I found myself free of distractions by my computer over the weekend, and in the vicinity of a smart TV, so I... forced myself to binge-finish Kill la Kill.
That sounds like I didn't like it, but that's not the case. Kill la Kill was great, but it's an unabating assault on one's senses. The show alone is enough to give you sensory overload, and couple that with having to read subtitles for characters that talk with what feels like a thousand words per minute (especially Mako when she gets going) it becomes quite tiring to watch. It's something similar that makes my going through JoJo's bizarre adventure quite slow. I enjoy watching it and laugh like an idiot at the shenanigans.
However, more than one or two episodes a day is kind of hard to do. For JoJo's, that's not sensory overload, but the same thing that happened to me when I watched Way of the Househusband. There's something about the combination of overly dramatic Japanese, reading subtitles and the a mix of barely animated, almost still parts and over the top action pieces, that makes me weary while watching, regardless of of much I like the content.
When you find yourself writing... anything, I guess, be it TV, film or animation scripts, music, lyrics or novels, you can do many things within the genre you've picked. Play the established tropes straight, like many do, subvert them, create a deconstruction, or you can do a parody. Sometimes works contain elements from more than one of these, and often, I've noticed, the fandumb and critics alike use the terminology wrong. Kill la Kill, interestingly enough, completes a final element within anime that I haven't seen yet - namely the latter.
Although, in all fairness, when you look at anime that plays tropes straight, like Sailor Moon and Cardcaptor Sakura, that only has limited applicability when you are the very shows that establish the tropes, in the case of modern Maho Shojo (and Kill la Kill is, at the end of the day, a Maho Shojo anime, the main protagonist and antagonist and the secondary ones - they're all magical girls, some of which have transformation sequences, coupled with a fighting anime).
The difference between subversions and deconstructions isn't an actually easy one. A deconstruction of mecha anime, for instance, would be Neon Genesis Evangelion insofar as it seeks to shine a light on what would happen if you applied this storytelling device or convention to real life. The mech piloting is still there. The mechs are there, even if they get a tinge of a subversion later by turning out to be grown from a giant alien entity, rather than constructed, but that's only a minor element.
A deconstruction, by its nature, doesn't do anything to acknowledge prior works with the same tropes, it is a type of reading in the work itself.
When you contrast this with Puella Magi Madoka Magica's Kyubey, this does nothing of the sort. It doesn't explore the question of what would happen if magical, wish granting and power giving animals were real, it takes the benevolent magical animal companion trope (like Luna, Artemis and Kero) and subverts the expectations (as loaded as that term nowadays is) of the viewers by not being what is expected of it. Kyubey is cute and fuzzy, but not nice.
Not that Madoka doesn't have deconstructive elements too, it's just that the subversion is a much stronger element in it (Mami is the most clearly deconstructive element, I'd say - accepting the fact that nobody would care for an orphan, but that's an entirely different rabbit hole to go down).
Kill la Kill, on the other hand, is a parody by way of turning tropes to OVER NINE THOUSAND so they become a ridiculous mockery of themselves, and that former Gainax members are part of it really shows, too.
It all begins with Ryuko, a girl looking for the murderer of her father. The only clue she has is her only possession. Half a scissor she uses to fight. Through some shenanigans she ends up finding her late father's final piece of work, a school uniform with magical powers that consumed Ryuko's blood in exchange for power. Right from the start this shows how the parody through crassness works. Her transformation ends with her wearing a ridiculous stripper outfit that barely covers anything, which makes Mako, a girl in the family she stays with, call her an exhibitionist all the time, with Ryuko saying that she isn't.
She ends up at the academy that Satsuki runs with an iron fist. A vertiable fascist paradise where the unwashed masses are ruled over by people who have had life fibers (special threads granting magical powers) worked into their school uniforms. Regular students have normal school uniforms, the others have ranked power levels. One star uniforms are worn by the unnamed and faceless masses of the party (sort of, they're just better students here) that lord over students with no stars. Two star uniforms are for the leaders of club activities and finally there are the three star uniforms worn by the student council. They effectively run the school - that itself is making a mockery of the absurdely powerful student council trope that many animes playing at school employ.
In time, Ryuko realizes that there's more going on, and that her teacher who claims to be working for an organisation called Nudist Beach actually meant that, and isn't just a creep that undresses at every opportunity (though of course, he is that too). There's a resistance against the life fiber clothing - and it's of course people who go skinny dipping. What else?
There are 25 episodes. Well, 24 plus an OVA, but Netflix lists that as the 25th episode. Pretty much worth a watch if you like parodies. One of the biggest laughs was when Ryuko and Satsuki talked to each other while fighting. There's this massive whirlwind of fighting chaos in the middle of the screen, with the faces of the two on each sides, just talking as if nothing else was going on:
Time coded. Obvious spoiler warning.
Hidden underneath all that are actually certain themes, talk about fashion, individuality vs. collectivism and a number of other things.
Phew, that's enough for now.