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Substance over style, style over substance? Pretty visuals, or powerful plots? Glamorous production, or memorable themes? Sometimes it feels like writers and producers often ask themselves this question as a way of deciding what part of the show to sacrifice in service for another—a tightly written, genuinely complex narrative or brilliant visuals, dizzying cinematography and a high-flown music backing? Sometimes as a viewer it feels like we have to ask ourselves the same question—what I just watched, did I enjoy it superficially or was it something deeper than that? Why does one matter more than the other? Sometimes I have to ask myself if I ... simply liked the way a show looked, or did it affect me on a more personal, genuine level?

But sometimes I’m left asking myself... was it both?

Samurai Champloo is one of these rare, no-compromise, all-inclusive anime experiences that leaves you feeling every conceivable emotion. It leaves you feeling warm because of its sincere themes, it leaves you inspired by the gorgeous, vivid visuals and it leaves you entranced by the dazzling soundtrack. It’s a show that you can enjoy in any capacity, in any mood, and under any lens. Do you like audiovisuals? Do you like action? Poignancy? Romance? Satire? It’s all there. If there was ever a show to embody the concept of universal enjoyment, in theory Samurai Champloo would be it.

A show can only go as far as its characters, so how far does Samurai Champloo go? The three main cast members were all treated fairly (although admittedly Mugen was given more treatment, being the main, main character) and they all had contrasting personalities. It's hands down one of the best use of character foils I've personally seen in anime; Mugen the big-mouthed and rogue criminal; Jin, the ice-cool and disciplined ronin; and Fuu, the brave yet petite teenager. Each of the characters are polar opposites of one another and because their personalities are written so consistently, their interactions are spectacularly entertaining to watch. The fashion in which they all bounce thoughts, dialogue and emotion off of one another is always enjoyable, but most importantly, natural as well. While as an anime emotions are dragged out and overplayed, it still feels oddly authentic—the characters are always true to how they are written so it never feels superficial.

Following the characters was the plot; it was kept simple: look for the “sunflower samurai” and in the process embark on an action-packed, treacherous adventure of smiles, laughter, tears and blood. The core theme of the narrative is the notion that the journeys we travel in life are more often than not more enjoyable and important than the destination or goal we arrive at. The emphasis is on important, because, if our trio of a cast simply found the Sunflower Samurai without their arduous journey, none of them would have progressed as characters like they did in the original story.

This is truly a special theme because of how easily it can be extrapolated to our lives—we all have dreams, ambitions and aspirations that we one day hope to achieve and while we fantasize and drool over the thoughts of achieving them, more often than not it won’t be the end goal itself that will give us the gratification. No, it’s something much more deep and sincere than that—it’s the shaky, uncertain path that you took to get there. The work, the emotions, the doubts, the failures, the small successes, everything that made reaching the end goal seem so impossible and difficult, that is what is truly gratifying. And like the show conveys to you… sometimes the end goal itself isn’t that special after all, and what is actually valuable, and what you actually take away from that long, exhausting journey… is the journey itself.

In terms of format, Samurai Champloo is episodic, and it uses that format to its advantage. By making it very obvious that the events in each episode were self-contained tales, the show was able to drastically change its tone from suspense, action, poignancy, etc. without seeming jarring. It was able to tell tales of heartbreak, tales of redemption, tales of hilarity, all without seeming like it didn't know what it wanted to be, and in the process take you on a roller coaster of emotions that leave a lasting mark.

The soundtrack of Samurai Champloo is phenomenal. It’s the part of the audiovisual experience that has to be addressed. Some of Nujabes’ best work, with low-fi beats and subtle hip-hop influences that juxtapose brilliantly with the traditional and orthodox Edo setting of the show. The ED song of Samurai Champloo, "Shiki no Uta", is also one of my favourite ED song of all time.

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~ Roads were made for journeys; not destinations.

I hope this review was informative and helpful.

On one side of a brittle, canvas Shoji, lies a group of bandits—found in all shapes and sizes, though all donning the same, uniform black garments. Whispering to themselves in memorization the code of a true thief: to never kill, to never rape, and to never, ever steal from the poor whose earnings come from good work. More meaningless muttering occurs throughout the mob as they neatly organize their arsenal of tools; small daggers, picks for a lock, and of course their sharpened Katana—they don’t dare be spotted without one. On the other side of that same, brittle, canvas Shoji, lies a concealed troop of ... Samurais, all taking one deep, collective breath, in preparation for the Chief of the Arson Control, the “Onihei” himself, to swiftly kick down this same, brittle, canvas Shoji.

“This is Heizo Hasegawa of Arson Theft Control!” the chief bellows, with his two hands now grasped tightly around his own Katana in position to fight, with that brittle, canvas Shoji now in pieces beneath his foot, over the soft tatami mat.

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With a uniquely gorgeous artstyle, an electric jazz accompaniment and a historical setting rich with character, “Onihei” traverses the Edo period through a series of episodic, Law & Order-esque stories that are stylish, exciting, and occasionally quite meaningful.

I mentioned Law & Order—that’s what this show really is. Law & Order with Samurais. Maybe with a little emphasis on the “Order” side, but not entirely neglecting the morally grey situations and ethical dilemmas that go without saying when dealing with detective work. The story follows the Chief of the Arson Theft Control, Heizo Hasegawa (otherwise known by his demonic moniker “Onihei”) and the unique crimes, circumstances and people that he inevitably has to deal with being in a position of responsibility.

The advantage of setting this type of episodic “cop/detective’ show of sorts in the Edo period is that it’s able to offer more unique versions of stories that you’d typically find in a regular detective show. Episodes about past comrades of Heizo, episodes about Heizo befriending good-hearted criminals he’s supposed to be after, etc. are all disguised as wholly unique and original stories that you’ve never seen before, but in reality if you swapped out the Samurais for cops and Heizo for a detective they may seem more familiar again. There isn’t anything inherently wrong with that, in fact it’s a credit to the show’s writers for coming up with a concept like that; but it doesn’t make the stories any more special than they seem.

This isn’t to say Onihei is full of uninspired stories, that’s not even close to the reality of it. Even when you spot some pretty blatant cop/detective show tropes they’re still executed in more than satisfactory ways. And this is where Onihei excels as a show, its execution is usually very impressive. The maturity of the characters and by extension their dialogue allows the interactions and plot developments to bloom organically, without feeling too contrived or repetitive. This is crucial in a detective show such as Onihei, as the whole premise of solving mysteries in storytelling is to be believable, you can’t have inexplicably genius characters solve everything with some inhuman foresight, but you can have intelligent characters who solve mysteries with experience and simple attention to detail. And Onihei does a fantastic job of highlighting this.

The show may falter at times with regards to this, and the first episode is a perfect example of that. It’s clear they were trying very hard to not only introduce the context of the show within the first episode, but also get one episodic story out of the way. This of course resulted in the first episode being jampacked with content and action that just made the whole thing feel very heavy-handed, with inexcusably rapid character developments that did leave a lot to be desired.

