Anime Legacy | Tragic Absence. Why is Essential. Greece Needs Its Own Studio Ghibli.2026-Part D’.
Continuation from: Anime Legacy | Tragic Absence. Why is Essential? Greece Needs Its Own Studio Ghibli. 2026-Part C’ https://mangaanimeblogger.com/?p=2636
Table of Contents
6️⃣ The Greek Obsession with Live-Action
- The Superiority Complex of Live-Action in Greek Media
- The Absence of Female Archetypes in Greek TV
- Case Studies: Xena, The X-Files, Babylon 5, Alias
- The Dominance of Melodrama and the Marginalization of Animation
- The Economic and Cultural Prestige of Actors vs. Animation
- Iran’s Animation Renaissance as a Case Study
- The Illusion of Progressiveness in Greek Dramas
- The Nuanced Status of the Ancient Greek Woman
- The Problem of Historical Erasure (Aetolian Women, the Amazon Legacy)
7️⃣ Toxic Work Culture Example (Penthouse Case)
- Abuse in Live-Action Productions
- The Puritanical Backlash Against Animation
- The Need for a Creative Renaissance in Production Culture
6️⃣ The Greek Obsession with Live-Action
Anime Legacy | By exposing the superiority complex of anime haters, who, in the name of a supposed “quality,” silenced the epic narrative, we move on to the essence of the problem.
This in “modern” Greece, therefore, is not that live-action drama exists, but that it dominates almost exclusively. When narrative culture confines itself to domestic melodrama, social intrigue, and familiar realism, certain symbolic figures quietly vanish. The figures of the Amazon, the seeress, the warrior, scholar- once central to Greek symbolic consciousness- are reduced to historical footnotes rather than living narrative possibilities. A culture that forgets how to reinterpret its archetypes risks mistaking familiarity for depth and repetition for maturity.
Greek television had not yet normalized the warrior-woman archetype in mainstream storytelling. Image
Here lies the answer to the conservatism that often targets anime. The female knights of Saint Seiya, Eagle Marine, and Shaina, hidden behind their Masks, were not “foreign idols” but symbols of asceticism and devotion to duty. Shaina, who transforms hatred into self-sacrifice, embodies the spiritual victory over selfishness—a value deeply compatible with our own ideals, but which was sacrificed on the altar of a superficial “seriousness” in favor of live-action dramas.
In the 1990s, the reception of “Xena: Warrior Princess” in Greece was often marked by ambivalence. While internationally the series became an emblem of female strength and mythic reinvention, parts of Greek criticism dismissed it as a camp spectacle or a distortion of stories. Yet beneath aesthetic objections lay a subtler tension: the actions of a physically dominant, morally autonomous heroine in a cultural landscape still more accustomed to realism and romantic melodrama. Whether consciously or not, the series exposed a gap between inherited mythic archetypes- such as the Amazon- and their limited presence in contemporary Greek television narratives.
I don’t idealize the series. It was:
• Commercial.
• Often cheesy.
• Inconsistent in writing.
• Of Kitsh Aesthetics.
• Full of anachronisms.
But symbolically?
It reopened the warrior-woman in mass media.
The Subversion of the “Damsel-in-Distress” Model
In Greek fiction of the 90s, female characters were usually divided into three categories: the “femme fatale”, the “housewife/mother”, and the “young lover” in need of protection. Xena caused irritation because:
She overthrew the Monopoly of Male Protection: In Greek series (even historical ones), the man was the agent of action and violence. Xena not only practiced violence, but she did so in a way that ridiculed the male characters (who were often presented as incompetent or cowardly in front of her).
Autonomy and “Amazonism”: The image of a woman not defined by her relationship with a husband or father was foreign to the dominant model of Greek creators. Critics called her “unnatural” or “hysterical,” precisely because they could not place her in the usual categories.
Physicality: Xena was not just beautiful; she was muscular, sweaty, and determined. This dynamic femininity was in stark contrast to the “fragile” femininity that Greek directors promoted in their own productions.
X-Files, Babylon 5, and Alias in the same light
The “Threat” to the Traditional Model
In “The X-Files,” Dana Scully was the “rationalist” and Mulder the “intuitive”. This reversal of gender stereotypes (where traditionally the man is the logic and the woman the emotion) alienated Greek critics who found it “cold”.
Babylon 5
The series had women in high administrative and military positions (e.g., Delenn, Susan Ivanova) who made life and death decisions, without seeking the approval of any “patriarch”, which made the series seem very “foreign” for Greek standards.
But it was actually about diplomacy, authoritarianism, moral compromise, and long-term narrative design. In other words, it demanded sustained attention.
Alias featured: A multilingual, physically elite, emotionally complex, intellectually capable, and highly autonomous female spy.
The reception of Alias in Greece serves as a perfect case study of gender dismissal. While Sydney Bristow was portrayed as a hyper-capable agent—using tactical intelligence and martial prowess to overcome physically larger opponents—domestic critics frequently derided the character as ‘unrealistic.’ In reality, this critique of ‘realism’ was a thinly veiled discomfort with the image of a woman occupying the absolute center of an action-driven narrative. By labeling her capabilities as impossible, critics sought to delegitimize a female archetype that challenged the traditional, passive roles favored by the Greek ‘Safety’ of the Recipe. As a multilingual, physically elite. Emotionally complex.Intellectually capable.A highly autonomous female spy.
Modern Greek media elude embracing archetypes deeply rooted in our own history — the Amazon, the priestess, the strategist — archetypes that anime often explores more boldly than we do. A recurring element of Greek media was the director Manousos Manousakis. He built an entire empire on the model of “forbidden love” (Whispers of the Heart, Don’t Say Goodbye, Love Came from afar). His obsession is explained by three factors:
The paradox becomes clearer when one considers how Greek television handled romantic melodrama. Directors such as Manousos Manousakis repeatedly explored cross-cultural and socially “forbidden” relationships, often casting conventionally attractive mainstream actresses in roles meant to represent marginalized identities. These productions were unapologetically stylized; realism was secondary to emotional spectacle. Yet the same cultural environment that tolerated romantic fantasy frequently dismissed animation and genre storytelling as childish or unrealistic. This selective realism is revealing. If fantasy is acceptable when wrapped in melodrama, why is it suspect when it revives archetypes? Where, in contemporary Greek screens, are the Amazon, the seeress, the warrior, the scholar — figures that once populated our own mythic imagination? Their absence is not accidental. It reflects an aesthetic narrowing in which domestic intrigue is elevated, while symbolic grandeur is treated with embarrassment. Animation, by contrast, has never been afraid of the archetype. It understands that societies do not mature by shrinking their imagination, but by expanding it.
