Short Takes: Inubaka: Crazy for Dogs, Rosario + Vampire and Slam Dunk

Earlier in the week, I examined three manga for the under-twelve set; today, I review three seinen and shonen titles. The first, Inubaka: Crazy for Dogs (VIZ), focuses on the Woofles Pet Store, where exasperated owner Teppei works side-by-side with the ditzy but dog-savvy Suguri. (She’s so devoted to canids that she wears a collar around her neck.) The second, Rosario + Vampire (VIZ), plays like a cross between Nightschool and Love Hina, documenting the romantic and supernatural misadventures of a human who accidentally enrolls in a school for monsters. And the third, Slam Dunk (VIZ), is the sports comedy that put Takehiko Inoue on the map and introduced Japan to the pick-and-roll.

INUBAKA: CRAZY FOR DOGS, VOL. 14

BY YUKIKA SAKURAGI • VIZ • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+) • 220 pp.

Let’s face it: Inubaka has flaws the way some dogs have fleas, from a heroine whose naivete comes dangerously close to stupidity to the manga-ka’s over-reliance on traced drawings of fancy breeds. But Inubaka also has plenty of heart, from its on-point messages about owner responsibility to its poignant depictions of human-dog relationships. In volume fourteen, for example, Suguri once again allows sentiment to trump sense, aggressively lobbying Teppei to mate Noa with Lupin. Teppei demurs, pointing to the large number of unwanted mutts in shelters as a compelling reason to neuter Lupin, not breed him. When Suguri persists, Teppei resorts to an experiential learning exercise: Suguri must find a good home for a shy, abused dog before Teppei would consider a Noa-Lupin pairing.

The plotline is didactic, to be sure, but manga-ka Yukiya Sakuragi’s sincere critique of canine homelessness is moving, a potent reminder that we often treat sentient creatures as disposable objects. Lest the tone become too serious, the volume ends with a bonus story about Lupin’s puppy days (like my childhood dog Bogart, Lupin was an inveterate underwear thief) and an assortment of candid dog photos submitted by their owners, the kind of omake that are calculated to elicit an appreciate “Awwwww” from dog otakus such as myself. Mileage will vary according to readers’ interest in dogs.

Review copy provided by VIZ Media, LLC.

ROSARIO + VAMPIRE, VOL. 9

BY AKIHISA IKEDA • VIZ • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+) • 192 pp.

If Twilight is an unabashedly female fantasy involving an ordinary girl who’s pursued by hot but sensitive male bloodsuckers, then Rosario + Vampire is its obverse, an unabashedly male fantasy in which an ordinary guy is pursued by a bevvy of beautiful, oversexed female monsters. Which is to say: Rosario + Vampire is not written for me, as the boob-and-panty shots attest. I wouldn’t mind the fan service if Rosario + Vampire boasted a smart script or memorable cast, but, like Stephanie Meyers, manga-ka Akihisa Ikeda is so taken with his monsters’ pulchritude and physical strength that he’s forgotten to assign them any personality traits.

Volume nine begins promisingly enough, with an epic showdown between Yokai Academy’s council president Hokuto and human hero Tsukune. Ikeda squanders the opportunity to do something interesting, however, by saddling his characters with windy speeches — Hokuto is obviously a graduate of the James Bond School for Villains, to judge from his endless chatter — and relying on a plot device — doppelgangers — that’s so convenient it would be hilarious if Ikeda weren’t playing the scenario straight. The rest of volume nine is devoted to a cultural festival at which two of Tsukune’s friends, Kurumu and Mizore, try to pass him off as their boyfriend. Both girls, it turns out, have incredibly attractive, youthful mothers who are even more aggressive than their daughters, with Kurumu’s mom going so far as to offer Tsukune a bedroom tutorial. (She’s a succubus. They do that sort of thing.) The cougar humor might be offensive if it weren’t so utterly juvenile; the idea that a sexy, experienced older woman would find anything interesting about a sixteen-year-old boy is as ridiculous a fantasy as the ravishingly handsome Edward falling for the meek, bland Bella. Making things worse is an attempted rape scene in which the normally powerful, take-no-prisoners Moka suddenly finds herself unable to fend off an attacker, providing yet another opportunity for Tsukune to prove his manly worth by rescuing her. I wouldn’t object so strongly to this scene if it made sense in terms of what we know about the characters, but when the creator conveniently ignores his own heroine’s strength just to pander to teenage male taste, it’s hard for me to muster much enthusiasm for the series.

Review copy provided by VIZ Media, LLC.

SLAM DUNK, VOL. 7

BY TAKEHIKO INOUE • VIZ • RATING: TEEN • 188 pp.

Volume seven of Slam Dunk may be my favorite to date, a funny yet dramatic interlude between tournaments that takes the story in an unexpected direction. The volume opens with a bromantic idyll in which rivals Hanamachi and Ryota Miyagi discover that they share the same motivation for playing: love of an unattainable girl. (In Miyagi’s case, the object of his affections is Ayako, the tough, sassy team manager.) The two have a tearful, confessional moment — brothers in unrequited love — that’s both sublimely silly and oddly touching, a rare example of male characters expressing emotional vulnerability in shonen manga. Having forged a new, cooperative relationship on and off the court, Hanamachi and Miyagi’s alliance is sorely tested by the arrival of thugs intent on harming Miyagi. The thugs’ strategy: interrupt practice and bait the entire squad into fighting, thus ensuring the team’s immediate disbandment for unsportsmanlike conduct.

As always, Inoue’s crisp, lively artwork prevents the slugfest from becoming tedious. Inoue doesn’t tell us much about Miyagi’s opponents, but he doesn’t have to: everything we need to know about them is suggested by their appearance, from the muscular, Sylvester Stallone look-alike to the sadist with the shaggy pageboy and gap-toothed smile. (In Inoue’s world, bad hair is a sure sign of evil.) The fight provides Inoue with ample opportunities to draw close-ups of the Shohoku High squad sweating with grim determination — a favorite shonen gambit — but here the alternation between close-ups and dynamic, fist-swinging panels serves a purpose, mimicking the ebb and flow of a real fight.

Inoue also varies the scenes’ rhythm with humor. In one of volume seven’s highlights, for example, Hanamachi’s homeboys gallantly swoop into the fight on gym ropes, a goofy and uninspiring trio of musketeers doing their best to channel Errol Flynn. It’s a welcome bit of comic relief, helping ease the tension of the previous chapter, but it’s also a nifty action sequence in its own right. Inoue’s ability to seamlessly integrate slapstick into the flow of action is just one more reason why Slam Dunk stands head and shoulders above the competition, as Inoue makes every gesture — however preposterous or seemingly inconsequential — play a role in advancing the drama. Recommended.

Review copy provided by VIZ Media, LLC.