Onihei also differentiates itself from that whole cop/detective dynamic by not being so exclusive to one side of the dichotomy. It’s not just a “who did it?” crime story every episode, sometimes it’s just a story about the life of a thief, sometimes there is no crime involved at all and it’s about Heizo’s family, etc. The show isn’t dedicated to only presenting stories about criminals and thieves, it’s dedicated to presenting stories that Heizo Hasegawa would have experienced. The show is about him and everything around him, it just happens that he’s the Chief of Arson Theft Control.

The content of Onihei’s individual stories also deserves recognition; the show could easily get away with embedding moderately complicated mysteries in each episode that Heizo solves with his wit and experience, but that would be playing it far too safe for a show with the kind of flare that Onihei has. During the Edo period, where laws are obviously more lax and authority less omnipotent, the number of “unique” crimes that are committed are at a tremendous volume—so with all the ethical dilemmas that naturally spawn from these situations, it would be a dumb oversight not to turn some of it into serviceable food for thought. With poetic lines of dialogue such as:

“At times we do evil things when intending to do good; And at time we do good things when intending to do evil—such is life.”

You can’t not think about that for a while. Is it really that profound? Probably not, but to find genuinely meaningful gems like this in a seemingly cheap detective show like Onihei, that’s operating on a shoestring budget, speaks volumes to the quality of writing the show possesses.

With that being said, consistency is an issue the show has. While it has its fair share of meaningful moments like that, often delving even into deeper territory with surprisingly accurate representations of heady topics like Stockholm syndrome and the long lasting effects of child abuse, it sometimes falls flat on its face. There are occassionally times where I feel like the show is trying to send a message to me, but often I just sit there thinking to myself what is the show trying to say? What’s the point of this episode? Is there even a point? It’s occasionally a bit aimless at times. For a show that peaks with realistic representations of potent psychological conditions, it sure can fall flat when it just serves up a filler-esque standalone story about a child Heizo used to know now being a thief.

The animation is straight up dreadful. If you were observant enough to notice me dropping the phrase “shoestring budget” earlier, this wouldn’t be that big of a surprise. It’s awful, and especially evident in the beginning episodes. CGI background characters that look creepily out of place, poorly drawn animations of running with limited frames, etc. the reality of the situation is that this is the first major TV show ever produced by studio “M2” and nobody gives enough fucks to sponsor this. Though, honestly, I’m not sure if either I got used to the dreadful animation or what, but I genuinely believe that the animators did a great job of covering up the bad animation. Without any second thoughts I have sat through entire episodes of Onihei, fully immersed, not noticing any wildly jarring animation errors that snap my immersion at all. And that’s a credit not only to the creativity of the staff for coming up with ways to disguise it it all, but also a credit to the uniquely gorgeous artstyle and the brilliant jazz orchestra composed of melodic flutes, brisk piano notes, smooth saxophones, classy trumpets and deep, humming drums. While the animation itself is subpar due to the clear low budget the studio received, the artstyle itself and the excellent soundtrack do a wonderful job of immersing you into the already enchanting, historical setting of the show, making you quickly ignore any minor animation funks that may otherwise break your immersion in a show absent of these two other great features.

Onihei is a show I personally enjoyed on multiple levels. It was not only very entertaining, often leaving me at the edge of my seat in anticipation and suspense, but its resolutions sometimes left me with some stimulative food for thought. And despite the mingy budget and poor animation, the art style itself and the soundtrack were well above amazing.

To see a show like Onihei in modern anime is inspiring. It’s not a stretch to say that most people would describe modern anime as generic and unoriginal, tropey, excessively pandering and all the other usual suspects. And is it really so wrong to say so? Just look at MAL’s “Seasonal Anime” tab up on the top—how many shows each season aren’t derivative off of something else, something better and more popular? How many shows each season are even remotely unique?

So when a show like Onihei—shoestring budget and all, with poor marketing outreach and poor distribution as well—is able to deliver something not only legitimately entertaining and meaningful, but fairly unique and creative as well, it gives me hope that there are some studios, however new and underfunded, that are willing to break away from the seemingly inescapable mold of anime that remorselessly copies and copies from within its own medium without any detectable iota of creative desire—creative desire to produce something truly unique and original.

I hope this review was informative and helpful.

If I had two words to describe Seiren, one would be “uninspired” and the other would be “bizarre”. I’ll be honest, I’m one of those consumers that values unquantifiable things like creativity, innovation and, if at the right time, something that pushes the boundaries of the medium.

I don’t expect all shows to have this sort of thing, after all part of why I value those things is because of their sparsity within the medium. More often than not I just come across shows that have varying extents of those things and that’s definitely serviceable; I’m not expecting every show I watch to be the next ... Mushishi or Millennium Actress. Every shows at least nudges some kind of boundary within the medium and that alone is usually somewhat entertaining to watch.

But let me just say that the only boundaries Seiren pushes are the number of fetishes it can pander to. Boobs and ass are the prerequisites, but legs, feet, navels, urophilia, coprophilia, plushophilia, exhibitionism, BDSM, and whatever the scientific term is for arousal from chicks that look like animals.

As I said before Seiren is bizarre, it’s this high school romance show with a mixture of issues that range from inherently poor writing to flatout awful production—the way these episodes are organized and put together don’t even work as a saving grace for the show. Hell even the art quality goes to shit quickly. But this incongruous mixture of issues pulls out a show with just some bizarre moments… Man, I consider myself to have a fairly strong command of the English language, but I can’t help but keep circling back to this same word. It’s not even bizarre in an overt fashion like JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure or anything, it’s just these subtle bizarrities that spawn from things like retconning or overall poor writing.

Characters who are introduced to be petty and resentful, and warned about with lines like “oh you don’t want to get on her bad side, otherwise all the girls in the school will be against you” suddenly turn into magnanimous priests who bestow forgiveness upon those whose sins include lying, betrayal and infidelity. Things like that could really be justified with a small shard of personality, but because of lack of oversight it’s not thought about at all, and when they play out towards the end of arcs it just comes off as bizarre.

Another example of a bizarrity within the show that really got me laughing was when Kamita nonchalantly pulls out a fucking PSP from his trousers and starts googling the meaning of words mid-conversation. Like, if the Googling of things mid-conversation isn’t strange enough, why is he doing it on a freakin PlayStation Portable? What happened to smartphones? Then it’s put away and never mentioned again. What the hell? Why include strange things that raise questions and not address them? Who goes to school with a PSP in their trouser pocket?

The shows omnipanderance also compounds onto its already bizarre subtleties, you’ll have a character walking down the street, seemingly musing an innocuous thought that actually turns out to be a BDSM-fetish fantasy, and it’s just dismissed as normal! Where does this come from!?

