UlasanAnime.com – Constructing an audiovisual narrative, particularly when dealing with sensitive themes like explicit content, presents unique challenges. This is a lesson often learned in film schools, though the author notes that such discussions can be difficult to have openly and seriously with others online.
The core argument is that sex, much like any other element in an audiovisual narrative, serves a purpose. While typical “ero anime” might be considered poor in quality apart from their explicit nature, they succeed in their intended function. However, using a sex scene as a mere coda or conclusion to a resolved relationship often feels like a misplaced choice.
Approaching this topic requires a degree of psychological insight. Sex in media is inherently divisive, even in less conservative societies. Explicit sexual acts tend to elicit immediate reactions from audiences, which can be distracting. It becomes questionable how such scenes contribute to the story’s narrative, especially when the plot, such as a romance story, has already reached a near-resolution.
Distractions, when skillfully employed, can be powerful tools. The author cites the film REC as an example, where a non-explicit scene effectively served as a compelling hook. In REC, the story’s theme of human reliance is bolstered by a sexual act, framing the issue within a broader context and adding thematic weight.
However, the author questions the ethical implications of using sex or fanservice purely for shock value. While these elements might divert attention from the underlying narrative for some viewers, the question arises: what if the show itself is not primarily focused on that narrative?
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The typical “TEROGE” (eroge, or erotic game) is described as a “wild goose chase,” where sex is the prize that excites the player. The author ponders whether the acclaim for these games comes from the characters, the narrative, or the pursuit itself.
In the context of the Fate/Stay Night anime, the author suggests it was more akin to a “wild dragon chase.”
The central question posed is whether there is a rational basis for criticizing poorly executed or cheap fanservice and sex scenes. Complaining about sex scenes in explicit pornographic material is deemed nonsensical. However, the inverse question—whether pornographic scenes are inappropriate in non-pornographic works—is explored. This is not in an overly artistic sense, but even within popular mass media. The author acknowledges that implications of sex, and even explicit depictions, can be valid when they are critically relevant to the show’s purpose, citing examples like Rahx, Eva, and Berserk.
Ultimately, the piece invites reflection: Do viewers like or dislike these scenes? Is the use of sex and fanservice in such contexts akin to “killing the goose to get the golden egg”—sacrificing substance for a superficial gain?
