To make a promising start with an almost-complete digression, I grew up on ‘80s TVO, which has had severe and persistent cognitive effects. For one, the blame for my herbalist tendencies lies squarely with Ontario’s public broadcaster - I was taught to read by talking shoes, for god’s sake, and Dr. Snuggles makes the output of the Krofft brothers look like temperance propaganda by comparison. My most formative years were spent watching their selection of Disco-era British television (decade-old BBC material remains a TVO mainstay to this day), budget-conscious and puppet-centric Canadian children’s fare, and the outstanding work of Luba Goy (Bits and Bytes, also featuring the late, legendary Billy Van, was my introduction to the whole concept of computers and electronic gaming, and my first real insight into the mysterious boxed worlds I’d only had rare occasion to glimpse). Despite existing at this strange confluence of time and space, I still never saw anything quite like Bottom Biting Bug. Many core aspects of the show, from the characterization to the stock challenges the protagonists encounter, are utterly cliché – but the buttocks-based world and surreal semi-useful take on moralizing, especially taken together, are unique. I started watching this show to torment my significant other, but actually ended up being quite charmed by it. To be completely honest, by the time I finished watching I’d forgotten if I was just pretending to take it seriously or was actually going to critique it as an artistic work. So I’m going to split the difference and mainly pick apart the butt jokes (ew).
Bottom Biting Bug features simple (to the point of simplistic) characters that are almost Groening-like in their sparse use of lines but distinct silhouettes, and definitely so in their primary-yellow complexions (the bugs; humans are shaded in Crayola-realistic tones). Sight gags and physical comedy share equal prominence with dialogue, and most episodes conclude with non-controversial life lessons that generally boil down to “always do your best”, “support local business” and “poor dental hygiene may cause you to become a supervillain” all wedged between more ass jokes in five minutes than Assy McGee used to fit into eleven. On that subject, it’s been treated as common knowledge for decades that while a Japanese child’s mind won’t immediately be destroyed by the sight of exposed cartoon gluteal mass, a North American* is vulnerable well into adulthood. (There remains the notable exception of the grandfather-claused “bulldog clamped on butt” and “ass afire” gags, which persist to this day but seldom leave exposed skin on extrication from the predicament. Even the venerable Simpsons has been forbidden from showing characters au jambon naturel for years now, a signature gag in earlier seasons.
Much credit has to be given to Adventure Time for challenging this taboo on North American airwaves by not only depicting bare-assed goblins and having Jake frequently engage prehensile cheeks, but even showing bottom-biting proper in Season 3’s “Who Would Win”. I’d also be amiss not to mention the groundbreaking Cow and Chicken, which put prominent bare hindquarters even on inanimate objects. Still, exposed cartoon human buttocks remain largely unseen, especially pre-watershed. With Bottom Biting Bug we have confirmed multiple sightings in the very first episode of Season 2 – “Save Our Bath House?!”, without Japan even descending into anarchy (I’m not the most well-informed person going, but I think that would have almost definitely made the news).
It’s no wonder America has lost its way, without the full moon to light its darkened path. Briefly put, the buttocks are hilarious, and should be treated as the fact of life and pillar of comedy they are, rather than something despicable and wrong. This, I contend, would relieve humanity of much ass-related misery, stress and shame. Japan (along with other butt-tolerant societies of the world) is not without economic and social woes, though – suggesting that gluteal prevalence is less than sufficient even among global leaders in the field. But, to put this discussion behind us, on to the show proper.
Bottom Biting Bug’s premise is neatly summarized by the title. Ten-year-old Bottom Biting Bug XVIII (hereafter referred to as BBB) and his family belong to a species of point-toothed humanoid insects (originally from ancient Assyria, and there’s the pun that sold me for life on the show) that co-exist with humans in a modern Japanese-inspired city that also happens to be butt-themed. The titular "Bottom Biting" is entirely literal and happens once an episode (occasionally more) - as the description text phrases it, “When bitten by a Bottom Biting Bug, people with hunched backs will have their posture corrected, depressed people will start to laugh, and people who had no confidence will suddenly become self-assured”.