Twisting the “Romeo and Juliet” Recipe: Manousakis perceived that the Greek audience is moved by class or ethnic conflict. He used the “difference” (White man with Gypsy, Greek Christian girl with Muslim, Greek housewife with her Albanian servant, femme fatale with the Greek priest) not to make social criticism, but as a melodramatic obstacle that keeps the couple apart.
The “Exoticization” of the Greek Actress: The choice of a classical, beautiful Greek woman (e.g., Anna-Maria Papacharalambous) to play the Gypsy is the ultimate manifestation of a “fantasy”. Manousakis sought a sanitized, aestheticized version of the minority rather than a true representation. By prioritizing a ‘safe’ and beautified narrative, the production avoided the grit and complexity of lived reality, opting instead for a comfortable spectacle that satisfied the mainstream gaze without challenging its prejudices. However, we see that beautiful gypsy women are a mere fiction. The audience had to see “our” girl disguised, so that she remained attractive and familiar to the conservative average viewer.
The Illusion of Progressiveness: By presenting these love affairs, Manousakis gave the impression that he was “breaking taboos.” In reality, however, the women in these series remained passive victims of fate, family, or their environment, waiting for redemption through embracing the protagonist — the exact opposite of Xena.
This unveiling of the illusion is revealing. If fantasy is acceptable when limited in melodrama, why is it suspect when it revives archetypes? Where, in contemporary Greek screens, are the Amazon, the seeress, the warrior, the scholar — figures that once populated our own history, and mythic imagination? Their absence is not accidental. It reflects an aesthetic narrowing in which domestic intrigue is elevated, while symbolic grandeur is treated with embarrassment. Animation, by contrast, has never been afraid of the archetype. It understands that societies do not mature by shrinking their imagination, but by expanding it.
The Nuanced Status of the Ancient Greek Woman
One might argue that the era of the Amazons had long passed, and that “the position of the ancient Greek woman was no better than that of a servant.” While it is true that she did not possess full political rights in the modern sense, her status was far more complex than often portrayed. She was entitled to a formal education and was officially recorded in civil registries. Furthermore, her husband was legally prohibited from selling her dowry; in fact, these assets remained her own, providing a significant degree of financial independence. In Ephesus, a city of ancient Greek Ionia, inscriptions have revealed that women performed high-level civic duties, such as serving as Kosmeiteira (magistrate/director). History confirms that during this period, women ascended to the highest echelons of religious authority as Priestesses. The High Priestess of Demeter, for instance, held such prestige that she was the only woman permitted to preside over the Olympic Contests. The Greeks further honored the feminine through numerous dedicated festivals, such as the Anthesphoria, Gynaikothynia, Ekdysia, and the Heroia, often led by the Priestesses of Delphi. It is also worth noting that while Ancient Greece is often labeled a slave-owning society, it never experienced the massive, violent slave uprisings that plagued the much harsher Roman system—suggesting a different social dynamic altogether. * Η αποκάλυψη της αρχαίας Ελληνίδας: Η κατάρριψη των μύθων.Εκδόσεις Εύανδρος ,2006[The revelation of the ancient Greek woman: Debunking the myths.Evandros Publications, 2006 ]
To truly understand the psychological depth of the ‘fighting girl’ theme in manga and anime, I highly recommend reading Beautiful Fighting Girl by Saito Tamaki. It’s a fascinating deep dive into how otaku culture perceives and connects with fictional characters. If you want to add this essential piece of media theory to your collection, you can find it on Amazon here: https://amzn.to/3QSZnLC
Let’s study that the Aetolian women did not wait for their salvation. They raised their arms and took their fate into their own hands, as thousands of women around the world do today, refusing to remain “invisible” and claiming the space that is theirs in History. The women of Aetolia proved to be warriors who fought bravely and repelled the Gallic invasion of Greece in 279 BCE.
The current consensus prefers to show how the Greeks are suffering,setting defeatism, rather than remembering the women of Aetolia who held the axe of resistance.
What were the motives why these women were distorted, or silenced? Why was the idea forged that the Gauls were punished by supernatural forces? As far as I can tell, Pausanias wrote during the reigns of Roman emperors such as Hadrian and Antoninus Pius, when Greece was culturally prestigious but politically subordinate.
His work, Description of Greece, aimed to preserve Greek traditions, temples, and myths. However, he often relied on local priestly traditions and earlier literary sources, which themselves had already become mythologized.
By Pausanias’s time:
- Delphi’s priesthood had centuries of religious storytelling behind it.
- Roman rule encouraged safe, symbolic histories rather than politically provocative ones.
- Many local political rivalries of the Hellenistic period had already been reinterpreted or softened.
So, the version he records is likely a late-stage narrative, and not the original memory.
The Problem of the Aetolian League
The Aetolian League had once been one of the most powerful states in Greece. After the Gallic invasion, they effectively became the protectors of Delphi, gaining enormous prestige.
But their later history made them problematic. They eventually clashed with Rome in the Roman–Aetolian War, after which their power collapsed.
From a Roman-era perspective:
- Celebrating the Aetolians as the true saviors of Greece could look politically awkward.
- Rome preferred narratives emphasizing divine fate or collective Greek heritage, not the heroism of a former rival.
So shifting the story toward Apollo defeating the Gauls solved the problem elegantly.
The victory became religious rather than political.
Why Supernatural Punishment Was Convenient
The divine narrative served several interests simultaneously:
1. Delphi’s priests
It proved Apollo protected his sanctuary.
2. Roman authorities
It avoided glorifying a rebellious Hellenistic federation.
3. Later Greek writers
It fit traditional Greek moral storytelling (hubris punished by the gods).
In this version, the Gauls were destroyed by:
- earthquakes
- thunderstorms
- falling rocks
- phantom warriors sent by Apollo
Human defenders become secondary characters.
