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Oshi no Ko: Season 2 – The "Wait, What Happened to the Plot?" Edition

Stunning visuals? Check. Character development? On point. The way they cleverly visualized the characters' mental gymnastics and emotional breakdowns? Chef’s kiss. But oh boy, did the main plot vanish like a magician’s rabbit! Remember that little thing called "Who killed Hoshino Ai?" Yeah, they briefly glanced over that like it was an afterthought. The whole "murder mystery and revenge" angle? Poof! Gone. Instead, we got served with a buffet of side stories. Yawn.

Yes, the art style is memorable, and you can see the passion poured into the over-the-top creative sequences. The direction? ... Nice. Music? It’s there. And the animation? Well, let’s just say the wacky scenes were more of a rollercoaster ride than the actual plot. I mean, who doesn’t love a little chaos with their anime?

Then there’s Ruby. Oh sweet Ruby. We saw her, like, what, twice? Both times, she adds about as much to the plot as a decorative pillow to a sinking ship. But hey, at least Akane's character is thriving. Watching her develop is probably the most satisfying part of this season—props to her.

But let’s talk about what Oshi no Ko should be doing. Aqua was supposed to be investigating Ai’s murder and planning his big, dramatic revenge. Ruby was supposed to be kicking off her idol journey with B Komachi. But nope, we’re stuck watching a stage play for 80% of the season. Seriously, if I wanted a generic showbiz anime, I’d watch... literally any other showbiz anime. The story barely advances the plot from the last season, and this could have been a standalone filler season—plotholes and all.

Season one grabbed us with murder, vengeance, and dark showbiz twists. That’s what made Oshi no Ko stand out. But this season? It’s like the show got distracted by its own reflection. Sure, the entertainment industry critique is still sharp, but it tiptoes around the actual story, leaving us with yet another love triangle. Because nothing says "revenge and murder mystery" like awkward romantic drama, right? (Sigh.)

So yeah, if you're here for the murder-mystery revenge plot, maybe check back next season. Or never.

If there’s one thing Tasogare Out of Focus does with lightning speed, it’s making characters fall in love faster than you can say "BL tropes, assemble!" Seriously, these guys go from zero to heart-eyes emoji in the blink of an episode. It’s like they skipped the whole "awkward flirting" phase and went straight to the "confess undying love" marathon. Talk about skipping steps – even a cooking show gives more time for things to simmer!

And hold onto your hats, folks, because apparently, characters here can switch their orientation faster than a Netflix algorithm suggests new shows. Mao, who was supposed to be as straight as ... a laser pointer, suddenly takes a U-turn to Rainbow Road overnight. It’s like they hit the turbo button on character development – blink and you’ll miss the plot twist!

Now, onto the visual feast. Sure, the character designs are distinct, but why do they stick to BL character design 101? It’s like they measured each strand of hair with a protractor. Where’s the fluidity, the creativity? Other anime dare to dream, but here it’s like they’re playing it safe with a ruler and a compass. Moderate at best, they could’ve spiced it up with a dash of "wow" instead of sticking to the same-old, same-old.

As for the storyline, buckle up for a rollercoaster of mediocrity. If you were expecting intricate plots and subtle character development, think again. It’s like they gave Sasaki to Miyano a run for its money in the "blink-and-you-miss-it" category. Even the characters themselves need a breather after confessing their love – maybe they should take a vacation and come back when the pacing catches its breath.

In conclusion, Tasogare Out of Focus serves up a dish of rushed romance, rigid character designs, and a plot thinner than the paper it’s drawn on. If you’re in the mood for a speed-dating session masquerading as a love story, this might just be your cup of tea. Just don’t expect to savor the flavors – it’s more of a gulp-and-go anime experience.

If you’re thinking about watching Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi, there are two possible reasons: either you’re in the mood to switch your brain off and let the story carry you wherever it pleases, or you’re scraping the bottom of the anime barrel and this happens to have romance, fantasy, and food—so why not, right? Spoiler: you'll soon regret it.

Let's start with the good stuff, or what's left of it. The opening and ending music? Pretty solid. Some character backstories? Not awful, just nothing to write home about.

Is it a romance? A cooking show? A mystery? A thriller? Who knows! The show itself can’t decide, and ... the result is a tangled mess of plotlines that don’t blend well. The lore is hurriedly crammed in through long, snooze-worthy scenes where characters explain the world to a protagonist who seems more clueless than curious. And don’t even get me started on the "big mystery" about the masked ayakashi. The whole thing could’ve been solved with two simple questions, but no—we get dragged along.