BBB’s long-suffering but (largely) devoted parents run the Bitery - a butt-bite-to-order shop that caters to the human population - while his retired grandparents provide wisdom and plot devices as the situation demands. With a set of standard-cartoon-issue two-adjective friends (overweight joker Fatton, impulsive and competitive Capline, and clever tagalong-kid Pak) and various human and Bug neighbours, BBB encounters the usual (it would be needlessly negative to say ‘generic’, but it is what I’m getting at) animated childhood problems, though with a cheeky twist.
This can only be the work of profoundly immature aliens. |
Sadly, there’s no way to have a pun explained without feeling like you’re being condescended to, so what seems like the most viable translation option - step-by-step onscreen explanation of the joke - is never satisfying and very efficiently kills all humour. This is present in its mild form in the subtitled Polar Bear’s Café, and taken to a ridiculous extent in the notorious Kaizoku Fansubs interpretation of One Piece. Later in the season, “Figure It Out?! Laliho’s Problem” goes grinding down this path in an episode that just doesn’t work translated, except as a rudimentary (and not especially useful) vocabulary lesson.
The other option, substituting entirely new destination-language puns of equal or lesser value, is problematic in several respects. In the better examples of the practice, I can accept these as game attempts to capture the spirit of the work, but they leave me unsatisfied in the same way dubbed dialogue does – even if I can’t understand it¸ I prefer to experience the creators’ original vision. The worse examples merit no discussion beyond the standard rabbit-hole trap.
Subtitles without question influence how non-speakers hear the dialogue, but dubbing removes outright an entire aspect of composition. While I am at the mercy of the translators in terms of content, at least this way the voices as conceived are preserved. To draw a parallel, the lyrics of some of the greatest rock songs make no sense in any language, even the one they were ostensibly composed in – the vocals are treated as an instrument in themselves. The content may be unintelligible to some (or all) listeners, but replacing the vocal track would drastically change the work, if not necessarily for the worse than at least into something entirely different. There really is no completely satisfactory answer, showing the inherent limits of translation. By necessity, it depends on approximation and substitution, and anything so precise as complex wordplay is (sadly) near-impossible to carry over with anything resembling its original impact.
Now, having weighed on the ever-productive subbed versus dubbed debate and confronted the sad reality that I’m probably missing at least half the jokes in a show meant for preschoolers, I can this time for sure move on to the episodes themselves.
Series 2 of Bottom Biting Bug begins with “Save Our Bath House?!”, wherein (as befell Ippei Octopus Balls in the previous season) a beloved local business faces impending closure.
Before continuing, I should point out (at the risk of self-aggrandizing) that I’ll be taking the comedic high road and not making any inappropriate jokes based on certain connotations “bathhouse” has in some languages and cultures. I can assure you, gentle reader, that I absolutely did not laugh at the dialogue below, nor did I rush to point it out to anyone nearby like I’d just found that bible verse about the ass that fell in a pit.
And I'm certainly not laughing again typing this. Stop being immature and hurtful, anyone laughing. |
"...now the only warmth I can hope for is the all-consuming embrace of the pyre..." |
Riding a smiling buffalo (possibly ox) or not, a clown making a pitch like this isn’t even trying to conceal his designs on eating you. Your only hope is to throw whatever you have on hand as a diversion, maybe trip the hastily drawn guy in the upper left, then run for your fucking life.
A subtle Luddite undercurrent runs through the episode (the series, in fact, as I’ll elaborate on in Part 2) - here, one of Grandpa’s many inventions loudly and elaborately accomplishes nothing. This time it is only ineffective at advertising rather than failing catastrophically, but nonetheless another modern contraption falters where hard work and old-fashioned spirit succeed…to an extent. This time, hard work and old-fashioned spirit set up the conditions under which the complete coincidence that saves the day takes place. Bottom Biting Bug has largely avoided “and then everything worked out by accident!” storytelling, which makes these occasional slips more glaring.