The protagonist Kamita is a pussy, for a lack of a better word. Actually, there are plenty of better words, but I’m gonna keep calling him a pussy because this major league dork will cum in his pants at the slightest interaction with a girl. Girl does his laundry? Girl brushes her arm against him? Girl shows her bellybutton? Oh this is too much! I’m gonna bust! I legitimately hate Kamita because he represents this trend of anime protagonists that collectively form a malignant tumor within the medium, metastasizing throughout each and every genre whilst promoting this “stuttering, breathless beta-male gets hot chicks” agenda of sorts that is honestly just dreadful. Seriously, fuck this guy.

The show’s 12 episodes are evenly divided into three separate arcs, all involving a different female lead, with the a convenient time reset after each arc ends. This division of episodes is much better in theory than it is in practice, because for some reason studio Gokumi thought it was logical to begin with the best girl and then just regress into more and more generic leads and arcs as the show progresses. The first girl Tsuneki is by far the best in the entire show as she possesses a rare trait the other girls do not: a distinct personality.

Tsuneki is unique and dynamic, a character that exudes confidence and terrifying levels of spontaneity, always keeping you on your toes and wary of her next actions. She’s frisky and intimate, and is a character you won’t easily find in any other high school romance show. What this show does with her and her arc is not only laughably bad, but also just straight up bizarre. After Tsuneki it’s all downhill, the female leads just become more and more generic as the show progresses.

The next girl is Tooru, that one girl who has a smooth voice, and is cool, calm and collected at most times. She’s also a gamer girl, which apparently constitutes “original” in the eyes of studio Gokumi.

The finale female lead, I think her name is Kyoko or something (who actually cares) is by far the most generic; it’s like the writers just gave up at this point. A soft-spoken, innocent childhood friend who’s only meaningful development is understanding that yes, taking a male, childhood friend to shop for lingerie with you is indeed weird, and so is asking him if those rose-coloured panties look good on you.

If you hadn’t already guessed it, one of Seiren’s biggest problems is, like many other anime, pacing. Four episodes doesn’t give anyone much room to work with when trying to develop a natural, romantic relationship between two leads. Trying to replicate something as special as the blooming of love takes care and time, it’s something that stems from allowing characters to bounce thoughts and emotions off of one another and letting intangible things like their chemistry develop naturally. The spontaneity of the first girl, Tsuneki, made that task marginally easier, but four episodes is simply not enough. It’s frankly a little depressing how they took a great character with a stellar character design and an outstanding voice actress and threw it all out the window by trying to rush her whole relationship with Kamita in four episodes.

Seiren is an uninspired, bizarre, clichéd high school romance show that manages to follow virtually every convention one would come to expect from the genre, only ever subverting it in unrealistic, often cringeworthy ways that leave you questioning the bizarrity of what you just watched. It is simply lame, pointless, represents many of the horrible trends in this medium and somehow adds onto that list with its incessant omni-pandering to fetishes. I wouldn’t recommend this show to anybody.

I hope this review was informative and helpful. And maybe got you to smile a bit as well.

Have you ever heard of the idiom “the one who got away”? To be fair, it’s akin more to a concept or a theme than just a phrase. It’s an idiom reflective of a disheartening reality that fortunately few people can relate to. It’s a concept expressed in many mediums, from music to film, but also anime. Growing pains, love over great distances and disillusion with the fantasy of love are all themes cut from this same cloth.

The phrase itself refers to the one previous partner whom a relationship was shared with, and for one circumstance or another things fell apart and it just didn’t ... work out. Over time, through a dreamlike reminiscence of past relationships, the thought dawns on you that this certain partner was the one for you all along. The realization that what could have been will no longer ever be is a devastating one. It’s lost love; a seemingly unmatchable emotional bond abruptly severed simply because life is unfair.

5CM/s is Makoto Shinkai’s loosely-episodic take on this concept. It follows the life of an individual who goes from a young boy to a well-worn man and the emotional bonds he shares with a couple of women in his life. It begins with his first love, at a very mild age, that ends up being “the one who got away”. Shinkai’s exploration of the blooming of “love” at a young age is mature and authentic. It is true that there are some monologues rife with illustrative imagery and blurry metaphors that are certainly a far cry from what a young child actually thinks, but the purpose of these monologues are to express how one feels at the time, not to be a literal verbatim representation of what he is thinking. The innocence in which the love initially flourishes all the way to its climax is always genuine.

Shinkai has stated that this theme of missed opportunities of love aren’t something he has directly experienced himself, but it hasn’t been something he’s formed from watching other films either. It is “just something that has come out of myself.” The film itself is the artistic embodiment of all of Shinkai’s ideas. It leaves no stone unturned, it’s meticulously crafted and produced to perfectly convey the core concept that he has been bouncing around his whole directorial career, since his 2002 prototype of “Voices of a Distant Star”. From the opening lines of the film to its abrupt ending, 5CM/s is tightly written for the sole purpose of conveying that one theme.

Shinkai’s works have been very polarizing within the community, a lot of his movies are founded on great concepts and heartfelt themes but the execution always leaves a lot to be desired (see: The Place Promised, Voices of a Distant Star). When his execution is great, he’s criticized for not being original enough, and is accused of borrowing the styles of other great directors instead of shaping his own (see: Children Who Chase Lost Voices). He often struggles to find the right balance between crafting a film that’s both well-produced and speaks to an original, meaningful theme that he cares about. 5CM/s is that balance. And to be clear, the movie itself is not specifically about “the ony who got away” or long-distance love. They are merely the catalysts of what the film is really about, and that is the situations that these causes bring to fruition, and the mundane, but heartfelt ways in which people deal with them.

5CM/s receives a lot of warranted criticism regarding the monotony of the characters. They’re often denoted by terms like “unrealistic”, “boring” and “whiny”. There’s also, in conjunction, criticism of the characters being too tedious as well. It’s fair criticism, I struggle to find solid arguments to refute it. The only leg that I could hope to stand on is stating that the characters are not the focus of the film. While there may be an impressive amount of poetic monologues, 5CM/s is not a character study solely exclusive to the individuals present in the story; the characters within the show simply exist to further the theme of lost love that Shinkai is pushing hard for. It’s up to the individual viewer to see how much it bothers them.

Titular motifs of cherry petals, metaphors with trains and the pathetic fallacy of the seasons are all fantastic extra cherries on top of the show that form the foundation of the film's writing on a technical level. There is a lot to be said about the cinematography and general framing of shots to include various things, but that would extend into a different written piece. It’s just worth noting that there is a lot of it within the film, whether or not you notice doesn’t matter much. The fact that it’s there speaks volumes to the scrupulous animation and the meticulousness of Shinkai himself; the amount of thought and care put into producing his magnum opus can never be understated.

The production is outstanding. The audiovisual experience makes the show worth watching alone. There are countless moments of mute panoramic shots over drawn backgrounds that exude potent emotions and demand your attention. Visually, it one of the most vibrant and gorgeous anime ever produced, and is only rivaled by other works by Makoto Shinkai himself. The soundtrack is similarly emotional, not overtly noticeable but conveys the feelings of the moment exceptionally well. It’s not something that blows you away while watching the film, but a listen to it own its own is breathtaking. The ending song, “One More Time, One More Chance” is a five-minute, aching cry for unrequited love sung over crisp guitar twangs that make for the perfect accompaniment to the film. It’s cathartic, and one of my favourite songs from the medium.

