri, belong to a movement known as LM, or the Lost Millenium, whose members have returned to the old ways, growing their own food and raising their children. Caught between the powerful church and the traditional lifestyle of the Granites, Clain finds himself forced to make some very difficult choices. Above all he wants to find Phryne again – and now that Nessa is so attached to him, he finds himself in mortal danger as the Temple hunts Nessa down.

The makers of Fractale seem at first to be paying homage to Studio Ghibli; the opening scenes where Phyne is pursued in a thrilling aerial chase by Enri and her two shady-looking sidekicks is strongly reminiscent of the opening of Laputa. But the light-hearted tone of the earlier episodes changes dramatically when the Granites show how ruthless they can be, attacking a religious ritual held by the priestesses of Fractale. This sudden change of pace and mood suggests that the creative team maybe hoped for a longer series and then were told they had to wrap in eleven episodes. It happens so often in anime.

Girls who are the ‘key’ to mankind’s destiny; a religious organisation that hides a sinister agenda beneath its seemingly benevolent exterior; futuristic flying temples and steampunkish airships – Fractale has all of these, and none of them are particularly original, these days. And yet there’s a fresh feeling to the way the creative team mix all these ingredients together and come up with an involving series. There’s something genuinely appealing about the main trio: Clain’s stubborn earnestness is endearing, as is his enthusiastic delight whenever he discovers some ‘new’ piece of old technology; Nessa’s childlike spontaneity is infectious (where it could have been obnoxious) and in spite of her dark past, Phryne comes across as a complex but strong individual.

Fractale looks really good with backgrounds that are – I understand – inspired by the coast of Ireland. The creative team who put it together are mostly new to me: original character design is credited to Hidari, the original story to Hiroki Azuman and the atmospheric music to Souhei Kano, with director Yutaka Yamamoto (The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumaya) in charge. Fractale also deals with some unusual and difficult issues when Phryne’s dark and abused past is revealed. The troubled characters of freedom fighter Dias and his opposite, High Priestess Moeran, are fascinating – but not given nearly enough screen time to be fully developed. A series only eleven episodes long, alas, is just not enough to explore these fascinating ideas and characters – but, nevertheless, Fractale does remarkably well within the limitations.

Both the Opening ‘Harinezumi’ and the Ending ‘Down by the Salley Gardens’ are sung by Hitomi Azuma. This last song is better known in the UK in the setting by Benjamin Britten, but this charming folksy arrangement enhances the Celtic atmosphere of Fractale. Another song that plays a significant role in the story is the simple melody ‘I look up to the sky and offer a prayer to the day star’.

When not voicing the role of ‘one hell of a butler’ and other favourite anime characters, J. Michael Tatum is quite a dab hand at script-writing, as his English dialogue for Fractale shows. His script works so much better as a dramatic vehicle for the US voice actors than the rather clumsy (and sometimes plainly crass) subtitles (I’m sure that the original Japanese works perfectly but I haven’t the linguistic expertise to comment, alas.) The commentary to Episode 1, with Tatum and Scott Freeman (who voices Sunda) is really interesting, managing to be both enlightening and thoughtful. I wish I could say the same about the commentary to Episode 7, which is delivered by ADR Director Colleen Clinkenbeard and Brina Palencia (who voices Clain.) Both are experienced voice actors – but, disappointingly, they seem to have been overcome by a fit of the giggles when recording the commentary. ‘Nuff said.

Fractale makes for a fascinating watch. It’s not perfect, but its underlying theme about where mankind’s troubled relationship with technology may lead in the future is thoughtfully handled. Its main strength lies in its character interractions – but there’s also plenty of action to keep the viewer on the edge of their seat.