Speaking of being dragged, the animation quality is just as lifeless as the plot. It’s like the animators were trying to win a "least movement possible" contest. There were moments where I thought my TV had frozen, only to realize the characters just weren't moving. The protagonist, Aoi, must have some kind of irresistible invisible charm, because everyone she meets—despite initially disliking her—comes around and loves her after an episode or two. Aoi, is your classic damsel in distress, constantly leaning on her one defining trait: that one time she ate food given to her by an ayakashi as a child. Each episode just serves to show how "caring" she is, but after a while, it feels like the show is yelling, "Look! She’s nice! Please care about her!" Overkill much?

Her supposed husband, Odanna, who’s an ogre (though he acts more like her grandpa, whose name you’ll never know unless you Google it because he’s always just called "Ogre God"), barely interacts with her. They go from mild distaste to being... friendly acquaintances, at best. He brings zero romantic energy to the table. There’s absolutely no development between them. They have the same boring conversations episode after episode, which gets old real fast. And then there's Odanna's face. He’s got one expression—a blank, unblinking smile—and that's all you’re gonna get. It’s like the animators were as tired of him as we are. I mean, how can you root for the main couple when the love interest looks like a badly drawn emoji?

Honestly, I found myself shipping Aoi with pretty much anyone else on the show. There's more spark between her and the kitchen utensils than there is with her supposed soulmate. The romance subplot feels like it’s being crammed down your throat, but it never actually goes anywhere.

Character development? What’s that? Everyone is either "nice" or "mean," and that’s it. Aoi, despite being deceived, mistreated, and literally imprisoned multiple times, forgives everyone faster than you can blink. It's laughable. And Odanna? He’s about as emotional as a block of wood with a glued-on smile.

It’s boring. I never knew where it was going, and frankly, I didn’t care. Each episode felt like filler, with no meaningful progression. The moments that were supposed to tug on your heartstrings felt as flat as day-old soda. By the end, I couldn’t recall a single significant plot point. Honestly, this show might’ve been better off staying a manga.

In the end, the plot just drifts aimlessly, like a boat with no oars, and after a few episodes, you'll probably wish it would sink already. Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi is an anime that’s easy to forget, and frankly, it should stay that way.

Losing Money to Be a Tycoon: The Art of Accidental Success

Imagine this: You're stuck in a dead-end developer job, mindlessly coding away, when suddenly—BAM!—you’re thrown back 10 years to your university days with a special power. Sweet, right? Wrong! Welcome to Pei Qian's life in Losing Money to Be a Tycoon, where instead of hitting the jackpot with his newfound ability, Pei's days are spent in a constant state of panic. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill power trip. Nope, Pei's "gift" is more like a curse, courtesy of a mysterious system that demands he loses money. And if he doesn't meet his failure quota? Say goodbye ... to the system, and all the perks that come with it.

I swear, this series feels like a giant middle finger to all those generic regression manhua that flood the market and the Gen Z game studio startups trying to make it big. Losing Money to Be a Tycoon takes the familiar regression trope and turns it on its head—then slaps it around for good measure. Pei Qian’s game plan? Pick the next “big” idea, then trash it as spectacularly as possible. His goal? Glorious failure. But thanks to his “bad” business decisions, Pei’s company somehow grows into an unstoppable juggernaut. The comedy is top-tier with ridiculous character reactions, absurd internal monologues, and dialogues that will have you in stitches. Sure, the other characters might not be as fleshed out as Pei Qian, but who cares? They’re not the stars of this freak show anyway.

The art? Not terrible, but let’s be honest, the animation is laughably bad. Think of a slideshow where only the mouths move—back and forth, back and forth, with maybe three frames tops. But hey, at least the colors are pretty! Vibrant tones, nice shading, and gradients—clearly where all the budget went. As for the animation? Well, let’s just say this isn’t the series where you’re looking for jaw-dropping fight scenes or complex character movements.

The background music is its own quirky little gem. Every time Pei Qian comes up with his next “brilliant” flop, this soothing theme song kicks in, making you feel like you’re about to watch something epic… and then the epic fail happens. Voice acting? Decent enough, though don’t expect to be blown away. The sound effects and music are just kinda… there, doing their thing, but nothing too fancy.

This series is like a hot fudge sundae with a cherry on top—delicious, fun, and utterly ridiculous. It’s light-hearted, doesn’t take itself too seriously, and neither should you. The only real bummer? The character development is more like character disposal. Once someone’s role in the story is done, they’re chucked out like yesterday’s trash. It’s no Saiki-K, where characters stick around and weave in and out of the story, but it’s got its own brand of charm.