5CM/s is not for everyone. In fact, there are probably more people that this film is not for than there are it is. It’s slow-paced, often viewed as tedious and sometimes feels awfully aimless. It’s a film for those who’re able to relate to it on a personal level or appreciate the message it can convey. If you’re not able to do either, then the film will bore you, and the only way to find out whether or not it does is to experience it yourself. There is a lot of rumination over certain themes and topics, and if you’re not interested in them then you will take nothing away from watching the film. As a result I am always cautious of recommending it to people, even though it is one of my favourite films of all time.

5CM/s is special. It’s unique. It presents to you the illusory mundane life we live everyday but it accentuates the suppressed melancholic grandeur of it all with incredible directing, pathetic fallacy and outstanding production values. If you can resonate with it quickly, or can appreciate the film’s message early on, 5CM/s is a captivating, enriching and cathartic experience that won’t fleet your thoughts quickly. It will leave a long lasting mark.

In a medium with a romance genre saturated with high school settings, harems, trite characters, vapid conclusions and hackneyed narratives that all do their best to glorify the pursuit of love, 5CM/s offers a unique perspective that will surely ferment any content standard one would come to expect from the romance genre. The title doesn’t insult your intelligence with nonsensical and unfeasible events, it doesn’t insult your suspension of disbelief with outlandish female leads who blush and shy away at the slightest inclination of a compliment… 5CM/s is real. It is a vignette of the medium in its rarest, truest form of art; it’s awe-inspiringly beautiful and exists to express a passionate narrative. It is my favourite anime film, and while it may not appeal to everyone, I will be damned if I don’t express why I think it appealed to me.

I hope this review was informative and helpful.

Gi(a)rlish Number is certainly not the anime you think it is. Its sickeningly ideal group photo as the flagship header of the title would lead most seasonal anime consumers to think that the title is nothing other than another skin-deep value-less moe title that does nothing other than behave incessantly saccharine throughout its entire cour. Girlish Number couldn’t be farther from that reality, definitely not with Wataru Watari’s writing credits.

While Watari procrastinates indefinitely on releasing that highly anticipated yet elusive Volume 12 of OreGairu, he’s been keeping himself busy with other works such as Qualidea Code and this season’s Girlish Number. Typically when established writers ... deviate from their staple series and comfortable genres there tends to be a noticeable dip in quality; but is that the case with Girlish Number? Does this title fail to reach the heights Wataru’s other titles do? The answer is simple: no.

The first attractive feature of Girlish Number definitely is the cynicism of the characters. The only reason I picked this title up is because of a familiar author, and within five minutes of the first episode, Wataru’s cynical character writing stuck out like a sore thumb, and it was amazing. Every single character in this show is despicable. Petty, jaded, distrustful, two-faced… there aren’t enough descriptors out there to perfectly paint how morally disgusting these characters are, and I find myself hooked. This title is filled with those stupidly beautiful yet equally stupid group of teenage girls peppered in every high school that say “wow girl, you look hot as hell today!” only to think to themselves “I can’t believe this bitch wore that today! What a slut!”

As amusing as that comparison is, it should paint a good picture as for the type of characters there are in Girlish Number. On paper, they are not likeable characters; they’re everything we’re raised not to be like. Yet, because in the real world nobody is as idealistically perfect as they’d like to be, the brutal (and maybe even excessive) honesty of these characters is refreshing and, by extension, likeable.

Though don’t be fooled into thinking this show is some sort of one-trick wonder, with only the cynicism of the characters to justify my score of 7; no, there is far more to it. In fact, the whole cynicism appeal to the show is exploited and frankly dried up by the third to fourth episodes. More than the excessive honesty of the characters, Girlish Number is a show about growth. Growth of character. It’s a huge part of the show, almost everyone in the cast is clearly stagnant at a point in their lives—or rather, careers—and Watari explores the ball and chain that holds them back, as well as what they do to sever them.

The show is set in the Seiyuu industry, a facet of the anime-production industry that while is popularized by the number of idols within it, the specifics of it still remain blurry. And Girlish Number explores that in great depth as well, exposing the disdain held by Seiyuu against Light Novel authors (otherwise known as “people who don’t have the talent to sing, draw or dance trying to cling to the industry”); exposing that nobody cares about the ED song and all the glory is in the OP song; exposing the cutthroat competition to stay active in the voice acting industry, and far more subtleties that are engaging to learn about. It’s also worth mentioning the finesse in which Girlish Number exposes these things, there is no explicit, talking-to-the-viewer breaking the fourth wall exposition nonsense (looking at you Yuri on Ice), nor is there that one dumb character who has to get everything explained to them as a form of exposition. The exposition is nested within the dialogue of the characters and Wataru trusts the audience will be smart enough to pick up on these things.

Furthermore and finally, Girlish Number does a great job of capturing and exploring all the nuances that come when working in any workplace environment. Professionalism, imitation, flattery, achievement, satisfaction, and a lot more concepts are all also explored. Characters who do not take their job seriously, characters who do not work hard and slack off, characters who socially engineer their way into friend circles, characters who find enrichment in their duties—these are all people who you could find, and probably have found, in any working environment. It goes without saying of course, but the occupational hazards that come with being a voice actress/actor are also revealed through the show’s runtime.

The visuals are superb. Vibrant, memorable colours that couldn’t be more appropriate. The sickeningly optimistic colour palette juxtaposes exceptionally well with the inherent cynicism and diluted melancholy present at any given moment.

Girlish Number is perfect for viewers who seek something a little different; it’s not extravagantly unique, but it’s unique enough to be always engaging. The pessimism of the characters is charming, the exploration of an unknown industry absorbing, the nuances of a workplace relatable, and the growth of character heartfelt. It’s a pleasant show, one that highlights Wataru’s character writing and versatility, and one that sheds some long overdue light on a concept and industry that’s so interesting it’ll make you question why something like this wasn’t already made before.

I hope this review was informative and helpful.

One of the reasons why I find the anime medium as alluring as I do is in part because of its inherent creativity. This may sound strange, considering that the general consensus amongst heavy consumers of the medium is that most modern anime is rife with trite, overused tropes and overused storylines. Carbon copies of previous successes, duplicates of tried and tested formulas that end up feeling vapid, lifeless, and downright boring.
But I insist, the anime medium is special and unique, and full of so many original ideas that have inspired a variety of award-winning, blockbuster hits in the west. From Satoshi Kon inspiring ... the likes of Inception, to Mamoru Oshii inspiring the likes of the Matrix, regardless of the state of anime today, it’s undeniable that the medium is capable of ideas that may never be conceived in the west.

And Keijo is one such idea.

