The Fujiko Telegrams: Lupin III Fujiko Mine, Episode 1

On April 2012, an unexpected thrill came over a small subset of anime admirers here at AD, when one of this season’s big budget revivals appeared on the scene with little fanfare among US anime lovers. To think that despite a number of feature films, as well as several made-for-video projects and TV specials, anime/manga’s most beloved band of criminals had been out of the series loop for nearly three decades.

And with the first two episodes of Lupin III: Fujiko Mine, fans of the master thief have been treated to a visually astonishing, moody, and yet wholly reverent take on Monkey Punch’s classic characters. Sporting animation direction by Takeshi Koike (REDLINE) and head series direction by Sayo Yamamoto (Michiko To Hatchin), this is the kind of television event that is far more than a single AD commentator can handle, so join ElectricV01 and I as we parse through the show in progress!

Episode 1: Master Thief Vs. Lady Looter

Wintermuted: I’m going to open by saying that before I laid my eyes on this project, I had zero clue about what to expect. But right off the bat, when I saw the names behind it, I immediately grew excited. I was also caught off guard by the opening credits that seemed to imply a little more internalization than is normal for a Lupin III production. Happily, certain fears were dashed upon seeing the first few shots of this rendition of how Lupin met Fujiko, and how it retained so much of what I enjoy about a good Lupin caper. What were your impressions of this first encounter as a start?

ElectricV01: Well, like you I wasn’t sure what to expect.  There was no real trailer for the new series to speak of, so the entire visual style caught me off guard.  It’s such a departure visually from everything else we have seen of Lupin in the past 30 years, and I love it.  It looks as if Monkey Punch drew it himself. The character designs and the sketchy animation style hearken back to those original comics from the 60s. And after watching the first episode, I knew this series was going to be something special. It’s got just the perfect amount of nostalgic fun for the old school Lupin fan, while keeping everything new and exciting. This seems like the perfect place for people curious what Lupin is all about to jump on board.  They tell you everything you need to know right there in episode one.

Wintermuted: Oh, for sure. The complete palette on display from the very opening credits were surprising to say the least. And upon considering the names behind it, I’d throw in that this is an all-star production, featuring talents who in many ways have prepped for a project like this their entire careers. And boy, is it an out of the gate labor of love.

Much like what you said, the first episode is something of a typical Lupin adventure, albeit with a truly unique and evocative style reminiscent of the Monkey Punch comics. They even went so far as to mimic printing imperfections! Something I was not expecting at all, considering that this is the first time we’ve got a series that makes Fujiko the center of our story. (She’s a character I’ve always found to be the most complex/realistic of the bunch.) Any thoughts on how they treated the dynamic between her and Lupin’s first meeting?

ElectricV01: I thought it was pretty spot on, sowing the seeds of one of the most famous rivalries in anime.  Lots of people tend to forget Fujiko and Lupin spend just as much time against each other as they do working as a team, and here we get to see how that started brewing. Fujiko obviously already thinks she is a rival to the greatest thief in the world, and Lupin just kinda smirks and wonders what this new gorgeous challenge is really after. And they learn a lot about each other in this first outing: things like how Fujiko will kill people, and Lupin will not. Which is interesting as that is more in step with earlier animated versions of his character. As this show more resembles the manga in style, I was kinda expecting something of a return of the more ruthless Lupin from the original comic where he killed people left and right.

Wintermuted: It was a very interesting choice to make this caper one to not only set up this complicated er-relationship, but to also delve into places they are willing/not willing to go. What this does for me is offer something of a broad slate with which newer viewers may be able to better understand where the classic Lupin comes from. And seeing just how over the top this first caper with the false prophet is, perhaps what it implies is how much more dangerous Fujiko actually is. In classic superhero fashion, this may set up events to come down the line, making Lupin into something much less hopelessly selfish. This, or make him look at darker elements of his psyche, which is something that is often sidestepped for wacky action. (Not that the first episode is short on this in any respect.) Lupin may be playing with some serious fire this time..


ElectricV01: Right, and that also plays in the style of the original manga.  It had lots of wacky, almost MAD magazine style zaniness, but was still quite dark.  Betrayal, death, suicide were all commonplace in the manga. Some of this was touched on in the original “green jacket series” but I think it would be really interesting to see this darkness played with more in the storylines of this new series. Still, I’m glad they’re not straying too far from the character’s personalities as they have been portrayed over the past 40 years.  If you are a Lupin fan, you can watch this and go ,”Yep, that’s Lupin.  Yep, that’s Fujiko.”  And that is great.