Where the Women Disappear
If early local traditions remembered Aetolian women fighting during the emergency defense, those details would have been doubly inconvenient:
- Greek elite historiography disliked acknowledging female combatants.
- Roman moral ideology emphasized strict gender roles even more strongly.
Replacing human defenders with divine apparitions or heroes of myth was a common literary solution.
The Pattern in Greek Historiography
This transformation fits a broader pattern.
Greek historical memory often moves through three stages:
- Immediate memory – chaotic, human, local.
- Political reinterpretation – shaped by rival states.
- Mythic stabilization – divine or legendary explanations dominate.
The story of Delphi looks to have passed through all three.
By the time Pausanias recorded it, the narrative had become a sacred miracle story rather than a military history.
1)Why does Greek TV cling to dramas?
Greek television’s obsession with social and dramatic (often period) series is no coincidence. It is the result of a combination of financial incentives, low risk, and an outdated perception of what “sells” to the Greek audience.
Here are the main reasons:
- The “Cash Rebate” Model and Ease of Production
EKOME’s investment incentive changed the landscape in 2018. While the incentive also covers animation, stations prefer dramas because:
Speed: A drama episode can be shot in a few days. An Aniplex, or even Rahgozar-quality animation episode, takes months.
Quantity: Channels need a daily flow to maintain advertising packages. Animation cannot be produced at a rate of 5 episodes per week. - The “Safety” of the Proven Formula
The Greek audience, particularly the older demographic that remains loyal to linear television, has been conditioned to prefer melodrama. Consequently, producers are terrified of creative risk. They cling to the outdated misconception that animation is strictly for children—a notion thoroughly debunked by international successes like Iran’s The Last Fiction. Furthermore, live-action drama facilitates easier product placement; a bottle of soda on a Greek family’s dinner table is far simpler to “market” than a digital asset within a high-concept fantasy world.
The Star System
Greek television is built on “faces,” not stories. Stations prioritize well-known actors who can pivot to morning talk shows and celebrity magazines to sustain viewer engagement. In the world of animation, the true “stars” are the animators and designers—creatives whom the Greek “showbiz” machine does not yet know how to manage, promote, or monetize.
The Absence of Long-Term Strategy (Greece vs. Iran)
As seen in Iran, animation has been effectively utilized as a cornerstone of national identity. In contrast, Greece suffers from a lack of strategic vision:
- The Ephemeral vs. The Eternal: Both the state and private networks view television as a disposable consumer product rather than a vehicle for cultural heritage.
- The Academic-Industrial Gap: There’s a profound disconnect between Greek universities and the country’s television networks. While Greece’s academic institutions and specialized schools produce world-class animators and digital artists—many of whom are forced to find distinction abroad—domestic television remains indifferent to their potential. While Greece produces world-class animators—many of whom find great success abroad—domestic TV continues to ignore them, opting instead for recycled foreign scripts or yet another tale of “forbidden love” in a rural village.
- The cost of Georgiadis’ “Ethics.”
The mentality (that animation is “foreign” or “dangerous”) has left an imprint: many program managers still consider cartoons an inferior art. Thus, they invest in dramas that are considered “quality”, even if their production is often cheap and repetitive. Unlike Hoorakhsh Studios, which exports culture, Greek television remains introverted, recycling dramatic clichés that limit the nation’s perspective and its influence abroad.
2 )What are the Economic reasons for the Greek Obsession with Live-Action(are actors cheaper than animation studios?)?
The answer to the question of whether actors are “cheaper” than animation is not a simple “yes” or “no”, but lies in the way Greek television manages the
cost per minute of television time.
The economic reasons for the obsession with live-action are as follows: - Cost per Hour of Program (Economy of Scale)
In animation, the cost is almost constant for every second: every frame must be designed. In live-action drama:
Actors vs Animators: An actor can shoot 10-15 pages of script per day. This translates into 20-30 minutes of finished program. A team of animators takes weeks to produce the same within the same time length.
Payback: The costs (set rental, lights, crew salaries) are spread over hundreds of episodes. In animation, the “set-up” (character design, rigging, backgrounds) is a huge upfront cost that the Greek market does not have the patience to amortize. - The “Daily” Model
Greek television lives off daily series.
Advertising Revenue: A channel needs 200 episodes per year to fill the “golden zone” (prime time). It is practically impossible for a Greek animation studio to produce 200 episodes per year with the budget of an average series.
Velocity of Liquidity: Live-action producers are paid by advertising almost immediately. Animation requires a “dead” production (development) period of 1-2 years with no revenue, something that Greek companies avoid like the devil avoids incense.
a)“Cash Rebate” and Overpricing
As stated in the EKOME model, the refund concerns expenses incurred in Greece.
In live-action, expenses (hotels, catering, transportation, and actors) are easy to record and justify.
In animation, the highest cost is intellectual work and software licenses. The Greek tax and investment system is still “tuned” to understand physical production (sets, costumes) and not digital labor intensity.
b)Export Value vs. Domestic Consumption
Here is the big difference with Iran and Ashkan Rahgozar:
Iran invested in animation because it is easily exportable (it is easily dubbed, it does not have “foreign” features).
Greek producers prefer dramas because the “packages” of the series are easily sold in Cyprus, the Balkans, or to expatriates, based on the “familiar recipe”. Animation requires international competition with giants like Pixar or Japanese studios, which scares Greek investors.
So are actors cheaper?
In the long run, no. But Greek television does not think in the long run. It thinks “now”. Actors provide immediate content that fills holes in the program and brings immediate viewing figures.
As observed with Mr. Georgiadis, the political leadership prefers to watch “300” (CGI) rather than understand that an investment in a studio like Hoorakhsh would pay off many times over in 10 years. The lack of vision translates into financial narrow-mindedness.
c)Cultural prestige associated with theatre tradition?
In Greece, “Cultural prestige” is inextricably linked to theater, and this acts as a brake on the recognition of animation as a serious art.
Here are the reasons why “theatricalism” affects television production:
- Theater as “High Art” vs. Animation as “Parakatian”
In Greek society, the status of “theater actor” carries a moral and intellectual superiority. Politicians, such as Mr. Georgiadis or Mr. Mitsotakis, prefer to be associated with theater (or historical dramas) because:
It gives a serious appearance: Theater is considered the direct descendant of Ancient Tragedy.
