On occasion, an anime arrives that knocks you off your feet. Huffing and puffing, you attempt to piece together what happened. You were watching Linebarrels of Iron, a teen drama from Gonzo that's about strength and perseverance and women's underwear. Slowly your eyes regain focus. Nothing else would appear to have caused your unfortunate spill. There's an awful lot of cleavage in this show, isn't there? Wait, there's more: wimpy male lead, busty childhood friend, naked alien girl, nosebleeds, bodacious racks (except the loli), giant robots...you fell for this? It couldn't have been the heavy drinking....

Linebarrels of Iron features middle-school wuss Koichi Hayase, who gets bullied a lot when his friends aren't around. None of this matters, because a giant robot enters the atmosphere from wherever and lands right on top of him. Unfortunately, the show neither ends right there nor chooses a more suitable main character. They decide to [revive and] man this one up, by pairing him with the robot that killed him. He doesn't need any talent, because he has something much better: corporate backing!

The writing and characterization in this show is lazy. The newly empowered Koichi is predictably arrogant and foolhardy, until circumstances take the wind out of his sails. He fancies himself a champion of justice, which in his mind means destroying all other robots, without regard to collateral damage. His busty childhood friend is, of course, in love with him. He's too busy ogling the girl who came from outer space with the robot because, of course, she was naked and has bigger boobs. The others fit familiar tropes: a loli, a maternal slightly-older woman, the reserved girl who acts like a rival but really isn't, and so on — disposable characters that exist for the sole purpose of showing our hero the true meaning of justice, while seeing to his teen-male needs.

The weird thing is: I sort of like it, not so much in a "I can't wait to see more" sense, as a "I don't hate this and don't mind watching" sense. Not every show has to be profound or even meaningful to be watchable. In fact the series itself is much like an average teen boy: desperate for something to do, something which might distinguish it, when the tools at its disposal are all ordinary, run-of-the-mill things that don't add up to anything special. So in a hail-mary move it shouts, "look at me!," and combines the tools haphazardly to perform a dazzling feat of mediocrity, and we think, "Such energy. I'm too tired to argue."

The series has a couple things going for it, the first being character designs by Hisashi Hirai (Gundam Seed, Infinite Ryvius), who also serves as animation director. His work is always pleasant to look at. Also, the relatively uninspired opening theme ("Kitei no Tsurugi," Ali Project) is made up for, and then some, by the fantastic closing theme ("Ame ga Furu," Maaya Sakamoto). I'm not exaggerating when I say that the ending theme is a large part of why I'm okay with continuing this show. It cleanses all evil that precedes it. Even more so starting with episode 14, where the ending theme changes to "Remedy" (also Maaya Sakamoto). Remedy is Maaya at her absolute best, and easily makes my short list of her top tunes.

Hirai's Gundam experience appears to influence how Linebarrels wraps up. Every show for boys needs that epic showdown that decides the fate of the planet, but the show also employs the Gundam-esque tack of "let's combine all the cool people, ignore that they bitterly fought each other earlier, and rally for justice!" You know how the rest goes. The True Evil emerges from the depths of wherever, and somehow our idiotic, average-in-every-way hero is the only one capable of defeating it. The show even attempts a bit of self-deprecating humor on that score, with horrific results. Notwithstanding the failed humor, the fact that the show never ventures out of its comfort zone is probably a good thing. The final battle has an appropriate charge to it, and the series wraps up in a clean, albeit safe manner. Nothing ventured, nothing gained (or lost).

I'd say it's safe to skip this show. For those having a mild interest, plenty of anime out there are more worthy of a fan's shelf space, so definitely try before you buy. On the other hand, don't hesitate to buy the album Kazeyomi from Maaya Sakamoto, which features the two ending themes from this series and several other excellent songs.

(Thanks to Funimation for the review copy of part 1: episodes 1-12. The second-half viewing was courtesy Crunchyroll.)