The concept of “Possibility Control” itself sparks immediate intrigue, especially when intertwined with the harsh realities of modern economics. Imagine an anime that dares to explore the anxieties and battles fought within a struggling economy, all wrapped up in a visually dynamic, action-packed package. This is precisely the kind of innovative premise one might expect from a director like Nakamura, known for pushing boundaries, and perfectly suited for the noitaminA timeslot, a block typically associated with anime that prioritize originality over mainstream appeal. When news of [C] – Control – The Money of Soul and Possibility first surfaced, it promised a fresh and unique viewing experience. The shift in production studio to Tatsunoko from Toei (known for Mononoke and Trapeze) seemed a minor detail at the time, easily overlooked in the rising tide of anticipation. However, this initial excitement ultimately crashed against the rocks of disappointment, leaving behind a sense of frustration rather than fulfillment. [C] doesn’t just miss the mark set by Nakamura’s previous acclaimed works; it veers dramatically off course, failing to capitalize on its intriguing premise and ultimately stumbling into mediocrity.
Promising Premise, Poor Execution of Economic Themes
Initially, [C] draws you in with a protagonist, Yoga, who embodies the struggles of many in a precarious economy. A student juggling multiple jobs, scrimping on expenses, and striving for academic success, Yoga is instantly relatable. The anime taps into the universal anxieties of navigating higher education and financial strain, even hinting at the complexities of personal relationships amidst economic hardship. This initial portrayal of a character wrestling with financial realities is arguably the strongest element of [C], offering a point of connection for the audience. Regrettably, this promising start quickly plateaus. The narrative swiftly transitions into the fantastical “Financial District,” a parallel dimension where economic battles, termed “Deals,” are fought using avatars called “Assets,” reminiscent of popular monster-collecting franchises. Victory in these “Deals” yields “Midas Money,” while defeat supposedly erodes one’s future.
While the concept of a “Financial District” and battles for economic stakes is conceptually intriguing, the execution in [C] lacks depth and meaningful commentary. The anime superficially gestures towards economic themes without truly engaging with them. “Midas Money” serves as a vague reward system, and the economic terminology, such as attack names like “Micro,” “Macro,” and “Mezzo,” feels like window dressing rather than genuine integration of economic principles. Even the late-series introduction of hyperinflation feels contrived and lacks a coherent context within the established rules of the “Financial District.” Those anticipating a nuanced exploration of economics akin to Spice & Wolf will find [C] sorely lacking. The anime utilizes economic fantasy as a backdrop for its battles, failing to deliver any relevant or insightful social commentary on the “money of soul and possibility control.” The potential for exploring the soul of economics, the human element within financial systems, and the control exerted by money over possibilities is largely squandered in favor of shallow battle sequences and a convoluted plot.
Character Failures and Missed Potential
Yoga: The Passive Protagonist Who Doesn’t Control His Possibilities
Yoga, despite his initially relatable struggles, quickly devolves into a passive protagonist who rarely drives the narrative. His motivations remain vague, centered around the generic anime trope of “protecting something,” without any substantial exploration of what he truly values or how he intends to achieve it. Throughout the series, Yoga reacts to external forces rather than actively shaping his destiny. Even his climactic battles are initiated by others, not born from his own independent resolve. This passivity directly contradicts the notion of “possibility control.” Yoga never truly seizes control of his own possibilities; he is merely swept along by the plot, making him a frustratingly underdeveloped character. The initial promise of a protagonist grappling with economic agency fades as he becomes another generic battle shounen lead, devoid of genuine depth or compelling personal growth.
Mikuni: The Antagonist Who Understands Money and Control Better
In stark contrast to Yoga’s idealism, the antagonist, Mikuni, embodies a cold, pragmatic understanding of economic control. Mikuni drives the plot forward and exhibits far more characterization than the protagonist. His actions and motivations, while antagonistic, are rooted in a clear philosophy, making him a significantly more compelling figure. Mikuni’s pragmatism and calculated approach to the “Financial District” arguably align more closely with the concept of “money of soul and possibility control” than Yoga’s reactive stance. The series hints that Mikuni might have been the more natural protagonist, and his character certainly possesses the complexity and drive that Yoga lacks. The focus on Yoga feels like a forced attempt to appeal to a younger demographic, sacrificing narrative depth in the process.
Supporting Cast: Archetypes and Narrative Dead Ends
The supporting characters in [C] fare even worse, largely relegated to one-dimensional archetypes. Msyu, Masakaki, and Jennifer, among others, are defined by single gimmicks rather than nuanced personalities. They serve as plot devices or opponents for Yoga in the “Financial District,” but contribute little to the overarching narrative or thematic exploration of “money of soul and possibility control.” Even potentially interesting characters, like the professor and the charity worker, are fleeting, appearing for single episodes without impacting the main storyline. This episodic structure clashes with the overarching plot, resulting in a disjointed narrative where character development and thematic depth are sacrificed for repetitive battles and superficial interactions.
Visual and Technical Deficiencies Undermine the Concept
Animation and Cinematography: A Control Failure
Perhaps the most significant failing of [C] lies in its visual presentation. Even with a lackluster plot, compelling visuals could have salvaged the viewing experience, especially considering Nakamura’s reputation for visually striking works. However, [C] suffers from surprisingly poor animation, awkward cinematography, and bland scene composition. Cuts and transitions are jarring and lack purpose. The anime employs abrupt cuts, a stylistic choice reminiscent of Mononoke and Trapeze, but in those works, the jarring cuts served to enhance the surreal and tension-filled atmospheres. In [C], these cuts feel arbitrary, highlighting the low budget and masking animation shortcomings rather than contributing to a unique visual style. Simple actions, like a character crossing the street, are depicted with disjointed cuts and minimal animation, further emphasizing the visual mediocrity. While Mononoke and Trapeze also operated with budget constraints, they cleverly utilized scene layout, angles, and composition to compensate, even delivering moments of breathtaking animation. [C] lacks this visual ingenuity, resulting in poorly animated and visually unengaging battles that directly contradict the dynamic potential of “possibility control” as a concept.
Aesthetics and Sound: Lack of Soul
Adding to the visual woes, [C]’s aesthetics are undeniably weak. Character designs are generic and uninspired, and the color palette clashes jarringly with the prominent CGI elements. Unlike Mononoke, which seamlessly integrated CGI, in [C], the CGI is obtrusive and visually discordant, particularly the character models rendered entirely in CGI. This lack of visual cohesion further detracts from the overall experience. The musical score is largely forgettable, only becoming noticeable in the final episodes. The voice acting, similarly, fails to inject life into the already flat characters, contributing to a sense of lifelessness that permeates the entire anime. Ultimately, [C] lacks the visual and auditory “soul” that could have elevated its intriguing premise and compensated for its narrative shortcomings.
Conclusion
Is [C] – Control – The Money of Soul and Possibility worth watching? Regrettably, the answer is a resounding no, especially for viewers drawn in by Nakamura’s name or the promise of an intelligent, economically themed anime. Despite initial high hopes, [C] fails to rise above mediocrity in almost every aspect. The writing is inconsistent and underdeveloped, the visuals are subpar, and the overall execution squanders the potential of its intriguing premise. If you seek an intelligent and engaging fighting anime, or a work that captures the quirky brilliance of Nakamura’s previous projects, [C] will undoubtedly leave a bitter taste. It stands as a missed opportunity, a case study in how a promising concept – “The Money Of Soul And Possibility Control” – can be lost in translation through poor execution and a lack of vision.