Honest with its absurdity and rife with boob and booty shots, Keijo is very entertaining. Despite what its Twitter page would like to persuade you to believe (>Keijo is a serious sports drama) the show’s first and foremost priority is nothing other than to entertain you. If you find the show boring then that’s fine, but it’s unfair to criticize the show for lacking ‘depth of character’ or impacting the ‘history of the medium’ when the show is not trying to do either of those things. I’m writing this seemingly conclusive denouement at the beginning of my review because Keijo’s honest simplicity makes it nonsensical to criticize the show for anything other than whether or not it was entertaining. If you found it entertaining, then the show did it’s job and nothing I or anyone writes in a review can change that.

The same way Food Wars is practically One Piece disguised as cooking show, Keijo is also a battle shounen disguised as a… well, Keijo show. As Food Wars tends to abandon all logic as often as it wants, Keijo does the same (as if it’s premise is not illogical enough). Vacuum Butt Cannons, titty hypnosis, asses harder than steel, booby lasers, butt stands, whatever you can imagine this show will match that. It’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s utterly perverted. It’s also a ton of fun, and really, that is all that can be asked and expected from this show. As long as it delivers that much, then what’s the harm?

The characters are as trite as they can get, but honestly what else would you expect? Color-coded archetypes peppered in at every corner of the show never challenge your expectations. A black-haired, outgoing and air-headed female protagonist; a white-haired, calm, collected and cool-headed supporting character; a brown-haired, talented but awfully conservative country girl; a blonde-haired, big-breasted overtly sexual upper echelon of the Keijo school… and so on so forth. The writers are incredibly transparent with their intentions and often shy away from offering you a character arc that shows any semblance of heart.

Referring back to what their Twitter page would like you to believe (>Keijo is a serious sports drama), the drama aspect of the show is laughable, and should never once be taken seriously. As soon as you do so, you’ll lose out on enjoying the show. The drama facet of the story is shoehorned into the narrative in order to haphazardly construct a meaningful conflict, but you’ll be naive to buy into it and take it as seriously as the show wants you to.

Since the show is already securing itself as the best fully-fledged out purely fan-service title, why not take the time parody other titles too? Attack on Buttitans, Gilgamesh’s Gate of Bootylon, Keijo leaves no show untouched and it’s hilarious! Drawing on meta-humour like that and parodying some of the most popular franchises in the medium only further drives home how entertaining Keijo is.

The animation is rather memorable, I especially love the color palette as I find it quite appealing. The drawing of the cast’s booties and bosoms is also rather accurate, sans the occasional chest monstrosity present of course. A lot of thought was put into the sound design as well, when boobs cut the air and butts collide, the sounds are impactful, and do a great job of conveying the true, earth-shattering force in which their pudenda metaphorically cross. As far as the audiovisual experience goes, I didn’t notice any glaring problems and found it to be a smooth visual experience.

All that really matters when watching Keijo is whether or not you enjoy yourself. Did you smile a bit? Did you get playfully aroused? Did it eventually force a chuckle out of you? Answered yes to any of these? Then the show is more than fine. I certainly wouldn’t recommend this to anyone excessively conservative and nor would I recommend this to anyone with negative preconceived notions of the anime medium, but to a field-tested, seasoned anime veteran who’s simply looking to enjoy their anime consumption, then Keijo couldn’t be more of a first choice.

I hope this review was informative and helpful.

Ahh, Daft Punk; easily one of my all time favourite musicians. Up until now I’ve considered myself a reasonably massive fan of theirs, but that has temporarily changed as I have now discovered something that I should have long known before—they have an anime feature. I didn’t even find out about this by browsing their Wikipedia page, or looking at random Daft Punk facts, but rather, by randomly entering their name into MAL’s search engine on a whim. I mean, Kanye goddamn West is on here, so what’s stopping my other favourite artists on here? I casually type in Gabrielle Aplin, John Legend, Drake… nothing, ... until “Instant Crush” starts playing on my Spotify playlist, and I decide to type “Daft Punk” in… and bam, I discover Interstella555.

The film is essentially an hour-long music video of Daft Punk’s entire Discovery (2001) album, which is arguably their magnum opus and my second favourite album of theirs. Discovery is officially recognized by many as a concept album, so this hour-long feature could theoretically be viewed as the concept coming to fruition. A collaboration with Toei Animation and director Matsumoto Leiji comes a wacky, vivid and audibly perfect hour-long anime that any Daft Punk fan should definitely watch.

Narrative-wise, it’s pretty straightforward, and often feels quite empty. It follows the events that happen after a famous alien music band consisting of avatar-blue humanoids with mustard-yellow hair get kidnapped by a wealthy and greedy business mongol who intends on stealing their music to sell it to the people on Earth. You could probably scrutinize the visuals for hours and pull out some subliminal poppycock, but in reality, it’s just there to serve as a visual surrogate for your imagination as you listen to the outstanding soundtrack. The entire film plays all the songs in DP’s Discovery, in order of the tracks in the album—meaning the widely successful and well-known “One More Time” is the opening track of this feature. There are way too many tracks to cover all, so I’ll review all the notable ones in short one-liner sentences:

“One More Time” is definitely a favourite of mine from theirs and immediately starts this feature off at a very high note, it’s catchy chorus and trademark Daft Punk dance beat immediately keeps you hooked and bobbing your head; the second track, “Aerodynamic”, has these exhilarating electric guitar chords to keep emotion high as the extraterrestrial band scrambles for safety; the fourth track, “Harder Better Faster Stronger”, a song that frankly needs no introduction. Popularised by Kanye West’s sampling in “Stronger”, I guarantee that anyone who listens to any amount of music has ran across this song once before; the sixth track, “Night Vision”, with its subtle, slow and soothing notes with surprisingly expressive emotion soaks its respective scene with everything it needs to leave an impression; “Something About Us”, the 9th track of the album, and hands down my favourite song from the whole project. Its extremely enjoyable beat and ironic chorus about love spoken from a robotic tone will surely leave you echoing the refrain; and finally, the last notable track of the feature, “Veridis Quo”. Something so special about this that voids all plausible descriptors I can come up with for it—it’s just something you have to listen to for yourself.

Overall: 7/10 || Enjoyment: 8/10

Daft Punk make mostly electronic music, and were part of the French house movement in the 90s. Their innovative usage of synthesizers and real life instruments set themselves apart from all the other French house producers of their time, and their superb blends of a smorgasbord of genres make their music easily accessible to almost all individuals. While you may not like “Something About Us” as much as I did, you probably found “Get Lucky” catchy, or the Weeknd’s new “Starboy” enjoyable as well—Daft Punk are one of those rare artists that have a little something for just about everyone.