2. The Devaluation of the “Design” Among many Greek decision-makers, there is a persistent discrediting of animation as a medium. It is often dismissed as something inherently “artificial” or “childish,” under the false assumption that it lacks the “soul” or emotional weight of a live actor on stage.
This narrow perspective ignores the reality that animation is an act of pure creation. Unlike live-action, which records existing reality, animation must build every emotion, every shadow, and every movement from nothing. In the hands of a master, the “design” does not lack a soul; rather, it acts as a direct conduit for the creator’s spirit. By dismissing animation as a lesser art form, Greek producers are not just rejecting a technology—they are rejecting a medium that, globally, has proven to be more than capable of conveying the deepest complexities of the human condition.
This prejudice prevents state funding from seeing animation as an equal cultural product.
- “Confirmation” through Actors
Greek television stations use the prestige of the theater to “wash” the quality of their series:
When a daily soap opera hires well-known theater actors, it immediately acquires an “artistic alibi”.
This creates a closed market: Resources are directed where the “names” are, leaving animators on the sidelines, as they are considered technicians and not “prestigious artists”.
Why Iran Succeeded (The Example of Ashkan Rahgozar)
Ayatollah Khomeini did not oppose modern technologies such as cinema and animation, but believed that they should be “purified” of Western cultural values and put to the service of education and the dissemination of the Revolution’s message. His strategic support is considered crucial in the rescue of Iranian cinema after 1979, as he convinced religious circles that art could be morally acceptable.
Khomeini’s Position on Cinema and Animation
Although film production decreased dramatically after the revolution and extreme voices were calling for a complete ban on cinema, Khomeini made his position clear:
• Morality vs. Obscenity: In his first speech after his return from exile in 1979, he declared: “We are not against cinema, radio or television… We are against obscenity.”
• Pedagogical Role: He believed that cinema is a manifestation of culture that should serve man and his education according to Islamic rules.
• The film “The Cow”: The acceptance of cinema was consolidated in the spring of 1980, when Khomeini watched the film The Cow by Dariush Mehrjui. He considered it pedagogically superior to foreign films, giving the “green light” to creators to continue working, as long as their films promoted morality and national identity.
Activities and Infrastructure
The infrastructure for animation in Iran did not start from scratch after the revolution, but was based on the survival and transformation of existing institutions:
• Kanoon (Institute for the Spiritual Development of Children and Youth): This institute, which had been founded before the revolution, continued its operation under new management. It maintained its mission of producing educational materials and animations based on folklore, but now with an emphasis on Islamic, Iranian values.
• Strategic Development: Since the mid-1980s, the Iranian leadership has placed strategic emphasis on the development of the animation industry. This led to the creation of hundreds of companies in the sector in the following decades.
• Academic Standardization: In the late 1980s and early 1990s, university animation programs were established (e.g., at the University of Tehran), offering degrees that combined artistic and technical education.
Cultural Festivals and Promotion
Iran implemented policies to promote the arts through festivals, using them as a showcase for the ideals of the Revolution:
• Tehran International Animation Festival (TIAF): Although founded later (in 2000) by Kanoon, it is a continuation of the policy initiated under Khomeini to create a domestic industry that could compete internationally.
• Fajr Festival: Iran’s most important film event, established to celebrate the achievements of the new “ethical” cinema.
• International Screening: Films had to receive screening permission from the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance to participate in foreign festivals, ensuring that they represented national ideals.
Iran, through Ashkan Rahgozar’s Hoorakhsh Studios, has confirmed that animation is not “child’s play” but a means of national storytelling.
1. Connection to National Heritage: Rahgozar’s film “The Last Fiction” (2018) was based on the Shahnameh (the Epic of Kings). The Iranian state had understood that animation is the ideal tool to “export” its culture internationally, in a way that live-action films struggle to do due to censorship or cost.
2. Educational Infrastructure: Iran invested in schools and specialized workshops as early as the 1970s (such as the Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults – Kanoon). They created an army of artists who could work at lower costs but with high technical training.
3. Self-Sufficiency Due to Sanctions: Due to international sanctions, Iran was forced to develop its own technology and know-how, creating a closed but powerful production ecosystem.
The Contrast with Iran
Here, the comparison with Ashkan Rahgozar is revealing:
In Iran, the tradition of miniature and poetry was organically transferred to animation. They managed to give animation the prestige of classical art.
The comparison between Iran and Greece in the field of animation highlights how political will and strategic investment can transform an art into a heavy industry, even under conditions of isolation.
In Greece, the tradition of painting and drawing (e.g., Yannis Tsarouchis) was never officially linked to the digital age in the perception of politicians. They remained attached to the image of the actor who recites, considering it as the only “nationally proud” art.
- The “Political Capital” of Actors
Actors in Greece have strong political influence (many become MPs or MEPs).
Animators, being behind screens, do not have the same “visibility” nor the same access to decision-making centers.
For a politician, it is much more profitable to be photographed at a premiere in Epidaurus than to visit an animation studio creating the next international hit.
Conclusion: The “prestige” of theater in Greece functions as a golden wall. It protects quality, but at the same time locks television into outdated formats, preventing the emergence of fantasy-intensive industries (such as animation), which abroad are now considered the pinnacle of modern culture.
The irony is that while Mr. Georgiadis may have seen “300” for the “prestige” of the story, he refuses to see the art behind the medium, because it does not fit in with the traditional theatrical hierarchy it serves. - The illusion that “real actors = serious art.”
It is a deeply rooted prejudice of physical presence: if you don’t see the actor’s sweat, flesh, and bone, then “it’s not art”.
Let’s deconstruct this fallacy and how it is maintained: - The “Trap” of Realism
In Greek culture, art is often equated with realism. Animation, by its very nature, is abstraction.
For the average Greek politician or program director, seeing an actor cry on camera is “real”.
Seeing a hand-drawn character (as in The Last Fiction) express the same sadness is considered “artificial”.
The reality: The truth is that animation can achieve psychological depths that live-action simply cannot reach. While a live actor is bound by the laws of physics and the natural limitations of the human face, animation is unconstrained. It allows the creator to externalize the internal—to turn a character’s grief into a literal storm or their joy into a shift in the very laws of gravity. In animation, the visual environment is not just a setting; it is an extension of the character’s psyche. It doesn’t just show us what a character is doing; it manifests how they are feeling in a way that transcends the boundaries of physical reality. - The Ignorance of “Acting” in Animation
There is a mistaken impression that in animation, “the computer does everything”.