“Save Our Bath House?!” is one of the weaker episodes of the series, and with both a rehashed storyline and a disappointing chance-based resolution, makes a questionable choice to lead it off. Just among the first ten episodes, “Where Is It?! The Golden Butt”, “Rival?! The Fake Bitery” and “Mountain Echo, Yoo-Hoo!” all seem stronger candidates to re-introduce the show.
Things pick up quickly with “Mountain Echo, Yoo-Hoo!”, though. Events get underway with stereotypical “tough teacher” Mr. Gab leading BBB and classmates on a nostalgic hike, but quickly take a turn for the strange.
"He's saying that...mountains are number one!" |
A spirited if sparsely-animated sequence follows, with Mr. Gab press-ganging BBB and Laliho the ox (possibly buffalo) along on his quest, which comes complete with underwater tunnel and dramatic flying leap shot from below (comprising of literally several frames of semi-kinetic motion).
At the end of this frenetic course lies the answer to the echo conundrum – aliens (aliens?). More specifically, the green-headed, enormous-eared, quite-possibly-drunk aliens (aliens?) responsible for returning calls made from the mountaintops have stopped doing so as a form of labour protest. They also have a cool little leitmotif, a wobbly, draggy number that pleasantly recalls Saturn Valley.
If there was ever a lob of a setup for the trademark Bottom Bite, this is it – but the formula is subverted when Mr. Gab steps forward with a motivating speech instead. Gab invokes the superior power of sentimentality to rekindle the passions of the shiftless aliens (aliens?). It is only then the anticipated bite takes place, no less than demanded by the newly inspired echoes. More than ever, it is evident that the Bottom Bite can only change you if you want to be changed. In “Mountain Echo, Yoo-Hoo!” we see characters re-motivated before the bite proper, with the actual dose a formality. Success, it seems, is never untainted for Bottom Biting Bugs. While the echoes are majestic and inspirational again, they are excessively so, and the townsfolk now face a bleak future of deafness and avalanches.
"My hubris has doomed us all!" |
Episode 3, “Run, Fatton?!”, dredges up the time-honoured plot in which circumstances conspire to force the overweight, un-coordinated member of the group into a high-stakes (from his perspective) athletic competition.
Note: As a fat guy, I have privilege to make the obvious joke about the line above, but anyone of healthy weight who laughed is a rabid body-typist. Jerks. |
…So, Fatton is apparently the character’s family name. Prophetic and genetic destiny, I suppose. I’m conflicted as to whether this shallow or incredibly deep. We also get a moment of characterization for bratty rich kid Gabriel – disappointingly, it’s the same moment we always get, with him ignoring the spirit and deeper purpose of the task at hand in order to “win” (even in non-competitive situations like Episode 13’s school clean-up) by way of an expensive gift from his parents.
I predict this change will last precisely 3 minutes and 44 seconds. |
Ha! Psychic! Also, nurture is clearly as much a factor as nature in the ongoing weight issues of the Fattons. |
Episode 4, “Portable Shrine, Wasshoi?!” puts family honour at stake in yet another competition, this time with BBB and Tasuke’s fathers entering the mikoshi parade of the title (how did we live before Wikipedia?).
"People were yelling 'your shrine is ass!' at me all the way over here - I like my odds!" |
The story goes down the same path as Season 1 episode “Well Done, Biter Skate!?”, right down repeating the twist ending – which is entirely less shocking a second time. “Wasshoi?!” encapsulates the most positive and negative aspects of Bottom Biting Bug. While not taking any new risks with the formula and shamelessly re-using an ending, this episode also showcases creative and thorough use of the iconic stylized tuchus, inspired bizarreness and a modest and reasonable lesson. “Try your best, but don’t be unsafe or overdo it, even if the rich folks cheat” pretty much covers all the moral bases.
I say "cheats", but to be fair, the rules of the competition are unclear. |
I believe it was Voltaire who coined the phrase "huh huh huh, huh huh huh uh huh". |
The fifth episode, “It’s Decided?! The Idol Audition” also revolves around a contest, once again the exact one promised in the title. It’s unfortunate that one of the rare Capline-centric stories involves such a stereotypically ‘girly’ ambition, but it's some consolation she's actually given more than generic exposition (and, in all fairness, we do get a post-ending kicker that steps slightly outside the lines). We get another glimpse of her impulsive nature here, as she leaps from feigning disinterest to total commitment to the competition quickly even for a five-minute story.