I sometimes find it difficult to express my love for Daft Punk effectively, and sometimes I feel like it’s not necessarily because the right words don’t come to me, but more so that people are quick to dismiss them as your generic DJ whose music is “lifeless”, “repetitive”, and “all sounds the same”. Maybe I can agree to a certain extent sometimes, I mean, no way am I not going to call Robot Rock or Veridis Quo not “repetitive”, but there is a certain intricacy and delicacy in Daft Punk’s music that make them so special to me, and so different from all the other DJs I hear about in the media these days. Random Access Memories is my favourite Daft Punk album, but Discovery is second only by a very small margin; the trippy and vivid visuals of this music video brought to life by Toei Animation have done Discovery justice as far as PMVs go, I think. There’s just something about this.

I hope this review was informative and helpful.

A lot of anime each season tends to adapt material from a different medium. Manga, light novels, videogames, and sometimes even visual novels. Of all of them, a visual novel is arguably the hardest to adapt. Why, you ask? Since visual visuals novels tend to have branching narratives with multiple possible storylines and alternate endings, it’s difficult to simply “choose” one to adapt or adapt the “right” one and pull out a good anime from.
Decisions made by the player during the game compound on top of one another and can eventually change which storypath the VN goes down and lead to an alternate ending. ... It’s not uncommon for VNs to have well over 5 alternate endings, so when it comes to adapting it to anime, how does it actually work out? How do you adapt multiple story lines into one 13 or 26 episode anime?

In the case of Steins;Gate, studio White Fox decided to adapt a “true ending” route, which is the route that tied up the most loose ends and had the most satisfying ending. In the case of Fate/stay night, studio ufotable and studio DEEN both adapted two out of the three distinct routes from the original VN, and next year studio ufotable will adapt the final route in a trilogy of films titled “Heaven’s Feel”. So when it comes to Rewrite, a commercially successful and critically acclaimed visual novel with around 5 distinctive routes, what does studio 8bit decide to do? Well of course, fuse half of them into one monumental mess!

Adapting a VN is hard enough, so why does 8bit try and make it harder for themselves by blending multiple stories into one? The original alternate story lines are alternate for a reason; they are purposefully set as different playable routes for the player because of their distinctive nature. The main character, Kotarou, forms different and unique relationships with each of the supporting characters in their respective routes, so what happens when you blend half of them into one? Disharmony is what happens. Unevenness. Asymmetry. A narrative that isn’t well-rounded nor that has a clear and defined goal is what is produced. I can say with sufficient surety that nobody watching Rewrite as it was airing (without prior knowledge from the visual novel) was able to understand what the main conflict or goal was that was present in the story. Studio 8bit’s unreasonably resolute determination to adapt a careless fusion of routes spawns a monstrosity of an anime that forces its viewers into a submission of perplexity.

Rewrite’s disjointed narrative overflows with a smorgasbord of elements that just don’t click with one another. Slice of life moments, pseudo-harem elements, convoluted supernatural magic powers and giant CGI monsters that will more often that not leave you bewildered and lost rather than intrigued. The stakes are raised to unfathomably unreachable heights, but it is difficult to grasp them tightly enough to take seriously, what with all the convoluted magic stuff and the irrepressible escalation of “what the fuck” moments.

The problems arisen from the show that materialize from its poor adaptation are mostly contained and limited to the first half, in which Kotarou forms and develops his relationships with the all-female supporting cast he’s constantly surrounded by (hence, “pseudo-harem elements”). Originally, Kotarou is supposed to develop separate and unique relationships with all the girls individually, but since 8bit decided that “just didn’t cut it”, Kotarou insteads fleshes out relationships with only half of the cast. This results in back-to-back episodes expanding on Lucia and Shizuru’s backstories (“sob stories” would technically be the more accurate term) that collectively feel episodic in nature and superficial in execution. It’s very obvious, almost as if explicitly implied, that the show just had to find a way to squeeze in these two character’s backstories because those were part of the routes 8bit decided to fuse together. No real respect is offered towards the rest of the cast, they all feel like plot devices used to escalate the narrative towards the back stories of the two. This lack of authenticity makes the show and characters mechanical and robotic, the only characters that you can empathize with are the two the show force their backstories into.

Now of course, the poor adaptation isn’t to blame alone. The original narrative of the Rewrite visual novel has its fair share of innate problems that deserve a respectable portion of the blame as well. The narrative of Rewrite shifts its focus from cute girls, high school club goals, supposedly heart wrenching sob stories and then finally sets it sights on world destruction and human extinction. How can it all connect? Where is the delicacy in execution? Earlier I said the show had an irrepressible escalation of “what the fuck” moments. This isn’t an escalation of say, running up a set of staircases dangerously fast like a frantic 10-year-old who’s been suppressing his bladder all day; it’s more like a clinically insane and frenetic individual rocket jumping from the CN tower to the moon, only because the moon “looked cool”. Shifting from cute girls doing cute things to a commentary on the nature of humanity and world destruction is already a pretty implausible change in tone, but actually not entirely impossible.
What Rewrite lacks is a sense of scale. It starts small, with a comfortable high school setting and fictional city within its reach, which disallows room for expansion of tackling immensely bigger topics and more impactful themes and premises; it started with a small scale, when it should have started with a large one and focused on a small part of it; It outlined and gave away little information, when it should have outlined a lot and gave only a small part of it. If it did those things it would transform its irrepressible escalation of “what the fuck” moments into an irrepressible escalation of “oh, that’s how it connects. Awesome!” moments.

So how could they have adapted it properly? While we’re asking that question, let’s go a little broader. How can an anime adapt its source material properly? Well, the answer is simple: with care. Just care. A little attention to detail here, a little improvisation there, and maybe, just maybe, they’ll be able to translate a possibly great work into an equally great medium.

Overall: 3/10 || Enjoyment 4/10

Amongst many avid visual novel players unlike myself, Rewrite is beloved. Talked and praised about endlessly, news of its anime adaption left its near-obsessive fans with a bloated sense of ecstasy; just think, the joy of having something you truly love with all your heart being reshaped into the medium that you love just as much… It’s an unfathomable state of euphoria, albeit if funnily enough trivial, that just can’t be achieved by other things in life. Nothing else raises people’s moods quite like that. There is a “but” though, and it exists because of a studio’s lack of care; not to say studio 8bit didn’t necessarily care for the work, but more so the evident absence of care in execution that can be seen by anyone who’s experienced both the visual novel and the anime adaptation. This execution that lacks finesse and charm unfortunately forces Rewrite to join its brothers and sisters in the collection of anime grouped as “the source material was much, much better.”

I hope this review was informative and helpful.

There are two types of anime I consider a “5”: those with an equal force of determinants and merits, and those that follow a formulaic and mediocre narrative used quite often. The difference is that shows described by the former are usually on the negative side, whereas shows described by the latter can still be a good watch; Konobi is the latter.

Produced by studio feel (who’ve brought the likes of OreGairu and Kiss x Sis) comes “This Art Club has a Problem!”, a hilarious, lighthearted rom-com with emphasis on “com”; Seriously, this show is funny. Definitely one of the greatest strengths of this show is ... that it knows how every other rom-com plays out and instead of trying to simply be another one, it adds a couple pivotal twists to the setup and focuses more on the comedy aspect, making this show a unique and refreshing rom-com yet still allowing itself to be held back by the limitations of its genre-type.