In reality, the animator is the actor behind the pencil. He must understand anatomy, psychology, and timing better than many theater actors.
When Adonis Georgiadis or the leadership of ND underestimate the medium, they essentially underestimate one of the most demanding forms of acting in the world.
- Animation as a “Trojan Horse” (The Lesson of Iran)
Ashkan Rahgozar understood something that Greece ignores:
Animation is not a “genre”, it is a medium.
While in Greece animation is imprisoned in the category of “children’s”, in Iran, it was used to convey epic, dark, and political messages. The illusion that “real actors = serious art” is shattered if one sees the power of a fight scene in The Last Fiction, which has more spirituality and “weight” than many cheap Greek live-action productions. - The Political Expediency of “Seriousness”
Why has Mr. Georgiadis never apologized?
Because admitting that animation is serious art would mean admitting that his judgment was frivolous.
In the Greek political scene, “seriousness” is measured by how attached you are to the past. Animation represents the future, technology, and globalization—elements that often terrify a conservative rhetoric that wants to keep the public locked into traditional (and controlled) standards.
The Result of Illusion
This obsession has led to cultural isolationism:
Brain Drain: The best Greek animators work at Disney, Netflix, or Ubisoft.
Poverty of Imagination: Greek TV recycles the same social dramas, while it could be creating “modern myths” through animation that would travel the world.
It is tragic that in 2017 Survivor was praised as a “social phenomenon”, while at the same time the art that requires the utmost human skill and imagination is still treated as something “not for serious people”.
Let’s take examples from the cyberpunk “Bubblegum Crisis” of the late 80s, and of Rahgozar, for a public debate to dispel this “illusion” of the superiority of live-action.
- “Visual Metaphor” vs. Camera Realism
Bubblegum Crisis is an Example: Set in the dystopian Mega Tokyo of 2032, the technology of the “Boomers” (androids) is used to show the alienation and corruption of corporations.
Argument: Live-action from the 1980s would have needed millions to show this depth. But animation can project emotion onto the city. The “true art” here is not the recording of reality, but the creation of a world that reflects our fears about the future.
Response to “seriousness”: How can a reality show like Survivor be considered “more serious” than a series that predicted social inequality and the dominance of technology?
- “Line Acting” vs. The Star Actor
Rahgozar Example: In The Last Fiction, Zahhak or Kaveh’s expressions are not just “drawings.” They are studied movements that convey inner conflict, anger, and sacrifice in a way that no actor (especially in a daily drama) can achieve without seeming overdone.
Argument: In animation, the creator has complete control over the performance. Every look is intentional. This requires a greater mental effort than having an actor cry on set. “Serious art” is judged by intention and execution, not by whether the performer is a member of the Screen Actors Guild.
- Cultural Identity as an Exportable Product
Comparison:
Bubblegum Crisis made the West get in love with Japanese aesthetics and philosophy.
Rahgozar took Iran’s oldest epic and made it a global phenomenon, reaching the Oscar lists.
Argument to Politicians: While you invest in dramas that are consumed only within borders or in reality that are forgotten the next season, animation builds timeless cultural power (Soft Power). Iran is applying animation to show its history to the planet. Why is Greece afraid to do the same with its own mythology?
- The Moral Dimension (Reply to Georgiadis)
Argument: Mr. Georgiadis, in 2007, accused animation of lacking morality.
In Bubblegum Crisis, the protagonists (Knight Sabers) fight for justice in a world that has lost its compass.
In Rahgozar, the struggle of good with evil is archetypal and deeply moral.
The “sharp” question: What is truly moral? An art that teaches resistance to injustice and self-sacrifice through symbolism, or a reality show based on competition for who can eat a coconut more?
Practical Conclusion for the Discussion
“Our obsession with live-action is not a choice of quality; it is a lack of imagination and economic illiteracy. When Rahgozar conquers the world with his pencil and Bubblegum Crisis defines our future since 1987, considering animation “childish” as if to define typography inferior to a handwritten letter. It is time to stop praising Survivor and start supporting Greek creators who can make our own mythology a global cyberpunk epic.”
The TV series “The Evil Vezyer” (Ο Κακός Βεζύρης) implemented a Simplistic “Conspiracy”: The satire focused on deconstructing political muck and sloppiness. I find the plot simplistic because the series focuses more on the absurdity of Greek bureaucracy than on a complex political thriller.
So, the series, through the exaggeration of Haris Roma’s comedy, cultivated in many Greeks a dangerous illusion:
• The “Ease” of Corruption: It presented politics as a game where a simple intrigue or blackmail is enough to change everything. In reality, geopolitical balances and state mechanisms are much more complex than the “office of a Secretary General”.
• The Ridicule of Danger: When you see the “bad guy” as a hysterical caricature, you stop taking him seriously. This may have led the audience to underestimate the real dangers of foreign policy, considering them simply “internal concoctions”.
• Lack of Consequences: In the Mega Channel universe of that time, actions rarely had a lasting impact.
Let’s reimagine the series: A sequence takes place, where the secretary Vezyris enters the American embassy, meets American officers, and tells them: “Make me Prime Minister of Greece, and I’ll do everything to name Skopia to Macedonia. I’ll even commence a witch hunt on everyone who would oppose the plan, including friends of Russia.”
This would show that decisions have irreversible national consequences, something the series avoided to remain “entertaining.”
Ultimately, the series may have contributed to what we call “political primitivism”: the belief that everything is solved or ruined by a small scheme in the background, removing from the citizen a sense of the complexity of the real world.
If a society chooses to privilege one form of storytelling over another, it implicitly declares that form more mature, more serious, and worthy of attention. But maturity is not declared; it is demonstrated. Before dismissing animation as inferior, it is reasonable to ask whether the dominant form — live-action television — has fulfilled the ethical and aesthetic expectations placed upon it. The following examples offer a revealing case.
Let’s see what’s subtly wrong with two Greek, lavishly made TV live-action shows.