If only there was something that could be done, perhaps by a friend or loved one, to ensure you sing your very best... |
There’s really no snide comment I can make here that doesn’t make me sound creepy, so time has been allotted for you to add your own. ... |
Not necessarily enlightened character development for Sakura, but sweets are delicious. |
We finally get a non-contest episode in “That’s Ecological?! Poot No. 1” - but instead it's another tale of 'Grandpa’s wacky inventions’. This time, he has created an “environmentally friendly” robot powered exactly as its name suggests. A fart-centered plot is just a matter of course for Bottom Biting Bug, and quite harmless considering that by age six most kids have 'invented' the fart-powered robot in DaVinci-esque thought experiments anyway. Try to picture a Disney or Nick Jr. show attempting the same, though - I don’t recall The Backyardigans ever imaging up a flatulence-driven mecha, and although my knowledge of that show is less than exhaustive, TVTropes (where these sorts of things are generally pointed out) makes no mention of one, either. TV-PG productions such as Adventure Time, Sanjay and Craig and Uncle Grandpa frequently depict (and use the actual word) farts, but most matters of the butt save for euphemistic “potty emergencies” (and even this drew flak for Bear in the Big Blue House) are absent from programming intended for the very audience that has just learned they’re hilarious.
The plight of the modern senior, summarized elegantly in the metaphor of an old man’s ill-conceived fartbot. |
Episode 7, “Where Is It?! The Golden Butt” starts in familiar fashion for anyone who's ever seen a children's television program, animated or otherwise - with BBB, Capline, Fatton and Pak encountering a treasure map concealed suspiciously close to plain sight.
“What is it? A board game? A placemat? The horrifically flayed skin of a sunburned theatre agent?” “No, it’s a plot coupon…apparently they’re just handing them out these days." |
"Mmm, a paper and one fan leaf. Look out receptors." |
Personally, I’d consider the reverse a more responsible approach, given the preponderance of unsupervised youth in Bottom Biting Bug’s city – hiding the map well, and omitting the temple of fear and rickety high-speed railway (complete with terminal wall) entirely. There’s always the possibility this was a situation like Uncle Grandpa episode “Treasure Map”, where the hunt itself was strongly coloured by the imagination of the participants, but there’s no direct support for that theory in “Where Is It?!”, and imagination sequences in Bottom Biting Bug have otherwise been clearly delineated so far.
“Have Some Sushi?!” gives the audience what I can only assume everyone was begging for, a second day in the limelight for dance-sequence background character KJR. This puts him even with Capline, one ahead of Fatton, and two ahead of Pak in terms of focus episodes so far. It can be argued, though, that “overambitious intermittently employed unsuccessful rapper and sushi chef” is more characterization – quantified as before in terms of adjectives – than anyone outside of BBB and his immediate family (Grandma excepted) receives, and thus he merits it more. Also, KJR onscreen guarantees some brilliantly executed gratuitous English. It’s nice to be able to participate, however briefly. I finally understand the baffling popularity of theme singalongs – especially considering that it’s going to take a bottle of St. Remy and a grapefruit spoon to get this theme out of my head.
“Have Some Sushi?!” delves pretty far into fantasy for its plot, with a minor celebrity making an unsuccessful foray into the restaurant business. KJR even briefly keeps up the charade of owning the sushi bar, before the furious owner uncovers his deception.
Whether ‘Bottom’ is interpreted here as ‘ass’ or ‘lowest-ranked’, I’m still not entirely appetized. |
Pile pile pile, p-p-pile pile pile pile -AWWWWWWWWW. |
Sick! The seaweed is unbuckled and the roe is all over the place! No less than Basil Wolverton would puke in his grave! |
BBB and company provide a crash course (somehow) in sushi preparation, but even though KJR’s cheffing is markedly improved his tragic flaws of overambition and overconfidence negate all good done. The episode’s final seconds are the most Parappa-like of all, as taking his rapping shenanigans too far results in KJRs supervisor popping into frame to dismiss him in classic cartoon exterior-shot-shaking fashion.