In the end, Losing Money to Be a Tycoon is the kind of series you enjoy for the laughs, the over-the-top antics, and the sheer absurdity of it all. Just don’t go in expecting deep character arcs or groundbreaking storytelling. It’s a fun ride with plenty of entertainment—and who knows, maybe Pei Qian will finally figure out how to fail successfully in season 2.

Patema Inverted is like that surprise snack you find in the back of the pantry—good, but not exactly gourmet. When it was being made, I doubt anyone thought it would be the crown jewel of 2013 anime. The characters have about as much depth as a kiddie pool, and the plot has its fair share of "Wait, what?" moments. Even if you're just here to have a good time, you'll probably find yourself chuckling at some of the silliness.

Now, before you see the 8-star rating and start doing a happy dance, let's get one thing straight: this anime is all about the cool concept. The ... world it’s set in is super intriguing, and it’s definitely the star of the show. Everything else? Meh, it kind of just tags along. You might catch yourself checking the time a few times, but don’t worry—there are a couple of twists to reel you back in. The music is pretty sweet, the animation and art style are decent, and the characters? Well, they’re there, but don’t expect them to win any popularity contests. All in all, it's not a bad watch, just don’t set your expectations sky-high. Save it for a rainy day or when you want to dive into a cool universe that might seem a bit familiar.

Let’s talk characters. Patema? She’s adorable. Sure, after a while, her cuteness might start to grate on you, but the movie’s short enough that it won’t be an issue. She’s your classic damsel in distress—tripping over things, getting into trouble, and needing a rescue. Yep, we’ve all seen this before. It would've been nice if the movie shook things up a bit, but Patema sticks to the script. And every damsel needs a hero, right? Enter Age, the brave student. And… that’s pretty much it. There’s not much else to say about him. He’s got the standard brown hair, blue eyes, and the generic anime haircut. Honestly, you might confuse him with one of the other students who show up for like ten seconds. Given how cool the world looks, it’s a bit of a letdown that Age isn’t more interesting. Anyway, he falls for Patema super fast—like, lightning-fast. It’s one of those “Okay, that’s a bit cheesy” moments, especially when Age is risking his life for her after knowing her for, what, two days? Besides their whirlwind romance and the whole villain thing, there’s not much to these two.

Speaking of the villain, he’s your standard bad guy—a tyrannical governor driven by some semi-religious mumbo jumbo. He’s not very exciting and is only after Patema because she’s “inverted,” which, according to surface people lore, is a curse. Yawn. We’ve seen this villain before, and the script doesn’t do him any favors, with lines you’ve heard in a dozen other animes.

Visually, the movie looks good, but it’s not going to blow your mind, especially if you’ve seen The Garden of Words, which takes visual artistry to a whole new level. Where Patema Inverted shines is in its creative and memorable scenes. The whole “falling into the sky” perspective is pretty awesome, and it’s a trip to see the world upside down like that.

In the end, I thought the movie was just okay. I wouldn’t watch it again or recommend it because it’s pretty run-of-the-mill. The concept and reverse gravity scenes were impressive, but the story? It’s a trope-fest that doesn’t even try to break the mold.

Odd Taxi is about a snarky, sharp-witted walrus who moonlights as a taxi driver in a city full of talking animals. Right off the bat, you'll notice the cast is huge, with a bunch of different storylines happening all at once. These 13 episodes are jam-packed, like a suitcase before a long trip! But don’t worry—this isn’t some rush job to cram a ton of manga into a short series. Nope, the chaos is totally intentional!

Odd Taxi is a refreshing cocktail of genres and styles, blending into a story that's both complex and deeply human, all wrapped up in a brilliantly constructed mystery. What’s wild ... is that the genius behind its smart dialogue and perfect pacing is a writer with zero other credits to their name.

Odd Taxi is awesome, and honestly, I was hooked from the get-go. The humor is genuinely funny, never dragging on, and it’s cleverly woven into everyday conversations. The show is downright witty and nails the art of building unique, diverse characters back-to-back. Take the main guy, Odokawa—a socially awkward, middle-aged, contrarian walrus who’s pretty much a jaded jerk. The second I realized the show was actually giving us real, relatable characters, I knew it deserved all the praise. Seriously, it’s rare for a show to nail even one character this well, and Odd Taxi does it with a whole bunch of them.

It’s so good at capturing those tiny shifts between awkwardness and connection in conversations that every character feels balanced and believable. Even with its seemingly goofy character designs (which totally tie into the themes), the character work is anything but silly—it's downright lifelike.

As an avid fan of High Card, I was all in, eagerly awaiting Season 2, hoping for a deep dive back into the thrilling world that Season 1 set up so beautifully. And to be honest, the first few episodes had me nodding along, thinking, "Okay, this is pretty good." But after that? Well, that’s where things started to fall apart for me.