- “Κωνσταντίνοΰ και Ελένης”. The famous series about Professor Mr. Kantakouzinos. Who, as an instructor, never does his duty to teach at the university. Throughout the show runs his strange obsession with writing a doctoral thesis on the sewage system in Byzantium. Why, of all the topics of this empire, did they get this one…? Don’t people know that this sounds like the sexual perversion slander κοπρολαλιά? How about the constant quarrels? The lack of romantic tension was called ” romantic.”
The problem is that Greek television recycles misanthropy and triviality, calling them “entertainment”.
Explanation
- Constantine and Helen[ Κωνσταντίνου και Ελένη] (Coprology as a “Science”):
The choice of the Byzantine sewage system (the infamous “Apolytikion”) is not accidental. It is a way to ridicule Byzantine literature and serious historical research.
Coprolalia/Skatophilia: The subconscious sexual innuendo is throughout the series. Such an obsession with sewage in a sitcom lowers the intellectual level to a “cesspool”, literally and figuratively.
The “Romantic” Toxic Model: The series promoted the idea that abuse, screaming, and complete disrespect are “passion”. It is the apotheosis of anti-eroticism. By serious standards, the constant screaming and physical aggression aren’t romantic; they’re exhausting. The lack of tension is replaced by high-decibel shouting matches that somehow ended in a wedding.
The Professional Void: He seldom goes to the University of Athens. In reality, a professor with that little output and zero teaching hours would have lost his tenure long ago. As he performs no labor, he lives in a beautiful house in Marousi that he didn’t earn (it was part of an inheritance dispute).
The Economic Message: The show inadvertently(?)glamorized the idea that “having a title” or “by never working to own a house” is more important than actual productivity. It mirrored a pre-crisis mentality where the goal was a state job with tenure and minimal effort.
• The Moral Stagnation: By making his constant screaming and “scamming” for a better life funny, the show softened the edges of what was actually a very dysfunctional social behavior. It portrayed the “Greek Dream” not as progress, but as successfully defending one’s “turf” without working.
2) The newly made ones :
a)The series “The Red River” by Manousos Manousakis (2019-2023) was a significant milestone in his career. Under the claim “of concern for Greek history, such as the highlighting of the Pontic Genocide,” he brought his usual self. His approach focused more on the drama of the victim and the suffering of the refugee, following the recipe of “melodrama” that he established for himself. My criticism is on the difference between the story of passive sacrifice and the history of armed resistance.
Indeed, the series received comments on the following points:
The Emotion of Defeatism.
Absence of the Guerrilla: While there was strong armed resistance in Pontus (e.g., in the mountains of Santa or Pafras), the series chose to give weight to uprooting. The omission of victorious battles indeed created a sense of fatalism or defeatism in the viewer.
Fiction vs. Heroism: The focus on the romance often “stole” time from the emergence of the military and political organization of the Pontians, downgrading the image of the fighter.
Psychological impact: There is a view that the constant display of the massacre cultivates a “collective trauma” rather than national self-confidence. The need for role models who overcome and resist is a key issue for popular inspiration.
Essentially, the series functioned as a “memorial” for the victims, but missed the opportunity to function as an epic for the indomitable heroes.
1. Specific Battles for the “Pontic Epic.”
Instead of the massacre, an epic animation could show:
The Siege of Santa Castle (1921): A “Greek Masada”, where the guerrillas under Eucleides Kourtides resisted on multiple forces. It is a story of pure bravery that inspires, rather than saddens.
The Battles of Top Cham: The action of the guerrilla groups of Pafra, which forced the Turkish army to retreat in several clashes.
The Action of the Pontic Amazons: Women like Pelagia and Helen who fought in the mountains. Visualizing such figures would “break” the pattern of the passive victim.
2. Comparison with Productions That Highlight Victory
Western Models: Braveheart or The Patriot. Although they picture suffering, the closure is freedom and resistance.
Japanese Anime (e.g., Golden Kamuy or Arslan Senki): They deal with national traumas and historical periods emphasizing militancy and survival, avoiding the “melodramatism” that locks the viewer in sadness.
Animation vs. “Manousakis” Drama
Greek drama (like Red River Kokkino Potami) opts for a static depiction of trauma. The viewer identifies with the victim, which causes emotional exhaustion.
In contrast, animation (with its economy of movement and emphasis on archetypes) could transform the Pontic resistance into an epic Shonen:
Visual Language: Where Manousakis utilizes close-ups of tears, animation applies dynamic angles of view in battles.
Psychology: Drama generates sympathy for the defeated; animation generates admiration for the fighter.
2. Eucleides Kourtides: The Missing Model
Kourtides (the “Leonidas of Pontus”) is the ideal figure to support your argument. Instead of the image of the refugee with the bag, we have:
The Chief of Santa: He led the rebels in the Santa mountains, an area with 7 villages that remained impregnable.
The Battle of Papa’s Hole (1921): With just a handful of men, Kourtides faced hundreds of Turkish soldiers. His strategy and refusal to surrender are reminiscent of movie heroes that Greek live-action ignores for the sake of melodrama.
Symbol of Defiance: Even after the fall of the front, his action kept hope alive. He is a character that “writes” perfectly in animation, as his life is full of action, danger, and heroic escape.
The fine example of Sugimoto in the manga: “The Golden Kamuy”[Japanese: ゴールデンカムイ],written and illustrated by Satoru Noda[野田サトル]. Set against the backdrop of the Russo-Japanese War, the anime tackles veteran trauma and survival. The protagonist “Sugimoto the Immortal” embodies the denial of defeat. Similarly, Eucleides Kourtides could be a “Santa’s Immortal”, a character who survives improbable circumstances thanks to his martial virtue.
Yotoden: As the historical Sengoku period turns into a dark, supernatural epic. It confirms that animation can take serious archetypes (ninja, samurai) and transform them into something dynamic. In “Red River”, the Pontic rebels remain “d” of the drama, while in animation, they would be the central heroes who upset the balance.
The Connection with Eucleides Kourtides
Kourtides was not just a soldier; he was a mountain tactician. His ability to keep Santa invincible against a regular army is the ultimate “Power Fantasy” that animation loves. Manousakis’ series focuses on “why we lost”, while an anime would focus on “how we stayed standing until the end”.
