Guilty Crown episode two—sure is Eureka Seven and Code Geass in here, amirite? Do you even need to watch Code Geass episode two anymore after this? (Answer below.)
No one’s surprised that this show is a lot like Code Geass. A rule I’ve discovered is that if you find a show you’re watching seems awful similar to another show you’ve seen, then there’s a good chance that the same people worked on it. Here, Yoshino Hiroyuki (writer) was the assistant writer of Code Geass; and the guy who created Code Geass (apparently), Okouchi Ichiro, is also helping with the script. These guys are clearly super-relevant, because who else can we point at for these similarities? Guilty Crown is by Production I.G. whom, while pros of the sci-fi setting, haven’t done anything quite like this. Araki Tetsuro directed Death Note, which people often compare to Code Geass, but the way in which those shows are most similar isn’t present in Guilty Crown (not to say that he isn’t a part of this). So let’s analyze each of their involvement through pure speculation.
Yoshino Hiroyuki is clearly some kind of fanservice God—a man capable of making series whose focus is never solely fanservice, yet wherein such is ever-present (the best way to do it). This guy created Seikon no Qwaser, possibly the raunchiest shounen action manga this side of Go Nagai. He also wrote Mai-HiME and Mai-Otome, two of Sunrise’s more fanservice-heavy series. We’ll leave aside the rest of his very interesting catalog of works for now—the point is, Guilty Crown is overflowing with fanservice to a level on par with Code Geass. Observe: the dancing nekomimi loli pilot.
I didn’t even skip that many frames—all of this was like two seconds of animation. I can totally imagine watching this with ghostlightning and him just saying, “wow.” They took the motorcycle cockpits from Code Geass, ramped them up to full range motion and put the most energetic character they could in the cockpit. Well, one of them—there’s also a more conventional cockpit which, when fallen out of, creates perfect breast movement.
Moving right along, Okouchi Ichiro, creator of Code Geass, is obviously important. I don’t know if it’s relevant that he wrote Turn A Gundam and Overman King Gainer, but it’s hilarious so I’m pointing it out. No—more importantly, he wrote episodes 6, 20, and 26 of Eureka Seven. I’m not sure about 6 or 26, but I know episode 20 was the height of tension between Holland and Renton—and where Renton learns that Holland wanted to be the one to pilot the Nirvash with Eureka, but couldn’t because the Nirvash chose Renton. Now observe this conversation between Gai and main dude over Inori’s failure:
Interesting! Then we have Daryl Yan.
He’s totally Anemone, right down to the line-work of his outfit. He’s a self-important bitch and batshit insane, but loyal to a certain higher up (his dad) and eager to do his work. Also, he’s a foil to Inari in that, like her, he has a weapon that can be yanked from his chest. Unlike Anemone, however, he seems to have no Dominic, and instead the main guy is the one to yank that shit out.
Tetsuro Araki’s influence in all of this is more understated, but probably equally important. Having directed Death Note, he knows how to handle twist-heavy mind game scenarios like the one Gai uses in this episode and which Lelouch was so fond of in Code Geass. He’s no slouch for the fanservice aspect either, having directed Highschool of the Dead. Here, he is simply The Man For the Job.
Returning to Code Geass—this episode bore staggering resemblance to Code Geass episode two, from the mecha, to the setting, to the vehicles, to the genocide, to the tricky plan. The episode doesn’t stand up to its forebear, however, because by the end of Code Geass episode two, Lelouch was an interesting character with a strong sense of self. You may have noticed that I’ve been referring to the main guy in Guilty Crown as “main guy” throughout this post—that’s because I can’t remember his name, because I dont’ give half a shit about him. He’s done nothing interesting except for pull things from peoples’ chests. Gai, who’s the mastermind of the operation, is utterly boring so far, constantly spouting aggravating cliches and acting like a douche. Even Inori, for all that I could stare at her chest, is so uninteresting that the moment another flat-chested girl came along with a little more personality, I’d forgotten all about her.
There are good things about Guilty Crown, but you know what they are. Instead, I’ll leave you with the most Code Geassian image of the entire episode: