Lain, the lonely little girl stood on the bridge watching those she knew better than was known by, removed from the memory of, is extraordinary. There must be something about her that is enough to captivate herself, but for some reason it is too difficult to share it. Ever felt like that?
Sounding pretentious yet? Well that's no big deal. There's something in this series that speaks volumes.
SEL is cheaply made, somewhat poorly voiced (English dub), and was broadcast at 1.30am in Japan. It was, however, a surprise hit. It's not difficult to see why. Critics point out a similarity to Neon Genesis Evangelion's later episodes, and do so with some foundation. Perhaps part of the success was due to the stupendous NGE wave, but SEL is very good regardless.
Lain Iwakura is a young schoolgirl with little interest in technology. Her friend's introduce her to the Wired – an alternate internet – and she quickly becomes obsessed. She finds an outlet for her bottled up persona in the faceless world of online interaction. Things become more complicated with a string of suicides. Online presences claim to be the deceased, and encourage others to free themselves of their material existence to run free in the rhizome of the collective consciousness. Lain delves deeper into the Wired, exploring the tenuous gap between real life, and the network.
It's certainly not an untouched subject in anime or other media, but SEL captivates well. Similar to Hideako Anno's work not only in approach to mental strife, but the use of interesting angles, simple designs and excruciatingly slow pace.
When I first watched this series, about six year ago, I must have been a massive stoner because I had no idea what was going on, and stuffed it in the back of a drawer somewhere. On second viewing there was a lot in there to think about. Very interesting issues are, if not discussed, exposed. "You don't have to remain a wretched human being forever" - the world is but a physical representation of the information flowing through the Wired, given presence merely to verify its existence - very Ghost in the Shell, perhaps.
It also comes out with some seriously dark matter: "So you want to hurt too, do you? Do you want your heart to feel like it's been scraped across with a rasp? If you do, don't look away, whatever you do," opens episode 8. Creepy.
At times it does feel as though it is a bit full of itself, and reluctant to give away what the hell it is essentially banging on about (though nowhere near as bad as, for example, Lost). The tiny budget doesn't help this along – there are many single-cell moments and count-the-frame animations.
However let's forgive it, because it is clever, and it's okay to know that you are clever sometimes.
The ending wasn't quite what I'd hoped for, though I did like it. The message to take away, though, is that your life comes down to what you believe it to be, and what you want it to be. If you are not remembered, you never existed. If you do not share knowledge, then you may as well not have any. There is one truth, that is the truth, and that is you and what you do. Something like that.
Sounding pretentious yet? Well that's no big deal. There's something in this series that speaks volumes.
SEL is cheaply made, somewhat poorly voiced (English dub), and was broadcast at 1.30am in Japan. It was, however, a surprise hit. It's not difficult to see why. Critics point out a similarity to Neon Genesis Evangelion's later episodes, and do so with some foundation. Perhaps part of the success was due to the stupendous NGE wave, but SEL is very good regardless.
Lain Iwakura is a young schoolgirl with little interest in technology. Her friend's introduce her to the Wired – an alternate internet – and she quickly becomes obsessed. She finds an outlet for her bottled up persona in the faceless world of online interaction. Things become more complicated with a string of suicides. Online presences claim to be the deceased, and encourage others to free themselves of their material existence to run free in the rhizome of the collective consciousness. Lain delves deeper into the Wired, exploring the tenuous gap between real life, and the network.
It's certainly not an untouched subject in anime or other media, but SEL captivates well. Similar to Hideako Anno's work not only in approach to mental strife, but the use of interesting angles, simple designs and excruciatingly slow pace.
When I first watched this series, about six year ago, I must have been a massive stoner because I had no idea what was going on, and stuffed it in the back of a drawer somewhere. On second viewing there was a lot in there to think about. Very interesting issues are, if not discussed, exposed. "You don't have to remain a wretched human being forever" - the world is but a physical representation of the information flowing through the Wired, given presence merely to verify its existence - very Ghost in the Shell, perhaps.
It also comes out with some seriously dark matter: "So you want to hurt too, do you? Do you want your heart to feel like it's been scraped across with a rasp? If you do, don't look away, whatever you do," opens episode 8. Creepy.
At times it does feel as though it is a bit full of itself, and reluctant to give away what the hell it is essentially banging on about (though nowhere near as bad as, for example, Lost). The tiny budget doesn't help this along – there are many single-cell moments and count-the-frame animations.
However let's forgive it, because it is clever, and it's okay to know that you are clever sometimes.
The ending wasn't quite what I'd hoped for, though I did like it. The message to take away, though, is that your life comes down to what you believe it to be, and what you want it to be. If you are not remembered, you never existed. If you do not share knowledge, then you may as well not have any. There is one truth, that is the truth, and that is you and what you do. Something like that.