On the bright side, our favorite characters found themselves knee-deep in even crazier situations, which made them tighter as a group and led to some pretty juicy introspection. Chris, my personal fave, thankfully kept his swagger from the first season. With a fresh ... crop of villains and some long-lost frenemies popping up, the stage was set for a truckload of plot twists.

And plot twists we got—enough to make you rethink everything you thought you knew about those magic cards. The kingdom of Fourland? Yeah, it had way more secrets up its sleeve than we first thought. As the card powers started to unfold, the drama kicked into high gear, cranking up the tension to levels that might just give you whiplash. But, let’s be real, that intensity sometimes came at the expense of the slick, cool vibe that made the first season pop.

Now, let's talk animation—honestly, it didn’t exactly blow my mind, especially compared to some of the other big shows this season. The CGI during crucial scenes was a bit of a letdown, and some of the facial expressions? Flat as a pancake. The music? It got the job done, with the opening theme still holding its ground, and the sound effects were a decent match for the card powers.

Let’s talk about that pacing, though—it’s like they hit fast-forward and forgot to hit pause. Everything’s moving at a million miles per hour, with character development, plot twists, and emotional beats jam-packed into every episode. It’s like they tried to squeeze a whole season’s worth of story into half the time, and the result? A narrative that skims the surface without diving into the rich, intricate details we fell in love with.

This breakneck speed doesn't just mess with the vibe—it steals the thunder from those big, pivotal moments that should’ve hit us right in the feels. Instead of letting scenes breathe and build suspense, they get glossed over, leaving us feeling a bit disconnected and craving more depth. So yeah, it’s not boring, and it's definitely watchable, but there’s no denying it feels like an average anime that could’ve been so much more.

Overall, if you were itching for more of what the first season brought, this one doesn't do the trick. It’s not exactly a home run, and halfway through, you might be tempted to toss it into the "maybe later" pile. But stick with it, and by the end, you’ll probably find yourself going all in for that final episode.

You know humor’s in trouble when "Asobi Asobase" becomes everyone’s idea of a "Comedy" anime. I tried to like it, but wow, it was rough. The so-called surreal humor? It’s mostly just the characters pulling weird faces, ranging from goofy cartoon stuff to meme-level absurdity—about as fresh as the third season of "Rick and Morty." All that’s missing are some surprise dickbutts and a pickle-themed character.

The whole cast is meant to be funny, but instead, it just feels flat and one-dimensional. The writing? Let’s just say it’s like "Lucky Star" but without the charm. Imagine replacing moeblob Konata with a trio of girls who have ... rubbery faces and do equally boring things in equally boring ways.

"Asobi Asobase" tries to be funny by having characters constantly make stupid faces—yep, that’s the punchline. Or they’ll drop a reference to something popular, and that’s supposed to be hilarious. There’s even an episode about bad online yaoi fanfics, which is probably the high point. And don’t get me started on the rich girl’s butler. His big gag is that aliens gave him an anal probe, so now he shoots lasers out of his butt. That’s the level of "intellectual" humor we’re dealing with here.

Another episode has the girls competing to smell each other’s armpits. The foreign girl wins because East Asians apparently have fewer sweat glands and less body odor. Riveting stuff.

The main trio of the Pastime Club is Hanako, the rich and dumb one; Kasumi, the geek who hates games because her sister always beat her; and Olivia, the American-born girl who pretends she can’t speak Japanese, but actually can’t speak English. And that’s the entire joke with her—every episode just rehashes this same gag in different ways.

So yeah, if this is what passes for comedy, I’m not sure what’s left of humor.

Chinese animation, or donghua, has been gaining momentum in recent years. Despite anime’s massive popularity in China over the past decade, it took some time for high-budget, domestically produced series aimed at older audiences to emerge. However, donghua has finally started to make its presence felt in the broader anime community, with notable entries like The King’s Avatar in 2017 and Mo Dao Zu Shi in 2018.

I watched Tian Guan Ci Fu in its entirety, mainly drawn in by its high ranking and enthusiastic recommendations from novel readers. Unfortunately, the series turned out to be a significant letdown, marred by a poorly executed second ... arc, minimal character development, and some of the worst editing I’ve encountered.

The series is divided into two main arcs. The first arc, which spans three episodes, is the stronger of the two. It follows Xie Lien, the main character, as he descends to the mortal realm as a Heavenly Official to solve the mystery of the ghost groom at Mount Yujun. Accompanied by the fiery Nan Feng and Fu Yao, Xie Lien navigates this mystery, which is well-crafted, with suspenseful moments and some solid action scenes that effectively engage the viewer.

