I’ll openly admit, outside of The Castle of Cagliostro, The First, and a smattering of television episodes, I’ve never been all that familiar with Monkey Punch‘s Lupin the Third. I’ve always been Lupin-curious, but nothing much further than that. However, there’s another anime giant that I was sorely ignorant of until very recently: Sayo Yamamoto. Director of modern classics Yuri on Ice and Michiko & Hatchin, Yamamoto is deeply respected within the critical and creative corners of the anime space. These thoughts were on my mind while I was perusing the Discotek booth at Otakon last month, and well, I ended up taking out two birds with one stone. Of course, that stone was Yamamoto’s second directorial effort, Lupin the Third: The Woman Called Fujiko Mine. 

But first, a little history. 

At the time of Fujiko Mine’s premiere in April 2012, it had been twenty-seven years since a proper Lupin television series had hit the airwaves. Following the conclusion of Lupin Part III in 1985, everyone’s favorite gentleman thief had kept his antics exclusive to television specials and feature films. As information around the new series solidified in March 2012, Anime News Network reported that Yamamoto and her team were leaning into the sensual roots of Monkey Punch’s original manga. In a 2018 interview with Anime Feminist’s Caitlin Moore, the director further detailed the origins of the series’ style. 

“We wanted to go back to the style of Monkey Punch that predates volume 1 of the original Lupin graphic novel. When you look at the art style of the animated Lupin that’s common, a lot of that is adapted to be suitable for children. Takeshi Koike’s movie is an exception, but a lot of Lupin, especially the TV specials, are [for the] general audience. If you look at the original Monkey Punch graphic novels, they really are drawn for mature readers. I wanted to go back to the original 60s aesthetic. I collected a lot of issues of Vogue and Elle from the 60s as references for fashion from back then.”

Despite all the reference work she eventually put into the series, Yamamoto didn’t see herself as the right fit for Lupin at first. Some time after Michiko & Hatchin’s conclusion in 2009, Telecom Animation Film’s then-CEO, Yuu Kiyozono, reached out to the director about creating a Lupin series with the same vibe. However, Yamamoto felt that a proper Lupin-led series would’ve been better served by someone who was more passionate about the character. But if the director could spin a yarn around her favorite character, perhaps she had something. 

“My favorite Lupin character is Fujiko Mine. To the point that when I was little I basically used to watch Lupin just to see Fujiko’s sexy scenes (laughs). I thought that if the theme is ‘I want to look at Fujiko for the whole time,’ then I would be able to create that,” Yamamoto said in a May 2017 interview with Japanese anime magazine Febri, translated courtesy of Wave Motion Cannon. 

With Yamamoto onboard the now Fujiko-forward project, she quickly assembled her own band of thieves—including Mari Okada (Anohana, Toradora!) on the scripts, Shinichiro Watanabe (Cowboy Bebop, Samurai Champloo) producing the music, and Takeshi Koike (Redline) lending his character design and animation direction talents. Now while that’s an impressive collection of creatives, it doesn’t mean that Fujiko Mine’s production was smooth sailing. In that same interview with Febri, Yamamoto shared that the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami took a heavy toll on the production—from what could be included in the series to her willpower to storyboard. A personal tragedy that followed soon after the earthquake didn’t help things either.

But through those tough times, Yamamoto and her colleagues accomplished exactly what they set out to do—I couldn’t tear my eyes off Fujiko, even if I wanted to. As soon as Fujiko says “Cease what you are doing and gaze at me” and “New Wuthering Heights” starts playing, the viewer is under her spell. But at the same time, they realize that there’s something off about her, and she freely admits it. In fact, she’s putting up every red flag she can find, but there’s just no resisting her. You can’t look away, and it’s going to be your downfall. 

In my aforementioned experience with Lupin the Third, I’ve noticed that Fujiko’s role in most capers is thrown into one of a handful of categories: the damsel in distress, the femme fatale, the double agent, or simply, the girl. The Woman Called actively mocks and plays these preestablished roles—all of which have been foisted upon her by the men nearby. In fact, Fujiko’s keen on using those notions against anyone who crosses her. In her hands, almost anything is a weapon, even her body. 

Over the course of the show, it’s gradually implied that a series of horrific events molded her into the person she is today. That perhaps she’s deeply broken in some way… Or is she? Fujiko’s existence as a woman is always at center stage. Again, she doesn’t use her femininity to simply put on airs—it’s a weapon she uses to confound and arouse her targets. But as this “weapon”, she also comes to reckon with the scars she’s incurred while being forged into a deadly object; how the fragile balance she’s managed to carve for herself could break at any moment.

While Fujiko’s dealing with that trauma, darting around the world, and stealing everything that isn’t nailed down, she runs into the soon-to-be Lupin Gang. The boys aren’t actually a gang just yet, but Fujiko seems to be spinning the webs drawing them together—be it a through battle of wits of with Lupin, playing the friendly governess for Goemon, becoming Jigen’s client, or playing a little tonsil hockey with Zenigata. However, the classic quartet aren’t the only men she’s toying with. Hell, she even finds herself smack-dab in the middle of the Cuban Missile Crisis. Mari Okada and her team of writers do an amazing job of creating satisfying, episodic stories that smartly yet subtly tie into the overarching narrative. But they never forget either that the fun in Lupin lies in the downtime the audience gets to spend with these iconic characters. 

On another note, if someone were to describe The Woman Called Fujiko Mine as “so gender it hurts,” I’d probably be saying it right alongside them. Especially when it comes to how Fujiko flaunts her assets around Zenigata’s subordinate, Oscar. Almost from the get go, it’s made fairly clear that he feels nothing but envy and rage when it comes to the catsuited thief. Perhaps for the fact that she slept with Oscar’s beloved inspector, seemingly possessing the feminine wiles he’s perhaps been dying to have…along with Zenigata’s affection. Without giving it all away, the plot Oscar hatches to catch Fujiko in episode six pulls on all of these incredibly “gender” strings. 

This gritty yet deeply thoughtful take on anime’s greatest femme fatale is truly terrific, and it isn’t pulling its punches at all. It’s that brutal honesty that makes The Woman Called Fujiko Mine a rock-solid entry point to the entire franchise, and it’s perhaps the one I’ve been waiting for all these years. Also, I’ve gotta watch everything Sayo Yamamoto’s directed now… Time to throw on Michiko & Hatchin, and I can’t forget to toss in a little Lupin Part I when I’m done. 

Coop Bicknell is a writer, MediaOCD contributor, and editorial contributor at Anime News Network.

Available at MediaOCD:
Lupin the Third: The Woman Called Fujiko Mine – Blu-ray