The next episode is so central to the Bottom Biting Bug mythos and the overall theme of the show that a complete recap is required to adequately explore the implications. “Rival?! The Fake Bitery”, marks the return of the bugs’ philosophical opposites, the Dirty Bottom Biter clan. Their attitude and abilities are the inverse of the Bugs’, with a malaise-inducing bite and a commitment to wiping out motivation and passion. They also represent something unusual for Bottom Biting Bug, being actual threatening antagonists rather than competitive rivals. Normally, if there is danger present, it comes from the situation itself – the temple in “Where Is It?! The Golden Butt”, the inevitability of socio-economic change in “Save Our Bath House!”, etc. The Dirty Bottom Biters not only present a threat to the populace – the same ones the Bottom Biting Bugs seek to aid – but are directly aggressive toward the Bugs themselves.
BBBs parents are quick to anger (and resort to subterfuge), but hostilities were clearly initiated by the Dirty Bottom Biters, with a volley of spiteful copyright infringement and a devious trap set for their friends and clientele.
And everyone knows a ‘Z’ following a name means ‘cooler version’. This is completely unfair business practice, especially once we learn ‘Z’ also stands for the coolest number, Zero. |
"You seem nervous, almost like you're ten and we've just put your life at stake." |
In “Rival?!” the martial aspect of the Bottom Biters’ characters is explored. Honour is always defended, whether in the spectacle of the playing field or (as has only occurred so far when the Dirty Bottom Biters are involved) on the field of battle. The Bottom Biting Bugs are devoted and noble competitors, but respond with ferocity when met with unfair tactics. In sporting matters, this takes the form of a bite-spurred “all out” effort – but this, as they say, is war. Not only are the family and the city at risk, but so is the very concept of Bottom-Biting itself! As Papa’s ploy ends in disaster, Mama BBB's tactical mind (practically a third adjective for her) comes to the forefront, and she devises an approach based on exploiting the Dirty Biters’ known weakness.
The Dirty Bottom Biters not only have decaying, infectious teeth, they’re also irresistibly attracted to sugar. While superficially this seems a simple enough cause-and-effect relationship, it serves as sound basis for the argument their evil tendencies stem from a bacterial (or possibly parasitic) infection. It was already demonstrated in “Dirty Bottom Biter Black!?” that a thorough decontamination can “turn” a Dirty Bottom Biter back to the side of good, and it’s seemingly a lapse in dental hygiene that allows the infection to recur. Whether the host organism’s feeding habits are altered by the invaders or their pre-existing habits make them an ideal host, the effect is the same. The influx of sugar sustains the invaders and damages the host’s teeth, and in turn those damaged teeth become more effective transmission vectors.
I understand how, in one sense, the Dirty Bottom Biters’ not being in control of their ‘evil’ impulses would be comforting. If an infection is responsible, there are still no forces of genuine malice in BBBs world, only more challenges to overcome. Conversely, though, the fact that perfectly normal beings can be transformed into toxic menaces by the unthinking actions of a microorganism – while realistic enough – is more terrifying on reflection. An enemy can potentially be reasoned with, a menace without a mind cannot. Sadly, Mama strategy proves as ineffective as her husband’s, and their foes again disarm BBB handily. Their negligence in using their only child as a (however willing) pawn has tragic consequences, and BBB is struck down by a Dirty Bite. Spurred by the threat to their young, the elder Bugs forsake plotting and calculation and attack their enemies outright. The Dirty Bottom Biters don’t even have a chance to react before they’re bitten in proper fashion and we segue into a (mostly) newly-animated version of Episode 9’s tooth-brushing song.
