You Had Me At Hello (or Shows That Grab You From Episode One)

We've all started books, sat down to television shows, met a prospective suitor or listened to a new album and found ourselves unsure of whether the object of our attention was worth spending additional time on.  Sometimes we might know it is worthy of the time expenditure, but only think the item in question is passable, somewhat amusing, or just okay. 

Then there are other times when from the first word, scene, or song, we are entranced, or at least hooked and we couldn't possibly imagine not continuing the experience.

There are many fantastic anime series.  Many of my favorites I took a little while to warm up to.  Even some classics do not hit their stride until a few episodes in - though I love Cowboy Bebop and think every episode is at least very well done, it was not at least until episodes 4 and 5 (episode 4 when Faye Valentine becomes a regular character and Bebop inhabitant, and episode 5 when Vicious makes his first appearance and you begin to get an inkling of Spike's back story) that I started to understand what all the fuss was about.  By the end of the series I was (and still am) of the opinion that Bebop ranked among the very best shows (anime or otherwise) I'd ever watched.  Similarly, though early episodes of both Eureka Seven and Neon Genesis Evangelion sparked my interest, I did not fall in love with (in Eureka Seven's case) or become morbidly fascinated by (in Evangelion's case) those series until the full casts of characters had been introduced and their future worlds fleshed out. 

That said, others series really did "have me at hello."  That is not to say that those series remained as compelling throughout, or even that they currently rank in personal favorites.  They did, however, have that strange and mysterious chemistry to grab my attention from the get-go. 

When They Cry immediately gets any viewer's attention.  It opens with a remarkably violent scene, followed by a colorful title sequence, and then followed up by what appears to be an idyllic small town.  The juxtaposition of such a graphic introduction with the quiet normalcy of the post-title scene is jarring.  The paradoxical nature of the show is only heightened as it becomes clear that the big-eyed and innocent looking young female characters have incredibly dark secrets. 

Both Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex and Welcome to the NHK manage to be cerebral, fascinating, inventive and compelling from the first episode.  GitS:SAC is a brilliant and mature science fiction story, well-crafted and logical, and in many ways quite plausible (it served as some of the inspiration for the mega-hit Matrix).  You meet most of the Section 9 team, you get a rough introduction to some of their enhanced capabilities, and you have the Major showing just how much ass she kick (both cybernetic and human). 

In contrast, Welcome to the NHK is a clever psychological drama, comedy, dramedy, black comedy . . . let's just say it is hard to explain.  The show follows the exploits, embarrassments and anxieties of Sato, a hikikomori (Japanese term referring to the phenomenon of socially withdrawn individuals with extreme levels of isolation).  Observing Sato's daily life is usually painful, often funny, and always insightful.  His issues, though extreme, are sadly relate-able, and though the show has definite flights of fancy (not least of which is his burgeoning conspiracy theory behind why Japan has so many hikikomori, and the fact that he sometimes believes the appliances in his apartment come to life and discuss said conspiracy with him), even such unreasonableness is almost justifiable considering the protagonist's state of mind. 

From Welcome to the NHK - how could you not be caught up in this guy's drama?

A good fight can also serve as entree to a series and grab the viewer's attention and affection from the first kick, punch, sword strike, or bullet fired.  Black Lagoon commences with high speed chases, frenzied gun-play, and a head-on-head fight with a helicopter.  Samurai Champloo's first episode feature multiple fights, but the centerpiece is the impromptu clash of Mugen (with an undisciplined and frenetic fighting style, involving both sword and limbs) and Jin (the classic stoic and tightly controlled ronin, whose swordplay is elegant and calculated).  Black Lagoon managed to get even better as it developed; Samurai Champloo is a bit less even, though it was and remains exciting and interesting throughout.

Multiple shows capture their audiences from the first episode because you really have no clue what the hell is going on.  Ergo Proxy was confusing in the first episode, and was confusing in every episode that followed.  It still makes no damn sense to me (OK, it makes some sense, but not enough to be utterly comprehensible).  Ergo Proxy is science fiction/fantasy, and you can tell the authors didn't quite know what to do with all of their interesting ideas.  Which might hurt if looking for logic, but doesn't hurt if you want to be taken for a ride.  The art in Ergo Proxy is brooding, and the music and animation is excellent and apparent from the first episode on.  Baccano! is a fantasy, mafia, Prohibition, alchemy, caper story.  Confusing?  Well, add to that mixed premise the fact that the story is told in non-chronological order, jumping between more than 250 years over the course of its 13 episodes.  Oh, and did I mention some of the characters are immortal?  Yeah, well, the title of the show is (loosely) Italian for a din or a ruckus, and the show is nothing if not aptly titled.  That said, the ride is wild and fast from the start, and as soon as you see a character get pumped full of bullets, only to get up and walk away as if nothing happened - well, you're hooked (if perplexed). 

Then there's Gunslinger Girl, whose eponymous character(s) is (are) reconstituted girls, rebuilt (after being either abandoned by their parents or otherwise finagled from them by the state) with no memories, a reinforced body, and trained with all the skills necessary to an assassin.  You see Henrietta (one of multiple gunslinger girls in the show) with her "handler," Jose.  They encounter their quarry, and Henrietta's violin case is revealed to contain something far more deadly than a fine string instrument.  You immediately wonder why she is heavily armed, why she takes the lead in the killing, and why you are still watching (it is exceedingly disturbing).  But you don't look away.  The show remains disturbing throughout, but as bits and pieces of the girls' histories are revealed, and the ethical ramifications are tangentially dealt with, it remains gripping and hard not to watch.

Of course, there are those true classics that grab viewers as soon as the hit play.  Any such discussion would be remiss not to mention Fullmetal Alchemist and The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya.  The shows couldn't be more different, but both are beloved, critically acclaimed, and boast amazing beginnings and steady quality throughout.  FMA opens with the shocking and heart rending scene of Ed and Al breaking the most important rule of alchemy and trying to resurrect their dead mother.  The results are horrifying and lay the groundwork for the following years of their lives, as they try to rectify what went so wrong. 

Haruhi, in extreme contrast, actually has multiple beginnings (depending on whether you watch it in broadcast order or in chronological order) - any way you begin it, the humor is sharp, the satire funny, the characters memorable, and the experience unparalleled.  You just can't go wrong with, or not be instantly absorbed by: a show whose main character meets an alien, a time traveler and an ESPer merely because of the force of her own will; and which is narrated in a dry and witty voice over by the long suffering and only "normal" individual in the show.  Truly brilliant.

Long suffering "normal" dude holding the sign - gotta love it.