Konobi follows the story of a cute middle schooler, Mizuki, and the exploits that follow as she pursues her die hard crush on Uchimaki Subaru. This is where the first pivotal twist comes into play. Subaru is a certified otaku, the only girls he’s interested in are what he calls, “2D girls”; yes, Subaru has 17+ waifus. No joke. The second twist is not so much a twist but a unique way of keeping things fresh, it’s the setting: an art club. The only reason Subaru is in the Art Club of his middle school is so that he has the means to paint his 2D waifus day after day. Now imagine the struggles that Mizuki is accompanied by when she tries to pursue her crush on a man who’s only interest is in anime and manga girls. It can only be hilarious, right? This twist to the genre and premise sets up a plethora of extremely funny gags that surprisingly, aren’t a hit and miss.

The reason the gags aren’t a hit and miss because unlike many other comedy-centric shows, it doesn’t rely on slapstick/chibi humour or what I like to call, “reaction humour”; reaction humour is a show’s attempt to make the viewer laugh by having its characters react to something absurd in an overblown and eccentric fashion. The reason reaction humour is almost always a hit and miss is because since it’s unpredictable and comes out of nowhere, it literally either hits your funny bone or misses it. While Konobi does have humour like this, it is never solely reliant on it. Rather, Konobi constructs its gags around a specific physical or abstract object (e.g. ruining someone’s painting and covering it up), and the humour is pulled from the anticipation of how the characters will eventually interact, react, and deal with the object. The humour is not wholly “predictable”, but on some level you build an anticipation in your mind about the end result, and when the show either matches or subverts your expectation it’s funny regardless. The hilarity that ensues throughout the show is never consistently funny, there will always be a couple gags that may very well not entertain you, but for the most part the show’s humour is well above average in terms of consistency of quality. Whenever you have a show with an overabundance of jokes it is a given that some may turn out being predictable and occasionally seem lackluster.

The romance element of the show is heavily downplayed, and rightfully so. Its consistent comedic and lighthearted nature wouldn’t dare allow for serious and touching scenes of romance. Every time it seems as if Mizuki is about to move from a platonic relationship with Subaru to a romantic one, it’s always just another setup to prey on and make light of Mizuki’s naive and earnest pursual of Subaru. Many of the show’s episodes are divided into 2 parts, with each part following the exploits of another character or another subplot; this division sometimes makes the show feel episodic but the events that happen always impact the characters and their surroundings, so there is a sense of continuity throughout the story. This division of episodes into comedic shorts greatly compliments the pacing as well, things never unnecessarily drag out and the viewer won’t ever feel bored through repetition.

The characters are just… there, they all have their own contrasting personalities but they can still just be summed up in one liners, for the most part. This is perfectly fine, considering that the show never tries to be a super realistic revolutionary romance story, it’s just a gag show, so as long as the characters are likeable and funny, for all practical purposes they can be considered “good” characters.

Studio Feel are really upping their animation game; this show has dazzling visuals. Just the first episode alone has this breathtaking scene where Subaru is drawing Mizuki in the art club room, with shimmering sunset light beaming through the window, enveloping the entirety of the comfy art room in a warm, cozy colour palette that is just captivating to gaze at. With subtle, meticulous and distinct dust particles drifting through the air in a carefree manner as well, studio Feel brought this show to life. With Konobi added to their resume and OreGairu Season 2’s scrupulous character animations, they’re well on their way to approaching Kyoto Animation level beauty.

The voice acting is pretty standard as far as anime goes, but one thing that should be noted is that Ozawa Ari, the voice actor of our protagonist Mizuki, also voiced Sakura from the equally hilarious show Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun. Coincidentally enough, both shows are actually fairly similar in terms of plot, so if you liked Gekkan Shoujo I cannot recommend Konobi enough. The soundtrack for the most part is again, pretty standard, but there are a couple tracks that are surprisingly distinct and potent. They add a sense of emotion to all the scenes and make the whole experience just a little bit more enjoyable overall.

Enjoyment: 7/10

Despite the show not being anything spectacular, it is fairly memorable. I was entertained a lot, I laughed a lot, I found Mizuki cute a lot, and amongst other things I was able to leave this show satisfied with and happy overall. The gorgeous visuals, the surprisingly potent soundtrack and then strong voice acting left a reasonable impression on me as well.

Overall: 5.5/10

Again, the show does nothing spectacular, but with a couple amusing twists to the rom-com setup it allows for a solid and entertaining watch throughout. I’d recommend this to anyone into who likes both romance and comedy, but usually prefers the latter over the former. For similar titles, again, I’d recommend Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun.

I hope this review was informative and helpful.

Genericism is a very interesting thing. Shows we label “generic” are almost always inferior, so it is only natural to wonder why every season, without fail, there is an overabundance of them. One of the most common symptoms of genericism is that you can easily predict more things than should be predicted simply by taking a glance at the synopsis or poster. You might take one look at Taboo Tattoo’s poster and promptly dismiss it as generic, but I’m here to tell you that it is not. It may seem like it, it may start of like it, but no, I assure you, it isn’t; ... nay, it is much, much worse than anything you’ve ever dismissed before as “generic”. If you would be oh so kind to indulge me, let me explain to you to the glorious calamity that is Taboo Tattoo.

Taboo Tattoo is the asinine abomination of a show produced when a poorly written, generic sub-par show tries to make fun of itself; it’s like if Sword Art Online tried to be Konosuba. It tries to be self-aware and become a parody of other shounen action anime but relies way too heavily on the tropes and clichés it is trying to subvert—it just feels like it doesn’t know what it wants to be. Now once you top it off with over excessive incessant fan service and wish fulfillment and drastic changes of tone and atmosphere multiple times in an episode, you get the worst show this season. The worst part is, unfortunately, that this show is not bad enough to be considered good.

The show’s beginning is as generic as it can get, seemingly nothing different from anything else you’ve seen before. It’s got your starter pack of shounen action anime tropes

Begins with unexplained fight scene ✓
Beta-male randomly given mysterious power ✓
Said power is the strongest one ✓
MC is the “perfect match, almost like a god-sent” for that said power ✓
Childhood friend (with obvious crush on MC) MC must protect ✓
Evil organization after MC’s power ✓
Killer lolis ✓
Fan-service (massive bouncing boobs, panty shots, low angle shots) ✓
Yuri action ✓
Tentacle groping ✓

But from this bland and overdone setup the show manages to transcend itself above the descriptor of “generic” and enter a new realm of inferiority that is rarely ever reached in the medium. There are an innumerous amount of things that make this show difficult to consider “good” let alone “mediocre”, I’m not even sure where to begin.