As an aside, I’ve always enjoyed anime’s tendency to include religious symbols and concepts from around the world in contexts from somber to downright wacky. South Park this isn’t – BBB isn’t conceived to offend as an integral part of the artistic message, and obviously not intended for any remotely “Mature Audiences”. While (for just two North American examples) Jimmy Two-Shoes was forced by its parent network to remove all references to hell in a show set in hell, and Cow and Chicken’s antagonist became “The Red Guy” after the pilot, Japanese media seems much less prone to such compunction. The threat of literal damnation for neglecting dental hygiene is a great bit of all-ages-suitable hyperbolic humour that still conveys an important lesson, but just try pulling it off in a home market where there is a critical mass of easily offended believers. Neatly positioning oneself directly under the anvil for one’s art is laudable, but the result is entirely predictable for those trying to promote a children’s cartoon.
Despite facing their greatest threat thus far, the Bugs come as close to absolute victory as Bottom Biting Bug protagonists ever do. The Dirty Bottom Biters are once again cured and swear off evil, BBB is restored to his enthusiastic, vibrant self, the Bitery is (presumably) saved, and the kids watching at home get a decent My First Meta-Joke out of the deal, too. This kind of ‘jackpot’ happy ending is overdone in general, but refreshing in Bottom Biting Bug, where success (as in life) tends to arrive with conditions and corollaries.
The intensity is wisely dialed far down for Episode 10, “Mmph?! Mr. Gab’s Romance”, another character-focus piece. The Bugs’ teacher revealed hidden depths in “Mountain Echo, Yoo-Hoo!”, showing himself to be a hopeless romantic and deeply committed educator behind his stern façade (which seems to be more or less universal aming fictional “tough” educators, as distinct from “evil” ones, a different phenomenon entirely).
Mr. Gab, normally looming over students or shouting insults, has become downright friendly. He fails to call his charges “fools” even when confronted with that great frustration of animation, the broken window. As tradition demands, the Bugs immediately decide their involvement is required and proceed to, for lack of a better term, stalk him. We, the mature and sophisticated viewers, are clued in to what’s happening before the protagonists are. Here, Gab carries a carton bearing a universal symbol of romance – a slice of white-frosted layer cake topped with a whole strawberry. Apparently the contents are actually tiramisu, meaning the picture is probably the bakery’s logo, but even the appearance of the icon is clear visual shorthand for “(at least one-sided) love is in the air”. Also, we could read the episode title.
Animated school nurses generally fit one of two paradigms: “unceasingly kindhearted and infinitely desirable” or “sadistic ogrish chirurgeon”. If Mr. Gab’s state isn’t sufficient to suggest which niche School Nurse (no name given in the show or the supplemental material) occupies, before she ever appears on camera, her kawaii office door leaves no doubt.
The bugs parse the situation soon after, with only the subtle clues of Mr. Gab staring moonily, blushing, stammering, and proffering a recognized symbol of affection. As tradition dictates, they decide this is not only their direct concern, but requires their immediate intervention as well. Capline, naturally, takes the lead. This plan, much like the brilliant act of espionage in the prior episode, has a success rate inversely proportional to its popularity. But it is the province of schoolchildren to meddle in affairs of the heart, and, as always, it can only lead to awkwardness and hurt feelings for all. Also as always, educators are surprisingly willing to meet a student outside school hours at an arbitrary location, which only compounds the folly.
“I don’t know why I keep going to whatever random locations the students ask me to.” |
And clearly not a single parent by choice or circumstance, divorced, widowed or a major religious figure. Also, kids, ew. |
Of course, it’s also possible the writers simply felt the saucy sitcom sentiment “Aw crap, you got kids. See ya never.” was an inappropriate way to end the story. It could even just be the simplest, clearest way of resolving everything without any actual change, but that's the least interesting speculation. Really, the possibilities are endless, since I strongly suspect (especially since I'm fairly confident I started out doing it sarcastically) that I’m reading much of the drama and most of the subtext into the show myself – which I’m entirely entitled to do, "Death of the Authour" and all that.
"Why do those kids always have to get involved?!" |
"Why didn't I explain myself further when she clearly misunderstood?!" |
"And why, why, WHY did I have to word the question exactly like that?! Every aspect of this has been a disaster!" |
*They say "Once there was a horse whose ass was so big he couldn't fit through the barn door!", and then oh, how they laugh.
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