Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re checking out something a bit different from my usual fare, as we screen Round 1 of Alien Stage, which to my understanding is a somewhat mixed-media but largely music video-driven narrative project centered around human singers being forced to compete for the entertainment of their alien overlords. These music videos are presumably then framed as stages within this competition, with each apparently offering insight into both its singer and the dystopian world they inhabit.
That all sounds pretty fun to me, and frankly probably something I’d be into myself if I’d grown up with Youtube already in full stride. I am a huge fan of the music video as an art form, enjoyed plenty of anime music videos as a teen, and am in general a sucker for emotional narratives conveyed through song. My list of favorite records leans heavily towards narrative-heavy concept albums – The Meadowlands, Hospice, Offerings, The Sunset Tree, and many more of my favorites are in part beloved because they rise beyond the confines of any given song, lending the emotional weight of a full dramatic arc to their final moments. Alien Stage seems intended to scratch exactly that sort of itch, so let’s see what this first round is all about!
Round 1
“Oh my Clematis, hope bloomed from the abyss.” We open with a green-haired singer offering a classic symbol of fragile hope surviving: a flower surviving in “the abyss,” a gentle life emerging in harshest circumstances
She is joined by a pink-haired singer who echoes her words, asking to “always stay by her side.” Efficient visual storytelling here – as we jump from the two of them as children facing a bright blue sky to adults facing an apparent void, the implication is clear that they have been each other’s hope through a violent coming of age
“You bloomed from the huge black wall.” Presumably this wall is the society or alien force they are facing
Interesting animation style here, clearly built from the practical realities of indie animation. There’s no real pose-to-pose fluidity, but the individual drawings are expressive and have a nice variability in their form, embracing more exaggerated mouth shapes in spite of their static transitions. The effect ensures every individual image looks appealing, a priority further bolstered through the sturdy digital composite, which naturally weaves lighting effects into the background, bridging the visual distance between these effects and the traditionally drawn characters through a heavy glow overlay uniting them
“The galactic starlight in your eyes spreads out in the endless darkness.” Again, imagery conveys each of these two as the other’s light in a harsh world
The stillness works well for these montage cuts, which further emphasize their childhood bond while raising further questions – what is this oddly idyllic world of their childhood, why are they both wearing what appear to be hospital gowns, why is this fish swimming in the river a machine?
It’s an interesting phenomenon – stories that are explicitly designed to invite audience participation, to sort of offer “prompts” that fans can take in their own directions. It’s a phenomenon that’s both uniquely facilitated by the internet and also a reflection of narrative trends that existed prior to the preeminence of the novel and “grand narratives,” when folk tales with no clear “official version” inspired endless permutations based on personal circumstances. Here, the very imprecision of the allusions to the world being taken over and this performance system being integrated seems purposeful – going beyond the “media mix ecosystem” that encouraged fans to engage with whatever aspect of a property most appealed to them, this seems to be encouraging fans to actively create art and fiction that fills in the gaps, that exists in the spaces between these firm yet ambiguously correlated touchstones. A sort of deliberate deprioritizing of authorship
An overlay announces this as “Round 1” at last, with these two directly competing. Another classic beat that requires little further explanation, but which invites plentiful speculation: these two apparent soulmates being forced to compete in a venue where one must be held over the other, and doing so through a shared pledge of love
“Once upon a time, mankind believed in God and had religion.” Our narrator frames the alien invasion as essentially the final confirmation of God’s nonexistence. Global youth culture has trended increasingly secular at a rapid pace, particularly within these often explicitly queer enthusiast spaces. Without the siloes of local culture dictating our imaginative horizons, local gods have a tough time declaring their preeminence – and as communal religious spaces have become less central to our lives, new objects of preoccupation, community, or even worship have risen to fill the gap. It does feel like most people need to believe in something, and as religion has failed to make a compelling case for the upcoming generations, new forms of community and social organizing have replaced it. I think we might have done a better job of countering the rise of reactionary fascism in fan spaces if we’d understood it as a religion from the start
“Believed that the entire universe revolved around the earth.” Our art speaks to our cultural anxieties, and increasingly that means acknowledging we live in a societal formation that is actively hostile to our existence. Whether it’s the flight from this order of isekai or the roaring rebellion of Chainsaw Man, there is no faith that some overseeing “good guys” will ever make things right, and an increasing certainty that our political and economic overseers are like these aliens making us dance on strings
“From the moment humanity left the universe, we all forgot God.”
“My God, my universe.” With no greater power to call out to, we rely on each other. This sequence of cuts makes clear that her friend is her universe
We at last get a clear shot of all the strange creatures in the audience. Aside from its generally bleak perspective, this production is also clearly casting a harsh eye towards idol culture, seeing an inherent cruelty in artists being forced to compete against each other for the audiences’ approval. This song is a prayer of solidarity, yet it is being employed to decide which of these two dear friends is “worthy”
The violence of this system is made explicit with the song’s conclusion, as one girl falls in a bloody spray, and the other is affixed with her slave collar. A held shot as the crowd roars for blood, clearly finding even more satisfaction in the destruction of these idols than their treasured song
And Done
Whew, that was a nasty little tale! Obviously a four minute narrative covering two life stories and an alien invasion must rely heavily on broad strokes, but the song here did an excellent job of adding some specificity to the bond of our two leads, and the swings at both idol culture specifically and the modern world more generally felt angry and well-aimed. It’s encouraging to see indie animation and these sort of fan-facing collaborative projects speaking with such urgency, offering not just solidarity, but also a clear, pointed authorial perspective. As our own bloodthirsty overlords tighten their grip on human culture, I’d like to imagine their overreach will only prompt more seekers and firestarters to paint the future in brighter colors.
This article was made possible by reader support. Thank you all for all that you do.