The plot progression is unreasonable with oddly placed fight scenes and illogical character motivations. The events that happen are so bland and simple that it’s paradoxically difficult to suspend my belief. The main character, Seigi, really just gets his Taboo Tattoo power after saving Dr. Wiseman (yes, that’s really his name) from getting beaten up by a couple of thugs. How and why was he getting beaten up? Good question, never answered. Why does Seigi defend this man and potentially risk his life? Good question, thinly answered.

The show then proceeds to nonchalantly introduce a country that doesn’t exist in real life, and not once does it ever expand on it in a more meticulous fashion, because who really cares about world building? The Tattoo power is explained using convoluted logic that boils down to “it’s magic” that is so unimaginative in nature that the show would actually have been better off leaving it unexplained. New abilities of that Tattoo power are suddenly introduced with little explanation and things just escalate into ludicrousy of epic proportions.

The wish fulfillment aspect of this show cannot be emphasized enough; everything that happens is some sort of wish fulfillment or the other. Without spoiling anything, there is literally a scene where Touko, or how I like to call her, BigBoobs-chan, goes to meet Seigi, or MC-kun. MC-kun is passed out in his Grandfather’s dojo and BigBoobs-chan sits next to and watches over him. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a pale red blush overtakes BigBoobs-chan’s face as she promptly muses to herself “it is a woman’s shame to ignore a man offering himself!” and proceeds to lean over MC-kun, confining him between both her legs and arms. What BigBoobs-chan (who is a middle schooler, mind you) was trying to accomplish, I can’t for the life of me figure it out. Anyway, naturally, MC-kun wakes up at this time and says “BigBoobs-chan?” another blush, this time maroon red, invades BigBoobs-chan’s face and she, in embarrassment, stops leaning over MC-kun and sits down. But where does she sit down? Of course, it has to be on MC-kun’s groin! Because who really cares anymore? This is just one of the scenes I have mentioned, there are even more titillating and salacious scenes throughout the show as well (token tentacle groping scene included), so if you’re into this kinda thing I’ll just tell you to go for it.

This unrestrained wish fulfillment naturally leads to an overabundance of fan-service. Now, of course, as present in almost every single anime, there is fan-service. The only reason I am discussing it is because of how abundant it is. Literally, there will be at least a couple dozen fan-service scenes per episode. Yeah, you read that right, per episode. The worst part? It is never limited to solely basic fanservice stuff like panty/butt/cleavage shots of likes, no, it is more like straight up girl on girl action. Of course, there is a difference between “fanservice” and expressing a character’s “sexuality” but nobody behaves like our Yuri-loving princess antagonist, Aryabhata. She will straight up grope her loli companions out of nowhere, randomly getting prepared to sleep with them numerous times throughout the show. Again, if you’re into this kinda thing, I’ll just tell you to go for it.

It is nearly impossible to review the characters because they barely qualify to be called so.

Seigi is just a distressingly bland “I want to be a hero of justice” archetype with zero personality outside that; in short, he is a self-insert. The only development he receives is contrived and at the cost of reducing other characters to plot devices.

Touko is the “I want to be with my childhood friend no matter what!” archetype, and outside of her big boobs, she is nothing but the waifu for the self-insert.

Bluesy Fluesy—I kid you not, that is really her name—is just a trained and skilled soldier trapped in a middle schooler’s body, because this show wouldn’t be complete without an underage female who’s prepubescent panties we will never see enough of.

Blood Blackstone (or BB), the only decently written character in the show (not saying much). Compared to the rest of the cast he’s more complex than a labyrinth and more deep than than BigBoobs-chan’s cleavage. His character backstory is engrossing enough to keep you invested as well (one of the better episodes of the show).

One of the antagonists, Aryabhatta, is a prideful princess who’s also a lesbian and sexually promiscuous, as she readily and regularly gropes her loli companions in good fun.

I suppose I should also mention how this show degrades their female characters, not that many viewers really care, but I feel obligated to mention it.

Hm? What’s that? “What about the other characters?” Nah, these are the only “characters” that are involved in this show. One thing I can compliment the show for is that it isn’t afraid to do stuff other action shounens wouldn’t normally do, like killing of major characters and severely injuring others. Even this is done in a forced way (killing characters in stupid ways) but I have to give credit where credit is due; the removal of certain characters certainly made things a little bit more interesting.

This show is also very ostentatious. Taboo Tattoo tries to explore ideas concerning “justice” and how it is perceived differently depending on position of the person; this leads to the show suddenly humanizing comically evil villains in a very heavy handed approach. The show is never subtle with its themes, moments are contrived in an obtuse manner just to culminate in a preach given by a character on the “delicacy of justice” and how “I won’t stop others from their own justice”. And again, as I mentioned, the show also tries to be satirical and often pokes fun at regular storytelling tropes—so how can it try and have resonant themes about justice? The two just don’t click together.

Literal forced drama, never seen emotional catharsis from characters in a show more contrived than this. Characters that are seemingly unrelated suddenly reveal to be in strong platonic or romantic relationships with one another and expel more cringe inducing lines of dialogue like “you never change” out of nowhere. The jarring tonal shifts in the show are consistently present in here as well, as one moment will be some serious (yet boring) exposition scene and suddenly the music accompaniment changes to slow, sad piano music as one of the characters suddenly talks about how much he/she missed the character.

Drama and problems that arise in the beginning episodes (and are resolved) suddenly come out of nowhere during conversations because the writer doesn’t know how to form real dialogue between characters. “Is it okay if we stay together?” is said multiple times throughout the show, for no reason other than to contrive some unnecessary and predictable drama between characters that achieves nothing. There are no character dynamics whatsoever, every conversation bounces between either exposition or some unfunny joke.

The animation is unremarkable, the character designs are generic and bland, the colour palette is unnecessarily monotonous, the fight choreography is annoyingly inconsistent, yadda yadda yadda. It has its moments with insane CG cinematography where the camera pans around in all sorts of degrees, but those are few and far between.

Enjoyment: 4/10

If you liked the abundance of action scenes, the Tattoo as a superpower, and the whole concept of good vs evil organizations clashing, then I’d point you to Bungou Stray Dogs. It’s far from exceptional by all means but does everything Taboo Tattoo tries to do a bit better, which unfortunately isn’t saying much but overall Bungou Stray Dogs is the better version. If you enjoyed the moments when the show pathetically tried to be satirical, then I’d point you to One Punch Man (but let’s be honest, who hasn’t seen this already).

Overall: 2/10

Taboo Tattoo is very impressive in its own right. It is honestly difficult to write a show that can pierce this untapped sphere of atrocity, not even inexperienced and first time authors can write shows this bad. It feels like the writer of Taboo Tattoo was intentionally trying to create a story that was B-level, schlock entertainment, but like I said in the beginning of the review, this show is just not that bad enough to be considered good. Maybe if it didn’t take itself so seriously, or it was more consistent with its self-awareness and poking fun at action anime tropes, then it would have been a great satirical parody of the shounen genre; but no, unfortunately Taboo Tattoo is just the perfectly well-rounded package of trash.

I hope this review was informative and helpful.