While Japan uses animation to transform its history into a global epic myth, Greece remains trapped in a “manousakeian” model of drama that recycles trauma rather than inspires. A typical example is Red River: instead of highlighting the Pontic Epic and the shocking resistance of the rebels, the series submits to the familiar melodramatic formula, focusing passively on the slaughter and mourning.
This approach produces a dangerous defeatism. Where Greek live-action depicts the victim bending, an anime like Golden Kamuy would highlight the iron will to survive, or, like Yotoden, would transform the historical tradition into an explosive show of strength. The absence of figures like Euclides Kourtides —of “Leonidas of Pontus” who kept Santa impregnable— from the central narrative deprives the public of heroic role models. Instead of the image of the Greek who fights as a tactician in the mountains, television offers us the Greek who suffers. Animation has the unique ability to visualize the victory of the soul and bravery, elements that domestic production “silences” in favor of a static and fatalistic aesthetic.
While Japan would make Kourtides a global legend through animation, Greek television discards him on the sake of tearful viewership, preferring to show the Greek suffering and force defeatism rather than winning.
b) “The witch (Η Μάγισσα), by Ant1. The context makes no sense. It’s supposed to be Greece under Ottoman rule. What was so suspenseful about it? That they placed a harlot on the side of a warlord, and then they get worried if she is a witch? Did the enslaved Greeks ραγιάδες ever have such luxuries?
“The Witch” The Historical Forgery- Backed Anachronism:
The series, ignoring the cruel reality of the Greeks, attempts to copy Game of Thrones in a “Balkan/Ottoman” setting. During the 400 years, the enslaved Greeks were struggling for their survival and their faith; they did not live in towers with “fatal” witches and soap opera-style love triangles.
The “Harlot” on the side of the “Warlord”: the woman must be either a victim or a “pervert” (harlot/witch) to be of interest to the Greek audience. The concept of the Priestess or the Amazon is completely absent because it requires spiritual depth.
By turning the Ottoman occupation into a gothic aesthetic fantasy, the true gravity of the Tourkokratia is lost.
• The Confusion: When a sitcom is lavishly backed to forge history presented through the lens of Netflix, then the actual socio-economic reality of the Greek people—the strict Occupation, the poverty, the secret schools (regardless of the historical debate on them), the heavy taxes, and the sheer grit of survival—becomes secondary.
• The Luxury Bias: The “luxury” shown on screen cultivates a false image. It makes it look like 1800s Greece was a place of intrigue and velvet capes rather than a brutalized, agrarian society fighting for its very existence. This makes it harder for younger generations to appreciate the actual hardship their ancestors endured.
3. The “Canned” Emotional Intelligence
Both shows, in different ways, promote a confused version of human relationships:
• The Sitcom: Taught that love is constant verbal abuse and a lack of boundaries.
• The Drama: Teaches that history is just a backdrop for modern-style soap opera romances.
When the most popular media in a country relies on shouting (Κωνσταντίνου και Ελένης) or impossible glamor (Η Μάγισσα), it creates a “moral predicament” where the public becomes used to high-decibel drama over calm, logical discourse or historical accuracy.
Why are excuses incorrect?
• The “Commerciality”: They often say that “this is what the people want”. This is wrong. The people consume what they are served because they have no alternative infrastructure (like the animation).
• The “Quality” of The Witch: The expensive production (sets, costumes) is used as a smokescreen to hide the empty script and the lack of historical truth.
The Result: A Cultural Schizophrenia
Greeks are often caught between two identities: the glorious, ancient/Byzantine ancestor and the modern, struggling obedient.
• Konstantinos represents the mocking of history (the Byzantine sewage)through a sick obsession, while ignoring that the present will crumble.
• The Witch represents the desire to see our history through a “Western” or “Netflix-style” lens to feel relevant.
Ultimately, these shows don’t cause an economic crisis, but they do provide the anesthesia that allows people to ignore the systemic issues that lead to one.
Let’s review the official trailer of “Ονειρο Ζω” με τον Μιχάλη Xατζηγιάννη. Where the pretty girl(model Julia Alexandratou in her early days) dons attire similar to Tomb Raider to reach her boyfriend, attempting to enter the fortified villa.
But something is certainly OFF: She is weaponless. She tries to reach him, making impressive moves of “acrobatic” invasion in the place, but she fails. So they choose to ridicule Tomb Raider.
This is the “Greek paradox”: directors borrow the aesthetics of global pop culture (Lara Croft’s look), but they strip her of her power and essence (weapons, decision-making mindset, ability, autonomy), turning her back into a clumsy girl who is simply looking for her partner. The official trailer for “Dream Life” confirms exactly this sheer manipulation, which twists the symbol to something obscure and superficial.
This mentality operates with double standards:
- The Castration of the Archetype: A Greek kunoichi or warrior would frighten the domestic system because she would escape the standard of “passive beauty”. If the heroine has weapons or superpowers, she ceases to be the victim who needs protection — and this destroys the soap opera recipe.
- The Hypocrisy of “Corruption”: The same people who would label an ecchi or a seinen anime as “perverted” have no problem with everyday series that portray betrayal and crime as normal. They consider fantasy dangerous because it offers alternative life models, while their keyhole realism is familiar and controllable.
It is tragic that Greece, the homeland of the Amazons and Athena, is afraid to see a Greek production about a female warrior on screen, calling her “un-Hellenic.” In fact, nothing is more Greek than the archetype of the Virgin Warrior, which Japan duly honored (e.g., Nausicaä, Ghost in the Shell), while we buried it under tons of melodrama.
In retrospect, was there something wrong with the Greek TV series “At five o’clock(Στο Παρά Πέντε)” ?
The series (2005-2007) was a phenomenon that, despite its enormous success, is now receiving scrutiny for its choice to stay within the “harmless” context of social solidarity, avoiding hard politics.
Here are the concerns:
• The “Soft” Political Conflict: The case with Prime Minister Pavrinos and the murder of the 1970s functioned more as a “police mystery” than as a deep analysis of political decay. While the Macedonian issue was boiling in 2006, Kapoutzidis chose to focus on the power of the group and “good vs. evil”, avoiding national intrigues that could trouble the audience.
• Implications and Social Agenda: The series indirectly introduced issues of sexual orientation (such as the character of Fotis), but did so in a way that today seems overly cautious. Focusing on the LGBTQ+ agenda became the creator’s main concern in his subsequent works (e.g., “Serres”), leaving the “national drama” behind.