The success of this introductory arc hinges on a few key elements. The world-building is sparse, with little explanation given for the mechanics of ascension, banishment, magic formations, or the workings of Heaven. While there is some character development, mainly focused on Xie Lien, it’s minimal, which is somewhat forgivable given the arc's focus on the mystery. However, the resolution of the mystery is underwhelming. Xie Lien had already deduced much of the ghost’s motives, but the narrative still included a convoluted flashback that added little to the story while consuming valuable screen time—a missed opportunity to maintain momentum.

Instead of addressing these issues, Tian Guan Ci Fu exacerbates them in the second arc, making the later episodes difficult to endure. Recurring characters receive no development—none at all. Apart from basic, superficial traits, we learn nothing about the personalities of the characters, with Nan Feng and Fu Yao being the most awful examples. Their temper issues and mutual dislike serve as the primary sources of comic relief, but this quickly becomes tiresome. The world-building is poorly executed, with constantly shifting, disjointed settings that remain largely unexplored. This lack of cohesion results in the series feeling more like a string of arbitrary events rather than a coherent narrative.

A significant contributor to these problems is the dull and wasteful dialogue. The second arc is dialogue-heavy, but it’s the worst kind of dialogue: sloppy exposition dumps. Characters often explain minor plot points in excessive detail, usually accompanied by a flashback. These frequent exposition dumps are clunky and lack subtlety, consuming time that could have been better spent on character or world development. The second arc’s overall direction is baffling, and it’s hard to understand why these narrative choices were made.

The excessive exposition slows the pacing to a crawl, with little happening throughout the second arc. Much of the exposition is delivered by San Lang, a mysterious young man who seems to know everything. In well-written dialogue, the personality of the speaker can shine through while conveying information, but the lazy script renders San Lang as another bland character. There’s supposed to be a romance between San Lang and Xie Lien, but with such flat characters, it’s hard to feel invested.

Good editing can salvage scenes that would otherwise be a slog, but the editing in Tian Guan Ci Fu is atrocious. The editor overuses fade-to-black transitions, which drag out the pacing even further—a poor choice when so much of the episode is already bogged down by exposition. Some interactions are awkward, with unnatural pauses between character reactions.

There are also inexplicable technical errors. For instance, in episode 6, a looped animation of Xie Lien walking includes a frame with his mouth open that cycles for about ten seconds. In the same shot, Xie Lien’s mouth stops moving prematurely, while San Lang’s mouth moves as Xie Lien’s dialogue continues—a glaring mistake. The series also suffers from consistent lip-sync issues, with this segment being the worst offender. In episode 10, a girl dances to Xie Lien’s clapping and a tambourine player’s beat, but the clapping doesn’t match the tambourine’s rhythm. Additionally, the voice actors for Nan Feng and Fu Yao often stand too close to the mic, causing annoying distortion during their frequent yelling. These basic errors are astonishingly overlooked, and while they may be humorous at times, they are mostly just distracting. The consistent technical flaws severely detract from the viewing experience.

That said, Tian Guan Ci Fu does have some redeeming qualities. The soundtrack is decent and well-produced, and the voice actors deliver serviceable performances. As mentioned earlier, the first arc is quite enjoyable, supported by beautiful backgrounds, fluid animation, and well-choreographed fight scenes—though these qualities diminish as the series progresses, they remain at a reasonable level. It’s clear that significant time, money, and effort went into producing this series, which makes the poor direction and editing even more puzzling.

Tian Guan Ci Fu is based on a novel widely praised for its masterful storytelling, but this quality did not carry over to its donghua adaptation. The show had all the potential for something special, as hinted at by the promising first arc. Unfortunately, it fails to sustain that momentum, spiraling downward as the episodes progress and ultimately ending in disappointment. Due to the unengaging second arc, I found Tian Guan Ci Fu to be an overall unenjoyable experience. Unless watching attractive male characters flirt with each other is your primary interest, it’s best to steer clear of this one.

Akudama Drive takes viewers on a rollercoaster ride through a futuristic sci-fi world, where each episode unfolds with surprising twists. While I was initially hesitant about its scattered storyline, I found the ending particularly touching, leaving a lasting impact despite the ups and downs of the journey.

Story in unique in term of it sets in a future where everything is controlled by computers and the most powerful is the "Executioners" who are the police of this town whose only job is to safeguad the city against the 'Akudama". I liked the set up but I found the story too be too scatter poltted. Though the ... story does have unique flavour, the ending had me smile more. The visual art was very much stunning.