But it holds back just enough. The casual way the characters converse while baring it all played as natural without being excessive.

As might be expected, the fan service is merely a distraction to the strong character building and much weaker external conflict between the pilots and the mindless antagonists. It’s reminiscent of the Cylon Raiders in re-imagined Battlestar Galatica series. What would that show be without the 12 humanoid models to add a personality to their barbarism? Probably something like Gunbuster.

Shame really, since the list of talent involved reads like a Who’s Who of the world of giant robots. Founding member of Gainax, Yoshiyuki Sadamoto, character designer for Evangelion, adapted Haruhiko Mikimoto’s original artwork. Fans of Mikimoto will know his designs from the original Super Dimensional Fortress Macross series as well as Gundam 0080. The mechanical designs come courtesy of Kazutaka Miyatake, also of Macross fame, and Koichi Ohata of M.D. Geist infamy.

Despite the all big names, the story lacks the depth to truly be considered a masterpiece. We’re led to believe that seventeen-year old Noriko Takaya, initially possessing little to no skill in the mechanics of robot piloting is able to learn the ins-and-outs through the force of sheer willpower and tenacity. Right.

Thankfully, we are spared the entirety of her eventual ascension by way of prodigal birthright of her deceased Admiral father. Instead, a quick montage straight out of Rocky shows her performing asinine exercises with her giant RX-7 fighting suit. Sure, trying to maintain your balance and mastering agile feats of sheer awesomeness is understandable, but doing push-ups with tires on your back with a mecha is just plain dumb. There might as well have been a scene where the robot swallows a silo filled with egg yolks.

When it comes down to it, Hideaki Anno is about as creative as George Lucas in the writing of original characters. Noriko’s transformation from crybaby to badass happens way too quickly, even with the catastrophic events that transpire in the course of one episode to ostensibly justify it.

Likewise, the wimpy character traits seem to jump around from character to character like a hot potato. Nowhere is this more prevalent than when the pristine ace, Kazumi Amano, spontaneously falls apart when she realizes that her love interest might be lost due to the dreaded “Rip Van Winkle Effect,” wherein time passes normally for our heroes while Earth’s time literally zooms by as they travel at light speed.

Indeed, that is the most fascinating aspect of Gunbuster’s story. The manipulation of time and aging due to space warping makes for poignant moments amongst the fighting. However, these concepts too are sullied by being explained in painstaking detail in the “science lessons” that accompany each episode. In them, super-deformed versions of the main characters perform horrible skits that pontificate fictitious scientific principals. Regardless of a few Blade Runner references, they’re not entertaining.

Like the science, the series suffers from a muddied sense of purpose. Without the foil of an intelligent villain, Gunbuster, for all its ambition, never really goes past large explosions and ugly creatures. Space monsters serve as a secondary distraction, occasionally manufacturing moments of suspense but rarely creating any genuine moments of awe. Exposition from the characters ultimately proves more fascinating than the one-sided fight sequences.  

The strength of this series came from the character interactions, seen mainly between the three pilots. Even the much-celebrated final “touching display” of hackneyed patriotism falls flat. Nevertheless, the ending does manage to feel complete and emphasized the strength of deep emotional harvesting. After several centuries, a young girl and her senpai defeat an enemy that reproduces in a freaking star.

Much like time dilation, Gunbuster’s story leaves you longing for more time to develop personal bonds and less time fighting a soulless monster.

Rating: C+