• Lack of National Intrigue: Kapoutzides has never touched on the “great” national conspiracy. His series remains anthropocentric and often didactic. If “Pavrinos” had been a politician involved in geopolitical schemes, and more than an old murderer, the series would have acquired another, more historical significance.
• 2006’s “Thorn: The refusal to include the real national tension of the time, such as the Macedonian, was likely a conscious choice to maintain the “feel-good” character of Mega Channel.
Ultimately, Kapoutzides preferred to craft a modern fairy tale rather than a national manifesto, something that for many viewers today seems like a missed opportunity for a more “adult” television.
Do you think that if a Greek creator made an indie animation with a dynamic Greek heroine and uploaded it directly to the internet, they could bypass this “official” gerontocracy?
Kyriakos Mitsotakis and “Survivor”
At the beginning of 2017, the president of the new Democracy, Kyriakos Mitsotakis, publicly spoke very nicely about the( excessively praised) reality show “Survivor”. I see how the animehating sense of Georgiades is aligned with the higher-ups of ND. “a phenomenon that I want to examine. I do not judge it either negatively or positively, nor am I in a hurry to draw a specific conclusion. It interests me, it is a phenomenon that Greek society sees, so I am in a hurry to draw a conclusion, but lately I am starting to become informed about it.”[“ένα φαινόμενο που θέλω να το εξετάσω. Δεν το κρίνω ούτε αρνητικά ούτε θετικά , ούτε σπεύδω να βγάλω ένα συγκεκριμένο συμπέρασμα. Μου προξενεί ενδιαφέρον, είναι ένα φαινόμενο που βλέπει η ελληνική κοινωνία γι αυτό δεν σπεύδω να βγάλω συμπέρασμα αλλά τώρα τελευταία αρχίζω να ενημερώνομαι για αυτό». ]
https://www.documentonews.gr/article/survivor-telika-to-blepei-o-kyriakos-mhtsotakhs-video
• He admitted that his family watches it and commented on the “competitive” but also “team” nature of the game.
• This stance was interpreted by many as an attempt to reach the wider public (“popular profile”), as the program was achieving unprecedented viewership rates.
• The result: While animation in Greece remains without a strong industry, politicians use television culture as a communication tool, without necessarily supporting substantial artistic creation.
When a politician or intellectual mocks animation, let me point out that:
- Iran and “Infrastructure”: The success of Ashkan Rahgozar and Hoorakhsh Studios proves that even under strict regimes, animation is used to highlight national mythology (e.g., The Last Fiction) with global appeal.
- Moral Values: Animation is not a “genre”, it is a “medium”. Saying that children don’t get values from animation is like saying that they don’t get values from books because there are bad books.
In recent years, Greek television has invested heavily in so-called “quality” productions — elaborate melodramas, large ensembles, polished cinematography, and substantial funding mechanisms. On the surface, this appears to signal a cultural renaissance. The industry is more technically competent, more ambitious in scale, and more confident in presentation. Yet scale alone does not constitute renewal. A true renaissance is not measured only by budgets or production values, but by the expansion of imaginative horizons. When narrative ambition remains confined to familiar formulas — period melodrama, social intrigue, biographical dramatization — one must ask whether what we are witnessing is transformation, or refinement of an old template. Growth in resources does not automatically mean growth in symbolic courage.
7️⃣Toxic Work Culture Example (Penthouse case) Plus, I found news on NewsBeast.gr as a confirmation of The Cultural Self-Harm. The ruse behind the cute image of series ,such as “The Penthouse: https://www.newsbeast.gr/media/tileorasi/arthro/12758734/pavlos-evangelopoulos-ezisa-kakopoiitikes-syberifores-sto-retire-o-dalianidis-dimiourgouse-mia-atmosfaira-tromou
“I have experienced this situation in “Penthouse” and “Micromeseioi” under Giannis Dalianidis. He was such a guy; he created an atmosphere of terror on set. At the time, we considered it normal, because he was the myth that would call out to us, and we were nothing; we should listen and be disciplined. There were moments on the set when actors, much older than me and much more experienced, would burst into tears. I had even said at the time that after this collaboration, everything else would be like an amusement park. Of course, not to me, never. I want to say that I was a witness to the whole story, but without being the main recipient of this behavior.”
This testimony speaks volumes about how some steps the revered Greek live-action industry was—and perhaps still is—to mutate and build on tyranny, fear, and humiliation. Greece must confront its cultural self-harm—not just the loss of animation, but the toxic creative environments that flourished in its absence. The Evangelopoulos interview is a starting point for this conversation. Reclaim Animation as Hellenic:
- Anime didn’t corrupt Greek values; it could have saved them. Its themes of sacrifice (Nausicaä), loyalty (Dragon Ball), and fighting for a just world are deeply compatible with the best of Greek philosophy and myth.
- Build a New Creative Culture:
• Cage 1: The Live-Action Tyranny — Where heroes are ridiculed, women are damsels, and directors rule by terror.
• Cage 2: The Puritanical Backlash — Where any bold, aesthetic, or sensual art (like ecchi anime) is called “immoral” by the same people who funded Manousakis’s melodramas.
The Key: Greek Animation.
Imagine a Greek animation studio creating long-term animations:
Project 1: A Greek school-life anime—with uniforms, youth, and stylized beauty (ecchi/fanservice as visual language, not sin).
Project 2: A Greek kunoichi series—a female warrior-mystic, the antidote to the “damsel,” serving the nation with intelligence and power.
Project 3: Magical Girls (Mahou Shoujo) ala Greek: Not only of stars and wands, but their powers could also be based on the Aegean sun or the Eleusinian Mysteries. The reaction to the pentagram or “magical” symbols is a sign of ignorance, as geometry and symbolism are part of ancient Greek science (Pythagoreans).
Project 4:The anime adaptation of the historical drama novella “Antones Stenemachites”, set in 1876 in Philippopolis (today’s Plovdiv), which is being targeted by both Turks and Bulgarians. Calliope Papathanase – Mousiopoulou.
Project 5:An anime adaptation of the fantasy isekai novel “THE DRAGONBORN”, by author Eriella Chrysou.
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