Wintermuted: Yeah, ending it with Fujiko accidentally getting a little stoned,  and then leaving with a classic Lupin note as she failed to notice him leaving was a sweet way to round out the first episode. It’s immediately the classic “style vs. cunning” dynamic. (Recurring motif: This is Sayo Yamamoto’s second directorial effort, and her second time featuring a lead character taking off on a sweet bike. Like I mentioned before, primed to work on a series like this.)

ElectricV01: Well, motorcycles and Fujiko aren’t exactly a new concept… She’s been a biker since the first series.  It’s really become an iconic part of her character, riding off on her bike at the end of each episode or movie.  So it was another nice tie into the original series.

Speaking of Fuji-cakes, we would be remiss not to mention the amount of nudity in this show. Lupin started off as somewhat risque show, but over the years tamed out, with the sexuality and nudity only making sparse appearances.  It’s back in full force in this new series. Heck, even during the opening credits there isn’t a scrap of clothes on Fujiko, and she spends most of the first episode naked or nearly naked. This may turn off some new viewers who aren’t expecting it, but it is still a fascinating choice, and one that makes total sense as Fujiko is such a sensual, sexual being.

Wintermuted: And this is what I mean by speaking directly to devotees. This series expects us to be comfortable with this element of the Fujiko character, to the point that we are hopefully ready to take in more about her than we’ve been privy to before. In some respects, the monologue that plays over those beautiful opening credits might even be credited toward the internalizing of a character like Lupin, in hopes of his better understanding of her nature, and perhaps even explaining his inexplicable attraction to her. And again, this series doesn’t stop like so many recent shows and ruminate, it’s still an old fashioned Lupin caper. But what this does offer is a feminine (for the era in which the original manga and shows thrived) take on these characters, which is very refreshing!

(Oh what I meant about the bike remark, is that Yamamoto has clearly been a fan for a long time, which informed Michiko in her own series. Much like how Lupin and Jigen informed Spike, Jet, and Faye for Cowboy Bebop.The DNA never strays far..)

ElectricV01: Yeah, those opening credits are unique.  I’m not sure I’ve seen anything like them in recent memory.  And this first episode is an old fashioned Lupin caper like you said, and I think that’s why I love it so much.  It feels new yet familiar at the same time.  I really can’t think of anything I didn’t like about it.  Great style, great voice acting, great music, great everything.  A+ in my book.

Sex is Not a Dirty Word: or, Why The Woman Called Fujiko Mine is a Great Feminist Anime

The Woman Called Fujiko Mine is both the most nudity-heavy and one of the most thoughtfully feminist anime I have ever seen. It is a damn well made piece of art from one of the most promising up and coming directors in anime, and I’ve documented my love for it fairly extensively in the past (it plays, indeed, no small part in my blog’s creation).

But all that perhaps intimidating gushing aside, it occurs to me that I’ve never really written about the show with a prospective rather than an informed viewer in mind. And while a truly in-depth discussion of the show basically requires discussion of the ending and spoilers generally, I think I can still paint a picture for curious-but-nervous viewers as to why this show is well worth your investment.

A quick summary: Fujiko is a thief, a seductress, and a woman of many mysteries. On one job she crosses paths with famed gentleman thief Arsene Lupin III, setting off a chain of events involving an underground drug cult; strange, spying figures with owl heads, long buried memories, and the men who will one day become her partners in crime. But who is Fujiko Mine…and just who is telling this story, anyhow?

There is a lot of nudity in TWCFM – at least one scene per episode shows us the protagonist nude, sometimes in scenes that seem included purely to have some onscreen boobs. It turns a lot of people off, to the point where a fair number of (predominantly male, by my count) reviewers as the show was airing actually criticized it for having too much female nudity, for being cheap or exploitative of its lead. That’s for each individual viewer to decide at the end of the day, but let’s remember that context is everything: the POV, tone, and framing of sexuality can bring it wildly different meaning upon inspection even if it looks problematic on the surface.

The one of the thorniest issues in examining portrayals of female sexuality is how the scene is portrayed, as enunciated quite well in this comic. A Strong Female Character wearing a brass bustier and blowing things up is not inherently feminist any more than a shy ingénue is anti-feminist, and puzzling out where the lines are is all in how much power the character is given in the scene: are they aware of their own sexuality or choosing to exercise it in the given situation, is the camera objectifying regardless of whether the scene is explicitly intimate (the difference, in other words, between focusing on a woman’s breasts because she’s consciously drawing attention to them and, say, having a warrior splattered with goo in battle and framing it to look like a cum shot), does the character have dimension outside of their sexuality, etc. Hazy stuff in the abstract, I know, so let’s go through some examples.



The moments of greatest focus on Fujiko’s body – i.e. when the camera pans across her or focuses in in what would be considered a typically male-gazey way – are largely centered in the first couple of episodes. The first as an establishing character moment for Lupin, since being compromised by his lust is often what gives Fujiko the upper hand on him. The second is when Fujiko has been explicitly accused of being a seductress and little else, and seems to prove that accusation right (it’s worth noting that her breasts are comically oversized in this scene, noticeably so compared to the rest of the series).

This scene is twofold in importance: both because Fujiko is playing on what is expected of her as a woman in the story context (while also proving herself adept as a thief, killer, and manipulator), and because the series itself is using a character with a very long history where indeed eye candy and betrayal were her only points of interest (the amount to which this was true varying based on author – running a spectrum from a young Hayao Miyazaki all the way down to some stuff that would make Frank Miller proud). By addressing that perspective in the show’s pilot, the script can then move beyond it. Both the scenes of Fujiko acting as a harem dancer and as a stripper (in the second episode) were explicit cases of Fujiko performing in order to gain an advantage over her chosen mark – and accordingly, the camera focuses on the places where she herself draws attention (and the costume design goes one step beyond, giving Fujiko a wardrobe that’s fashionable but practical when seduction isn’t her immediate tactic or cover).

These stand-out “cheesecake” scenes are all orchestrated by our lead, and all take care to give her power and agency in how and why she displays her body. In fact, the cinematography goes out of its way to make the viewer uncomfortable in the few moments where Fujiko loses the upper hand or has been exposed against her will: her body is cast in shadow when her clothes are taken in the opening of “.357 Magnum,” while her skin is colored in a pale, almost deathly cast during her most vulnerable point in “Prison of Love.”

And the longer the show goes on, the more it begins to divorce the concept of nudity from an inherently sexual context. I mentioned above that the show seems to have a “boobs per episode” quota, to the point of seeming like self-parody. But while the early going is dominated by those moments of seduction, later on we simply see Fujiko in mid and wide shots while she happens to have no clothes on, sitting in the bath or sleeping naked, existing as a woman who has the power both to choose when to be sexual and when she simply wishes to exist in her own skin without shame. Even further, the script uses straightlaced samurai Goemon’s crush on Fujiko to question the myth of the “pure” woman and his struggle to reconcile the Nice Young Woman he thought he met with the sexually confident woman he’s later confronted with.

And speaking of sex scenes, the show has (sort of) two. And it takes advantage of both to paint wildly oppositional pictures of male- versus female-focused pleasure: the latter occurs entirely in abstracted silhouette, with writhing shapes that could belong to anyone (including a manga-homage of representing the penis as the male gender symbol) and a deliberately sleazy audio track with overplayed female moans; the latter is backed by a breathy jazz number and focuses entirely on the intimacy/foreplay element, forgoing nudity entirely in favor of hands entwining and soft communication. Both scenes are false in different ways, but each prove their execution to be rooted in both individual context, character desire, and smarter commentary on the part of the director (and if there’s one thing I cannot emphasize enough, it’s how much Sayo Yamamoto’s work bears watching).


One of the primary criticisms of the inclusion of sex in fiction is that it’s done thoughtlessly, or could be excised from the narrative to no great effect, but here is a series that seeks to embrace the roots of its character while also centering her in a story where her sexual confidence would feel justified and necessary. But equally important, the story expends an equal focus in not holding every other female character to the same worldview as Fujiko. The women Fujiko meets cover a range of personality, appearance, and goals (albeit within the limitations of the show being a 1960s period piece), and the show further passes both the Bechdel and Sexy Lamp tests with ease.

Last and most vaguely, given its proximity to those spoilers I was talking about, is the series’ overall focus on narrative. The opening moments tell the viewer that they are watching a story being told, and from there it presses forward in asking increasingly difficult questions. Whose stories do we tell, and how are those stories shaped? How, particularly, are women’s stories overshadowed, shout over, and outright stolen? And how does one go about taking that power back?

Any recommendation of this show comes, by needs, with a certain amount of warning, as it delves into topics of torture, mental illness, and child abuse (though the show earns them all by context and never truly feels gratuitous) alongside its very frank sexuality. But for those who feel up to the material, it is both a gorgeous and unforgettable viewing experience. The show is available on Hulu.
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Vrai is a queer author and pop culture blogger; they are required to write about a certain gentleman thief at regular intervals lest the hives start again. You can read more essays and find out about their fiction at Fashionable Tinfoil Accessories, or remind them of the existence of Tweets.